“I doubt if it’s to see how a poor old woman is faring.” She sneered. “I wouldn’t expect kindness from a Hale.”
“You want me to sympathize? Very well, I am sorry to see you as a shadow of your former self.”
“Ha!” she croaked. Turning, she wheeled herself with long clawed hands toward the bureau and poured herself a wine. “Want one?”
“I will decline, thank you.” He watched the blood-red liquid slug into a glass, her hand visibly shaking. Maybe he should feel sympathy, but all he could muster was a vague disgust.
There would be no son to take care of her in her dotage. No humans with a stake would even waste their time putting her out of her misery.
“So, what are you sniffing around for?” she croaked.
He watched as she greedily slugged back the wine. Her looks were long gone. She smacked her lips and grimaced at him through broken teeth. Ye gods, surely she could afford dentalcare? Except no Motham dentist would likely go near her in case she bit them.
Born Dorothea Bingley, she was from a lesser vampire clan that had lived in the lowlands until their food supply ran dry. Dorothea had arrived as a child with her clan and married above herself to Bernard Kominsky. Rumor had it she’d miscarried often until she finally produced an heir, only to have her husband leave her with a new bride and a new life over the mountains.
It was tragic really.
“I repeat, what do you want with me, Hale scum?”
Any small glow of empathy was snuffed out by her words.
“I am here with regards to your son.”
She broke eye contact. “Haven’t seen him in three years.”
“Why do I think that is a lie, Dorothea?”
“Would I tell you, knowing how much you want revenge on my family?”
“Revenge, no. Justice, yes. It’s hard to let go of a betrayal that has your loved ones murdered in cold blood. That doesn’t fade, Dorothea.”
“Bah! You Hales with your airs and graces and your snobby stuck-up ways. You all had it coming, you vile bastards.”
“Building bonds with humans that allowed us to feed without destruction, you mean? Look at you Dorothea, a broken alcoholic, feeding off livestock and red wine. Is yours not a vile lifestyle?”
“Better than yours, you vegan wimp.”
He laughed out loud at her attempt to insult him. “I do okay on my diet of lettuce.” He stalked around the room looking at her photos—Dorothea holding Matteus in her arms, a beautiful young vampira then. Matteus, graduating college, and standing in front of his black limo, his handsome smile not belying the cruel light in his eyes.
“So you’ve not sighted your son since…”
“Since you tried to frame him for abducting a human. She was a stupid little bitch anyhow. Didn’t know when she was onto a good thing. She could have had everything. Instead, she’s gone and shacked up with an orc.”
“An orc billionaire. Don’t think she’s done too badly.”
“My Matteus has gone further than any billionaire.”
Oliver cocked an eyebrow. “How would you know if you’ve had no contact?”
She seemed to pull herself up short. “I sense it. As his mother. He is connected to my womb, forever, the memory of carrying him is in my cells, I don’t need to be told what he’s doing to know, it’s telepathic.”
She guzzled her wine, slammed down her glass and gave a cackle. “He will be a high priest soon. And then watch out, valley lands.”
Oliver raised his brows but said nothing, waiting for her to walk into the trap of her own ego.
She swiped at her lips with her sleeve. Muttered something he couldn’t quite hear.
Oliver nudged the conversation along. “High priest, eh? Surely Matteus Kominsky, playboy extraordinaire, is not choosing celibacy?”
