The kids are refusing to go to bed today, vehemently at that, too. They're glued to my legs, hugging them so tightly that it feels like the blood isn't flowing down to my toes. Oh gosh, why are they looking at me with a worried gaze that mirrors their father's?
Guys, I'm fine. Really.
A deep breath later, and I force a smile. I don't trust my voice to stay steady right now, so I ruffle Ellena's hair instead, making a bird's nest out of it. It earns me a pout, but not from the girl; from Elois. He's jealous of his big sister, who's all grins. Why do they always need to compete for my attention…? Alright, fine, I'll ruffle his hair, too.
"Ellena, Elois," Jordan calls, and both kids stiffen against my legs. They cautiously lift their eyes to meet their father's stern gaze, looking just like deer in front of headlights. "It's past your bedtime."
"But Father…!"
"We're not tired…!"
Jordan narrows his hazel eyes, and the children purse their lips, a deep frown creasing their brows. Erm, kids? Since when have you been brave enough to contest your father's words…?
"It's not fair!" Ellena stomps her feet in frustration, refusing to bow down. "You're not telling our big brother to go to bed, so why do we have to?"
"Your big brother is older than you," Jordan's smile is stiff, "so of course his bedtime is later. Once you're older, you'll also be allowed to sleep at a later hour. But for the time being—"
"No!" It's Elois's turn to stomp his feet. "We're not going to bed if Sir Jonathan isn't!"
The proverbial headache is already throbbing at my temples. I don't want to handle the kids' tantrums tonight, but it's not like I have a choice. We've been spoiling them rotten lately, and I'm tempted to just give in to their demands. I probably would have, hadn't it been for the severity of the situation.
I can't send their brother to bed with them; I need to sit down and discuss with Jonathan right away, not tomorrow morning.
Withholding important information when his aide is trying to sort out traitors is nothing short of suicidal. Being tired is not an excuse, not when staying quiet might get Anthony killed overnight, or make things more treacherous for James down the road. The faster we get rid of cockroaches, the safer it will be.
"Then," James raises his hand, his voice coaxing, "how about your uncle read you a story? Hm?"
The kid's grip tightens on my pants, their demon nails clawing at my thighs, and I have to clench my jaw not to let out a wince. These brats can't control their strength well, and I've got a hunch I'll have bruises darkening my skin tomorrow. It wouldn't be the first time.
Anyway. Brats, come on, stop hesitating.
"But Jonathan…"
"…and Dad…"
"Will come snuggle with you once they're done with their adult conversation!" James winks at us, and I curse him silently. Guess I won't be sleeping in my bed tonight. "Swearthearts, do you really want to listen to the grown-up boring talk?"
Whatever James says, he was born to be a babysitter. He's so good at sweet-talking the kids that it always leaves me speechless. The vampire knows what to say to tempt them, 'cause these two sure love their bedtime stories.
The stalemate stretches, so I gently push them forward, prompting them to follow James upstairs. As demons, they might not mind hearing about gruesome things, but I do. I don't want to talk about murders, conspiracies, and betrayals in front of them. It's probably my human mind talking, but I don't care. In my eyes, they're just kids. Innocent kids.
***
I slouch on the sofa, throwing my head backward to stare at the stupidly high ceiling. The emotions of the day have yet to settle, and they weigh heavily on my chest. But, hey, the lump in my throat has decreased enough to let me breathe painlessly. More or less.
"So…" Jonathan starts, and only then do I consent to lift my heavy head, glancing at the boyish vampire sitting on the opposite couch. He's eying us, but he doesn't dare to stare directly at Jordan. He hasn't been able to since learning he had been added to the family tree. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Vampires."
"…?"
He tilts his head, waiting for me to clarify. I want to dally; I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to remember the conversation I overheard. But it's not like my wants have ever mattered.
"There was an elder at Melissa's funeral."
Although Jonathan tries to hide his surprise, the faint scowl between his brows betrays his inner thoughts. It looks odd on his doll-like face, though. Like, it's the kind of expression old men make, not boys. I guess Jonathan is a geezer, but, oh, well, whatever. Too tired to bother thinking about it too much.
"I snapped a picture," Jordan says, pulling out his phone. Oh, smart. I didn't even notice when he did it, too. "Take a look."
Jordan takes the phone with both hands, his every movement so respectful that I'm just about to burst out laughing. Dude, how come your behavior is so different now? I'm starting to miss his irksome smile. It feels strange to have a patriarch be on his toes around my husband, although admittedly, Jordan's status seems to be high in the demon hierarchy. Not like he acts the part, but, y'know…
"Oh, that's Katherine." Jonathan's voice turns a few degrees colder. Ah. Not a friend, huh? "She's the family head of a prominent blood relative clan. I hadn't heard about her for a while, but it seems like she's still the same as ever; a scheming brat who can't see past her nose."
There's definitely a history here. I'd rather not probe and turn the knife, but I have to if I want a better idea of what's going on.
"You don't seem fond of her…?"
"Of course not." Jonathan snorts, giving the phone back. "Remember the vampire hunts?"
"How could I not?"
My instructor, the one who had a thing for vampires, loved to bring that period of time up during my hunter education. The number of research papers he made Bryan and me read, and the number of tests we had to pass…! I don't want to know how many nights I spent dreaming about those hunts. My mind is a little too good at coming up with quite the nightmarish stuff; my imagination is too vivid.
That aside, I have to admit that all I know is what the hunters recorded, and I've noticed a pattern in their logs: these arrogant pricks tend to simplify things and glorify themselves to no end, even when they're the bastards in the story. I'm knowledgeable, but my knowledge is to be taken with a grain of salt. I've also never heard the vampires' version of the events.
"Then… Do you know how the hunts came to be? And I'm not talking about why hunters decided to try to annihilate my kind, but why some vampire sub-clans stirred the hornet's nest like morons."
I blink at the question. All I've heard is that the vampires were going berserk at the time, sucking people dry left and right, destroying the fragile equilibrium between humans and vampires.
But as to why that happened… I don't know.
"You see, back then, some fools were enticed by the words of a crown prince," Jonathan smirks coldly. "He promised a dystopian dream to one of the clan heads, and the young idiot fell for it, alongside a few other clan heads, including Katherine. They were promised everlasting reign over humans deemed as unfit by the king; the possibility to do whatever the hell they wanted with these blood sacs without retaliation whatsoever. Let's say it didn't go as planned."
My breath is stuck in my chest as the words sink in.
The patriarch might be the clan head of the main clan, but he can't be the head of every sub-clan, too. That's usually reserved for an elder who answers to him. There are too many vampires spread over too large an area to belong to only one clan—it'd be a logistical nightmare, otherwise. Still, these sub-clans are supposed to respect the main clan's wishes and bow to their patriarch. Their blood should be making them unable to go against Jonathan…!
…Looks like they found loopholes in the past, and they've found another one recently. Fucking hell, couldn't these elders be good kids and listen to their frigging Lord! Please, I've got enough shitty humans on my plate to handle already, don't add vampires to the lot, too!
Political intrigues and power struggles are a royal pain in the ass. I don't want to meddle in them, but like I've said, my wants have never mattered. It's worth shit in people's eyes.