Page 38 of Born Wicked
But Roman handles shady shit like this all the time. He brought a big blanket with him. He throws it over Mason and then hoists him up and over his shoulder like he weighs nothing at all. The sight is still a little sketchy looking, but in about three seconds, Roman is up all those steps in long strides, and he unlocks the front door.
I close the back hatch of the SUV and follow Roman into the building.
It’s dead silent inside. As far as I know, this building is only ever used for council meetings and fancy parties. Most of the time, this exceptionally valuable piece of real estate sits empty.
Roman turns up the stairs, Mason dangling over his shoulder.
“Why do we even need this huge building?” I ask as I follow Roman down the hall. “It is seriously a massive waste.”
“It was given to the council by Mason’s dad,” Roman explains as he stops at a door, pushing it open. I’m a little surprised when we walk into a room set up as a bedroom. Nothing fancy. Just a twin-sized bed and a desk pushed up against another wall. “This was his original headquarters for Godfrey Enterprises. When he finished building that skyscraper, he had no use for this building. So, when we formed the council, he deeded it to us.”
Roman lays Mason on the bed, and I swallow hard as I look down at him. He looks so broken. Heisso broken.
“Honestly, we’ve all had so much on our plates since we formed the council, no one ever took the time to think if there was a better use of the space.” Roman’s eyes sweep the room as if he has x-ray vision and can see the entirety of the building from where he stands. “What would you do with it? You’ve got say now, councilwoman.”
“That sounds so weird, Roman,” I say, shaking my head. “I haven’t even seen the majority of this place.”
“Mason’s not going anywhere,” he says, arching a brow. “If you wanted to take a tour of the place, now is a pretty safe time to do so.”
I should be getting back to the hospital. I have so much to do.
But curiosity has always won out for this cat.
I give Roman a smirk as I step past him out into the hallway. I start pushing doors open along the way. Office. Office. Storage. What looks like a meeting room. A utility room.
It should sound really boring, all of it. But this building is old… Really old. And the charm is over the top. The polished wood floors. The wood details. The crown moldings. Even the doorknobs are a fancy pattern, brass in material.
“I mean, my first thought is hotel, but that doesn’t make much sense,” I say as I walk down the hall to the stairs. Silently, Roman follows behind me. “Security is an issue in the city, so I don’t think we want to advertise a place for outsiders to come and visit.”
“Definitely not,” Roman says in a growly voice. I glance back with a smirk and see the dark, slightly annoyed look in his eyes.
I step out onto the next floor. And this part is pretty dazzling. There’s a long hallway that stretches out in front of us and there are arched windows the entire way. If I weren’t wearing my sunglasses, I’d be completely blind from all the light pouring into the building.
“You know, for a building used by vampires, you’d think there would be a few more blinds or curtains in this place,” I remark sarcastically.
“Well, when the place isn’t used ninety-nine percent of the time…” he trails off.
The rooms on this level are significantly larger. Almost as if they could house small businesses, ones that don’t need entire floors to themselves.
“We could sublet the rooms to businesses,” I think out loud. “It would generate some income. By the way, someone once mentioned a vampire tax.” I look over at Roman, arching an eyebrow. “Is that a real thing?”
Roman nods. “It is. One hundred dollars per month per vampire or gifted. It’s how we pay for security. So far, people would rather pay for that than live somewhere else they have to worry about Royals or hunters.”
“Hunters, shit,” I say, blinking hard. “Is that really a thing?”
Once more, Roman nods. “Not too many of them. Most humans aren’t that stupid. But they’re out there, each with a personal vendetta. Our kind does some pretty despicable shit every now and then.”
“No kidding,” I say, knowing firsthand the truth of it. “So, how come I haven’t been asked to pay this tax since I came into the city? Sounds to me like I owe you a thousand dollars.”
When he doesn’t answer immediately, I glance back at Roman. And the look on his face tells me he doesn’t want to say whatever he’s thinking.
“Mason and then Sebastian paid it for me, didn’t they?” I say, knowing the answer immediately.
“And council members don’t pay into the tax,” he says, barely resisting an eye-roll.
“Which is pretty stupid, considering the Godfrey’s are richer than ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the human population, Sebastian was loaded with hospital and blood money, and hey, I’m not going to complain about my doctor’s salary.” And a thought hits me hard. “Pretty sure I’m the worst niece ever. I have no idea how Sigrid makes a living.”
“There’s a rumor she writes smutty romance books,” Roman fills in with a smirk. “I’m inclined to believe it because she never denies it. But if she does, she uses a pen name. I’ve never been able to find the name Sigrid Haugen anywhere on the internet.”