Page 17 of Bonded By Blood
Chapter Five
Brianna let herself in to the massive formal sitting room, allowing the guard in the hall to close the door behind her as her gaze swept the room. Her mother had decorated it herself, and so while the overall décor was a bit gaudy and timelessly classic, the furniture scattered around was eclectic at best. Modern mixed with signature styles from decades, even centuries, gone by. None of it was actually that old, of course. Trista simply threw money at talented craftsmen and had them provide what she wanted. She liked the styles, but they’d both learned long ago not to get sentimental over possessions.
Possessions could be lost, stolen, or burned. They inevitably fell to the curse of time.
“You summoned me, Mother?” Brianna said as Trista lifted her attention from the tablet in her hand. Brianna moved to sit in a chair that faced the one her mother occupied.
Trista lowered the device to her lap and leaned back, the corners of her glossed lips lifting slightly. “I thought we could exchange updates,” she said. She crossed one fishnet covered leg over the other. “I heard you met up with the human again yesterday. How is that coming along?”
Brianna kept her expression calm. “It’s coming along fine,” she said. “I still don’t believe he was part of any conspiracy. He only seems to know the information available to the public, at least as far as the killings go.” Whether or not Joe was involved in some conspiracy against Brianna or her mother, though, he might well be a target of the Wilsons. But Brianna kept that to herself for the moment.
Trista hummed thoughtfully for a second. “I see.” She tapped her midnight blue painted nails on the screen of the tablet. “Well, don’t let up. He may simply need more prodding to let his guard down.”
“Or he may be innocent,” Brianna said. She pursed her lips for a moment. “Remember, there was more than one possibility when we first talked about this? He could be as much a target of the Wilson brothers as anyone.”
“I remember,” Trista replied. “But if those pests are targeting him, I want to know why. What makes him special.”
There was no way Brianna could properly explain to her mother the concept of Joe’s innate ability to get along with, even understand, the other creatures surrounding him. The way he sympathized with, and humanized, them. To her, that made him special. She suspected some aspect of that was the same reason he’d been able to befriend multiple werewolves over the span of his life. And the mere fact that he was best friends with a young Alpha, who lived so close to Sacramento, might be enough to put him on a rebel vampire’s radar. But Trista would have a hard time accepting such an easy answer, so Brianna said, “I’ll keep looking.”
“Good.”
Several seconds passed by and Brianna fought the urge to sigh impatiently. “I thought we were sharing updates?” She raised her brows pointedly. “Is there more from Troy?”
“Ugh.” Trista’s arms slackened in her lap as if she were exhausted. “He’s giving us nothing. Nothing of any use, at least. Every now and then he spits up something and so far it’s always old news.”
Brianna was surprised. “He’s resisting Jasen?”
“Apparently he’s loyal.” Trista said the word as if it disgusted her. “He’s figured out that I’ve ordered Jasen not to kill him yet and is using it against us.” She curled her lip. “Perhaps I’ll cut my losses and make an example of him instead. Tell me, how do you think we could spread word of his execution most efficiently?”
Brianna drew a breath. She understood her mother’s point, and the frustration, but she didn’t have much of a stomach for torture and murder. “If you mean how to get the information to his brother quickly, I don’t know.”
Trista sighed. “Neither do I.” She paused. “Well, I suppose we could mimic the style of the other brother’s murders and leave the corpse to be found.”
“The other bodies are found fairly fresh, Mother,” Brianna said. Trista was the last person she should have to remind about what happened to vampire corpses. How they rapidly became gray and withered, virtually unidentifiable.
“I know that,” Trista said dismissively, waving a lazy hand. “It’s not a perfect plan.”
“Maybe,” Brianna began slowly, “instead of torturing him endlessly, you should try a different tactic?”
Trista arched a thin brow, curiosity lifting her expression. “Oh?”
Brianna shrugged a bit. “Perhaps leave him alone. Isolate him. Deep enough away that he can only hear murmurs of the world, to remember it’s there. Don’t feed him for a few days.”
Trista’s lips lifted in a slow, wicked smile. “Let him rot,” she said. “See what he might cough up for some sustenance.”
“Have you tried that yet?”
“I don’t know,” Trista replied. “I don’t stand over Jasen’s shoulder and watch his every move.” She pushed to her feet. “But I’m going to make sure we do it now. Or again.” She walked forward and rested a hand on Brianna’s shoulder. “Be careful with that human, Brianna. It’s a dangerous world out there.”
The room echoed with the clacking of Trista’s stiletto heels until the door swung shut behind her, leaving Brianna alone.
Brianna heaved out a sigh and slumped in the chair. She somehow felt dirty for contributing to the ongoing torture of their captive, regardless of how vile a man she knew he was, or how important their endgame also was. The conversation had left her tired. Although that wasn’t entirely uncommon when dealing with her mother.
The side door opened unexpectedly and Brianna straightened.
“Apologies, ma’am,” Garvin said as he stepped in, carrying a wine glass on a small tray. “I heard you’d been summoned by the Queen and thought you might want a refresher. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Brianna smiled and stood, meeting him halfway. “I would love one, Garvin,” she said. As she accepted the glass, the sweet scent of his blood wafting to her nose, she asked, “But I thought it was your day off?”