Page 9 of Bonded By Blood
Chapter Three
“I don’t like this at all,” Trista declared with a low, angry drawl that gave her voice sort of a strange, Southern-meets-British flare. The origin of her native tongue was neither, of course, but she—like Brianna—had lived in both areas long enough to adopt the local accents all the same.
“He might talk if I get serious.” Jasen tossed out the suggestion from where he leaned with faux nonchalance against the wall. He’d shed his jacket sometime after depositing their prisoner, but even without the clichéd black leather completing the ensemble, he was still an imposing sight. Standing at nearly six and a half feet tall—although at least an inch of that came from his steel-toed biker boots, Brianna was certain—Jasen boasted hair that reached his shoulders when it was loose and was nearly as dark as his eyes. Though she sometimes questioned whether his hair was naturally that dark, there was no denying it complemented the black-on-black look he whole-heartedly embraced with his choice of attire. Today it was jeans and a fitted, long-sleeved shirt.
Jasen Hawthorne was the First Family’s premiere Enforcer. For good reason. By definition, his job was to make sure that vampires around the world fell in line with Trista’s laws. Those that refused to comply were put down without exception. He’d held his title for centuries. By default, though, Brianna wasn’t sure it was official, Jasen was considered the third highest ranked vampire. The most respected—the most feared—Turned vampire in existence.
Trista technically had advisors, both of whom were also in the room she presently paced, but in matters like this even they had a habit of looking to Jasen.
“Could he really be so stupid as to cause a scene like that at the sight of one mere human?” Trista asked, glancing toward her trusted Enforcer.
Jasen offered an almost imperceptible shrug of his shoulders without uncrossing his arms. “Hunter says both Wilsons were considered subservient while they were back in Baltimore. Before the shit hit the fan.”
Trista huffed, exasperated.
Brianna watched from her seat as her mother continued pacing a proverbial hole in the expensive tile floor. She was a little rusty on the full story of the Wilson brothers, only that the missing brother, Tobias, was the same vampire both Jasen and colleague Seth Hunter had been chasing for decades. He was an indiscriminate murderer, who’d played part in a mess a while back in Baltimore. He then popped up again around the time the wolf pack had formed, right under their noses. As she understood it, he’d fallen off their radar after that.
She crossed one leg over the other and asked, “But we’re sure if this one’s back, the other one’s nearby?”
Jasen cut his stare over to her. “It’s probable.”
Trista paused. “Define ‘probable’.”
“Until Baltimore, Hunter and I only theorized there might’ve been a partner,” Jasen said. “We never found much evidence for it, so mostly it was a gut instinct.”
Brianna heard the narrow-eyed gaze in her mother’s tone. “And what is your instinct telling you now, Jasen?”
To his credit, he didn’t even flinch. But he never did. “To press this advantage hard before it goes cold.”
Silence rushed into the room, Trista holding still and all eyes on her. She stood straight, her five-foot-nine-inch stature bolstered by four-inch heels. Her hair was a slightly lighter shade of blonde than Brianna’s, and cut so that it hung just past her shoulder blades. “I want to know everything. How to find Tobias Wilson. What their agenda is. And anyone they may be associated with. Leave him alive until we have his brother and we’ve learned what we need. Then rip off his head.”
Jasen straightened, his arms lowered to his sides, and he inclined his head. “It’ll be my pleasure.” He strode from the room with an aura of dark purpose. Which wasn’t actually that unusual for him.
Trista released a breath and flicked one wrist dismissively, her cherry red nails glinting under the artificial lights. “Leave me, both of you.”
Her advisors scampered off with far less grace.
Brianna remained seated, watching her mother.
Trista ran a hand through her hair, turned, and planted that hand on her partially-bare hip. It reminded Brianna again how vastly different their fashion tastes had become. Brianna liked nicer, generally more conservative, clothes. Kendall often called them fancy. Kendall hadn’t been around in the Victorian era. Trista, on the other hand, most often wore things that got celebrities criticized.
Her mother’s current choice of attire was a knee length dress, by technical definition. The pencil skirt had a slit up one side that rendered the skirt practically nothing more than a wrap, an effect that was worsened by a top which boasted a plunging neckline between two straps of ruched fabric. It was wide enough to cover her breasts, barely. The straps gathered at the neck with a matching collar, creating a halter style and leaving her back entirely exposed. Trista was literally the oldest woman on the planet—granted, she passed for a woman who’d just entered her thirties—and she walked around dressing like a twenty-something reality star.
“Let’s talk more about that human,” Trista said. She phrased it like a suggestion, though it was anything but.
“Mother—”
“This is the second time he was targeted by these vampires,” Trista continued, ignoring her. “Perhaps we should consider he wasn’t targeted merely because of those dogs.” Her eyes widened for a heartbeat. “Perhaps he wasn’t the real target at all.”
Brianna sighed. “Mother, don’t do that,” she said firmly. “I was there. I saw the fear in his eyes. I heard it in his heartbeat. He wasn’t acting.”
Trista shrugged her slender shoulders. “I wouldn’t be surprised if men like the Wilson brothers use threats to manipulate humans. The fear could have been genuine, but not for what you think.”
“I don’t believe that,” Brianna said.
Trista stepped up to her and brushed a wisp of hair from Brianna’s face. “You don’t have a lot of experience dealing with humans, sweetheart. He could have been deceiving you.”
Brianna narrowed her eyes at her mother and stood, putting them back at eye level. “I’m not a naïve little child, Mother.” She felt like pointing out which of them had more genuine experience with humans, but refrained. Bringing Kendall into an argument rarely worked in her favor. “If there’s something more the Wilsons want from him than just to anger the wolves, I don’t know. But I believe completely that he was not involved in today’s incident.”