Royal Pains (Vampire Kings 2)

Will had still not mastered the art of knocking, along with many other social nuances lost behind bars. Sometimes that irritated Maddox. Other times, like now, it was a welcome relief from the tedium of office.

“So,” Will declared in that way he did when he had something to declare. He dropped himself into a chair, limbs sprawling in an all too comfortable way. “I’m a werewolf.”

“Yes. You are,” Maddox smiled indulgently at how long it had taken Will to make that remark. He had accepted his transformation with incredible emotional agility, or perhaps he’d just been too busy to ask questions. Eventually, however, these things did have a way of sinking in.

“What does… how did that happen?”

Ah, here it was. The where do I come from question. The question that covered a myriad of other, deeper, darker questions. Maddox had known this was going to come up eventually. Will was not the most curious of creatures, but even the most disinterested pup had to wonder where the fangs and paws came from.

“Your father was the last pureblood werewolf. He met your mother, things happened in the usual way, and you were born.”

“And put in a fucking dumpster.” Will’s eyes flared with blue fury. “That’s all I know about myself. That I was thrown away the second I was born. It was the one thing in my file everybody just fucking loved telling me about. Like it was some massive miracle I survived.”

“Your mother was very young. Younger than she should have been. And you were born with fur and a tail. I don’t think she knew what to do with you.”

“I don’t have a fucking tail, Maddox. And I’m not covered in fur.”

“The fur fell out a few hours after birth, and the tail was removed as a vestigial appendage at the hospital after you were found.”

Will’s eyes narrowed with understandable suspicion. Maddox had previously decided to answer the boy’s questions honestly as they arose, but not to bring up the topic before William brought it up himself. He didn’t want to overload Will with more information than he could handle. Too much, too soon was bad for a human with a temper issue.

“How do you know all this?”

“I knew of your father. Not as a friend. He was not a friend.” Maddox was very clear about that. “I did not know your mother at all, but even a casual observer could conclude that she was too young, too inexperienced, and too afraid to deal with the consequences of her actions. She made a mistake the day she left you behind.”

“Yes, she fucking did.” Will gritted his teeth.

“Let me tell you something before you give into all that rage. Nothing is ever lost. Everything is conserved. And those with unfinished business inevitably return to one another’s orbit.”

“Is that right? Sounds like bullshit.”

“The truth delights in masquerading as bullshit. All’s well now, isn’t it?”

“Sure, I mean my childhood was a nightmare and I ended up in prison, but that’s all fine because now I suck a vampire’s dick.”

This conversation was clearly not putting Will in a good mood.

“You are the mate of the vampire king,” Maddox reminded him. “You have triumphed over adversity and found your own power.”

“Uh huh. So where’s my father now?”

“I really couldn’t say, boy.”

“I want to find him. So I can kick his ass. You don’t know what it’s like,” Will said. “To just be left somewhere. To be helpless, and have your whole life fucked up…”

Maddox did not know what it was like. But he knew precisely how it had been. He remembered the day of Will’s birth clearly, some twist of fate bringing him to a scent and a cry from bags of garbage that should have been still and silent. It was a sound of innocence and pain, and it had cut through him in a way few other sounds did, now that he was cloaked in eternal night.

A teenage girl was hurrying away, her hands over her ears, her sneaker-clad feet pacing swiftly over the pavement in a pained gait. The sound continued. She had left her babe left to exposure. How Spartan of her.

It was not his job to save infant humans, but Maddox found the cry to be the kind of irritant to his conscience he could not ignore. He went to the dumpster and reached in, ignoring the debris and filth of human existence.

The baby stopped crying when he lifted it. That’s all it wanted, just a simple little thing: touch. It wanted to be looked after, watched over. It did not want to be alone. The blanket over its still sticky wet body slipped, revealing a light pelt of uncommon fur and the mark of maleness. He was perfect in every way. He was also fast getting cold, and hungry. He needed milk and a mother.