Nolan straightened, putting a more comfortable spacing between them. “The Black Wolf clan.”
Rafe loudly sighed, reaching for the decanter again. He splashed more whisky into Nolan’s glass before refilling his own. “The Black Wolf clan and their fucking insane clan leader, Minerva, started that fight. Not us. We had no grievance with them until they killed Julianna and attempted to kill other members of our family. We defended ourselves.”
“Quite effectively too.”
Rafe said nothing as he sipped his whisky and tried to force the rage bubbling in his veins away. He was sick of hearing about the Black Wolf clan, sick of being reminded that he’d been captured. Too many things could have gone wrong that night, resulting in the death of one or more of his brothers.
The Variks hadn’t been staging some fucking coup. They were simply trying to survive.
“You’ve also been meeting with Philippe Arsenault.”
The blood in Rafe’s veins froze in an instant, the chill cutting straight to the marrow of his bones. Caution held his tongue still in his mouth. He would say nothing to harm his family or the Arsenault clan, but he had to say something. Nolan’s pale-blue eyes were a weight on him, keeping him pinned to the back of the booth.
“The Arsenault clan leader has asked the Variks for a little advice on a private matter. That’s all,” Rafe replied with a shrug. He tried to make it all sound unimportant and casual, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his drink. He didn’t trust what Nolan might read in his eyes. This vampire couldn’t know what Philippe meant to him.
Nolan laughed and picked up his glass. The leather creaked softly as he shifted in his seat, but from the corner of Rafe’s eye, he could see that Nolan moved no closer. “I had no idea the Variks were so helpful.”
“We tend to keep to ourselves, but we’re not recluses.” Rafe snorted and waved at the crowd, much like Nolan had mere minutes ago. “As you can see, I don’t mind helping out my fellow man or vampire.”
“I noticed,” Nolan murmured. The two words were casual, but his easygoing smile was gone. “This evening, I also noticed Marcus officially filed paperwork with the Ministry announcing the Variks are a clan now. It didn’t list names, but it reports there are now nine of you when I thought there were only four.”
Okay, so Rafe might have been a little proud of the fact that he could both clench his teeth and smile at the same time. There were a lot of things he was dying to say, but ninety percent of them would have coaxed Nolan into ripping his throat out.
“Things change,” Rafe murmured. “I’m sure the only name anyone is interested in is Aiden.”
“Yes,” Nolan said with a little hiss.
The music seemed to fill in the dead air between them for more than a minute, and Rafe released a silent sigh. Relying on others to fight his fights for him would never be his thing, but he wouldn’t deny that some of the tension squeezing on his chest eased to remember that Aiden was in town, Aiden had his back.
“Naturally, I have no problems with the Variks finally claiming a little power for themselves,” Nolan started again. His tone was light and breezy, as if he were discussing summer vacation spots. “Before the Variks moved to Hartford, your brother and I had several lengthy discussions. Most before the Black Wolf fiasco, of course.” He tossed that last bit out with a wave of his hand as if it hadn’t been a monstrous disaster that nearly cost the Varik brothers their lives.
Rafe stopped himself from rolling his eyes only by picking up his drink. If he took a drink every time Nolan uttered something insulting, Rafe was going to drain the entire bottle on the table.
“The point is,” Nolan pressed on, seeming to warm up to his topic, “my conversations with Marcus have made it clear that the Variks and the MacPhersons have very similar goals and ideals about the duties and responsibilities of what it means to be a vampire. The Variks and MacPhersons aren’t adversaries and will hopefully never be. It would be terrible to see your venerable names wiped away and forgotten.”
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.
Rafe’s eyes locked on Nolan for a second, reading his face and body language. The creature beside him truly hadn’t meant those words as a threat. He believed with all his being that if the Variks and MacPhersons fought, the Variks would be annihilated. Not that Rafe necessarily argued with that assessment, though he was suddenly wishing Bel hadn’t destroyed all of his special poison.
It was time to try a new angle.
Gulping the last of his drink, Rafe sat up and poured another round of whisky into both glasses, though Nolan’s was still half-full. This wasn’t about trying to get the vampire drunk. That took way too much alcohol and didn’t last nearly as long to ever be useful. No, this was about being friendly. Neighborly.