Pack Master (Vampire Kings 3)

Ivan was not alone in his nocturnal prison.

There was another chained to the wall. Well, chained was the wrong word. Attached. That was a better one. Pinned, really.

Chauvelin should have known better than to cross Maddox again. Now he was attached to the wall the same way a butterfly sample might be attached to a specimen tray, unable to move for the silver stake through his core.

One day, they told one another, they would be free. And one day, they would have their revenge. They were very slow to learn their lessons, these two prisoners, and that was why Maddox had no intention of seeing either one of them freed any time soon.

Chapter Fifteen

Trips to the Library couldn’t all be swing tunes and blowjobs. Eventually the reality of the responsibility Lorien had been entrusted with came to bear. On this particular eve, it was Lorien’s first court as the stand-in for Maddox. He was nervous. The vampires who would be coming before him today were many of the same ones who had seen him brutalized previously. He anticipated trouble.

Henry sensed that, like he sensed everything. The man was like an emotional detector, aware of feeling Lorien couldn’t even put names to.

“I will be there with you,” Henry assured him, straightening his collar. Lorien had opted to wear an actual shirt in the attempt to be seen in a more formal light.

“I know, but this is a pack of bloody assholes like you’ve never seen.”

“You’ll handle them,” Henry said. “Maddox wouldn’t have left you to do it if you couldn’t.”

This was an early evening court, mostly designed to deal with small disputes and manage minor issues. It should be an easy way for Lorien to cut his teeth. That was what Maddox had said when he called for advice anyway. Lorien, like everybody else probably, thought this was probably a bad idea, but here he was.

“Ringford,” Lorien nodded as he stepped over the threshold of the Library with Henry. “Do I need to punch you in the face today?”

“That will not be necessary,” Ringford said. “I have been advised that you are to be considered king until Maddox returns. All due respect will be accorded to you and your guests.”

If only that turned out to be true. The Library contained a hundred or so vampires when Lorien took the throne. He was sure only twenty of them actually had any kind of business to attend to. The rest of them were just there to look at him, perhaps to test him. Maybe even to slay him. He was perceived as vulnerable, and that alone made him vulnerable. He was glad that Henry had agreed to accompany him, though the presence of a wolf beside the throne did cause the usual mutterings and murmurings of discontent to be even louder than usual. There was resentment in the royal vampire court simmering at such a level as to be about to boil over.

“Right,” he said. “Business. What is the first affair?”

There was another general murmur of discontent around the room and furtive glances from one to another, as if they were all just waiting for someone to say something.

And then someone said something.

A vampire named Gerald came forward with a mocking expression on his predictably handsome face. Gerald had been a low-ranking member of the court of the previous kings. As such he fancied himself an expert on all things royal.

“No offense, but you are too young to face the sun. How can someone of such delicate years hope to hold our highest office, even as a place holder?”

“Offense taken,” Lorien scowled. “My age has no bearing on my right to be here.”

But Gerald had no intention of stopping there. He’d decided to make a stand, as it were. He turned to the others and raised his voice, daring to speak over and before the king.

“Maddox has the nerve to leave this fledgling on the throne? He may as well have left a paperweight. Or one of those stones humans were obsessed with. The ones they drew eyes on and stuck hair to.”

“Or the time they worshipped a potato man, remember that?"

The Library was increasingly full of mocking laughter.

Lorien gritted his teeth, taking it until he could take it no longer. They assumed he was weak because he was young. They assumed he could be disrespected because they believed he had been handed the throne. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

“This is MY throne!” He declared with a voice like thunder, and a natural dominance that rarely, if ever showed itself on his visage. He may not have been ancient, but Maddox was right. Lorien had a certain claim to power, there was a charisma and a ruthlessness running deep inside him no longer dormant.

“Just because you're left as caretaker…” Gerald had turned back to face him and taken several steps back as instinct told him he had pushed things too far.