Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
So where do I want it to take me?
My first instinct is Syrsee, but it’s not the right one. I know where Syrsee is. I have physical access to her. I can talk to her any time I want if I take myself out of this.
But the person I don’t have access to in the physical world is Paul.
And the moment I think his name in my head, we’re back in that hotel room. The one where I woke up from being second-born.
Paul and I are on the bed again. Backs up against the headboard. So close, our shoulders are touching.
“Aren’t you going to move away from me, Ryet?”
I shrug, looking straight ahead. “What’s the point. I’m stuck with you forever.”
“You’re the one who came to me.”
“I know.” I’m kind of snarling at him. I feel like a much angrier man since turning into a vampire. “Because I have questions.”
“So? Ask them.”
I feel like he’s a much angrier guy since I became a vampire too. “Why are you angry?”
“I’m not angry.”
“You sound angry.”
“It’s just the tendency.”
“Of? Because that doesn’t explain anything.”
“Master and slave. You and me. Father and son. But”—Paul looks at me—“please don’t think of me as your father. That would make our future… difficult. And… out of my comfort zone.”
I scoff. “Don’t worry. I do not think of you as a father.”
“Good. Because it wasn’t actually me who created you, it was the Darkness.”
“Doesn’t really answer why you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry. I’m… you’re… challenging me.”
I turn my head to look at him, chuckling. “I’m seriously not.”
“It’s not a conscious thing, Ryet. It’s just your monstrous nature. Like two stallions meeting out on the plains. Only one is needed, after all. One stud per herd.”
I’m making a face of disgust. “Herd?”
“If we had a herd, it would be easier. Right now, all we have is Syrsee. So we must share.”
“You’re kidding, right? Tell me this is a joke.”
“It’s temporary. Black witches are hard to farm.”
“Farm?”
“We need many more, Ryet. But don’t worry. We have all the time in the world. And now that Syrsee is on board—”
“Oh”—I laugh—“you have grossly misunderstood what’s happening here. Syrsee is not on board with anything you’ve got planned. That’s for certain.”
“Well, it’s like this, Ryet. She doesn’t have much of a choice. You fed her the jars?”
My stomach clenches up. “What did you do?”
“I did what I had to. I gave her a push. And you a push as well.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The babies, Ryet. We need more Black witches. It’s critical for my plan.”
“What plan?”
“Need-to-know.”
“Fuck that. I’ve got wings, Paul. It’s time for me to know.”
He turns in bed, lowering himself into a more horizontal position. His smile is wide and genuine. Which surprises me, because he’s typically a less-than-sincere guy. “We. Are. The American Vampires. It’s a brand-new dynasty. By now, several things have happened. One, Josep is with the Darkness, making an offering. We’re bartering with it to get power. And two, the Obscurati know you’ve been born. You, Ryet, are the very first American Vampire. I’m in charge, of course, since I am your maker. But you…” He’s nodding his head at me. “You are the one we’ve been waiting for. And together, you and Syrsee are the parents of our bloodline. A brand-new bloodline. Or, well, you will be. As soon as she begins having babies.”
I concentrate on this last part of his little speech first. “Why are you acting like Syrsee can just create a whole coven of witches in no time at all? Because human reproduction doesn’t work that way.”
“Are we human, Ryet?”
I get that sick feeling in my stomach again. “Don’t play with me.” These words come out angry and low.
“We’re not human, you know this. She will have your baby. Your specific baby. That is a given. But there are other ways to make more of us. And that is what we need. A population explosion, Ryet. We need minions.”
“What are you talking about? Like… halfbreeds?”
“No!” He laughs. “And you know what I’m talking about. You were one, Ryet. A scion, of course. We can make dozens of them at once.”
“How? You said you planned me from birth and that’s the only reason it worked.”
“Does one put all one’s eggs in the same basket, Ryet?”
“Stop talking about yourself in the third person. You sound ridiculous.”
“The sentiment remains. I have dozens of scions, Ryet. All we need now is the blood to take them across the finish line.”
“What?”
“I did not pin all my hopes and dreams on you. I have more. But, to be clear, you will always be my first.”
I look away, staring out the sunny window. “So you… and me…”
“Oh, we are. It’s a special bond, Ryet.”
I turn to look at him again. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m not jealous of your stupid fucking scions. I’m asking if I’m tied to you forever or if I’m allowed to just… fuck off.”