Blood and Wine - Margot Scott Page 0,16

whirls the silver keychain around his finger, glaring back and forth between his disobedient children. He’s brought them down to the cellar to give them a talking to. It’s a speech he could easily perform in his office but having a bloodthirsty vampire at his back certainly helps punctuate his points of contention.

“I thought I’d made myself clear before Mariah’s arrival,” Edward says. “But apparently you both need everything spelled out for you.”

Lilliana sighs, arms folded, outwardly aloof. It’s an art she’s perfected over the years, masking her emotions with indifference. But her insides tell a different story. Her heart is pounding. She hates being down here, the same way a fast-food junkie would squirm if they had to watch a cow having its throat cut.

Christopher stands motionless like a toy soldier with swampy armpits. He knows he’s in for it.

Frankly, these family dramas bore me. It’s the middle of the day, and I want them to leave so I can watch Mariah from the twilight realm until she falls asleep. But I prefer not to leave my body unattended around this crowd, even if I can’t control what they do to me.

Tonight, I will test Mariah to see if she’s capable of retrieving Edward’s keys while in her astral form. Katherine claims she’s not strong enough, but I’ll discern that for myself. At the very least, I can begin earning her trust.

“Whether I choose to disclose certain aspects of my plans to one or both of you is at my discretion,” Edward says. “As my children, it is your duty to do as I say, and to trust that I have the situation under control.” He looks to his daughter. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lilliana?”

“I wanted to see if she’d predict the arrow’s trajectory,” she says.

“And. Did she?”

“Maybe. She knew exactly when to duck and roll, so that’s something.”

Edward rubs his chin. “I cannot condone your acting out against her without my consent. But I appreciate your motivations.”

Lilliana’s mouth slants into the closest shape it will ever come to resembling a smile.

“Two thousand dollars off this month’s allowance,” Edward says.

Christopher scoffs. “That’s all she gets for trying to kill the little bitch?”

Lilliana smirks. Poor Christopher. Always playing runner-up to Edward’s firstborn. His favorite. His Venus fly trap. When Lilliana was fourteen, Edward made her strip in front of a full-length mirror and proceeded to map every spot on her body that needed improvement. She repeated the process herself every night from that point forward, vowing to eradicate every imperfection in an effort to become Daddy’s perfect weapon.

“As for you,” Edward says, turning to his son. “Pissing all over Mariah’s bed is in direct violation of the orders I gave you.”

“Disgusting,” Lilliana murmurs.

Christopher seethes. “I was sending her a message.”

“And what message was that?” Edward snaps. “That she should leave as quickly as possible? How does that serve us?”

The boy purses his lips. Edward moves closer, getting in his son’s face.

“You are a spoiled, envious child who would rather throw a tantrum than consider the bigger picture.”

Edward unlocks the door to my cage.

“Get in,” he says to Christopher.

Lilliana’s gaze widens. Christopher’s throat contracts as he swallows. He’s tall enough and likely strong enough to give his father a run for his money. But what keeps him from shoving the older man into my cage and closing the door is the impact of seventeen years of abuse and manipulation.

This is hardly the first time Edward has brought the two of them down here, though it’s the first time he’s forcing one of them to get close to me. Normally, he makes them stand outside the cage and watch in horror as I sink my teeth into a disposable member of their staff.

Christopher shuffles through the doorway, his heartbeat hammering in in his chest. I can smell his fear, as well as his blood, and it makes my stomach muscles tighten.

“If I loosen those chains,” Edward says, “what do you think will happen?”

“He’ll kill me,” Christopher says quietly.

“Kill is a pretty word for what that creature will do to you.” Edward presses a button on the control panel, loosening my chains. I don’t want to help him prove his point to his son, but my hunger is like a force unto itself that can be neither controlled nor contained.

My fangs extend, nicking my lower gums. He smells like everything I want for supper.

I hurl myself toward Christopher. The boy screams. The chains aren’t fully loosened, so I can’t