Reign of Night (Thorne Hill #7) - Emily Goodwin Page 0,64
through your storage units. You’ve been holding onto things for centuries…it would be like going through a museum.”
“I have a few paintings I should give to a museum, come to think of it. No one is enjoying them sealed and stored in the dark. Anonymously give them, I should add.”
He’s told me before he likes keeping his age more or less a secret, and he didn’t put his real age on his vampire registration. Only vampires over five hundred years old are able to hold anyone spellbound, and technically, Lucas would have more restrictions if people knew his real age. There’s no way to prove he’s older than he says he is or if he were actually a younger vampire claiming to be older.
Vampires are able to sense each other’s ages, down to a few years at least. A younger vampire might not be able to zero in on an exact number when it comes to Lucas, but he’s been undead long enough to be able to sense a younger vampire’s age with impressive accuracy.
“That would be amazing, and as much as I want to say put them in our house, they’d be much safer in a museum, and it would be so cool to know the rest of the world can enjoy something historic like that, too.”
“We’ll have to take Elena to as many museums as we can.” He glances at me, smiling. “And I can explain history to her as it really happened.”
“You mean history books aren’t accurate? Shocker there,” I say with a laugh. “History at the Academy is documented differently. How we learn about the Salem Witch Trials is much different than how the nons learn about it. What transpired in Salem is more or less correct, but the real witches…you don’t read about them in history books.”
“She’s going to be a smart child,” Lucas says and puts his hand on my stomach again. “And between the both of us, she’s going to be very well rounded in her education.”
“She will be.” I smile, really enjoying talking like this, like having a vampire and a Nephilim for parents can be a good thing. I get a notification that my hotdog and fries are on their way right as we’re pulling up to the house in Lincoln Park.
There’s a pearl-white Mercedes parked in the street with a sparkly license-plate holder, letting me know the car belongs to Eliza. This house has a small garage, but Lucas needs to park in it so we can close the door, sealing off the sunlight before he can get out.
The interior garage door opens as soon as we get out of the McLaren.
“Good, you’re here early.” Eliza’s hair is twisted up on the top of her head in a series of intricate braids, making her look like some sort of Elven royalty. Her deep blue dress is a contrast to the pastel she usually wears, and she looks freaking gorgeous. “You need to fucking see this.”
“What is it?” Lucas rushes out, hurrying toward the house but stopping to wait for me.
“You’ll see,” Eliza goes on, pursing her lips.
“Tell me,” Lucas demands, and Eliza has no choice but to answer.
“William fucking Martin, on the news.” She lets out an annoyed sigh and walks through the house into the family room. The metal blinds are down, keeping out all natural light. Unlike vampires, I can’t see in the dark. Conjuring a string of white light, I hold it up to light my way.
“What is he doing now?” I ask as the voice of the news reporter on TV echoes through the hall. The live coverage breaks to a commercial right as we get into the family room. Eliza picks up the TV remote.
“He’s trying to legally punish anyone who’s married to or works for a vampire.”
Chapter 18
“What?” I look at the TV, not blinking. Binx moves around my feet, rubbing against my ankles in an attempt to calm me down.
“See for yourself,” Eliza says and rewinds the live TV, going back to moments before we came, pressing play in the middle of a news anchor’s speech.
“…in a radical move by the notoriously conservative Senator William Martin, comes a new bill—spearheaded by his son and local politician Scott Martin—that would legally forfeit the right to provide both health insurance and overall insurance coverage to anyone married to or willingly employed by a vampire.”
“What?” I echo, staring at the TV. “No. This isn’t real. It can’t be real.” Lucas steps in closer to me, resting