Reborn Yesterday - Tessa Bailey Page 0,91

slammed a fist there to start it pumping correctly again, his body slumping in relief when it sputtered and functioned once more, if dully.

He closed his eyes and thought of her before climbing out of the car. Of the excitement on her beautiful face when someone bid on her white, silk dress. Her bravery climbing onto his lap and offering her neck while he rattled the silver chains like a beast. Her peacefulness when she slept, her voice reciting words from a movie along with Maureen O’Hara. The way her palms felt on his face, in his hair, on his shoulders.

With a miserable sound, he propelled himself from the car and approached the hut, staring up at the overhead, pinhole-sized camera until he heard the click. He opened the door and crossed to another, passing through and traveling down a set of stairs that led to steel elevator doors.

Floor after floor ticked by while he worked to keep his burning ire under control. Oddly, he felt no apprehension over seeing his sire again after so long, like he’d always imagined he would. He was no longer a misguided youth. He’d been out in the world cleaning up the havoc wreaked by malevolent leadership and every ounce of hero worship he’d once had for the king was now extinguished. All that remained was a demand for answers and the urgent motivation to keep Ginny safe.

The elevator doors separated, revealing a suited vampire, hands folded at his waist. His eyes might as well have been made of glass for all they gave away. He simply inclined his head at Jonas, turned on a wing tip and strode away through the high-ceilinged foyer. Jonas followed, unintimidated by the lack of greeting. After all, he knew the process well. Anyone requiring an audience with the king was first made to understand they were insignificant, no matter how old or young. A lot like he treated his public.

The sound of their footsteps was muffled by the royal blue carpeting. Lights flickered on the wall and cast shadows that shifted as they walked. Stone staircases crisscrossed overhead, leading to drawing rooms and sleeping quarters. Somewhere a single violin played a haunting melody and Jonas rolled his eyes because it was all so goddamn dramatic.

One of his less important reasons for leaving the High Order was their refusal to update their antiquated existence. The members of the union and their groupies haunted this place like specters, their robes dragging behind them while they drank blood from gold chalices and the like. Frankly the gold chalices were the most embarrassing part. Show him the rule that said vampires weren’t allowed to shop at Bed Bath & Beyond.

For all their showboating, however, the High Order was dangerous. Each and every one of them possessed superhuman strength and knowledge that was only earned by centuries of living. He might find them and their frippery somewhat ridiculous, but he wouldn’t let down his guard or underestimate them.

Only a fool would do so.

The suited man led Jonas down the far right corridor and down a set of stairs that expanded toward the bottom, emptying into the Great Hall.

And there they were, right where he’d left them, four of earth’s oldest vampires sitting in high-back, velvet inlaid thrones lining the far back wall. Jonas was surprised to find the chair beside the king—his chair—still remained empty, but he showed no outward reaction.

They’d been anticipating his arrival, that much was obvious.

The High Order didn’t assemble in the Great Hall unless there was an important matter at hand, but here they were, watching Jonas with an air of expectancy.

Jonas’s sire was tight-lipped and impassive, his salt and pepper hair in waves around his shoulders, though his eyes were sharp with humor. As always. Watching, measuring, deciding how best to amuse himself. If there was a fleeting flicker of affection in his sire’s eyes, he either imagined it or didn’t care.

The other three chairs were occupied by faces he recognized. Faces that hadn’t aged a day over the course of a century or longer, in some cases. There was Griselda, a German female who’d been Silenced during the Second World War. David, a Scotsman whose wife had been so distraught when he took ill, she’d hunted down and bargained with a vampire to Silence him, so he’d live on forever. Unfortunately, that same vampire had failed to successfully Silence her, too. Lastly, there was Devon, a steely-eyed black man from Chicago who’d once been a roadie