A Shade of Vampire 81 A Bringer of Night - Bella Forrest Page 0,46

by their presence. Whenever I looked at the six-year-old, I tried to imagine him going against his brother in the Blood Arena. Weren’t they supposed to have an age limit in that place?

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied. “Though it is a pleasure to meet you!”

Simmon smiled. “Esme. Esme Vaughn. You’re one of the outsiders.”

“That I am. I’m honored to meet you all.”

“Esme, meet my uncle first,” Kalon interjected, pointing at the adult Aeternae first. “This is Aganon. My mother’s youngest brother. And you’ve already met Simmon…”

“You did a wonderful job with the lake house,” I told Simmon, offering a warm smile.

The Aeternae’s eyebrows popped up as he looked at me, then at Kalon. “You took her to the lake house? Is there something we should know?”

My cheeks flushed as I coughed lightly, hoping Kalon might change the subject and focus on Ansel, who was still bound, gagged, and standing awkwardly between us. Kalon, however, simply ignored Simmon and continued with the introductions.

“This sharp-tongued scab here is Tudyk, aged ten,” he said, “and this one’s our youngest. Moore. He’s only six, and already our mother’s primary headache.”

“Well, I had to take over from you,” Moore shot back, crossing his arms and raising his chin in defiance. It was Moore that Kalon had fought with in the Blood Arena. I could only imagine what sort of warrior he’d become in a few more years.

“So, you’re the one who fought Kalon in the Blood Arena. Not once, but twice!” I said, my eyes wide as I stared at Moore. “How is that even possible?”

Aganon chuckled. “Moore is extremely precocious and talented. The Blood Arena’s referees didn’t want the boy to fight, but he snuck in several times and convinced them he could hold his own there.”

“My age was never an impediment. I’m ready to go in there again. It’s been a few months since I fought Kalon,” Moore said.

“Maybe improve your technique first,” Kalon replied. He didn’t seem too happy about the idea of fighting his kid brother again—not that I could blame him. This was pretty savage, in hindsight. Only the Spartans had had such a warlike culture that encouraged children to fight. However, the Spartans had been humans, significantly limited. The Aeternae were peak predators. They were different.

The brothers looked a lot alike. The dark hair with faint silver streaks—Aganon had them, too, though his were slightly more pronounced. The deep blue eyes and playful smiles. The sullen frowns and wiry figures. And they all smiled a similar smile—charming, no doubt, but filled with secrets and unspoken thoughts. None, however, were more mysterious than Kalon.

“Dear nephew, what’s the deal with Ansel? How badly did he piss you off to end up like this?” Aganon asked, scratching the back of his neck as he measured Ansel from head to toe with an amused expression.

“Ansel here decided to become a Darkling,” Kalon said, and the humor was virtually obliterated from the room. Silence replaced it. A dark, cold silence. Angry silence. Shocked silence. Not that I could blame the guys. I probably would’ve felt the same way, had my own brother turned out to be a member of a murderous cult.

“Say what, now?” Simmon replied.

“Excuse me?!” Petra’s voice cut through with a spine-tingling echo. We all looked up to find her at the top of the stairs, clad in a simple black dress, a ruby brooch glinting on her chest. But it was the look in her eyes that made me still. She tucked a silver lock behind her ear as she descended the stairs, staring at Ansel.

“I caught him during a Darkling raid, Mother,” Kalon said. “He had the black-and-white thread. He was part of a blood slave ring operated by the Darklings up north.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tudyk gawked at Ansel. “Dude, have you lost your marbles?!”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Simmon snarled.

“Enough!” Petra shouted, rendering everyone silent. I shrank inside my leather combat suit, suddenly feeling out of place. One of these things is not like the others. A vampire among the Visentis Aeternae.

She reached us with steady steps, hands clasped together. She looked at Ansel first, then at Kalon and me. “Esme. You look well,” she said, her tone flat. “It is good to see you.”

Somehow, I didn’t believe her—though that wasn’t really her fault. I’d just brought home her Darkling son. That was obviously a lot to take in. I smiled faintly and bowed before her. “Milady, it’s good to see you again, as