business, unless the seven ordered otherwise. “If he sticks his head up…”
“Would you like it delivered alive or dead?” Brandt’s question had merit.
“Alive preferably,” Rogue stated, though it wouldn’t bother him in the slightest if he were dead. Fiona, on the other hand, wanted to deliver that death herself. His little sváss deserved to have what she wanted. “Maimed is fine.”
Brandt chuckled, a snap of his fingers bringing a new server to their table along with two steins of beer. Though he hadn’t asked, nor did he have any intention of drinking it, he nodded amiably to the other vampire. It was better to observe the niceties.
“I will do what I can for you, m’lord,” Brandt stated, and it was as good as his bond. While he would not go into Eamon’s hold to fetch the little shit, he would definitely deliver him if he put himself out in public. “I would request a boon of you.”
Of course he would. The cost of doing business. Sparing him a half-glance, Rogue gave him a curt nod to continue speaking.
“Rumor says war is coming.”
“Rumor often speaks out of turn and without informed consent.”
Brandt grinned before slamming back the whole of the stein of beer that had been delivered to him. After setting it down, he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth before continuing. “Agreed. But if it is coming, I would like to request that you not ask me to choose a side.”
Rogue eyed him in truth rather than a passing glance. As big as he was, the man still ducked his head rather than hold Rogue’s gaze. Few could hold any of their gazes—another aspect of his little sváss’s personality that he adored. They didn’t frighten her.
Pissed her off? Definitely.
Intrigued her? Quite probably.
Frighten her? No. Even when they triggered her fears, it was not them who provoked her terror.
It did not matter how many centuries he and Brandt had known each other, the assassin could not meet his gaze for longer than a few seconds.
“That’s not a boon anyone can grant. Even if Alfred agreed, you would need the word of the other six.” And any number of little rebellious factions who might try to take advantage of any battles.
“I am aware,” Brandt admitted, casting a glance at Rogue’s still untouched stein of beer.
With a gentle push, Rogue nudged it over to him. “How many have you already secured agreements with?”
In mid-reach to take the stein, Brandt froze. He had two choices—answer the question and admit how many he had been in contact with and risk offending Rogue, or deny he had any and risk offending them by thinking he could play this game.
There really was no win for him.
Another sigh escaped him. “Three.”
“Who?”
“Would it be possibl—”
“No,” Rogue told him. “I will not grant you this boon. I expect you to admit that you had seen and spoken to me if they or theirs came to you directly.”
Though, of all of the seven, only Alfred shared his power with others. The other six were not so giving.
Or at least they hadn’t been. It had been a long time since Rogue had to face one of them. He gave Brandt a moment to collect his thoughts as he scanned the club again. It wouldn’t be a stretch to find one of them here. In the years since Alfred went to sleep though, Rogue had only heard of two being active.
Eamon and Gemma.
Both kept to themselves. Eamon with his hoarding, he loved nothing more than to conquer the wealth of each new age, and amused himself by amassing and destroying whole fortunes only to amass another one. Gemma, however, was far more secretive and avoided the other six at all costs. Rogue had met her precisely once. She and Alfred had been dancing around each other over some inconsequential piece of land.
When Rogue had questioned Alfred about it, he’d only said Gemma needed an excuse. She was lonely, and the haggling gave her a reason to talk to him.
The negotiations went on for three years.
Then ended as abruptly as they began.
Gemma had been an odd guest, but Rogue only had to deal with her occasionally. She’d been fond of Maddox to a point, but that was also before Maddox had needed Alfred’s bite. Shaking his head, he focused back on where they were.
The seven didn’t get noticed unless they wanted to be, but they were also hard to hide if you knew what to look for. He did.
They weren’t here.
At