“You can get away with putting something plain on,” Riley says. “Maybe just a black or gray dress would work.”
Something is off here, and I don't like it. But I'll trust Riley's judgment. What if the arriving people are some sort of supreme hunter council? No, their footsteps don't sound heavy and human like the hunters’ do. They're too quiet, too predatory, too graceful. The newcomers could be other Nightsides who have heard about the new coven, or Truebloods. But how would they get back into town?
Riley’s rocking the professional look in record time. Ever since taking Dominic's blood, he's been three times as strong, as graceful, and in control. I don't deserve him, and yet, I can't walk away. We share too much. The pressure, the stress, and above all, our nature.
But I tried to control him.
I had the urge to make him fully mine, by overpowering his thoughts with my own.
And that's one thing I haven't confessed yet.
“Truly,” the woman says down below, now on the porch. “Has your master not educated you on who the High Council is?”
“Let me fetch my master,” Daeshawn says, and not without a hint of disgust. This newcomer is treating him like the lowest servant, and one who might deserve a whipping. Yikes. And Daeshawn is anything but. He’s a Nightside, and a brilliant one at that.
“Ready,” Riley says, combing his hair to the side just as Daeshawn's feet climb the steps and onto the balcony.
He knocks on our bedroom door. “Master,” he says with an Igor tone. “You have guests, waiting for you down at the front entrance.”
“One second.” I pull on a plain gray dress, feeling like an ugly duckling next to Riley. Why shouldn't I dress as nice as him? We’re both running this coven. I have plenty of dresses tailored for me by the Beaumonts' former shop in downtown Moon's Peak. We both have plenty of money, just waiting in Dominic's former bank accounts. I comb my hair a bit with my hand before I answer the door.
Daeshawn stands there in his black slacks and white dress shirt, rocking on his sneakers. Yes, he wears sneakers, despite his new role as the head of managing Moon's Peak lumber industry. Turns out he's a graduate of a prestigious business school, and he was on his way to a bright future before coming into contact with a Trueblood date and awakening his Nightside mutation. He's been on the run for the past two decades, trying not to hurt people and doing whatever he can to support himself.
“Your Highness,” he says, bowing before me.
“Stop it. I heard how they treated you,” I say. “Ridiculous.”
“I guess they look down on Nightsides?” Daeshawn asks, looking between me and Riley. “They know I’m a lowly Nightside and therefore second class. They stepped back outside, by the way, but they're all waiting outside the front door and are demanding to come in immediately.”
“These people are Truebloods?” My heart leaps into my chest. This is bad, and Riley knows something about it. “How did they know you're a Nightside? I mean, you can't tell the difference unless you hang around one for too long and see it for yourself.”
Daeshawn shrugs. “She said she could smell it.”
“Who?” Riley asks, pushing ahead of me. He doesn't mean to shove me out of the way, but he's desperate to get out there and settle whatever's happening. “My father couldn't even smell the difference, and he's an ancient vampire.”
Daeshawn motions over the balcony to the entryway below. “These Truebloods are even older? We'd better deal with it. I don't know why they're here, but it's serious business.”
“Thanks,” I tell Daeshawn, following Riley out the door. But as I step onto the balcony that overlooks the entry hall, Riley holds out his hand.
“Walk behind me,” he hisses, almost inaudible.
I look to him, and his dark eyes are dead serious. Why? I want to ask, but Riley leans close and whispers in my ear.
And his words send shudders down my spine. “Because the High Council are the rulers of all the Trueblood covens. And if they see a Nightside in charge, they won't let any of us live to see the next day. But if we don't obey them and let them inside, we’ll face a death penalty.”
CHAPTER TWO
I’m full of scared insects darting around the black hole in my torso. The hole opens wider, and I'm going to fall inside and suffocate.
The leaders of the Trueblood covens are here?
Daeshawn has clearly heard Riley's words, because he backs into the balcony railing and utters a few silent and creative curses. “I'll tell the others.”
“Thank you,” Riley tells him, assuming a leader tone. “I will speak with them in a moment. There are a couple things that this might be about. We must call a mandatory meeting, in the dining room, immediately. The cooks aren't here, so you and the other Nightsides will need to get refreshments ready.”
Daeshawn nods and I understand.
Some covens kill Nightsides, but others keep them as servants and slaves. Riley told me that once. Us Nightsides will need to look like servants, like second-class citizens. While I know that Truebloods fear Nightsides for their mind powers and often kill them, I also know that keeping Nightside servants and slaves is another way to keep us under control. We’re excellent hunters, and the Truebloods will take advantage of that. It must be a common thing with other Trueblood covens, which I have heard little about until now.
“What about me?” I ask.
Riley frowns. “Just walk behind me and stand at attention. Olivia, I don't know how effective you'll be against these people. They're much older than Dominic. And the older a vampire becomes, the more powerful they get.”
I can't argue. We're only a week into this, and we don't even have a name for this coven yet. How can Riley convince this High Council that things are hunky dory, when he's the only Trueblood left here with about
