I raise my hand in the air. “As his demon spawn, I very much protest to being called ‘demon spawn.’”
Ignoring me, Dimitri continues. “The world can never know the truth about your heritage. When Dracula agreed to take you in as his own, relations between vampires and the other monsters were not nearly as tense.”
“Tense.” I snort once at the absurdity of that word. “They’re butchering us.”
“And what will they do if they discover the truth about you?” Dracula cocks one dark eyebrow as his shrewd eyes narrow imperceptibly. “They won’t kill you, Violet. At least, not right away. Some will wish to use your powers for their own purposes. Others will hope to get favors from Lucifer and Hera, unknowing that the former wishes that you were dead and the latter is unable to confess to being your mother.”
Shifting on the uncomfortable seat, I drill my dad with a penetrating glare. “This doesn’t make any sense. I’m a vampire. I drink blood.”
Once more, it’s Dimitri that answers. “You do.” He nods, moving from his spot in the corner to stand beside my father, who still reclines on the couch. He’s every inch the graceful, elegant predator with his frosty ice-blue stare and his pure white hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. “Your birth father, Lucifer, is the creator of all monsters, including vampires.”
“Are you saying that Lucifer is a vampire?” I gape, struggling to understand their words. This entire thing sounds insane. Half of me wants to believe that Dracula’s pulling one over on me. Any second now, he’ll break into peals of laughter, point a finger at me, and say, “Gotcha.” Maybe this is part of the Roaring. Maybe this is how they’ll finally break me.
“Lucifer is a demon. Not just any demon, but the devil himself,” Dimitri corrects. “But, yes, he does drink blood.”
“You’ll come to discover that you’re stronger than the average vampire,” Dracula adds. “Faster. Smarter.” Okay, yeah, that one gets a snort out of me, but Dracula continues on as if I hadn’t interrupted. “You’ll discover, over time, that you have more powers as well.”
“Like what?” I whisper. I don’t even want the powers I have now, let alone new ones. Both humans and monsters alike fear those that are different. And frankly, I like my heart in my body and my head on my shoulders just as much as the next person. I don’t want to die because of who my parents are.
But unfortunately, life isn’t always fair.
“Your mother is Hera,” Dimitri says. “She’s the Goddess of Marriage and Birth.”
I groan low in my throat, dropping my face into my hands. “Please don’t tell me that my superpower is popping out babies left and right. I don’t think my vagina can handle that.”
Dracula looks slightly queasy, but Dimitri rolls his eyes. “No, of course not. But it could explain why you have more than one mate.”
“Mate?” My father sits up abruptly, glancing between the two of us with narrowed eyes. “What the hell is he talking about? When did you get a mate? Or mates? I’ll rip his balls straight from his body! Or their balls!”
“Dad,” I warn, “stop it.”
“You do realize I’ve been called Vlad the Impaler for a reason, right? And it’s not because of my sex skills.”
“Oh my god, Dad, seriously?” I cover my mouth to keep from vomiting, especially when he exchanges a conspiratorial wink with Dimitri.
“A little murder has never hurt anyone before,” he says lightly, eyes already gleaming at the thought. I wonder what he’d do if he discovered Dimitri Gray had just face fucked me the day before in the headmaster’s office. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be so “buddy buddy” after that.
“We’re not murdering my…errr…mates.”
“So you admit you have them.”
“Nope! We’re not doing this! Fuck, Dad, you’re so embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing.” Dracula pouts and reclines back on the sofa. “I’m a pretty damn cool dad.”
“You give me emotional whiplash,” I counter immediately. “Sometimes, you’re saying stuff like ‘cool dad,’ and other times, you’re snapping my neck.”
“It’s called tough love,” he responds petulantly. “Have you heard of it?”
“Enough of this,” Dimitri interrupts, taking another step forward until he’s between us. “We need to get Violet back to the arena before her hour is up.”
“Does this mean I beat the second round?” I can’t help but ask, and when Dimitri nods once, I release a deafening squeal. “Fuck, yes! Violet for the win!”
Dracula pinches the bridge of his nose—the gesture reminding me eerily of Vin—and shakes his head sadly. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Nothing, because you chose me and you can’t return me now.” I stick my tongue out at him.
“I wouldn’t want to,” Dracula says, surprising me with his earnestness. “You’re my daughter, and I love you.”
My heart stutters to an abrupt halt at his words before taking off once more with a vengeance.
“I don’t know what the third game is,” Dimitri cuts in, lips tightening into a thin line. “They haven’t told me any details about it, which only makes me more suspicious. You need to keep an eye out, Violet. A lot of the people here—including the monsters in charge of the Roaring—would like nothing more than to see you dead and Dracula punished.”
“What’s new?” I ask dryly. “They—”
I never get to finish my sentence.
The room around me begins to rattle, pictures flying off the walls.
“What the hell?” I squeal as my chair topples to the side, propelling me to the ground. Immediately, Dimitri is crouched protectively over my body just as the room explodes in flames.
Red and orange consume the entire room, spouting like errant fireworks. They hiss and stutter as the room begins to vibrate. Smoke enters my nostrils, and I bring my shirt up to cover my mouth and nose. Dimitri remains on top of me, his body protecting me from wayward objects. Each grunt and hiss of pain
