I didn’t look at Brigit, but I wanted to. Instead, I claimed my seat next to Sig and glanced at him, hoping he might give me some clue as to how I’d done. His face told me nothing, but once I turned away, he reached over and gave my hand a small squeeze. The action was completed with such graceful stealth that his hand was already gone by the time I turned my head to confirm it was there.
My mind was still swirling from the lingering traces of his touch, and it took me a moment to regain my composure and remember my young ward was being grilled by the elders.
“Do you feel you would serve the council well and abide by all the rules set forth by this, the council of elders, and by the Tribunal?” Hansel asked.
“I do,” Brigit replied, and I was impressed by her calm demeanor.
“Do you—?” Hansel’s next question was stopped midstream by Juan Carlos.
“Do you feel your position as a ward of one of the Tribunal leaders should allow you some sort of preferential treatment?” he demanded.
The calm that had washed over me with Sig’s touch disappeared in an instant. What was Juan Carlos doing? He’d had his chance to say what he wanted in private. This was not the place to make a scene.
“N-no.” Unease was apparent in her reply this time.
“Would you be here, asking us for this, if she hadn’t initiated the process?”
“I-I…don’t know.”
“Be honest with us, Miss Stewart.”
“But I—”
This time it was my turn to interrupt someone. “You’re out of line, Juan Carlos.” The gasps that ran down both sides of the room were definitely real, and not for dramatic impact.
The Spanish vampire gripped both of his chair arms, the wood creaking from the force of his grasp. “How dare—”
Sig raised a hand and silenced Juan Carlos’s protest. “My most sincere apologies to the council. From time to time, I’m afraid, my fellow Tribunal leaders forget themselves. Council Elder Hansel, do you believe the judgment can continue without Leaders Secret and Juan Carlos present?”
Both Juan Carlos and I stopped shooting each other death stares long enough to turn our attention to Sig. He was dismissing us? That was unheard of. All council decisions went before the whole of the Tribunal. Sure, he was the leader, but we were a governing unit.
“It would be most unconventional,” Hansel admitted, his words a subdued translation of the shocked expression on my face. When Sig did not reply, Hansel’s gaze darted nervously to the elder next to him, a female vampire named Rebecca with whom I was familiar.
“It may be in the best interests of the council to eliminate any further disturbances,” Rebecca suggested, her French accent making the entire statement sound very…proper.
“Tribunal Leaders Secret and Juan Carlos,” Sig said, looking from left to right. “You are excused.”
Chapter Eight
Excused.
Just like that, Juan Carlos and I were on the wrong side of the council chamber’s doors, having been shut out by an apologetic-looking warden. What had just happened? First Juan Carlos opened his stupid, deformed mouth, and now I had been kicked out of a meeting I’d requested.
“I hope you’re happy,” I snapped.
“Happy?” He was pacing the width of the corridor, the clip of his pricey leather shoes echoing against the polished stone walls. Clip-clop-clip turn. Clip-clop-clip stop. “I will never be happy as long as you’re involved.”
“What is your fucking problem?” In previous years, I would never have dreamed of being so coarse with him, but I was getting sick of his surly attitude, and we were technically equals now. But tell that to him and his massive ego, because he still treated me like dirty gum on the bottom of his shoe.
Juan Carlos got close, closer to me than he’d ever been in our seven-year acquaintance. He was mere inches away, and with him standing in front of me, the imposing size of his frame was evident for the first time. For years I’d only seen him seated. In fact, I could only remember seeing him on his feet once before this, and I had suffered too much blood loss to pay much attention to his build. Now with him towering over me—anger coming off him in tangible waves—it was hard to notice anything else.
“You,” he spat the word out. “You are my fucking problem.” Hearing the profanity spoken in his lingering Spanish accent with his hatred unrestrained in his tone and his rough masculine voice barely able to maintain a whisper, I shuddered.
“I haven’t done anything to you.”
“You exist. That’s bad enough.”
I took a half step back, but he didn’t give me the space I was seeking. He prowled closer, backing me up until I was against the stone wall and had nowhere left to go. I didn’t like moving away from him in the first place, but his proximity made me uneasy, and I wanted some distance in between us. Now, he had me cornered.
“Step back,” I commanded.
He placed one hand on either side of my face and leaned in. If it had been anyone else, I might have taken the move as a come-on and assumed he was trying to kiss me. But there was nothing sexual about what Juan Carlos was doing. It was not lust he was projecting—it was pure menace. In spite of my best efforts to appear fearless, a cold sweat trickled down my back.
“Make me.”
The hair on my arms stood on end. “Are you challenging me?”
He stopped moving at those words. His pupils got huge, blotting out his dark brown irises. For a second I thought he might bite me since the inky blackness filling his eyes was a sure sign of hunger and rage. Instead he balled his hand into a fist and punched the wall beside my head so hard his knuckles were buried in the rock.
“I asked you a question, Tribunal Leader.” I kept my voice steady, but there was no hiding the way my pulse was racing. If he decided to challenge me, I would lose. I had no doubt in my mind.
Juan Carlos lowered his head towards my neck, his nose grazing the thin skin, sending a renewed wave of shivers through my body. I waited for his nose to lift and his teeth to take their place, but it never happened. He took a deep breath, absorbing my scent through my pulse point, then finally took a step back.
“I would never dream of challenging you.” The formality of his tone made it hard to believe that mere seconds earlier he’d had me pinned against the wall with his fangs barred.
“I should hope not.”
It was strictly forbidden within the council for members of the Tribunal to challenge each other. Since the only way to become a member of the Tribunal was to kill someone already on it, to have two members attempt to kill each other wouldn’t do anyone any good. The potential for a power vacuum was too great, and as such it was out of the question for one member to challenge another.
Juan Carlos knew the rules better than anyone. Thankfully, so did I.
“But I would.” He wasn’t looking at me now. Instead he focused on straightening the cuffs of his Armani shirt. When my silence spread past the point of comfort, he proceeded. “If I wasn’t who I am, and he hadn’t forbidden it.”
“He?” I didn’t want to continue this conversation. I didn’t want to be alone in the hall with him a moment longer than I needed to be. But still, there was something compelling about what he said. “You mean Sig?”
“Yes. Your benefactor. He is the only reason you’re allowed to keep that precious little pulse of yours.” He looked up, his black eyes bright with contempt.
“Sig… He… I…” I was flustered. I’d always known Sig had a special interest in me, but I’d never understood what it meant. Hearing Juan Carlos tell me that Sig’s attention was the only reason I was still alive was a little jarring. I liked to think there was more to my success in the Tribunal than the threat of its leader.
“Yes.” A cool voice joined us in the hall, though I hadn’t heard the door open. Maybe it hadn’t. “What about Sig?” The man himself was leaning against the wall a few feet behind Juan Carlos. His pale skin glowed slightly in the dim light, his bare chest almost serving as its own milky-white illumination.
“I’m leaving,” Juan Carlos insisted, turning to go, but Sig took a small step away from the wall and barred the way. If Juan Carlos’s physical presence was enough to unnerve me, then Sig’s was enough to make anyone else uneasy. He was over six and a half feet of lean, taut muscle and liquid predatory grace. Seeing Sig move was like watching a wild jaguar hunt.
“We’re having a little chat,” Sig said. “I think it only fair you stay to finish what you started.”
Juan Carlos turned back to me and snarled. “I’d love nothing more than to finish it.”
“I see you two are being calm and rational about this…” Sig waved a hand between me and Juan Carlos, “…tension.” He smiled, laughing at his own private joke. Neither Juan Carlos nor I were amused. “Let’s have it out. Juan Carlos, you claim I am the only thing keeping Secret out of an early grave, is that what I am to understand?”
Juan Carlos was hesitant to reply. He watched the Scandinavian master vampire warily before he spoke again, and when he did, his voice was low and empty of its former heat. “Yes.”
“I disagree,” Sig said. “I believe Secret has held her own as a member of our Tribunal. Certainly, my…favoritism had its benefits when she was our hunter, but now she is our equal.”
“She will never be our equal.”
“Whether you choose to accept it or not, old friend, she has earned her place here just as you and I have. You must learn to respect her.”
They spoke as if I weren’t there, like parents arguing about how to discipline a naughty child. I wanted to wave my arms and cough loudly to remind them I was still present, but common sense won out. Besides, I was relieved to have Juan Carlos’s attention diverted elsewhere.
“I cannot respect her.”
“You must.”
“You ask too much.”