Filthy Rich Vampire (Filthy Rich Vampires Book 1)
Filthy Rich Vampire: Chapter 40

Somewhere in Paris, my mother and my girlfriend were in the same room. I just hoped they were both still alive. I paced the length of the sitting room, one eye on the clock over the mantel and another on my phone. I’d lost my damned mind. This was all because Jacqueline had put ideas in my head.

Thea wasn’t my mate.

She couldn’t be. In my nine hundred years I’d jumped between relationships and beds. And I’d been around long enough to know that mating was a pretty story that vampire mothers told their children at bedtime. It was a fairy tale. Nothing more. No one I’d known had ever actually mated with anyone.

I sent another message to Jacqueline, who was definitely avoiding me. I wanted to know how much she’d told Thea and what exactly happened at the Salon du Rouge. My mother promised it was harmless. If there was some possibility of a relationship with Thea, the sooner I got my family on board, the better.

Hughes entered the room and watched me for a second. I could only imagine what he thought of my agitation. “Sir, you have guests.”

That was the problem with being in Paris. Acquaintances were bound to turn up. I thought I’d have a few more days before I had to welcome any. I sighed. “Show them in.”

Wandering over to the antique bar cart in the corner, I poured myself a Scotch and braced myself for small talk. Maybe it would distract me from the wild panic that had enveloped me in Thea’s absence.

“Nice digs, governor,” a cheerful voice called, and I turned to replace my brother Benedict standing with an unopened bottle of Scotch. Sebastian was next to him. “I brought a housewarming present.”

I crossed the room in two strides and greeted him with a hug.

“You never hug me when I come to visit,” Sebastian complained. But he was already prowling around the room, and when he reached the velvet sofa he dropped into it, kicking his feet up.

“You had Celia wake me up,” I reminded him.

“That was mother,” he pointed out. “And I brought you an entire blonde.”

Benedict chuckled. “Some things never change.”

“Some people, you mean.” I took the bottle from him and read the label. It was fifty years old and from a small town outside Edinburgh that was known for only two things. “This ought to be good.”

“Say what you want, but werewolves know their whisky,” Benedict said. “Shall we finish off what you started?”

I stared at him for a moment, wondering if he’d been sent here to deliver some family edict on my recent choices. Benedict’s brown eyes–which had a warm, deep glow that reminded me of logs on a fire–studied me back. He looked good, dressed in a cashmere suit that was tailored to fit his massive vampiric frame. His tie hung loosely around his neck as if to signal he was ready to relax.

Benedict was the diplomat of the family. The man we sent to handle everything from strained relations between rival bloodlines to Council issues to our increasingly tenuous relationships with other species. If he were human, he’d be a prime minister or a president. But vampire law dictated that we never hold official positions in human governments.

“Let’s open this one.” He gestured to the bottle he’d brought.

Of course, Benedict was talking about Scotch, not Thea.

“I’m sorry. I’m distracted. Let me get you a drink,” I said. The sooner I could convince my brain–and my dick–that Thea wasn’t the center of the universe, the better. I poured a drink into two crystal glasses and brought one to each of them.

“To family,” Benedict said, raising his cup.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, his own glass already at his lips. “It’s just us. You don’t have to be the golden child.”

“Believe it or not, I actually meant it,” Benedict muttered, shooting him a weary look. “Even if you’re here.”

“I’m touched, brother.” Sebastian pressed a hand to his heart. Then he downed his entire drink in one gulp. He looked around the room, then back at me. “Where’s your sweet little human?”

My spine stiffened as I felt the increasingly familiar rage begin to take hold. All I could manage was to spit a single word in his direction. “Out.”

Sebastian tossed a cocky grin at Benedict and then laughed. “I told you.”

“Shit,” Benedict murmured, taking a sip of his Scotch.

“And you didn’t believe me.” Sebastian leaped onto his feet and headed for the bottle of booze. I stepped into his path before he could reach it.

“Told him what?” I demanded. The room darkened around us. I rounded on Benedict next. “What? What didn’t you believe?”

“Calm down. You’re acting a little psycho,” Sebastian said, brushing past me. He picked up the bottle and took a swig from it.

“Help yourself,” I grumbled. I took a deep breath and pushed back the turmoil stirring inside me. “Now, will one of you tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

“According to Sebastian, you have a girlfriend–a human girlfriend,” Benedict said.

“Is that why you’re here?” I edged closer. “Have you been sent to talk sense into me?”

His mouth twisted into a bemused line. “Are you hoping I will?”

“Thea is a means to an end. Nothing more,” I informed him.

“Really?” Benedict sounded unconvinced. “Look, I’ve spent enough time around politicians to know spin when I see it.”

“I’m not spinning anything.” I cracked open the bottle he brought and poured myself a drink.

“So she’s a means to an end?” he said, repeating my words. “What end?”

“I don’t have to tell you that they enacted the Rites.” I sank into a leather chair by the window. “She’s a distraction. If I’m seeing someone, I can’t be expected to prance about looking for a wife, can I?”

“Interesting.” Benedict took another drink, but I spotted the smile he tried to hide.

“You should both be thanking me.” I pointed my index finger at each in turn. “The longer I drag this out, the longer you have until it’s your necks on the line.”

“And how long do you think you can keep our mother at bay?” he asked, voicing the question I’d been asking myself since I’d found out the Rites would continue indefinitely.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, dropping my head in my hand. “Maybe one of you should just stake me.”

“That seems like a dramatic solution,” Benedict said.

“But points for style,” Sebastian added. He sat down again–this time on the Persian rug–and continued nursing his bottle. “Why not just get married?”

“Seriously?” Rage boiled inside me, but I tamped it down. “Why don’t you get married?”

“I will–when it’s my turn.” He smirked.

Without meaning to I hurled my glass at his head. He ducked just in time, and it shattered against the wall behind him.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” he continued, completely unfazed by the outburst. “It doesn’t change anything. Look at Mum and Dad. They do whatever–and whomever–they please.”

“Yes, what a shining example of marital bliss for all of us,” Benedict said dryly. “But–and I hate to say it–he makes a decent point. It’s not like you need to give up your human. Plenty of vampires keep pets after they’re married.”

It was a casual remark. He had no way of knowing about his slip of the tongue. Pet. That’s what I called Thea. I meant it affectionately. Or had I known all along that I meant to keep her?

“Just replace a familiar that pleases our parents, knock her up, and move on with your life,” Sebastian added. “You need the blood anyway. Even your wife will understand that. She can’t argue with your need to feed, and from what I hear about marriage, she’ll be happy to let you keep fucking your pretty human if it keeps the peace.”

Something snapped inside me. One minute, I was listening, disgust snowballing inside me. The next, I had Sebastian by the throat. His feet dangled a foot from the ground. Sebastian opened his mouth, but the only sound he made was a gurgle.

“Stop calling her my pretty human,” I roared. “Stop talking about fucking her or keeping her on the side.” My hand crushed into his larynx. Blood beaded from where my fingernails had broken his skin.

A firm hand clapped onto my shoulder. “Julian,” Benedict said my name gently. “Put our brother down before you pop off his head by accident.”

“It wouldn’t be an accident,” I seethed.

“Believe me, you have my empathy, but you don’t really want to behead your brother.”

I wasn’t entirely certain that was true. Slowly, I forced my fingers to relax until he fell on the floor. Sebastian touched his neck gingerly. When he pulled back bloody fingers, he chuckled. “I told you it was bad.”

“You’re doing that infuriating thing where you act like I’m not here,” I warned them. Another surge of adrenaline hit me, but I managed to stumble back to my chair. Benedict picked up the bottle and poured us all another drink.

“It seems like things are a little more complicated with your human than you’re admitting.” Benedict held up a hand in surrender. “No judgment. We’re here to help. Sebastian told me something was up.”

I glared at Sebastian. But he didn’t even have the decency to pretend he hadn’t been gossiping behind my back.

“Now, where is your girlfriend?” Benedict asked, choosing each word carefully, so he wouldn’t set me off.

“She went to a party.” I downed my Scotch with one swallow and beckoned for another. As a vampire, it was hard to get drunk–but not impossible. I aimed to try.

Benedict sank into the chair opposite of mine. His drink remained untouched in his hand. “I’ve never seen you like this before. I mean, I understand the urge to rip Sebastian’s head off–”

“Hey!” Sebastian interjected. “This is what I get for trying to help.”

Benedict continued, ignoring him, “–but it’s not like you to be so…”

“Grouchy?” I offered.

“No, you’re usually grouchy,” Sebastian said. Clearly, he wasn’t worried I would finish what I’d started with his neck.

“Violent. Possessive.” Benedict settled against his chair. He swirled the amber liquid in his cup. “I’ve heard stories about recent blood-rage and blood-lust outbursts.”

“Mother is exaggerating,” I said.

“Is Bellamy?” he asked seriously. “No wonder the rumor is that you’re off the marriage market.”

“I was never on the market,” I said bitterly. This was turning into the worst family reunion ever.

“You never will be at this rate.” Sebastian dipped his finger into the bottle’s neck and then flipped it over. Pulling his finger free, he wiped away the blood on his neck from our disagreement. The wounds were already healed. No permanent damage had been done, and he didn’t seem angry with me.

I just couldn’t understand why.

“What’s going on?” Benedict asked. “What’s so special about this girl?”

I shifted forward and leveled a searing gaze at them. “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone. Not Mom or Dad. Not even Lysander or Thoren.” The last thing I needed was more of my brothers involved in this mess.

“Your secret is–”

“I need you to promise.” I dragged a nail across the palm of my hand. Blood welled onto the spot, and I stuck my hand out.

“Seriously? A blood-vow?” Sebastian laughed, but he shut up when I turned a furious look to him. “Fine! Keep your gloves on.”

He slipped his own gloves free and repeated suit. Reaching over, he shook my hand. “I swear to never tell anyone that you are batshit crazy because you’re my brother, and I love you–even though you tried to kill me.”

“I’m holding you to that,” I said gruffly. “And I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”

Sebastian shrugged. “It happens.”

Benedict watched the exchange in silence. I looked at him and waited. Sebastian might complain about being asked to make a blood-vow, but he’d always say yes. Benedict was more careful with the secrets he agreed to keep. Committing to a blood-vow was a somber choice for him. He had to be wondering what secret I was keeping that required such an extreme measure.

Finally, he stood and removed his calfskin gloves. A moment later, he made the vow. “I’ll take your secret to the grave.”

I sighed with relief. They waited expectantly.

“Thea is a virgin,” I said before I lost my courage.

“I was not expecting you to say that,” Sebastian admitted, sounding on the verge of laughter.

Benedict wasn’t nearly so amused. “What the hell are you thinking? Is this why you’re practically ripping people’s heads off for mentioning her? Virgins and blood-lust don’t mix, dickhead.”

“Thank you,” I said dryly. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Seriously, Julian. You need to let her go before it’s too late.”

“I can’t. She knows about our world, and she already drew some attention. It wouldn’t be safe.” It was as reasonable an excuse as any for keeping her with me.

“Compel her, buy her a small fortress in the middle of nowhere, and move on. You don’t want to tether a human.”

“I have to agree,” Sebastian interjected. “It’s never pretty.”

“Does she even know what would happen if you gave in and slept with her?”

“She knows. She went shopping with Jacqueline earlier.”

They both stared at me.

“She’s shopping with Jacqueline? No wonder half the vampires in Paris think you’re one walk away from the altar.” Benedict stood and began pacing around the room. “How did she react when she found out?”

“Not well.” It tasted sour to admit it. “It’s not like I want to tether her.”

“At least she doesn’t want to be tethered,” Sebastian said helpfully. “Only the crazy ones go for that.”

“There’s something else,” I said slowly. My brothers stopped and stared.

“At least, we know she isn’t pregnant,” Sebastian muttered.

Benedict continued, ignoring him, “What could be worse than getting involved with a virgin?”

“It’s something Jacqueline said.” I hesitated, but I couldn’t ignore what I’d already pieced together. “There’s something different about Thea.”

“That’s the blood-lust talking,” Benedict said, but I shook my head.

“No, I mean it. I can’t lie to her. I can’t compel her.”

“Impossible,” Sebastian said softly. “Maybe you were just having an off day.”

“I tried more than once,” I said bitterly. “I’ve known her a week, and if one of you tried to step between us, I’d rip your head off.”

Benedict swore under his breath. “You can’t really think…”

“She’s my mate,” I murmured. A weight lifted off my shoulders. I’d spent the last twenty-four hours telling myself the exact opposite. I might not be able to lie to Thea, but I could lie to myself. I knew that now. Just as surely as I knew Jacqueline was right.

Thea was my mate.

For a split second, joy welled inside me–warm and promising and hopeful. But just as quickly, dread replaced it.

“No,” Sebastian said. “Mating is a myth. I’ve never known anyone who actually mated.”

“She can’t be your mate,” Benedict said quietly. “Not yet. Not if you haven’t…”

“I know.” My voice sounded hollow, as if it was coming from someplace far away instead of my own throat. There was a catch. We all knew the fairy-tale stories of mating, and we all knew how the bond was sealed.

“Fuck,” Sebastian groaned. “We should have brought more Scotch.”

“Where is she tonight?” Benedict asked. I knew what he was thinking. He wanted to see us with his own eyes. He’d never been Jacqueline’s biggest fan. He probably thought she was putting ideas in my head.

“The Salon du Rouge,” I said, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Between constantly suppressing my blood-lust and my recent outburst of blood-rage, I needed something stronger than Scotch.

“What?” Sebastian spun around, bottle in hand. “Where is she?”

I repeated myself. Sebastian shook his head, worry contorting his face. It looked so out of place that it might have been comical if we weren’t talking about Thea.

“Julian, do you know what goes on there?” he asked.

“No one knows,” Benedict snapped. “That’s the point. It’s for the females only.”

“I know.” Sebastian glared. “I heard it from one of Mom’s friends.”

“Get to the point,” I said. Whatever it was couldn’t be worse than knowing Thea was my mate and that I could never have her. Not unless I let another man have her first. I couldn’t care less about some stupid party in the face of knowing that.

It turned out I was wrong.

“Julian,” Sebastian said my name like it was fragile. “She’s at the first Rite.”