Firethorne

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

The Firethornes

“ I do love our little catch ups,” Miriam remarked as she sat with Damien and Lysander in the dining room, having breakfast. “Although, I’m surprised to see you here, Damien. I thought you only came out at night, you know, with the rest of the vampires.”

“If I’m a vampire, then you’ll be safe. After the stories I’ve heard about last night, your veins are filled with ninety percent alcohol, and you haven’t been a virgin in a very long time.” Damien lifted his coffee cup and took a sip.

And Miriam ignored him, her eyes narrowing as she said, “Our little project might not be safe from you, though.” Her lip curled in a smug smile. “Don’t vampires lust after young, beautiful virgins, seducing and manipulating them for sport?”

“Speaking from experience?” Damien sneered. “You do have manipulation down to a fine art, after all, cousin dear .”

Miriam huffed in response, but from the way she grinned to herself, she agreed with him.

“And what about you?” Miriam turned in her seat to face Lysander. “What’s happening with you?” she asked, poking him playfully in the side as she grinned at him. “I know I’m ahead of you in our little game, but have you managed to make any headway? Did you impress her with more of your little drawings?”

Lysander sat back in his chair, and with a contemplative quirk of his brow, he said, “You make it sound like you’re winning, which we both know you’re not. Maya has more intelligence than to fall for your tricks. Has she even worn that necklace you gave her?” He smirked back at her, and Miriam’s lips thinned as she replied, “No, but that’s not the point. She never gave it back.”

“I’d check the bins if I were you,” Damien piped up from across the room. “It’ll probably be in there, along with the sketch Lysander gave her.”

“How do you know about that?” Lysander glared at his half-brother.

“Because you told us, the last time Miriam accosted us in the library, remember?”

Lysander furrowed his brow in thought, trying to recall exactly what he’d said at that meeting, but Miriam interrupted.

“Tell me what’s happened since. Do you have anything to report?”

“I told her the Jeremiah Cramner story,” Lysander said.

“For fuck’s sake.” Damien sat forward; deep lines set in his brow as he glowered at his half-brother from across the table. “You’re supposed to be seducing the girl, not scaring her half to death. Why did you take her there? Did you want to give her a glimpse of her own future or something?”

“I didn’t take her there. I met her there, when she was on her morning run.”

“So you’re stalking her,” Miriam said. “Memorising her schedule.”

“Aren’t you?” Lysander retorted, and by the way Miriam grinned to herself, it was obvious she was doing the same.

Damien just rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t choose that location, it just happened,” Lysander went on, trying to defend himself. “And anyway, I sweetened the story with an invite to the party.”

“And?” Miriam leaned forward, placing her chin on her clenched fist as if waiting with bated breath for Lysander to finish the story.

“She said she’d think about it.”

Miriam couldn’t keep the relief and the smugness off her face as she sat back and sighed wistfully.

“And what about you?” Damien asked her, his head cocked as he rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers together, studying her closely. “Have you locked her down yet?”

“We’re gonna get ready for the party together. She’s borrowing one of my outfits,” Miriam announced proudly, but it didn’t go unnoticed that she wouldn’t look either of them in the eye and instead chose to stir her cup of tea with her spoon, even though it had already gone cold.

“So, she’s not thinking about it anymore?” Damien’s dark gaze scrutinized his cousin, and then, as he peered over at Lysander, he could see jealousy creeping over his half-brother as his clenched jaw ticked and his eyes narrowed on Miriam.

“She’ll be there,” Miriam replied.

“But she hasn’t said yes.” Damien was fanning the flames, shaking his head as his own smug grin spread over his face.

“Not exactly.” Miriam didn’t like to be interrogated, especially not by Damien. He had a way of knowing exactly how to get under her skin, and it vexed her more than she’d ever let on. “Anyway, what have you managed to do to win the bet?”

Lysander’s gaze jumped from Miriam to Damien, like he was watching a tennis match.

“I’m not a part of your ridiculous bet, remember?”

Miriam rolled her eyes.

“Let’s not kid ourselves. If you had the chance, you would. She’s exactly your type.”

“You’ve said that before, and I’ve already told you, I’m not interested.”

At that moment, the elder Firethorne strolled into the dining room, bringing with him a wickedly dark air of hostility that reverberated around the room, making everyone sit up a little taller and become a little more guarded.

Everyone except Damien.

The elder Firethorne sat at the head of the table and poured himself a cup of coffee, took a sip, then stared around the table at his family.

“I have to go away for a few days for an important business meeting,” he announced plainly. “I trust I can leave you all to hold the fort while I’m gone.”

“I could come with you,” Lysander said, hope ringing in his voice.

“Out of the question,” Firethorne shot back. “If I was going to take anyone to an important business meeting, it’d be Damien. He has a good head for business. Better than yours.”

Their father was doing what he did best, playing the sons off against each other. Choosing who he’d bestow his sparse and meagre compliments on. Today it was Damien. That wouldn’t be the case tomorrow. He liked to keep them where he wanted them, below him and begging for any scraps of attention.

“But I don’t have time to babysit your brother and hold his hand through this meeting. It’s too important,” he added, knocking Damien down after building him up. “Do you think you can manage to keep things ticking over here? I refuse to come home to total mayhem.”

“I’ll keep them in check,” Miriam snipped.

But he didn’t even look at her as he said, “You’re the one I’d worry about the most.”

Miriam wasn’t immune from his snide comments, but she had armour just as sturdy as any man.

“Maybe I’ll prove you wrong,” she replied, but Firethorne ignored her.

The four of them sat in silence as Mrs Richardson walked in and placed a plate of food in front of Mr Firethorne. Crippling tension hung in the air, but it was Lysander who attempted to break it.

“Who are you meeting with?”

Firethorne dropped his cutlery onto his plate, the noise jarring as it clattered and he braced himself in his chair, anger burning from being questioned by his eldest son.

“It’s none of your fucking business. And for once, could I eat my breakfast in peace?”

Miriam and Lysander stood up, and as they headed for the door, Miriam whispered, “At least we’ll be able to party without having to think of an excuse to get rid of him.”

Damien stayed sitting where he was. He wouldn’t let his father’s disdain force him out of the room before he was ready to leave. He wouldn’t let anyone tell him what he had to do. Lysander might say he was only half a Firethorne, but in truth, Damien was more Firethorne than any of them. And as the elder Firethorne grinned to himself as he sliced through his bacon and eggs, it was obvious he knew that too.