Hupotasso (Vampire Bachelor Games #2)

64

64

I sit at my desk, head in hands, and consider my next move.

Jag’s latest text doesn’t give me much hope that he or any of my men have made headway in finding my pregnant wife.

Meanwhile the queen is breathing down my neck, my business dealings are slipping due to my inattention, the Free Men have my mother’s body, Spider is still alive, Sophie is perhaps carrying my child, and my wife and heir are out there somewhere unprotected, potentially in the hands of the ones who killed my unborn child’s grandmother.

If I didn’t know better I’d say I’d swallowed a bad penny. My luck since Viper was kidnapped last year has simply gone from bad to worse.

As if he knows I’m thinking about him, my brother sticks his head around the corner.

“Brother?”

“I thought I told you to fuck off out of the castle,” I sigh. “Your shit-stirring is not something I need at this moment.”

“I admit,” he sighs, walking in to sit down opposite me, uninvited, “I’ve made some poor choices of late, but I always have your best interests at heart.”

I snort.

“Cut the crap. I’m not in the mood. What do you want?”

“I merely wanted to offer my services to help secure your wife.”

“Your services? ”

“Yes, you know I spend a great deal of time in the halls of power. You’re not the only one with friends in high places. I thought to put the word out that she was missing and perhaps combine our efforts.”

“The queen already knows,” I sigh, “and I’m damn sure she would have made the situation public if she wanted it more widely known. She wants it kept quiet, and so do I.”

“Well…”

“Viper. Everything you touch turns to shit. You’re my brother,” I raise my hand to stall his interruption, “and I appreciate your offer of help. But please, please, take a holiday, go on a long, long vacation and leave me to sort out my problems.”

“Brother,” he shakes his head, his tone sorrowful, “your problems are my problems. At least let me help with something. You know idle hands…”

I grit my teeth. He’s probably right. If I give him something to do he’s less likely to fuck around and do something damn stupid.

“I’m receiving a dozen calls a day,” I sigh, “well-wishers for Mother. I’ll have the calls re-routed to you. If you could handle this I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“There,” he grins and stands. “It would be my pleasure, brother. Anything I can do to take some of the burden of this seat off your shoulders is my greatest desire.”

He leaves, still grinning, and I put my head back into my hands.

“Surely he can’t fuck this up?”