Everyone slid their gaze from the blade to me, and I glared at Rhys, who continued. I watched the way every immortal in the room hung on his every word. He was respected by more than just the women who had eye-raped him harder than I had, and that was saying something.
“Things have started to go awry for houses out of nowhere, and nothing has added up. Not until this little Silversmith walked into a fight between Cole and me, murdering a half-blooded Silversmith, shattering her into slivers of silver. Newborn vampires are being created without a sire. We all know a witch can make day-walkers that appear to be vampires, and the wolves have been attacked during the new moon when they’re at their weakest points.
“We thought it to be hunters because the bullets weren’t fully silver, just laced, but enough so to still kill them. Half-breeds have been turning up dissected, yet still alive with no memory of who took them, or how they were wounded. Only a few creatures can erase memories so deeply that others cannot pull them from their mind.” Rhys tapped the blade, smirking. “Then I went to her mother’s house, who Remington claimed was missing.”
My eyes narrowed on Rhys as the tick in his jaw slowly pulsed. “What I found was the glyphs to control an alpha in their younger years pulsing on the wall when Remington, herself, touched the door to her bedroom. The same glyphs appeared on her flesh. Being that we were very young that last time we’d seen the symbols, it took us a while to add it all together,” he explained, and the eyes narrowed on me intently, causing me to fidget beneath their stares.
“What are you saying, Van Helsing?” Griselda asked carefully.
“The house held all the signs of a rising son, but in this case, a daughter since we all know the only alphas in the Silversmith lineage are females. Snakes in the bed of the reigning alpha, a mark that means their time is short as another comes to take it by force, and blood beneath them to signify a sacrifice made. We didn’t make it down to the armory, but then none ever do when they try to reach one owned by a Silversmith, as the unknown being protects it. The armory exploded, almost ending Remington’s life in the process, but I protected her. I have given her my vow of protection, and she has given me her silver. In the eyes of the old world, she is my wife.”
“Excuse me?” I glared, staring at him through narrowed eyes.
“You did it, you claimed her fully. No Van Helsing has ever claimed a Silversmith in the way of the old world, because it was forbidden to protect their house from ever falling. Why would they leave something so precious unguarded in her most vulnerable time?” One of the alphas asked, his lime-green eyes searching mine as if he could find the answer within me.
“Remington ran away from Elizabeth at seventeen. She joined E.V.I.E., and I think Elizabeth thought she was safely hidden within their organization. Had Remi remained in their hold, none of us would have looked for her there. She was their weapons master. She used metals along with her silver, which none of us would have noted unless a solid silver weapon was wielded against us. We’d have had to survive to realize what silver had been used. Remington’s silver is powerful, and I’m willing to guess that few have survived it or lived to tell anyone they’d felt the Silversmith silver again.”
“I’m not your wife, asshole,” I interjected, watching as the tick in his jaw started, but he continued ignoring me. “Is the bar open?” I asked, watching his azure eyes turn toward me for the first time in the last several moments.
“Remington, I’d advise you to hold your tongue.”
“I’d advise you to hold your fucking breath, but I don’t think you’d die from suffocation, which would make the entire point moot. Now, is the bar open? Because I am reserving the right to get rip-roaring drunk tonight, and, hopefully by doing so, I’ll forget what you and your brother did to me. Obviously, you don’t need me for your little party. I was just here so you could stroke your male ego at what you found unguarded. I’ll go get drunk, and you get your back patted on such a good job for catching a little mortal Silversmith, and using her naïveté to fuck her over.”
“You’re not moving from your chair. If you’d like to drink, I can order you something. Do you understand me?” Rhys asked, narrowing his eyes as I smirked.
“Yes, Daddy, I understand,” I smiled darkly, leaning back while I surveyed the others who watched us with curiosity.
“Now, where were we?”
“At the part where I was hiding in E.V.I.E. where I signed a ten-year contract that is only breakable through death,” I stated pointedly, noting he didn’t seem to fear them coming. “That means they’re coming. My family will also come to get me. They’re never going to allow you to keep me. I apparently have a super big mouth, and giveaway shit that I wasn’t even aware was a secret. I also tried to be nice and make you a badass blade, which now you assume makes you my husband. Which, by the way, that’s some medieval bullshit mentality. I mean, I thought handfasting was outdated. But blade trading? Whew, that one outdates the books, I guess. I’ve read hundreds of books, and none included the bitch giving him the blade, but lots of them had the rhetorical cock, aka, sword, entering her vagina and bam!” I slapped the table, causing the immortals to jump in their seats, which was a little soothing to my bruised ego. “Bitch is married to Sir Dicks-A-Lot. But hey, you want my sword? I’ll peg you so fucking hard you feel me fucking your throat, Van Helsing. I’m down to be dirty with you.”
“Are you finished yet?”
“No. Not even close. I did mention my super big mouth, right?” I asked, watching his eyes sparkling with anger. “I’m not here willingly, Rhys. You expecting me to sit beside you like a good little bitch, well, that’s just unrealistic expectations on your part. I didn’t murder your people. I sure as hell wasn’t around when our families went to war. I wasn’t a part of your twisted as shit backstory, and I don’t want to be either. I’m just a girl who likes to make pretty weapons that kill nasty monsters. Is that too much to ask?”
“Actually, it is, Sweetling. You are responsible for the deaths of my creations,” a scathing voice slithered down my spine. I turned, watching a blonde move toward me with pale-skinned men beside her.
Vampire.
“Laura, I’m surprised you would lower yourself to come tonight, darling,” Cole muttered, glaring at the vampire.
“And miss finding the little bitch that is helping E.V.I.E. hunt down my children? As if. Nikolas, you, of all people, know how attached I am to my children,” she sneered, her fangs extending as he smirked, licking his lips as the queen evil bitch gave him a lusty stare. Her cold ice-blue eyes slid to me, and she slowly moved closer. “You’re the weapon master for the Seattle branch, are you not?”
“I am,” I said carefully, showing no fear as I faked it until I made it, which was out of this encounter alive, or so I hoped. “They do scream so beautifully when the silver shreds their non-beating hearts. If you want your children to live, all they have to do is follow the rules agreed upon by both you and E.V.I.E. If you can’t manage to control your own child, Laura, how the fuck do you manage an entire branch of your house?”
“You’re what, twenty, twenty-one at most? You’re an infant in this world, and I could end you before you blink, little bitch.”