Kirill’s eyes widened. He’d heard the news about Vadim of course – any vampire of any note had. How the vampire had given up his regency due to the death of his bond mate some four hundred years earlier, and then taken it back in spectacular fashion just last year, after it was learned his brother had abused his position as regent in his place. A picture of Vadim dropping his brother’s head on the stage in front of his coven was still showcased on the vampire council website. Now Kirill thought about it, there had been wolves in that photo too.
“What did he find out?” Kirill would listen. Prince Vadim was a vampire no one wanted to mess with. Older than almost all vampires across Europe and America, Prince Vadim held a strong position of respect among his kind.
Wes consulted his notes. “Yakov Drake, born…”
Kirill frowned. “Yakov is old enough not to have a last name. Are you sure you’ve got the right person?”
Holding up a finger, Wes continued, “Yakov Drake, born nineteen forty-three…”
“No, that can’t be right.” Kirill shook his head. “Yakov’s identification, issued by the council shows him being over three hundred years old. He’s been a Duke for years. You must have notes on the wrong person.”
“If you’d let me finish.” Wes’s eyes flashed, and Kirill knew he was seeing wolf. Cass leaned his elbows on the table heavily, his hands lightly fisted, but the threat was clear. “Yakov Drake, born nineteen forty-three. Parents were Yakov Senior and Maria no last name, who disappeared in nineteen sixty-two and are believed to be dead. In nineteen sixty-seven Yakov Drake, the surname he chose for himself when he went to school, filed with the human courts, to declare his parent’s legally dead, thereby accessing their entire estate.”
Kirill’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”
“Yakov Drake came to the council’s notice again in nineteen eighty-four when the master of the Los Angeles coven sent word to the council he was subverting the recently implemented laws regarding donor rights. The coven master found evidence of human slaves being kept as donors, no sign of consent, with many of the slaves recovered found to be under twenty years of age.” Wes’s eyes flashed as they met Kirill’s. “All of the humans recovered had been sexually, emotionally, and physically abused, not to mention left malnourished and many of them sporting permanent injuries. They all identified Yakov as the man who’d kidnapped them and who was the leader of the group of vampires who abused them.”
Kirill’s coffee threatened to make a comeback, and he covered his mouth with his hand for a moment, to ensure he didn’t throw up. Forcing back the lump in his throat, he asked, “Did the council catch him?”
“No, he disappeared, reappearing in nineteen ninety-two in New York, and nineteen ninety-nine in Seattle after incurring similar charges. The vampire council sent guards to the Dublin coven, yours, in two thousand and six after hearing that a Yakov had been admitted as a new coven member here. The notes said while there was a slight family resemblance to the Yakov Drake they were looking for, the man they interviewed showed his ID proving he was in effect his father’s second cousin. The vampire claimed that Yakov was a common family name among his kin. Enquiries made by the council to the coven second and the coven master proved that the Yakov in their coven was a loyal and devoted member, and a passionate supporter of donor rights.”
“I don’t have donors at the coven,” Kirill said faintly, his stomach still churning over the idea he’d been harboring a fugitive all this time. “We have a connection with the local hospital to buy blood bags for research purposes which meet our needs. The only non-vampires who live in the coven are bonded consorts or beloveds of my coven members.”
“Are any of them shifters?” Arvyn pressed their shoulders together, lending him support.
Kirill shook his head. “Human, all of them. Do you think that’s significant?”
“Shifters have a knack of being able to scent strong emotions, lies, and intruders simply by walking around. A shifter living in your coven would know if Yakov was lying, and also be able to tell if there were non bonded humans being kept on the property.” A strong warm hand turned Kirill’s head until he was looking directly into his beloved’s dark eyes. “I would be able to tell if something like that was going on in your coven which would be a damn good reason for your Yakov trying to drive me out of town, don’t you think?”
“It also explains why we weren’t granted access to the coven house. They stopped us at the gate,” Wes said. “It also explains why this guy,” he turned his phone so Kirill could see the picture there, “was notably absent when we called, and yet we were told that you were unavailable by someone claiming to be your second. Jax sent me this picture when I asked him for information on the Dearne’s and mentioned Yakov’s name.”
“That’s Yakov.” Kirill nodded to the photo. “Do you have a picture of the man claiming to be my second?”
Wes flicked the screen on his phone and held up a second picture. “This guy.”
Kirill groaned. “Sven, my head enforcer. Fuck.” He ran his hand through his hair. “How deep is the fucking rot in my coven?”
“Only you can answer that,” Wes said, “but you can see now, why we didn’t want you two just running back to the coven and tearing Yakov’s head off, no matter how rightly deserved. Your whole coven could be in huge trouble if Yakov’s continued with his pattern of behavior. We need to see who else is involved in all this and find out if there’re any victims that do need saving.”
“Why didn’t your god, or whoever it was that sent you here, know anything about this?” Arvyn asked. “Surely they could’ve done something?”
“If there are any victims in this, they’ll be human,” Cass said as though it explained everything, but it didn’t, at least not to Kirill.
“So? A human life is no less important than a paranormal one.”
Cass sighed and leaned over the table. “After the Great War, something you two would know nothing about but Ra would know about intimately, all gods, every single one, from every pantheon was forbidden from ever interfering in mortal affairs. It means my Lord Hades can’t do anything to stop the plague of black souls that haunt the underworld, Zeus can do nothing about the wars, famine and global warming that infect this land. Poseidon weeps every time there’s an oil spill in his precious seas, or one of his beloved creatures become extinct, and the Mother of us all dies a little every day as her forests are ravaged and her animals are culled out of existence. But they are all forbidden to interfere. Mortals have free will. Gods don’t have the right to take that away. Zeus and Hades are crossing the line as it is, sending me and my mate to help in individual cases.”
“I’m sorry.” Arvyn bowed his head and Kirill wondered if he was thinking about their third. “I guess we all grow up believing gods are omnipotent and can do anything they want.”
“That belief is instilled in us from societal groups that want someone to blame when things go wrong.” Kirill reached for his beloved’s hand and held it firmly. “Free will means accepting consequences for individual actions and there’re not many people who accept that side of the coin either.”