“And considering what we saw when Zeus and I got to the coven, Yakov had clearly been giving the head of security a blow job, so perhaps that’s why they didn’t challenge him.” Ra gave an elegant rise and fall of his slender shoulders. “My question for you, sweet vampire, is why is it important to you?”
And wasn’t that the twenty-thousand-dollar question. Kirill struggled to put what he was feeling into words. “I feel duped. I feel like I’ve been conned, and I’m angry… at Yakov definitely, but mostly I’m angry at myself. People, innocent people, were being abused, drained, chained, tortured, not half a mile from where I slept, and I didn’t know. I didn’t fucking KNOW!” His anger hit him like a Mack truck. Kirill was on his feet, the contents of his cup slopping all over the floor. Seconds later the handle of the mug started to crumble in his hands, and Kirill threw the remains of the mug against the fireplace.
Arvyn was there, pressed up against his side, hands rubbing up and down his arms – Kirill recognized his beloved was trying to soothe him. But Ra hadn’t moved. Didn’t so much as blink. He simply took another sip from his cup, and asked quietly, “Is omnipotence one of your powers? A gift you inherited after you turned five hundred, perhaps? Are you able to see into the future and all it holds?”
“What are you talking about?” Kirill didn’t seem to be able to shake his anger. “Of course not. No one is omnipotent except perhaps the Fates, and maybe you.”
“I am all powerful yes, but even I don’t proclaim to be able to see into the hearts of men or understand their reasoning for what they do. Nor do I have x-ray vision allowing me to see what’s happening in a closed-up barn, until I opened the door and looked for myself. If you’d have known what Yakov had done, would you have put a stop to it?”
“Of course, I fucking would. You think I condone that sort of shit?” Arvyn’s hand gripped his bicep, but Kirill was too angry to watch his words or tone, even to his beloved.
Ra sighed and stood, still holding his mug. “You can what-if until the cows come home or the birds come to roost, or whatever it is you mortals say in situations like this. It won’t change anything. Yakov and his cronies are responsible for the horrors I saw firsthand in that barn, and Zeus and I ensured that the vampire council were called in. All of those people will live, and the two main perpetrators have been dealt with.”
“On your realm.” Kirill almost spat the words. “You sent them to your realm. They’re still breathing.”
“Only until you deem otherwise, my dear mate.” Ra quirked an eyebrow. “And believe me, it’s no fun being one of the few individuals breathing in the realm of the dead which is where I sent them. They are parked, where they can do no harm, until you determine what you want done with them. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have no wish to sit around and watch you smash any more of the things in my house. I’ll be in one of the other rooms if you need me.”
Kirill could only watch with impotent fury as Ra walked out of the room, knowing once again it’d been his words that sent the god away.
Chapter Seventeen
“You’ve got to snap out of it.” Arvyn desperately wanted to shake his mate until his teeth rattled, but Kirill was built like a mountain. “What were you thinking? You don’t go smashing things like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum.”
“What would you suggest I do then?” Kirill shrugged off his hand and Arvyn let him go, watching as Kirill went over and started picking up the bits of the cup he smashed. “You saw what I saw on those screens. How would you feel if that happened in your pack?”
Arvyn threw up his hands. “It wouldn’t happen in a pack because in a pack, shifters either work together or get the fuck out. We don’t have secrets from our pack members, one faction working against the common good. That would undermine the whole point of what a pack is about. But as to what I saw, I’m not angry. What’s the point of being angry? I hurt deep inside. My soul aches for those poor people, but I’m not throwing things around because of it.”
“I should’ve done something.” Kirill got up, glancing down at the smashed china in his hands. Then, looking around, he clearly couldn’t find a trash can and ended up putting the remains of the mug carefully in the corner of the wood box. “I’m angry, furious that all this went on under my nose and I didn’t have a hint that anything was wrong in the coven. People got hurt on my watch, some might have died, and it’s my responsibility.”
“Oh, my gods. Really? Well, fine. You sound pretty convinced to me. I suggest you turn yourself into the council then.” Arvyn sat on the couch, folding one of his legs underneath him and spreading his arm across the back of the couch. “If you’re that determined to be a martyr, then take full blame, tell the council you did it…”
“I didn’t do it.” Kirill’s fists were clenched as he came towards him, but Arvyn knew his vampire would never hurt him. “I would never do anything like that to another living being. I didn’t have anything to do with it, nothing at all. Everything we saw on those screens was all Yakov’s doing, him and that bastard Sven.”
Arvyn waited, letting his mate’s words hang in the air. It probably took a full minute, the tension between them stretching taut like a rubber band. But finally, Kirill’s hands relaxed, his shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his hand over his chin. “Oh, shit.”
“Oh, shit, is right.” Arvyn patted the space on the couch beside him. “More importantly, Ra was right. Come and sit down for a moment and explain to me why anger appears to be your go-to emotion for handling anything unpleasant, because I have to say, that could get tedious after a while.”
“It’s not as a rule – anger as a coping mechanism, I mean.” Wiping his hands on his pants, Kirill came around the coffee table and plunked down in the seat Arvyn indicated. “And I’m not making excuses either. It’s just… I just…”
Arvyn could feel the rigid tension in Kirill’s shoulder as he rested his hand there. “Are abused victims a trigger for you?” he asked quietly. “You said yourself, you’re very old, and historically shifters and vampires alike haven’t been overly fair in their treatment of humans.”
“There were shifters in that barn too, you know.”
That wasn’t something Arvyn was likely to forget in a hurry and the only reason Arvyn could stay so calm about it, was that he knew those poor shifters would get the very best of care now they’d been rescued. Of course, they were unlikely to ever go near another vampire again, but it wasn’t as though vampires were prolific and with time, counseling, and hopefully reuniting with some of their own kind, the affected shifters would get over their trauma.
Which wasn’t a discussion Arvyn wanted to have with Kirill, given he was a vampire, and their other mate Ra was sitting by himself in another room – or at least Arvyn hoped he was. Instead, he just nodded and hoped Kirill would explain.
“A vampire’s casual disregard for human life, and other paranormal beings, was one of the reasons why I started my own coven from a young age – well, young in vampire terms.” Kirill leaned against the back cushions. “The Master in the coven I grew up in had no time for donor rights – the humans in his coven were slaves. The Master’s hounds had more rights and privileges than any of the humans that kept us alive did. I hated the things I saw back then, but I was young and there was nothing I could do about it.”