Somehow, at some point, Sir Akerley has climbed onto my lap, and he's now happily sipping on his tea. Why? No fucking clue. But as long as he lets me eat in peace, I don't give a shit where the hell he sits. I can even pretend to be his nanny if that makes him happy.
I mean, those steaks are to die for, and I'd very much like to have a second serving, thank you.
"Did his parents never feed him or something?" One attendee snorts, loud enough for everyone to hear. "How unsightly."
Oh, that's impressive, girl. Your instinct is spot on. Why do you think Melissa was sneaking food into my room, eh? Certainly not because Miria saw fit to feed me three times a day.
"Do you want mine?"
I eye Jordan's plate and hesitate. Would it be too much if I ate my husband's portion, too…? He has barely touched anything. All he has done is poke the vegetables with his fork. Is the meal too copious? He hasn't eaten anything for days, so his stomach might be more fragile than usual. He's a demon, yes, but even demons can have digestive problems.
"You don't want it?"
"No, no! I want it, thank you."
So, I get my husband's serving, too. Sweet.
While the attendees are busy dissing my table manners, I enjoy my meal, twisting my upper body on the side so I can eat over the boy's shoulder.
Sir Akerley doesn't seem to mind, busy drinking his tea and flailing his legs on each side of my thigh. His outward appearance suggests that he's relaxed and even having a good time, but I've caught sight of the calm, calculative, and cautious swirling in his eyes; it's telling me he's observing everyone in the room, scrutinizing their every move and word.
That includes Jordan and me, but also the other vampires. I've also noticed, before he sat on me, that the brighter red streaks in his eyes shine stronger whenever his gaze lands on Olivier, an ominous sign for the youngster.
A sneer threatens to break on my lips. It seems the information we have about Sir Akerley is worth shit, and we know nothing of the man. What a cunning old geezer.
"I see that you look well," Olivier finally speaks, his attention focused on James. "You suddenly vanished into thin air, and we've been worried sick about you."
Oh, the galls.
"Well, I've been busy investigating the cause behind the unrest in our territory. The next time something comes up, I'll be sure to warn you first."
Sparks seem about to erupt between the two, and I scoot closer to Jordan with Sir Akerley. I don't care how entertaining the "boy" is by his kin's squabble, I'd rather not be caught in the middle, thank you very much.
But darn, the hypocrisy runs deep in this family. I'm pretty sure everyone knows what truly happened, yet no one is speaking up. They all seem to have tacitly decided that the murder spree done by the kobolds, the kidnapping of the heir, and Olivier's clear disregard of the class hierarchy don't matter.
Instead, something else seems to be of interest to them, and that something else is me. I'm the one they wanted to meet.
They might try to hide their curiosity with snickers and scornful gazes, but their eyes can't lie, or at least, not to me. Regardless of their age, a vampire's emotions affect the color of their irises a bit too much, making it easy for a Seer to tell what's going through their mind. It's almost like watching a dog getting betrayed by its wagging or dropping tail.
"I'm surprised, though," a woman looking to be in her mid-thirties says, an insufferable smile on her lips as she eyes me. "I hear you got badly hurt, James, but you seem to be in peak health. How strange."
Subtlety isn't her forte, huh? Why don't you directly ask him if my blood saved his ass while you're at it? It'd save us some time.
"Right, I did indeed get injured while chasing the kobolds." I've got a newfound respect for James; his polite smile isn't even faltering! "Thankfully, Jordan and his colleague brought me to an acquaintance of theirs in the nick of time, and she did a wonderful job patching me up. I guess I was lucky."
"An acquaintance?"
"The owner of the Althea clinic is a friend of mine," Jordan answers for James, his voice calm and unrushed. "She specializes in treating otherworldly beings' injuries."
I can feel Sir Akerley stiffen ever-so-slightly on my lap, and I've got to resist cocking an eyebrow. Does the geezer know about Lucy? Maybe. At the end of the day, he is a patriarch, and he's been around for quite a while, according to the hunters' textbook, anyway.
Some of the elders also seem to be taken aback, a frown creasing their brows. I guess Lucy's clinic is more famous than I thought.
"Wasn't the Althea clinic around during the vampire hunts?" An elder not-so-discreetly whispers to his neighbor, another elder. "Didn't the owner treat our wounded during that hellish period?"
"Yes, that's the one. I don't know how many would have died without her timely intervention."
Wait a second there, pals. An angel? Treating vampires for free? Nah, there's no way in hell Lucy would—oh, would you look at that? Sir Akerley is so stiff that I feel like his muscles are just about to snap under the tension. He's still happily drinking his tea, but when I bend over to look at his face, his bright red eyes have dulled slightly.
He lifts his gaze to look at me, seemingly asking what I'm doing. So, I respond with a caring smile and say, "You look a little pale. Do you have some difficulty digesting the piece of steak you ate earlier?"
"Yes!" Sir Akerley responds with a pout that stretches his lips into a taut line. Dude, you deserve an Oscar for your acting. "It tasted nothing, and it just feels like there's a rock in my tummy now."
"The tea isn't helping?"
"No, it barely does anything. But it tastes good at least."
Continuing with the act, I pat his tiny back in a comforting manner. Meanwhile, there's one idiot in the lot that isn't convinced by Jordan's words, like what, it can't be the only reason James is still alive and well. Something else must be at play.
"I've heard it took you a certain time to see that doctor, though. How did you manage to hold on until then?"
Seriously, just outright ask if my blood is what kept him alive instead of beating around the bush. Is probing the only thing these guys can do? Welp, with these two-faced jerks and black-bellied dimwits around, it's no wonder James developed such an annoying habit.
Ah crap, I've just instinctively wiped the biscuit crumbs on Sir Akerley's chin. Dang, this has become a habit thanks to the kids. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to mind.
"—Well, as you know, I have good control over my own body and blood cells. I simply did my best to slow down the damage done to my heart and other organs, although I admit I was on death's door when the doctor took charge of me."
Looks like James has no intention whatsoever to admit that he drank my blood. In any case, Seer's blood might be a rarity, but it has no particular effect whatsoever. Well, none that I know of, anyway. All my blood did was give him the necessary nutrients his body needed to keep functioning until Jordan and Eve found us. It had been a temporary fix.
"It's not that I doubt your words," Oliver smiles coldly, "but it's hard to believe. Would your friend mind showing us his wrists?"
Ok, fine, I'd rather you kept beating around the bush. Who the heck asks strangers to show them body parts? What a perverted freak.
Should I comply or tell him to piss off? Either way, it'll confirm that I did, indeed, give him my blood. So, what should I—
"Grandfather says that asking others to undress is what bad people do and that I should never do it." Sir Akerley blinks his big, round eyes. "So, why are you asking him to pull up his sleeves? Are you a perverted old man, Uncle?"
Don't laugh, Scott. Don't you dare laugh—oh, fuck it, I'm gonna laugh my head off here, 'cause darn, Oliver's dumbfounded face is so frigging priceless. I wonder how much funnier it'd have looked had he known the rude boy was his clan head, too.