At Blade's Edge (11 page)

Someone
was annoyed.

Clive adjusted his cuffs. Something he did when he tried to keep his temper. “I wasn’t aware they’d changed their stance.”

Rowan sighed inwardly. This had to be about her or he wouldn’t be trying so hard to be blasé in front of her.

She knew how to play politics. Knew the Vampire rules and ways better than most Vampires did. She knew how to be brutal and vicious and even merciless. But she didn’t know how to be a
wife
. Like, at all.

She hadn’t grown up around married people, or long-term romantic relationships. Rowan’s father’s family was scattered throughout the Keep, but the married ones with families lived outside the innermost court.

As an adult she had known Susan and Rex and was glad to have such a great example of what a working relationship looked like. But it didn’t come naturally to her, this wife of the Scion thing. She desperately didn’t want to mess up and make things harder for him.

Not by mistake anyway. If she made things harder for him, Rowan wanted it to be on purpose.

Still, she let her gaze wander over to Clive. Damn, he looked good in that suit. Heat flashed through her. Her nipples tightened as she remembered his soap-slicked hands all over her body, of his skin sliding against hers.

It
was
good to know the part of marriage she seemed to do pretty well at was the sex part. She knew what to do when it came to that. Thank the heavens above he did too.

Clive’s attention snapped to her as a delicate and sharp slice of desire flowed from her into the heart of him. The blood she’d shared had widened their connection. He considered hiding his response, not wanting to scare her or make her feel spied upon. But it would be a lie and he knew how she felt about being lied to.

And it was hot that despite the setting, Rowan—his mate—thought him desirable. Made him feel powerful.

“What’s this? Stance on what?” Rowan asked, re-focusing his attention on the problem of his uncles and their reaction to his marrying a woman they considered their sworn enemy.

“Let’s go into the drawing room for the telling of this. Though I’d have imagined you knew some already.”

“Would you like me to recite what I know?” Rowan’s tone had gone formal.

The telling of the history of his parents was part of the ritual of joining her to his family and house. His father was the Patriarch, he was at the helm, the most visible. It meant anyone seeking succor and protection in the arms of House Stewart had to rise to a very high standard.

Clive had no doubt whatsoever that Rowan had this handled. Growing up as she had, she understood Vampires in a way most anyone else wouldn’t. That knowledge was just one of the many atomic level powers his woman had.

His father took her in. “It’s not mandatory.”

Rowan nearly bristled, but she managed to keep her face emotionless. “I don’t believe in only performing the minimum all my life.”

Approval rode his father’s features. He allowed it, Clive knew, so Rowan would also see.

“We would love for you to recite it.” Antonia grabbed Charles and they headed from the room and once they’d gotten comfortable in the salon, Clive sat close enough to Rowan on the divan their bodies brushed. His way of showing his allegiance as well as giving in to his desire to touch.

Rowan picked up the conversation once more. “I know your house is one of the very first in the Nation but your line goes back much longer. I know you’re the Patriarch of House Stewart and her economic and social affairs.” She paused until his father indicated she go on.

“Your father, Malcolm, was Scottish,” Rowan said to Charles. “You are the oldest of seven children by two hundred years.”

Vampire families tended to be small. Their rates of reproduction were very low. Nature knew what it was doing. Too many Vampires would topple the balance.

But his grandfather had been one of a kind.

The physical, emotional and mental strengths natural Vampires carried meant that most of the very oldest—and therefore strongest—had been born that way.

Made Vampires didn’t have those advantages and unlike natural Vampires, their lifespans were a hundred years or less. The exceptions—like Enyo for instance—were usually Made by an Ancient.

“You were your father’s general for a considerable time. They called you Death at Moonlight. You met Antonia while riding home from the Treaty War.”

Rowan turned to Antonia, and Clive watched the swell of pride on his father’s face. This part of the ritual wasn’t necessary but Clive should have known Rowan would honor the female line of House Stewart as well as the male.

“You’re quite the special snowflake.”

His mother laughed. “I know that one! I’m ever so glad to have this opportunity to learn all sorts of new expressions.”

Clive’s father winced slightly.

“Your biological parents were human. Your mother, pregnant and violently ill, was Made to save her life and yours.”

Antonia nodded.

“You were raised by your Maker, trained as if you were his.”

In this, Rowan shared another thing with his mother.

“And then you met Charles when you were just thirty.”

“Back then it was common for women—humans and Vampires alike—to get married young.” Charles tried to stay gruff, but when it came to Antonia, he never could for very long.

“I meant no offense. I point it out in reference to her uniqueness, not in reference to your ages when you married nearly five hundred years ago.”

Clive liked the way she read his father, kept her tone bland and respectful, but not so cool and remote.

“He’s touchy about it,” Antonia said in a fake whisper, breaking the tension further.

Rowan gave his mother a look, a teasing glance.

“And then the commoner unites with the son of a warlord and within months, you create this one.” Rowan tipped her head toward Clive. “The next step in the powerhouse family line your father started with you, Charles. House Stewart continues to dominate.”

Antonia spoke, “I do hope you understand that we needed to be sure you know the basics when you deal with my brothers-in-law.”

Of course Rowan did.

That part of the process done with, Clive shifted back to the issue of his uncles. “Tell me, Rowan, what do you think the problem is with my uncles?”

“More than one thing. Jealousy, I imagine is the biggest factor. They want what you have. Not a complicated one, really. But, let’s be frank, Vampires are hyperaware of position and hierarchy. It’s coin in your world. Maybe marrying a human, or a Hunter, or a member of a service family has insulted them. Or maybe they—like other Vampires as you’re all aware—think my father a fool for treating me as his daughter when I’m a lowly human. Whatever the case, petty isn’t necessarily as frightening as it is a time waster. I understand your reasons and I assure you, I will respect my position as a member of your House.”

Charles nodded, approving. For Clive’s father, this was effusive praise. Pride flowed from Clive that his woman had impressed someone Clive admired so much.

“However.” Rowan sat straighter and let her Goddess shine bright enough to fill the room for several moments before She tucked Herself away once more. “I’m a power in my own right. I do not
serve
anyone but my path. My path sometimes includes killing Vampires. It often includes calling them out on their behavior, both personal and business. I also curse frequently and I can’t lie and say I plan to change that.”

Antonia said, “I should hope not. I find the Rowan you were after you started to beat up that man in the alley is far more amusing than the one you were before. As for his brothers, they’re snobs. They didn’t like me either.”

“They still don’t like you, sweet.” Charles smiled at his wife before shifting back to Rowan. “My brothers are younger than Clive, they lack his patience, but not his resolve.”

Rowan nodded.

Antonia added, “And we told them they would not be welcome in the house or at any of our events if they couldn’t keep a civil tongue and quit their whining. This has been a thing for so long I can’t even remember when it started. Probably the moment they popped off the tit.”

Charles closed his eyes for a brief moment as Rowan laughed.

“I’m not wrong. You’ll see when they show up. And they will because this is about power and they’re mad for it. As to the other? I want you to be yourself,” Antonia said.

Clive loved his mother for that. She’d made the joke but underlined to Rowan that she had their support.

“That’s not really a problem I have very often.” If Clive had ever doubted her commitment to him, taking in the way Rowan tried very hard to be diplomatic at that moment cinched it all up.

“That’s a lovely way of putting it.” His mother tried not to laugh but failed. “In any case, they don’t matter. If they misbehave, I’ll boot them myself.”

Clive was absolutely sure she would. But if his uncles were anything less than civil to Rowan, he’d do it before his mother had the chance.

Chapter Ten

There were a lot of things Rowan could say about Malcolm Stewart, Charles’ father, and one of them would be the Vampire made some extraordinary children.

Hill announced the arrival of Arthur and Thomas Stewart and when they came into the room she was struck by how they carried themselves.

Swagger in a Vampire was like kale being disgusting, Rowan knew it would always be there on some level. But these two handsome gents had a lot more swagger than they could carry well.

They weren’t dudebros, but they were the English equivalent.

“Ah, so glad we didn’t miss the opportunity to meet Clive’s new human bride.” The smile the lighter haired of the two gave was admirably blandly cheerful.

Too bad for Arthur Rowan wasn’t human and she could see the fear in the slight wobble at the right corner of his mouth.

Rowan caught his eyes and held them. He couldn’t glamour her and once he tried she sent him a raised brow.

Before she could speak though, Clive stepped to her side, every last inch of him the Scion of North America. His power rushed through the room, washing even the tiniest bit of swagger away from his uncles.

“You’ll speak to your betters without a tone or I’ll be sure you get the lesson.”

Oooh she loved it when he got all badass.

“I meant no offense, nephew.” Arthur held his hands palm out rather than showing his wrists palm up. Not nearly enough submission from the lesser Vampire.

“Don’t beg my pardon, it’s hers you need,” Clive’s cold tone sliced to the bone.

Damn, she was going to make him wear that face later when they had sexytimes because his haughty was on a hundred and it made all her bells and whistles ding ding ding.

Arthur paused, as if thinking of the right words. Clive was so fast Rowan didn’t even see the strike. She only knew he’d cuffed his uncle when the other Vampire went to his knees.

No one tried to stop Clive or tell him such things were unnecessary. They were because Arthur made it so. This sort of thing was part and parcel of a whole lot of family and business meetings between Vampires.

Arthur tried to take his feet again, but Thomas, the other brother, stopped him with a hand at his shoulder.

“Terribly rude of my brother.” He didn’t smile at Rowan, but she didn’t need him to. “I’m Thomas Stewart.”

Charles stepped forward, closer to Rowan, aligning himself with her as he introduced her. “Rowan Summerwaite, Vessel, Hunter, daughter of The First, bonded mate to Clive Stewart, and newest member of House Stewart, these are my brothers, Thomas and Arthur.” He sent a disgusted look at them both.

“I’m told some people just send a fruit basket and don’t head straight to insults when they meet someone new, but you know, to each his own I suppose.” Rowan raised one shoulder.

“Some creatures don’t know how to act,” Antonia said with a sniff. “Get up, Arthur. Make your apologies and let’s be done with this nonsense. Otherwise, be gone.”

He swung his gaze up to Antonia and she simply stared him down. Rowan could see these two were going to be a problem, but they weren’t
that
big a problem and in the end, they were just two more dumbass Vampires who needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

Luckily, that was one of her favorite pastimes.

Rowan sighed and turned her back on Arthur to speak to Clive. A calculated insult.

“I do need to make a call. I’ll return shortly.”

Clive withheld a smile of approval, but it was in his eyes.

Once she’d left the room, Clive turned his attention back to his uncles. “I was under the impression you’d been informed a certain level of decorum was required on your part to attend me and my wife this evening.”

“She’s quite the firecracker,” Antonia said as she sipped her drink, watching the situation.

“She’s a mongrel and a stain on this family,” Arthur said right before Clive hit him so hard he nearly snapped his uncle’s neck.

“Your time to run roughshod over this issue has long passed. I am
out
of patience.” Clive sneered, his lip curled at the mess his uncle made there, still on the floor.

“You would take this family into the gutter with you? This honorable line we’ve built for centuries into the powerhouse it is now? You would take the work of your elders and piss it all away?” Thomas asked.

“The gutter? Enlighten me, Thomas, as to your theory.” Clive eased a hip against the edge of a table.

“You’re Scion. You do this family and the Nation a disservice by bringing that cur into it.”

Clive’s laughter wasn’t amused at all. “You’re aware, I’m sure, that my wife was raised by our leader. I’m quite sure he’d look askance at anyone referring to the person he considers his daughter as a cur. Perhaps you should ask him when you see him next.” Clive paused. “Oh, yes, but you can’t. Because of everyone in this room, of everyone in this house, it is
I
who has that sort of access. And when my wife returns,
none
on this continent has the sort of connection and access to our leader, the heart of the Vampire Nation, save her. Your ignorance does a disservice to House Stewart and to the Vampire Nation.”

“Why isn’t she doing her own defending? It’s her place to do so if there are questions,” Thomas said, stepping around the truth Clive had just spoken.

Clive should have pitied them.

“She’ll return shortly, you bloody fool.” He shook his head at them.

“I’m appalled at you,” Charles said. “You come into my home and treat one of my guests in a way you gave your word you would not do. Our father would have been disgusted at your lack of honor.”

“He’s dead. His honor didn’t save him.”

Charles’ power came up hard and icy cold as it snapped over the room and everyone in it. “Do not speak in such a manner. Not in my home. Not in my family.”

Clive could count the number of times he’d seen his father murderously angry on two hands. Centuries of living and Charles Stewart’s control was legendary. He would get revenge, but he’d never lose a chance at it because he lost his temper or let an opponent manipulate his emotions that way.

“Our father’s honor is what allowed you to exist.” Charles stared his brothers down. “It’s
my
sufferance that allows you to stay that way.”

“Seriously, you guys.” Rowan came into the room. “You have centuries of life, money, power, all that and you still bicker over the stupidest shit.”

Clive let out a breath he’d been holding since she’d been so careful and reserved earlier. This was
his
Rowan and he preferred this version far more than the one she thought he needed.

“I believe you’re about to meet my wife, for real this time.” Clive poured himself another glass of bloodwine.

“Your
wife
doesn’t have time for this. I have real things to do. Whining Vampires aren’t that hard to find if I really needed to hear it. But I don’t.” She walked past his uncles, totally ignoring them.

“I take it you had an eventful phone call?” Clive asked, amused and charmed by this creature he loved so much.

“Sometimes, dear Scion, I do have positive phone calls. It’s nice to know that still works.” She cast a glance over her shoulder to his uncles. “They still bent that you married a human? I mean, I’m sure you explained I wasn’t human and all, but that’s not really the issue anyway. But, I have neither the time nor the inclination to hear about daddy issues. Those two are the type to complain their sack of gold is too heavy. Boo hoo.”

Before Thomas or Arthur could reply, she turned to take them in with a slow, ultimately dismissive glance from toe to head.

“You’re not worth my time or concern.”

“I say! You’re an interloper into this family. I am a Vampire who is centuries older than you, human.” Arthur tugged on the hem of his vest, attempting to set himself to rights. “It’s like the sixties all over again.” He sneered at Clive after making the jab.

Rowan sighed. “Are they like this all the time?” she asked Clive.

“Unfortunately.”

“Your opinions are utterly meaningless to me. And really, you’re both too stupid and weak for me to ever bother listening to. So, here’s the deal—and I suggest
you
listen—because I have to be somewhere in a few minutes. Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. I have enough problems, gentlemen, don’t be more.”

“Or what?” Arthur asked.

“Or I’ll end you. I don’t waste time with threats. That’s a promise.” Done with them, she spoke to Clive’s parents. “Thank you for dinner and the conversation. I apologize but I do need to rush off to break and enter.”

“We don’t want to stand in the way of that,” Antonia said.

Clive’s father took Rowan’s hand, her left, which meant he left her weapon hand free. Rowan understood it, tipping her chin deferentially. “It was a pleasure to welcome you to House Stewart. I apologize for the impression my brothers made and hope it does not reflect on your feelings.”

“Every family has those relatives. I get it.”

Charles looked at Clive for a moment before laughter burst from his lips. “Indeed.”

“Don’t look at me as if you’re planning to leave me here,” Clive told her as they headed out. She’d ignored his uncles, made sure to say her goodbyes to the staff and he’d let her pretend she was leaving alone until she came to a startled halt where he’d been waiting at the front doors.

“I figured you’d want to be with your parents.”

“They’ve been my parents a long time. They’ll be so for a long time to come I imagine. Where you go, I go. Especially if it means I’ll be permitted to watch you rough people up.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, Scion.”

“Until death we do part.” He risked a quick kiss and let her take the lead. He didn’t sigh wistfully as she continued down the walk, past their car and driver.

“Don’t start crying about your shoes,” she whispered over her shoulder.

“They’re very nice shoes and we have a car. I’m thinking of you as well,” he whispered back. “You’re wearing heels.”

“Exactly. And which one of us is weeping over it? Crybaby.”

He smiled at her back, knowing she smiled too.

Just a few blocks away, she hailed a cab and shot him a look.

“Someone is asking to be disciplined,” he murmured as he settled in next to her.

“You’re very self-destructive.” She gave the address of a pub just around the square from their home and once they’d been dropped off, they headed to the house.