“I understand.”
“I can grant you this only because there has been no official ceremony tying you to Pack … yet.” Not the truth, since I was blood-born and needed no ceremony, but the vamps likely didn’t know. “You are still separate from us.” He gritted his teeth and forced out, “This time. If you are successful in finding your … mate … and return to us alive … you will immediately be given the proper ceremonies, and will henceforth be expected to follow Pack Law to the letter.” His irises flashed, telling me all I needed to know. I would follow orders. “If you fail to do so, you’ll be labeled a rogue and cast out. There will be no more chances. My decision on this is final.”
That was it.
“I accept those conditions.”
My brother strode forward and knelt in front of our father, his head bowed, his voice clear. “I request permission to aid my sister in her quest as a Selective. I will act solely as her human bodyguard. I voluntarily forswear all of my rights as Pack during this journey.”
A Selective was a paid position wolves took outside of Pack for extra cash. The jobs usually consisted of some kind of bodyguarding or some other muscle. It was understood a Selective couldn’t shift, ever. They could not call any attention to themselves, use any powers, and anything that happened to them on the job wasn’t Pack business.
In a nutshell, if you were stupid enough to get yourself into trouble it was all on you.
It was extremely clever of Tyler, and extremely dangerous. He’d be forced to stay human for the duration of the journey. I would never allow it. I started, “Tyler, that’s—”
“Granted,” my father said before I could finish, clasping Tyler’s shoulder as he stood up. “You have my permission to act as a Selective, along with Daniel Walker, if he so desires. All restitutions will be made in full by Jessica on the eve of your return. Our standard hourly rates apply, of course,” my father said with his very first hint of a grin.
My father had just hired two bodyguards who would likely cost more than I made in two years.
“I hate to interrupt this adorable family moment,” the Queen snapped. “But the sun will be breaking the horizon shortly and we must act quickly if we are to move forward.”
I turned toward her and said, “I accept your aid.”
The Queen stepped from behind the altar and snapped her fingers. “Eamon, Naomi, come forward.”
A pair of vampires, both dressed in period costumes, came forward. It was clear they were siblings. They stood almost the same height, same brown hair, same lilt to their enamel features, dark eyes, and arching brows. Both looked like they’d been frozen in death in their early twenties, which seemed to be a common trait among the Undead.
The Queen directed her response at me next. “These two share a kin-bond and each has a particular specialty, one in tracking and the other in sensing. They are not only capable of getting you to your destination safely, but they will be able to detect Selene’s many defenses.” Her voice turned hard. “I do not lie in telling you this is the only way you will have a chance to succeed. After you breach Selene’s lair, it will be up to you, and you alone, to save your mate. Selene is a very dangerous being. None but your cat has ever bested her before. She will not relinquish him easily. You will have to kill her.”
“And what do you ask of me in return?” The billion-dollar question. If the price was too high, I would be forced to leave here with little chance of success.
My father stiffened beside me. Every fiber of his being rebelled at what I was about to do, but he stayed quiet, honoring his decision.
The Queen stepped up beside me, her lips parted without shame, flaunting her delight. The upper hand was hers, and if I refused—well, she would happily take glee in my sorrow. “It’s nothing really.” She gave another dismissive wave of her hand. “You will swear to return to me here in New Orleans, on the eve of our annual celebration of T?epes?, to provide your service of guard as we enjoy our … festivities.”
My mouth fell open a teensy bit without my consent. “You want me to serve as a guard dog at your annual gala?” I asked incredulously. She didn’t want my firstborn? Or my blood drained hourly? Or primal torture at the hands of Valdov?