“Why?” I ask again.
“He has my son,” he whispers, looking at Father. Who has the self-satisfied expression of someone who checkmated everyone in the game.
“Then you should have told Lowe.”
Mick shakes his head. “Lowe couldn’t—”
“Lowe would have done anything for you,” I hiss, nauseous with rage. “Lowe would die himself before he let anything happen to a pack member. You’ve known him since he was a child—he’s your Alpha, and yet you don’t understand him at all.” Anger bubbles. I can’t remember the last time I spoke this harshly to someone. “The poison, it was you, wasn’t it? Did you also send Max after Ana?”
“Misery,” Father interrupts. “You are a never-ending source of disappointment.”
My head whips in his direction. “Yeah? Since you’ve been taking people hostage and blackmailing them, I could say the same, but the bar was already so fucking low.”
His eyes harden. “This is what you miss, Misery. Why you could never become a leader.”
I snort. “Because I don’t go around kidnapping people.”
“Because you have always been selfish and close-minded. Stubbornly unable to understand that the ends justify the means, and that things like fairness and peace and happiness are bigger than one specific person—or than a handful of them. The good of the most, Misery.” His shoulders rise and fall. “When you and your brother were little and the need for a Collateral arose, I had to decide which one of you would have the grit to take my place on the council. And I’m glad I chose Owen over you.”
I roll my eyes. There’s a good chance I won’t be alive when Owen’s coup goes down, but boy, do I wish I could witness Father shitting himself.
“Why do you think Vampyres still hold power, Misery? All over the world, our communities have been splintering. Many of them don’t hold their own territories, and are forced to live among the Humans. And yet, despite our dwindling numbers, here in North America we still have our home. Why do you think that is?”
“Because you so selflessly kill everyone who stands in your way?”
“Like I said: a source of disappointment.”
“Because of your strategic alliances within this geographical region,” Serena answers evenly in my place. Everyone turns to her in surprise, as though her presence was a forgotten thing.
Not by my father, though. “Miss Paris.” He nods courteously. “You are, of course, correct.”
“In the past hundred years, Humans and Weres have alternated between ignoring each other and being on the brink of war because of border disputes. They both have advantages over Vampyres, physical and numerical, but they’ve never even considered leveraging them. Because the Vampyres have somehow managed . . . well, not somehow,” Serena explains, a trace of that bitterness in her tone. “Through the Collateral system, you cultivated a very beneficial political alliance with the Humans. And the Weres knew this, just like they knew that any overt attack on Vampyre territory would unleash Human military power on them. That’s how you kept yourselves safe through the decades, despite being the most vulnerable of the three species.”
“Very thorough.” Father nods, satisfied.
“I imagine there’s more. For instance, I’m certain that if we were to look closely at the border skirmishes between Weres and Humans in the past few decades, we’d find that they were facilitated by Vampyre action. Just like I’m certain that considerable bribes were involved. Governor Davenport is undoubtedly not above accepting them.”
Father doesn’t deny it. “I see the weeks you spent reading improved your reasoning skills, Miss Paris.”
Her chin lifts. “My reasoning skills have always been on point, fuckwaffle.”
Must be the first time Father has been called that. It’s the only explanation for the mildly outraged, mostly baffled hesitation that fills the room: no one knows how to respond to an overt insult, because unlike subtle jabs and assassination attempts, in Father’s world they are not a thing. Eventually, after several awkward seconds, Vania steps forward and raises her hand to hit Serena.
I angle myself between the two of them, which in turn has Serena wanting to protect me. But Father puts a stop to that by ordering, “Let them be. We want them both intact, for now.”
Vania glares at Serena. At a flick of Father’s wrist, two of the guards come to stand next to us. The implied threat is crystal clear.
“I could have killed your friend, Misery. So many times. You know why I didn’t?” he asks me.
“To spare my feelings?” I answer, skeptical.
“That was a nice bonus, I agree. Because no matter what you may think, I do not enjoy hurting you, or taking things away from you. I was not happy to send my child off, although I doubt you’ll ever believe that. But ultimately, no, that was not the reason. I can only assume that Miss Paris neglected to tell you why I was forced to take her, then.”
“She didn’t have to tell me shit. I already know what happened.” But when I glance at Serena, her eyes dart away. And that’s when my stomach tightens. “She was working on an article,” I add, even though she won’t return my look. “And found out something she shouldn’t have.”
“So you really have no idea.” That complacent, self-congratulatory smirk, I want to punch it off Father’s face. “Let me enlighten you: several years ago, my dear friend Governor Davenport told me something he thought I might be interested in.”
“Of course the governor is in on it,” I sneer.
“Oh, you give him too much credit.” Father waves his hand. “He is in on it . . . sometimes. Over the years, I’ve gotten well acquainted with his mind. Thralling him, planting hooks in his brain, has become easier and easier. Practically traceless. He’s been giving me much useful information, some of particular intrigue. For instance, when he told me about a young child who had been born of Were and Human parents.”
Ana. Of course. The governor must have found out, perhaps from Thomas, or maybe from . . . I turn to Mick again. “Did you tell the governor?”
“Oh, no,” Father interrupts. “You are mistaken, Misery. Mick wasn’t part of this until very recently, and it was I who sought him out. I will take credit where it’s due, even if you’ll accuse me of being a heartless monster. It was my idea to use his son once we realized that the boy we had taken during a raid had ties to a prominent Were. It was easy enough for me to thrall him. He even helped with guarding Miss Paris.”
“What a thing to brag about, Father.”
“Indeed. But it was quite a while ago that the governor told me about the half-Were, half-Human child. Over two decades, in fact.”
I stiffen. A wave of dread sweeps over me.