“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I told her, frowning at my reflection.
She protested but I overruled her and hung up the phone. In any dream or vision of my future wedding, I’d always had a chic wedding planner and would go to their office in an impeccably tailored dress, sip sparkling water from crystal glasses, and spend hours pouring over every fussy detail. Now, all I wanted to do was glance at a menu and choose package B with the peony bouquet, off-white dress, and cathedral backdrop and call it done. That was perhaps the thing that made me despise my father the most. He wasn’t content to just steal away an entire lifetime of choices. He didn’t even have the decency to let me choose the man I’d have to face that life with.
But sure, when it came to flatware and the white-knuckle choice between having a buffet or full-service dinner, he would gladly hand over the reins. Did he really think he was fooling anyone?
Skipping the shower, I coated my limp locks in a volumizing spray, applied a layer of mascara and lip gloss, dressed in a simple shift dress and low-profile heels, and headed out to the guest cottage.
Three mind-numbing hours later, I had a good start on the wedding plans, a head-splitting throbbing between my temples from refereeing Athena and Gemma, and a new bone to pick with my father. One I planned on dealing with just as soon as I could get a nap and banish the nasty headache.
Slowly, I climbed the back stairs and started for my room. I stopped short, a snarl pulling at my lip, when I realized someone was waiting for me. I wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone, but on my list of people I actively did not want to see, Jerrod Tilth was permanently etched in the number one spot.
“What are you doing up here?” I demanded, not bothering to conceal the low growl in my voice.
Jerrod flashed an amused smile. “Good evening to you, too. I came to see you, since our time together was so rudely interrupted the other night at the club.”
“Either you’re really dumb or you just thoroughly enjoy being a pain in my side.”
Jerrod’s smile turned predatory. “Seems to me that without your guard dog around, you might be more bark than bite.”
My fangs descended and I flashed them at him. “You’ve probably studied under my father’s command for what, three, four, years? I’ve been trained by him since I was a toddler. Every move and trick you know, I know it better.” I moved in a step closer, taunting his restraint. “I’m considering asking my father to let me have a turn in the ring with the winner of this sick little game. I can guarantee I’d be the one walking away if it came down to you and me.”
“That so? And who is it you want to face off with, princess? Matthias?”
I gave a casual shrug. “He’d be preferable to you, by a long shot.”
Jerrod closed the space between us until his face was an inch from mine. His hot breath made my skin crawl, but I refused to back down. “I know things about your little boyfriend that would make your head spin,” he jeered.
I heaved a bored sigh. “Yes, I’m sure he’s a real boogeyman.”
“Do you know where he was during his time away from the Court? You should ask him about that.”
“Go away,” I told him, moving to pass him. “I have better things to do than standing around here all day debating with you.”
“Oh, yes. You’re the valiant one trying to track down our lost little Jupiter.”
My hands clenched at the taunting in his voice.
“She’s long gone,” Jerrod continued.
“How do you know?” I demanded, anger spiking in my chest.
“Common sense.” He leered at me. “If she’s not dead, then she’s probably somewhere wishing she was.”
I thrust my shoulders back. “My father has investigators working to find her. I’m going to speak with them this evening.”
It was a lie, but the more Jerrod ran his mouth, the closer I got to flying into my father’s study and demanding to speak with someone in charge of the search. Or maybe throwing my paranoia to the wind and calling the SPA in to track her down. They employed witches, wizards, shifters, goblin. Surely someone there would have a trick or insight.
“You father doesn’t care about one little house servant. She’s just a turn. We have thousands of them.”
“Thousands of them?” I repeated.
Something sparked in Jerrod’s eyes and while it fluttered away with a blink, it was obvious he recognized his mistake. “Hundreds,” he said. “In the Eastern Court. Losing one isn’t going to make a difference. Your father knows that.”
“Aren’t you yourself a turn?”
Jerrod’s eyes sparked. “I’m nearly a hundred years old. I know more than most of the Court bornlings put together. Your father obviously doesn’t see me as a throw away like Jupiter, otherwise he wouldn’t let me enter the tournament or promise me a title.”
My father’s words danced on the tip of my tongue, but I held them back. Jerrod wouldn’t believe me anyway. In Jerrod’s eyes, he was loyal to my father and in return, my father was loyal to him. I almost pitied him for his blind adoration.
Almost.
The slipped comment about the turns was interesting though. Even if every single member of the Eastern Court had passed the curse to two humans, it wouldn’t add up to thousands of new vampires. So, was Jerrod’s statement really a slip of the tongue, or was there some truth behind it? Matthias had told me there were more turned vamps in the designated support groups in the haven. They had to be coming from somewhere. But what did that have to do with my father?
I didn’t know, but staring at Jerrod’s smug grin, it was clear that he did.
There was only one way I was going to get him to share his secrets.
Before I’d left the Harbor, I’d done a favor for my witch roommate—one of many—and bargained for a custom potion. Holly was an elemental witch who excelled at potion work. At the time of my request, I’d already received the summoning letter from my father. I’d thought long and hard about what potion would best suit the impending journey home and had decided on a truth serum. She had some cutesy name for it, but essentially, it forced the partaker into telling the unguarded truth about anything for the span of several minutes. In a place as slippery as a vampire court, it was invaluable.
But, up to this point, I hadn’t needed to use it.
“Whatever,” I said, dismissing him with a hand. “How long are you planning on skulking about out here? I want to take a nap and would feel better knowing you’re far, far away.”
Jerrod’s smug grin returned and my stomach rolled. He was handsome, but in a harsh way. The angles of his face were a little too sharp, his hair too stiff, his muscles too big, though I had no doubt that half the eligible—and likely even some of the non-eligible—women of the Court were lamenting his entrance in the tournament.
Don’t worry, ladies. I’m not planning to take him off the market. If he makes it out alive, he’s all yours.
“Maybe I’ll stand out here and keep guard for a little while,” he replied.
I scowled at him but pushed past and stalked the rest of the way to my room. I fired off one last look before shutting the door a little harder than necessary. I heard him chuckling through the thick wood and smiled. “Laugh it up,” I whispered. I crossed the room and flung open one of my suitcases. It took a little digging but I quickly found a small cloth pouch. Inside sat three small vials: A sleeping potion, a muscle relaxant, and then the truth serum. I opened the first vial and took a deep whiff of the herbal muscle relaxant potion I’d purchased from Holly when she handed over the truth serum. According to Holly, only a few drops were needed. But I’d told her it was for back pain, not for knocking out a two-hundred pound vampire with an ego the size of Texas. So, to be on the safe side, I emptied the entire vial into the syringe.
Why take the chance?