Christian (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 10) by D.B. Reynolds Page B

too old. Christian suspected the lyrical accent was something adopted during the vampire lord’s long association with the Cajuns of New Orleans. Maybe to fit in better, or maybe just because he liked the way it sounded.
    Anthony sat abruptly, and Christian joined him, dropping onto one of the silk upholstered visitor chairs. He dipped his head in polite thanks, but didn’t comment on Anthony’s blunt statement. The situation was what it was. He couldn’t change that.
    “Raphael said the two of you reached a deal,” Anthony continued, not even trying to mask his bitterness. “But no one asked me about any deal, and I’m not part of it.”
    Christian met the other vampire’s flat stare with one of his own. He’d come here as a courtesy, to be civil. But fuck this.
    “I think we both know, Anthony,” he said conversationally, while intentionally leaving off the vampire’s lofty title, “that I don’t need your approval or your cooperation to get what I want. For that matter, I didn’t need Raphael’s agreement, either. But he, at least, was courteous enough to hear me out and, ultimately, wise enough to see the mutual benefit. Personal likes or dislikes don’t come into it. My arrangement with Raphael will save vampire lives.”
    “Maybe. Or maybe the fact that you’re barging in where you’re not welcome will cost them instead. My people will fight you on this, Duvall. You’ve no right to this territory.”
    “I have the same right as any other vampire to enter the challenge. We keep what we can hold. It has always been thus.”
    “It has always been thus,” Anthony mimicked, his voice a nasally whine. “Listen to yourself. You don’t belong here, you pompous ass.”
    Christian wanted to jump across the desk, grab the scrawny little fucker, and show him exactly who belonged and who didn’t. If he killed Anthony here and now, he wouldn’t have to worry about any fucking challenge. He’d be Lord of the South by default. But then, he’d probably have to fight a slew of challenges anyway, since it was likely at least some of Anthony’s people would want revenge. And Raphael wouldn’t be pleased.
    He rose to his feet and plastered a pleasant smile on his face, but he didn’t bother to conceal his true feelings. Anthony reacted at once, jumping up and kicking the chair out of his way as he moved to put the wall at his back.
    It was hardly the reaction of a vampire lord who was confident in his power. And Christian’s smile turned smug. “I’ll take my leave, Anthony, and wish you luck upon your return to New Orleans.”
    The vampire lord’s dark eyes flared at the subtle warning in Christian’s words. It was a reminder that when Anthony surrendered the territory, and went back to being Master of the city of New Orleans, he would owe fealty to the next Lord of the South, whoever that was. Even Christian.
    If Anthony had disliked him before this little tête-à-tête, he thoroughly despised him now. And Christian knew he’d have to watch his back even more closely. He gave a mental shrug. It wasn’t what he’d hoped for from tonight’s meeting, but it wasn’t a complete surprise either.
    “À bientôt,” he said, then intentionally turned his back on the fuming vampire lord and walked out of the office, shoving the doors open with a wisp of his power.
    Marc was waiting for him, already on his feet and alert by the time Christian slammed the doors open. He didn’t need anyone to tell him how the meeting went. “Sire.” He didn’t go for the formal address often, but certain situations demanded it, and he understood.
    “Let’s go,” Christian snapped. A quick glance told him beautiful Natalie was missing from the office, but that was probably for the best. He was in no mood to be charming.
    “Lord Christian,” the receptionist said breathily, calling his attention to her for the first time. She was a lovely young woman, but in her sheer blouse and cheek-hugging skirt, she was a