Dark Baphomet: A Vampire Romance

13: Dynamic Problem Solving

Konaton escorted me and Jhez the entire way back to our flat. Mostly it just made for stimulating silences that stretched interminably.

A member of Garthelle's goon squad had parked in the hallway alcove nearest our apartment. Their posture and energy felt more relaxed than the earlier goons. They still snapped from their slouch against the wall and offered Konaton a crisp salute. The sharp gesture startled me; the last thing I expected of vamp goons was a show of anything resembling military bearing.

Vamps funded the payrolls for any personnel in their metro and territory, just like they had before the Disclosure. The sole detectable difference in the aftermath of that global mayhem was the vamps' collective lack of subterfuge. Mercenaries took pride in their casual facade and ability to blend into the scenery, even if they served in a branch of some country's government military prior to the Disclosure. I just called them vamp goons since it's easier, and it's what they were.

Konaton waved them off and they slumped back into a posture of casual nonchalance in the nearby alcove. The alcove's window provided an unobstructed view of the street and sidewalk along the length of the building's frontage.

"Andre over there will ensure your safety and privacy until this evening." Konaton jutted his chin toward the goon in the hallway as he stopped a few strides shy of the mangled door to our flat. "You'll have new accommodations tomorrow. They're being prepared. In the meantime, pack any personal belongings."

"Isn't that gracious of the monsieur," I said, too exhausted to bother reining in my sarcasm. "Be sure to extend him our gratitude."

Konaton caught and held my gaze long enough to acknowledge I'd spoke. "Of course." He glazed past my sarcastic quip with disinterest.

I flipped my hands up as he turned away, giving his back a double-barreled bird. It made me feel a tiny bit better, and I got to preserve a small measure of my dignity and autonomy, even if it was just my perception.

Ugh, the least he could've done was give me a smile, even if it dripped with as much sarcasm as my tone.

I closed the door as gently as I could given its extensive damage, and leaned against it to force the deadbolt to engage. I stayed there and let the door hold me up, too tired to even cross my arms.

On the far side of the door at my back, Konaton's tread retreated down the hallway, and then faded beyond hearing.

The silence and stillness felt out of place, vacuous.

The bodies were gone.

The shattered remnants of the coffee table were absent as well.

Jhez stared at me across the strangely spacious living room, hands braced behind her on the small dining table at the far side of the living room, tucked under the narrow window.

"We're alive," Jhez commented.

At her tone, I barked a laugh. It came out as little more than a rough exhale. "We do manage that more often than not."

"I have a million questions for you." Jhez pushed off the table and stepped toward me, folded her arms and braced her feet, reminiscent of the stance Konaton had adopted in our doorway. The abused, ancient couch spanned the distance between us, a no man's land once familiar, now skewed into foreign territory.

She wanted answers.

I didn't blame her.

I considered the caliber of my exhaustion and the distance to my bed for only a second or two before surrendering to the closer space. I eased down onto the couch, slumping into the corner like overcooked pasta, and tried not to look offended or defensive. Maybe she'd pop us some popcorn to munch on while we sat here, if I seemed sufficiently cooperative. Ugh. I love my sibling but sometimes...