Werewolf and Vampire Mate [Book 1 Complete]

chapter seventeen.

Nikolai

The vampiric Council of Elders presides in the catacombs beneath an old New York church. It is cold and damp and generally miserable. Even more so tonight.

I stride down the dimly lit passageway, which opens into a subterranean recess large enough for fifty or so people. The members of the Council sit on throne-like seats propped up on a cement platform.

Tonight, far more than fifty vampires have gathered, making the space cramped and uncomfortable.

I'm already irritable and this is only making things worse.

"Nikolai Goncharov," comes the depressing, lolling voice of Ozius. He's generally the speaker for the Council. "Approach."

The Council are the oldest of any vampires. Thousands and thousands of years they have roamed this earth. When is someone going to put them out of their misery?

I walk straight through the crowd, hardly caring who I smack into, until I stand before the Council. They stare down at me with dull, half-vacant eyes.

The older a vampire is, the stronger they are. But I think in this case, the Council's age has worn them down to shells. And these are the ones leading our people. I almost roll my eyes.

"Recount the events of the night so that we might understand how the truce was broken," Ozius commands. Everyone falls silent, waiting for me to speak.

"The werewolf Prince, Orson Reed, entered my home. He, along with three members of his pack, attacked myself and the other vampire guests present. He proceeded to kidnap my Kindred and–"

"Stop." Ozius holds up a hand and my jaw clenches with irritation. "You have claimed a Kindred and yet haven't presented them to the Council?"

This time, not rolling my eyes is a feat of control. In the fifteenth and sixteenth century it was custom to present a Kindred to the Council before claiming them. But that tradition died off long ago; hardly anyone follows it today.

"No. She is not yet claimed," I grind out.

"So then...she is not your Kindred," Ozius says and I wonder how hard it would be to rip his head from his body. He might have a couple thousand years on me, but he looks like he's been sitting in that chair for the better part of five centuries, so maybe it wouldn't be too difficult.

"Not yet," I allow. "But only because Orson Reed kidnapped her before I had a chance to claim her."

"So you were not planning to present her to the Council then?" Ozius pushes and I pinch the bridge of my nose. He is absolutely caught on the wrong detail.

"I think what Nikolai is trying to explain is that he was unable to go through proper claiming processes because of the actions of the werewolves," Beatrice speaks up and I am infinitely glad for it. She is a voice of reason in this suffocating tomb. She drifts out from the shadows, standing up on the cement platform with the rest of the Council of Elders.

She is not technically part of the Council, but she is somewhat of an honorary member, a close advisor.

Ozius makes a noise—agreement or disagreement or something else entirely, I can't tell. But, thankfully, he moves on. The other Council members watch with dreary eyes. "And this fight led you to taking a werewolf captive, is that correct?" Ozius questions.

"Yes. Although it was my guests who took her captive, I planned to use this as leverage to retrieve my Kindred."

"But...this did not come to fruition?"