"Oh?" Jordan stands up, towering over the low table and Fake Sir Akerley. "You want to know what I think a blood sack is for?"
Panic flashes across James's eyes, and he tries to get up, most likely to mediate and de-escalate the situation. But my arm is in the way, and I have no intention whatsoever to move it away.
With his momentum interrupted, he bounces back onto the sofa and throws me a puzzled gaze; I respond by shaking my head, mouthing that everything's fine. That earns me a look that seems to be asking what the fuck is wrong with my brain.
How hurtful. Don't you trust me?
Well, looks like that's a no.
Not like it's surprising, though. I mean, even if James has an inkling that Jordan is not your run-of-the-mill demon, I'm fairly sure the thought of him being a patriarch never crossed his mind. So, let's just say that, right now, my husband's behavior looks pretty much suicidal. Although in my eyes, it's the other way around.
"Sit down. This human might be your husband, but he's still nothing more than a blood sack, and you have no say in the matter—"
Fake Sir Akerley can't finish his sentence as the pressure in the room skyrockets in a fraction of a second. The next instant, six pairs of beautiful wings unfold, and a golden eye shines.
"Would you mind repeating that?"
Jordan's true voice echoes, carrying an authority that seems too heavy for the highborn vampire to endure. His shoulders slump forward as he instinctively lowers his head in submission. I can see horror, confusion, and panic swirl around in his eyes.
It's almost comical, really.
"I have no say in the matter? Hm?"
No answer comes. Fake Sir Akerley seems to have lost his voice, unable to utter a single word. There's an acrid smell hovering in the air, and I fear this oh-so-mighty vampire has soiled his pants.
The thing is: the vampire patriarch shouldn't react that way, and Jordan slowly turns around to glance at me, the unsaid question lingering at the tip of his tongue. Asking would reveal what I am, so he doesn't. He's probably planning on asking later, when there're no indiscreet ears around.
I feel a smile tug at the corner of my lips and peer at James, who is utterly gobsmacked. There's no other way to describe the face he's pulling.
Damn, dude, you look like a goldfish, but on the bright side, he hasn't peed himself, unlike a certain someone. He is, though, white like a sheet.
He gulps, then slowly shifts his gaze toward me, uncertainty making him unable to speak. He's like a lost child, and I gotta admit, that's kinda cute.
Oh well, whatever.
—I guess I've got a sweet spot for the guy, and I don't like the idea of his clan head toying with him.
"The grandson."
That's the only thing Jordan needs to hear to know who the real patriarch is. That said, I turn my head toward where the real Sir Akerley is sitting. His eyes are wide open, but unlike his double, his facial features aren't distorted by fear. No, all I can see is only some sort of frenzied joy I can't quite comprehend.
"And he seems to be a little too elated by the turn of events."
"Shadow form…?"
"Yep." I gesture at the chair with my chin, and surprise replaces the excitement on the boy's face. He looks at me, and I look back at him. "He's been sitting on the chair the whole time, enjoying the show."
"Oh, really, now?"
I shrug, and the next instant, Sir Akerley seems to have emerged from his shadow form, considering Jordan's reaction. His gaze has focused on him as the vampire jumps up and tiptoes his way to the sofa to sit beside his terrorized double.
A few seconds pass in silence before he asks with a cocked eyebrow, his lips breaking into a wild grin, "Seer, huh…?"
"Apparently."
He narrows his eyes, and I quirk an eyebrow. Yes, I knew who you were from the start, and yes, I played along with your charade. Vexed?
"Anyway." Sir Akerley shifts his attention to my husband, his tone of voice so polite it sends shivers down my spine. "Would you mind decreasing your aura, my Lord? My servant here is about to have a heart attack, and my heir isn't faring so well, either."
Right, James looks about to faint. I couldn't care less about the other one, but it's another story for the vampire by my side, and Jordan knows it.
In a split second, the heavy pressure shrouding the room is gone. It doesn't make Jordan any less imposing, though.
"So," his tone of voice hasn't warmed up yet, "let me ask again, do I have no say in the matter?"
"No, of course not."
That's not what your double was saying a moment ago, but whatever.
"My servant misspoke." A kind smile, but the whirlpool in his eyes is telling me that his excitement has yet to abate. No, for whatever weird reason, it's only getting worse, no matter how calm he might appear outwardly. "Please forgive his rudeness."
A little late for the pleasantries, don't you think? I let out a snort, and Sir Akerley responds with a resigned, but amused scoff.
"Although I guess I can't hide anything in front of a Seer. Alright, I admit, I'm pretty, let's say, overwhelmed right now. I would never have expected my heir to make such interesting acquaintances."
I've got a hunch your heir also wasn't expecting to have such interesting acquaintances, but here we are.
"You say that," Jordan sneers, "but you've realized something was amiss the moment I brought up the owner of the Althea clinic, didn't you?"
"And you played along with the provocation even though you knew it was done on purpose."
"On purpose?" I can't help but repeat.
"Yes, on purpose." Jordan's voice is kinder when he turns around to talk to me. Aw, he doesn't forget to soften his voice when he talks to me, how sweet. No, scratch that. Don't soften your voice like that after intimidating someone! It's scary as fuck! "Despite the common belief that depicts Sir Akerley as a petty, snotty geezer, he's been the clan head for millennia, and that's not something you can achieve by being an ego-centric fool."
In short, you two were playing 3D chess during dinner, gotcha. I've got a question, though.
"Why did you play along, then?"
"Because provocation or not, he'd have put into action his words. He's not kind-hearted."
That much, I've already figured it out, considering the shitty situation James has gone through and he's still going through, all that 'cause Mister here has decided to turn a blind eye to Oliver's fraternization with the kobolds.
"Also, let me make my position clear," Jordan's voice is again frosty cold when he speaks to Sir Akerley, "my husband has taken a liking to your heir, and so has the matriarch of my clan, enough to let James pet her."
Oh, the vampire clan head finally freezes, stunned. The incredulous expression on his face is just perfect. But…
"Jordan, won't she mind if you out her like this?"
"Don't worry, she won't."
"Are you sure?"
I tilt my head toward James, whose brain seems to have broken at some point. To be fair, I know Eve probably won't care. What she'd care about, though, is missing on James's silly face.
Realization seems to strike Jordan, and his smile cracks ever so slightly.
Yeah, you've messed up a bit here, pal.