I clear my throat to stifle a laugh. It does nothing to prevent my lips from curling up, though. But what can I do? Jonathan's disgruntled face is a sight to behold, and refraining from laughing out loud is akin to torture. Gosh, my bowels hurt.
Still, I know better than incur a patriarch's wrath, so I keep my mouth shut.
But… That pout... And that scrunched nose…
It's so childish…!
In the end, a half-snorted chortle escapes me despite all of my efforts, and Jonathan snaps his head toward me, his red eyes throwing daggers. As the good adult that I am, I pretend not to notice and lower my eyes to my toasts. Buddy, it's not my fault if you've decided to throw a tantrum in the dining room, but whatever.
"I didn't agree to this!" Jonathan growls, turning his attention back to Jordan.
"You were quite eager to play bait not even two days ago, though," my husband replies matter-of-factly. I can hear a hint of coldness in his voice. Looks like he still hasn't forgiven the patriarch for his little stunt and endangering James. If the children hadn't given a hint to my brother, we might still be stuck in that coffin-like box.
Worst yet, we might have already been open-up, our entrails dug out.
Even if kids are the favored sacrifices, I'm sure the lycans would've seen no harm with adding an adult to the mix. For the records, dying at the hands of cultists isn't exactly a death I favor; my dream is to die peacefully in my sleep, thank you very much.
"That's that, and this is this!" Jonathan stomps his feet, his arms crossed over his chest.
I take a bite from my toast, hoping I can stomach my breakfast, and listen to the vampire's tantrum with one ear.
Seems like Jonathan doesn't mind playing bait when he's the one proposing it, but not so much when it's others who put him up to the task. Maybe he's got an opposition problem or something. Or maybe he doesn't like being ordered around. At the end of the day, he's still a proud patriarch, although I must say that he doesn't exactly look like it today.
"Why's the kid being so loud this early in the morning?" Eve's voice travels to my ears as she steps inside the room and drags her feet to a chair, just to slouch on it and let her head fall on the table. A loud thud resounds. "Keep it down, will you? My head's killing me."
What the…? I freeze mid-movement, the toast pressed against my lips. Eve looks like an undead. It's the first time I've seen her hangover. To be fair, it's the first time I've seen her dink this much, too. From my blurry recollection of yesterday evening, she emptied quite a few bottles of wine. I didn't count, but the pile at her feet was, let's say, impressive.
"How many times did you throw up this morning?" Jordan asks mercilessly.
"Dunno, didn't count," she whines.
"Did you learn the lesson?" Jordan doesn't let go of the matter.
"Nah." Eve tilts her head to offer a shit-eating grin. Guess you can't change her. "It's just a bit of puking. It won't kill me, even if it tastes nasty."
That should be more than enough to deter you from drinking like there's no tomorrow!
"Anyway!" She shifts her attention to Jonathan. "Why are you in such a bad mood, sweetie?"
"Are you really asking?" The vampire snorts. "You two put me up to play bait!"
The vampire's angry voice snatches me from my stupor—ah, I think there's jam everywhere on my chin now. Well, whatever. Looks like demons aren't completely immunized to hangovers. I thought most of them were, especially the old ones. Sigh. When will I learn not to trust the hunters' archives, huh?
"And you were scolding me just yesterday!" Jonathan accuses with a snort.
"This time, it's different." Jordan arches an eyebrow. I observe the back and forth between the trio, chewing on my toast. Stomach seems to be in a cooperative mood. Good. "Bryan will be supervising you and James. And it's a long-term mission, so don't worry, you can sleep to your heart's content on benches, as long as it's in the target area. It's not like you have anything better to do right now, and you're living rent-free under my roof, so how about making yourself useful, hm?"
So, nothing happened last night? The thought crosses my mind as relief washes over my body, and Jonathan responds with a wronged face. I can help but shake my head. Today is the first day of the year. Revival ceremonies must be done on the eve of a new cycle, and never after. Lyon seemed to be working with my brother, so he'd have reported any noticeable changes in his clan or his people if there'd been any. His blood would've also reacted right away if one of his old ancestors had been brought back to life, after all.
For now, we're safe. Well. Until the winter solstice, that is.
In short, we have about twenty days to find these lunatics.
On the one hand, I hold no doubt Bryan and his team are going to investigate every nook and cranny. But on the other, it's better to stack up the odds in our favor. Lycans are known to never let go of their prey, and since Jonathan and James have escaped their claws, they're going to pursue them the moment they pick up their scents. These guys have a sharp nose. So, the point is to dangle a bait in areas where one of the culprits behind our kidnapping is most likely to frequent. I've given a detailed report of their appearances, and Lyon should be able to—!
Uh, wait a second.
"Jordan." I cut off the squabbling between him and Jonathan. "Did you perhaps also sign me up to play bait?"
"I didn't sign you up." He smiles gently. "You offered it yourself."
Pal, ever heard of "informed consent"? I was drunk out of my mind yesterday; it doesn't count!
But ultimately, that's the best move we can do. If I move around with James and Jonathan in tow, there's no way these prideful pricks would skip the opportunity to go after us. They're born hunters, and they'd rather die than give up on their prey, especially Alpha and Luna. Their predatory instincts tend to be on the higher spectrum, compared to the rest of their brethren.
It's surprising, though, that Jordan would allow it.
Pain shoots through my left temple and my brow creases. Some blurry images pop into my mind, alongside indistinct voices. "I'll be there." Was that Bryan? "I won't let it happen again, don't worry." And perhaps that was Jordan? I'm unsure which voice belongs to whom. Either way, they echo into my head, trying to split my skull open.
I take a deep breath. The pain's starting to fade.
"Alright." I can do nothing else but agree. Fighting on two fronts is our best course of action. I'd rather no other child go missing. But hopes are hopes, and I fear the news will be filled with disappearances until we get our hands on these fanatics. "When do we start parading around?"
What I get is a smile from my husband.
So we start today. Talk about a way to begin the year, uh?
"I've cleared up my schedule for December," Jordan says, unbothered by the death glare from Jonathan. "To make it less apparent we're out baiting them, I thought that we might as well enjoy ourselves with some family outing before getting separated for a reason or another."
That's… That's not a bad idea, to be honest.
We've just been kidnapped, and logically speaking, we should be slightly traumatized by the ordeal, or at least be on our guard, and avoid moving around on our own. Or maybe not. Normal people usually get a little put off by this kind of event, but the lycans known I'm not your everyday human, thanks to the little exchange we had.
It shouldn't be too strange for me to be up and about barely two days later.
Still, it'd seem less out of place if I move around with someone else, just in case. It won't prevent them from stalking us and wait for the perfect time to ambush, anyway. They're as impulsive as they're patient when it comes to hunting.
Well, then, let's see whose hunt's going to succeed first.