Lucky Break Read Online Free PDF Page B

honor—at the feet of the Clan’s master—or prostration.
    â€œI’ll prepare the blood,” Astrid said and, at Nessa’s nod of approval, disappeared into the kitchen.
    â€œAre there are any developments?” Vincent asked, his roving gaze on Nessa.
    She shook her head. “They’re taking Taran to the morgue for an autopsy. They’re nearly done at the house, but . . .” She looked at Vincent. “I don’t want to go back there. Not now.”
    Vincent smiled, patted her hand. “You’ll come home with us.”
    â€œI don’t want to impose—,” she began, but he cut her off with a nod.
    â€œNonsense. It is your home. Or one of them, at any rate.”
    Nessa nodded, her eyes filling again, and let Vincent wrap her in his arms again. She nestled against him and wept quietly.
    â€œYou have a house?” Ethan asked.
    Vincent’s smile was quick. “Not of the scale or scope of an official House,” he said. “Nothing like your Cadogan. But it is ours, and it is home.”
    Astrid walked back into the room with a tray of six glasses of blood. She walked to Ethan first, bowed to lower the tray to him. “Sire.”
    Ethan took a glass, glanced at Vincent.
    â€œIt is a traditional welcome for our Clan,” he said, gesturing for Ethan to drink.
    I could see that Ethan was hesitant to drink something prepared at the behest of a man he wasn’t certain was a friend or enemy—but he knew diplomacy and took a drink before raising his glass. “Thank you.”
    â€œThank you,” Vincent said. “And welcome. It isn’t often that we find Masters in our midst.” He took the next glass Astrid offered, and the remaining glasses were distributed to the rest of us.
    I took a small sip, tasted cinnamon, clove. The kind of blood a vampire might drink warm on a long and cold winter night in the mountains. Odd, but comforting.
    Ethan drained his glass, set it aside. “Very nice,” he said. “Tell us about the feud.”
    â€œLet me start at the beginning,” Vincent said. “The beginning of the Clan. I was born in Vienne in France. Made in Savannah in 1779.”
    â€œDuring the Revolutionary War,” I noted, and Vincent nodded.
    â€œI lived in Savannah for many years. Drifted, in time, to Atlanta. That’s where I met Christophe. He had come to America after losing his family in Europe, had become a vampire in a very violent encounter. He was searching for something more, something new. I felt similarly. Three of the American Houses had been set up by then, but I did not feel myself in any of them.”
    Cadogan was the fourth House, established in 1883. So he hadn’t yet had an opportunity to be impressed by us.
    â€œWe met a third, Bernard. When Atlanta fell, we decided to travel west, to look for new beginnings.”
    â€œAnd you settled here in the valley,” Ethan said.
    Vincent nodded, lifted his gaze to the windows behind us and the valley beyond it. “There were stops along the way, a summer here, a winter there. But when we reached the valley, for all its beauty, we knew we had found our home. It was empty of people. Travel in the winter is difficult,” he explained. “There’s one narrow pass through the mountains, and it’s treacherous enough even in the best of weather. We lived peacefully, here in the quiet, for many years.”
    He hadn’t yet mentioned the shifters who’d presumably also resided here, but I opted to let him tell the story at his own pace.
    â€œAs time passed, we gave shelter to a traveler or two, and word spread. Vampires who, like us, were looking for something different, for a different kind of solidarity, came here. They sought freedom over allegiance,” he said, with a glance at Ethan. A less than subtle dig, I supposed, at Cadogan Novitiates’ expected allegiance to the House.
    â€œThey joined