Chapter 42: How Hard Could It Be?
It had been a week since the confrontation at his old apartment.
The past days had been a beautiful mix of relaxation and tension. Gen had been sharing his bed, their nights filled with intense lovemaking and comforting warmth. Olivia, on the other hand, had been busy, often leaving for long stretches and returning with a weary but determined look in her eyes.
Ezra had managed to get some cash from Olivia, enough to pay off the monthly portion of his debt. It had felt good to do that.
He had also taken to stalking a few Black Axe gang members, gathering snippets of information. Olivia had insisted he did that as another bunch of tests. The most alarming news he'd found from them was that Hadron Kane was out for his blood, nursing a grudge that seemed to grow with each passing day.
Ezra sighed in satisfaction as he drove his old hovercar to Count Griffin's sanctuary. I never knew I would enjoy being a vampire this much.
He parked his car outside the Star Heights hotel, the building looming above him. The hotel was a blend of modern luxury and old-world charm. Now that he thought about it, it was a bit obvious that the hotel belonged to a vampire. They love making everything old for no reason.
Ezra took a deep breath and made his way inside, navigating the corridors that led to Count Griffin's throne room. He'd been here only once before but he remembered the route.
In the entrance hall of the throne room, he met Gen and Olivia. Gen's eyes lit up when she saw him, while Olivia's gaze was more critical.
"You're late," Olivia remarked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
Ezra shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, got held up."
Before they could say more, the door to the throne room opened, and a figure walked out. If Ezra's heart was still beating, it would have skipped a beat as he recognized the vampire.
Malachi of Solomon County.
Malachi stood, short as ever and radiating an aura of hostility. Dressed in his customary black trench coat, his bowler hat sat on his head, casting unnaturally deep shadows on his face that revealed only his glowing red eyes.
Everyone in the room froze, tension crackling in the air. Gen and Olivia tensed, ready for a potential battle. Only Ezra stood casually with his hands in his pockets, smirking at Malachi. "Hi Malachi. How have you been? We didn't get a chance to finish our conversation, did we?"
Even though Ezra was relaxed for the world to see, he could feel his own muscles tightening, his senses sharpening as he prepared for whatever might come next. He wasn't an idiot. He was confident in his ability to defeat Malachi but he also knew how deadly overconfidence could be.
Malachi's eyes swept over them, lingering on Ezra with a look that was both calculating and unsettling. Ezra remembered their previous encounter, the fight that had nearly cost him his life.
For a moment, the room was silent, everyone poised on a knife's edge. Then, without a word, Malachi turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall. The tension lingered, but the immediate threat had passed.
Ezra let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Gen relaxed slightly, but her eyes remained wary. Olivia watched Malachi's retreating figure until he disappeared from sight.
"That was close," Gen muttered, her voice low.
"Yes. But more importantly, what was he doing here?" Olivia nodded, her expression grim. "Whatever it is, we need to be careful. Malachi won't give up easily."
Ezra nodded in agreement. He knew guys like Malachi. They lay low and leave you alone but they never really forget about you. And when the opportunity comes, they'll be there like hyenas over a carcass, tearing you to pieces.
The assistant invited them in, and they entered the throne room. As Ezra stepped inside, he took a moment to observe Count Griffin more closely. Last time he'd been here, he'd had other things on his mind.
Griffin had the look of an older man, his hair streaked with grey that gave him a distinguished appearance. He was dressed in a sharp suit, giving him the look of a particular handsome politician. He sat with his usual air of relaxed confidence, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched them approach.
"Welcome, Matten coven," Griffin greeted them, his voice voice mechanical and almost monotonous.
Ezra, Olivia, and Gen stood before him, their expressions attentive. Griffin's eyes lingered on Ezra for a moment longer before he spoke again. "Do you young ones happen to know why Count Solomon is willing to part with a large sum of money and influence to get me to hand Ezra over to him?"
A ripple of shock passed through the trio. Olivia remained stoic, shaking her head. "No, we do not."
A large sum of money and influence? Ezra tried to keep his thoughts off his face as he watched Griffin, alert. And what was your response? Will you try to hand us over to Solomon?
Griffin leaned back in his throne, his fingers steepled together as he mused aloud. "Interesting. It makes one wonder what exactly he wants with you, Ezra."
The room was silent as Griffin pondered. After a few moments, he seemed to set aside his speculation and focused on them once more. "Regardless, it is a matter for another time."
Griffin straightened, his demeanor becoming more formal. "As you know, all covens are under the responsibility of their Counts. As your Count, you are my responsibility. Normally, I would grant you a venture under my purview to manage, but recent events demand a different approach."
Ezra felt a chill run down his spine. Is this your way of saying that you're selling us out?
Griffin continued, "Have you heard that First City will be getting a new Count?"
Ezra paused. How could he forget? That had been the first conversation he'd heard as a new vampire. Olivia and Gen had been discussing aligning with this new vampire. The three exchanged uncertain glances. "Yes, we've heard," Olivia replied.
"Due to certain circumstances," Griffin explained, "it has fallen to me to clean up the new Count's territory in preparation for his arrival. Currently, this territory is occupied by two rival gangs."
"Matten Coven. Here is your punishment! You are to unite these gangs into one and secure the territory for the new Count to take over."
Ezra almost sighed in relief. How hard could it be?
"And the punishment for failure...is death."