Reluctant Storm by P.A. Warren Page A

quiet in the room and the only noise is the crinkling of paper and the fireplace crackling as wood pops with heat.
    He looks at me as he finishes signing off on a paper and puts it aside, steepling his fingers under his chin, acknowledging my presence. The irony isn’t lost on me. He needs me as an integral part of his fight for the Vampire Kingdom, and yet he doesn’t think I’m worthy to be his son.
    “How is she doing?” he quietly asks as he puts the papers in a drawer. I swallow any doubt I have and walk over to the liquor cabinet and pour a glass of bourbon. I smile as I take a sip, only to see him smirking at me.
    “Is it really necessary to drink this early?”
    “I’m a vampire. Time doesn’t really matter to me anymore…hasn’t since I turned, but then you should know that.”
    “You are so like your mother, disgraceful. She was nothing but a whore,” he responds sharply.
    I ignore him and the twinge that hits me every single time he says this to me. I drain the glass, looking at him over the rim. “I’m going to need full access to her twenty-four/seven with no interruptions from you or the guards. You cannot go in there and neither can the guards. It will mess up everything I’ve been working on with her.”
    “She needs to be broken that bad, eh son?”
    Nodding carefully, I look up at him insolently as I grip the glass firmly. “She’s a tough one to break, Sir.”
    “Well, you know who her grandmother was right?”
    I shake my head and sit, placing my glass on my leg and letting my fingers circle over the rim.
    “Her grandmother was the great Augustine,” he says sarcastically.
    I instantly stop the circular motion with my hand and listen to him ramble on about Augustine. She is one of the great few Vampire Witches. It’s said she single-handedly stopped a vampire war on the humans in 1654 and has been called for every conflict from then on.
    “Well, that’s interesting to know,” I abruptly stand. “Oh, and by the way, I borrowed one of the blood whores and ended up taking too much from her, so you’re one short.”
    Not caring, I throw the rest of my liquor in the fireplace and get a glimmer of satisfaction when I watch the fire shoot up. I set my glass on the table and nonchalantly walk out of his office and towards my room as if I wasn’t planning on backstabbing the man that made me into the evil uncaring person I am today. Picking up my phone, I dial the number of a friend who I know can help me, Mikail Tsarev. He’s a contract killer who’s worked for us before. I’ve had his back many times, and it’s time for me to call in that favor he owes me.
    I listen to the phone ring and impatiently slam my fist into the wall, leaving a hole there. Shards of sheet rock litter the floor, but whatever, it’s a wall it can be replaced. After the eighth ring, he finally picks up the phone.
    “What the hell took you so long to answer your phone?”
    “Dude, I’m driving. Take a chill pill,” he says.
    “I’m calling in that favor you owe me.” I sit on the bed pulling at a random blue string on the comforter.
    Scoffing, Mikail laughs, “How do I owe you a favor?”
    “How soon you forget the Audra incident.”
    “Dude, I told you never to bring her name up again.”
    “I never told anyone what she did to you, or how she left you handcuffed naked to the bed with a pair of her—”
    “Okay, okay, I get it. What exactly do you need?”
    Calming down the urge to laugh, I throw the blackmail pictures that I took before uncuffing him from the bed into the fire, staring as the flames destroy them. “I need a safe place to hide with a girl, a girl that my father took prisoner, and one that I’m trying to keep safe.”
    “No shit, your dad kidnapped a girl?” he asks curiously.
    “Yep.”
    “So the awesome Riley Dumont actually had to call me for help? Today’s my lucky day,” he says sarcastically.
    “Why exactly are you doing all this for a girl?”
    I ignore his last