Rhea raised a brow. “Since when do you ever listen when someone tells you no?”
I flopped back against the back of my chair and crossed my arms. “I don’t even know where to find him.”
“We found him once,” Giguhl said.
“It’s true,” Adam said, shooting me an apologetic look.
“Sabina,” Rhea said, “I want you to listen to me. I don’t care what Tristan said. I believe in my bones, right down to the marrow, that you are the Chosen. But even if Tristan is right and you’re not, there is no one else on this planet who I would trust to deal with Cain more than you and Adam and Giguhl. Forget the question about the Chosen and focus on the mission: Stop Cain.”
I swallowed hard. She was right. I let my emotional reaction to Tristan’s rejection muddy the waters. Renewed determination had me clenching my fists. “Okay, you’re all right. Of course we won’t give up.”
“That’s my girl,” Adam said, rubbing my back.
Rhea winked at me. “I know you’ll give ’im hell.”
“Sure. Just have to find him first.”
“In the meantime, I suggest you help Alexis locate Persephone.”
“Is it really that important now?” Adam asked. “After all, she clearly doesn’t want to return. And if we don’t stop Cain, it won’t matter who’s in charge of the vampire race—or any race for that matter.”
The Queen’s cane banged against the floor. “Of course it matters.”
Rhea grimaced. “She’s right. There’s been some… developments on the vampire front.”
“Uh-oh,” Giguhl said. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“While we were waiting on word from you about the meeting, we asked Slade to inform the Undercouncil about recent developments,” the Queen said. “We figured if Persephone ultimately couldn’t be convinced, we needed to prepare for next steps.”
“Meaning, finding a suitable replacement?” Alexis asked.
Rhea and the Queen nodded.
“I don’t understand,” Adam said. “Doesn’t the vampire government have some sort of succession rules in place in case something like this happens?”
Rhea shook her head. “It’s confusing because once Tanith took over, she changed the system. Used to be there were three Dominae and if one of them died, the position would pass to the highest-ranking blood relative from the pool of Dominae offspring. But once Tanith made herself Despina, she became the sole leader. Since she didn’t have any children, her new law was going to allow the vampires to vote on her successor in a general election.”
This news shocked me. I’d never really bought Tanith’s claims about wanting to form a more democratic vampire government. Guess I should have given her more credit. “That’s surprising, but good, right?”
“It would have been positive”—Rhea grimaced—“if the Undercouncil had ever ratified the changes before she died. She fast-tracked being named Despina, but all the other legal amendments were delayed until after she could get the treaty signed. But of course that never happened.”
My stomach clenched. “Wait,” I said. “Are you saying that the lines of succession are still on the books?”
The Queen nodded and watched me carefully.
“Does Persephone have any children?” Adam asked, his voice rising.
“There were rumors of a daughter, but as far as I know, they were just gossip,” Alexis said. “Sabina, do you know anything about that?”
All the blood left my face. “I heard the rumors, but as far as I knew, Lavinia forbade the other Domina from reproducing. She didn’t want to chance one of them overthrowing her and sticking their own offspring in her place.”
“She could do that?” Rhea frowned.
I tilted my head and raised a brow. “Please. This was Lavinia Kane we’re talking about.”
“Right,” Rhea said with a sigh.
“So that means Lavinia was the only Domina with a bloodline to pull from?” Alexis asked, shooting me a speculative glance.
“As far as we know.” Rhea shot me an apologetic look.
Giguhl put a claw on my shoulder. “Does this mean we have to call you Domina now?”
Adam watched me like one would watch a timer on a bundle of explosives. They all did. But I was too shocked to react at first. I froze to the spot, as if not moving might somehow make the moment not real.
“Sabina?” Adam whispered. “You okay?”
I didn’t answer. On some level, one so deep that I wasn’t anywhere close to enjoying it, the irony of the situation was somewhat amusing. But the truth was, I was so busy scrambling to figure a way out of this that I didn’t have the ability to find anything funny. It was too ridiculous to even contemplate.
Even if I wanted the position, which I absolutely did not, the mere idea that the vampire race would accept a half-breed as their leader wasn’t funny at all—it was deadly. Especially since besides being a mixed-blood, I also used to make my living killing vampires who pissed off the Dominae. Vampires would be lining up to assassinate me if I was crazy enough to consider taking over the race.
“Okay,” I said finally, “clearly I am not about to step up and claim my birthright. Which means our only option is to put the full-court press on Persephone until she agrees to return.”
Adam had remained silent until that point. But the instant I confirmed I had no interest in pursuing taking over the vamps, he visibly relaxed. “Thank the gods.”
My mouth fell open in shock. “I can’t believe you thought I’d actually do it.”
He shrugged. “Well, you were about to accept the role as vampire governor in New York.”
Alexis made a sound with her throat that sounded suspiciously like “bitch.”
Ugh. I’d forgotten about that. Tanith and Orpheus had ripped control of New York’s vamps away from Slade and offered me the position. Alexis had wanted the job and had been furious when Tanith offered it to me instead. “Tanith was trying to force me into that role right before she was murdered. I told her I didn’t want any part of it.”
“Really?” Adam asked.
“Right,” Alexis said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She’d been excused from the room before I’d given the Despina and Orpheus my answer.
I crossed my arms. “You can ask Giguhl. He was there.”