No. Roff sent them yesterday. When he still recalled who you were. Now he has no memory of you again.
"Fuck," I muttered, causing everyone at the breakfast table to look up.
"What’s wrong?" Winkler asked.
"Radomir’s blood didn’t help Roff’s memory. He’s back where he was when he first woke as vampire. He has no idea who I am. Again." I tossed my napkin onto half-eaten food. Rolfe had kept Giff away from breakfast with all of us—she’d been very upset over Roff’s wounding the day before. The baby would come soon, too; her baby pouch was getting larger every day. I was glad she didn’t have this information to add to the stress she was already experiencing. As for me—I wanted to weep. Roff had sent me flowers the day before, which might have meant something. Today, he didn’t know me again.
"Grant, where’s Toff?" I asked. Giff didn’t need to worry about Toff right now.
"He’s in my office—Heathe and Davan are babysitting until I get back. Rolfe dropped him off this morning after Giff fed him. Why?"
"I’m going to adopt Toff, that’s why," I rose from the table. "Roff may never remember either of us, and it’s already done enough damage to Giff. Get the paperwork started. We’ll work this out."
"Lissa, before you go," Erland held out a hand and a thick, creamy white envelope appeared in it. "Your grandfather sends this, with his regards."
"What is it?" I asked. Erland floated the envelope to me—it bore the crest of the King of Karathia—my grandfather, Wylend Arden. I slipped the note from the envelope to read. It was an invitation to the hundred-year ball at Wylend's palace, held, of course, every hundred years. Well, that beat the vampires' annual meeting all to heck. Only having to get dressed up every hundred years? That sounded great. I was invited to attend—with Erland, of course. Only those with Karathian blood, plus their mates and young children were allowed.
"It's not an invitation, it's more of a demand," Erland was now smiling over my shoulder as he read it.
"You're saying it's a hostage situation?" I asked.
"Well, everything but," Erland let his chin drop to my shoulder, and he kissed it while he was there. "The children are expected, too, you know."
"So Daddy and Amara will bring Wyatt?"
"I think so," Erland said, allowing his mouth to travel to my neck.
"Erland, do not give me a hickey," I tried to swat him away. The ball was to be held in three weeks.
"I'll find something for you to wear, my darling, and we'll dance in your grandfather’s ballroom." Erland tilted my chin up and gave me a blinding smile. I realized he was doing his best to take my mind off Roff.
"Want to come to the dungeon with me to visit my prisoners?" I asked. Yeah, I was blaming Roff's second memory loss on those ass**les. It probably wasn't good to see them while I was so angry, but I was determined to go anyway.
"Nothing would make me happier, my love," Erland assured me.
* * *
Gavin, Tony, Erland, Winkler, Drake, Drew and Aryn were in the dungeon with me as I stood outside a cell that held three vampires. While most dungeons might be dark, leaky pits filled with rats and other vermin, mine was clean, well-lit and held cells strong enough to imprison vampires.
The three vampires held inside this cell were former Council members, AKA the ringleader ass**les—the ones who'd volunteered to recruit others Council members to help the twenty-seven married ass**les. They'd been more than happy to cause murder and mayhem. Already the Alliance media was calling the brief uprising The Fang Rebellion, and the increase in tourist requests to visit the palace (to see the Council chambers) had quadrupled.
"Did you really think you'd get out alive?" I stared at the three.
"Did you think to force us to part with our possessions?" one of them hissed.
"Possessions? What the f**k are you saying?" I stared at him incredulously. "You're only three hundred years old, for Pete's sake, and you didn't have a mate in all that. Slavery was outlawed long ago. I know you're from Driskilhin," I held up a hand before he could protest. "Even though your papers say you're from Trell," I added.
"I spent some time on Trell," he insisted. He was proud of his vampirism, I could tell, and flaunted his appearance as well as he could. Well, a nice face and fancy clothes weren't going to help him now.
"I don't care if you spent time on a pig's ass," I snapped. "You'll die, just like your friends, there." I nodded to the other two, who were older and knew to shut the hell up.
"Without a trial?" he sneered.
"Oh, you'll have a trial," I assured him. "I have messages from more than ninety percent of the remaining Council members, asking for your immediate execution. I assured them that we'd put you on trial, first." The most vehement message had come from Susila, our only female Council member. She and Oluwa had fought off a couple of rogues. I'm sure the rogues would be impressed with Susila's fighting skills—if they were still alive.
"You only have sixty-two Council members left," he laughed.
"Yeah. Those still alive are the ones with the most fighting experience. Too bad you thought they were all soft." Suffice to say, all of Earth's former Council members had sailed through the fray with flying colors, and with Radomir and Winkler helping, it hadn't taken long to take down the brief rebellion.
Sadly, Roff had no fighting experience and he'd suffered. He needed to get his fighting lessons from Gavin and Tony, and he needed to get them soon. I never wanted to see my winged vampire bleeding again. Not ever. I didn't care whether he remembered me or not—I still loved him.
"I wanted to see you die," the vampire interrupted my silence. "A King belongs on the throne of Le-Ath Veronis. Not some weak female."
"Aaand the misogyny comes out," I muttered.
"I can dispatch him now," Erland offered. He'd stood beside me, listening to the exchange in silence until now. Well, he probably had a spell or two up his sleeve and was itching to exercise a little power. "You'll be a pile of ash this big when I'm finished with you," Erland formed a small circle with his hands.
"Fucking Warlock," the vampire hurled his body against the bars of his cell. Erland didn't even flinch. Damn, that Warlock wasn't just a handsome face after all.
"Do that again and you'll be less than ash," Erland snapped. "You've had your say. I'll enjoy watching you die."