It was a small sound that woke Corbin up. Any human who had sharp enough ears would have dismissed the noise as the room settling, but Corbin heard something entirely different. Easing out of bed, he grabbed his boxers off the floor, slipped them on, and quietly left the room. Autumn slept, blissfully unaware that something was amiss.

Corbin stalked through the suite, every sense on high alert. He was generally non-confrontational, but if anyone came after his family or staff with ill intentions, they were going to regret their life choices. He started by the window, flicking the curtains aside to check for anyone playing a deadly game of hide-and-seek, but found no one. As he turned towards the terrace, a large object on the piano caught his attention.

That wasn't there before ...

Corbin walked around the piano and leaned down to inspect the item. It was a massive bouquet of roses, tulips, and lilies, stuffed into the back of a white wicker basket that was practically overflowing with chocolate, wine, cheese, crackers, and fresh fruit.

What's this ...? Corbin reached out and plucked two cards from the arrangement. The first one, a small ivory index card, simply read "Congratulations". The second one was sealed in a red envelope labeled "Invitation".

"Corbin?"

Corbin looked up, his finger stuck in the corner of the red envelope, ready to rip it open. Autumn stood in the open bedroom door, tying a thin hotel bathrobe around her waist.

"How the hell did that get in here?" she exclaimed, padding across the room to stand beside him. She reached out and plucked a bright red apple from the basket and turned it around in her hands as if that would provide some clue. But Corbin already had a good idea of who sent the basket; the black wax seal gave it away.

"They have their ways," he replied, cracking the seal. Bits of dried black wax bounced off the piano and onto the floor.

"Who?" Autumn asked, then she took a small step back, realization dawning in her eyes. "Is this from your master?"

"Yes," Corbin answered, drawing out a single sheet of heavy cardstock.

"May I?"

Corbin passed the note to his wife, having already read the first two lines. His lips pressed into a thin line, thoughts racing.

Autumn walked over to one of the table lamps and flicked it on. " 'Your presence has been requested by the Council. A car will be waiting for you at the hotel at 7:00 AM and bring you to the Colosseum.' Corbin," she whispered, eyes widening, "what does this mean? Are they turning me into a servant today?"

Servants were humans who had nearly the same abilities as vampires: strength, speed, and immortality, but without the craving for blood and the ability to heal. Any time a vampire wanted to make a servant, the request had to be approved by one's master. Corbin had put Autumn's application in at the same time he informed his master of his intention to marry her. He did the same thing for Jordyn, should his daughter desire it.

"No, I don't think so," Corbin told her, randomly poking through the basket. The reason he knew that was because regular vampires were allowed to change humans into servants. But he couldn't tell Autumn that yet.

Autumn looked up at him. "Then what is it?"

"I don't know." Corbin grit his teeth, wracking his brain for a logical reason for this summons, but nothing came to mind. His master was thousands of years old—who knew how an ancient being processed the world?

Shaking her head, Autumn took a deep breath and put the card down on the table. Corbin looked at her pale, drawn face and went to put his arms around her. "We should go back to bed and try to get some sleep," he suggested, pressing his lips to her hair.

"I don't think I can sleep after this."

"I know," he murmured, at a loss. From the start, he had promised Autumn that he would always look out for her and Jordyn. But this was the one thing he couldn't shield her from and it burned him to admit it. "But you should at least try."

Autumn nodded, eyebrows drawing together in thought as she walked out of his arms and back to the bedroom. Corbin glanced over his shoulder at the basket and sighed. Whatever his master wanted, he prayed that it was simple.

------------

Corbin stared at the ceiling for the better part of four hours with Autumn curled against his side, face buried against his shoulder. Somewhere between three and four in the morning, she fell asleep and he was grateful that she could get at least some rest. With his vampiric endurance, losing a few hours wouldn't hurt him as much as it would her.

When the alarm blared out that it was time to get up, Autumn groaned and rolled over, slipping out of bed to stumble towards the bathroom. Corbin watched her long enough to ensure she didn't fall before rising and making his way to the kitchenette. Opening the fridge, he grabbed a tall black container labeled with a drop of blood and went to find a mug. As he waited for the horse blood to heat up on the stove, he decided to grab an apple from the basket to snack on. It was nothing in comparison to his wife's cinnamon rolls, but Corbin was certain if they didn't eat some of the food, his master would find out and take offense.

And an offended master was practically a death sentence.

By the time he was finished with his meager breakfast, Autumn was out of the bathroom and rummaging around in one of her suitcases.

"Be sure to eat something," he said as he passed her on the way to the bathroom. By the time he got out and was dressed, Autumn was sitting at the small table by the bay window. A mug of tea and a half-eaten muffin lay in front of her. She wore a dress similar to the one from yesterday but in blue and her chestnut hair was tied up in a damp ponytail.

"I can't eat anymore," she admitted, taking a weak sip of tea.

His wife was a strong, independent, determined woman who had raised their daughter as a single mother for sixteen years. She was the owner of a successful bakery and prided herself on her work ethic. Hell, she'd even taken the reveal of his true nature with relative ease. It pained Corbin deeply to see her like this.

"Then don't," he said, pushing the muffin out of the way. "But we'll take a few things with us just in case."

"Okay." She drained her tea and stood up, flashing him a wan smile. God, he was never more proud of his wife than now.

By the time they walked outside, a sleek black limo was waiting for them. "Good morning, Mr and Mrs Westbrook," the man greeted, opening the back door. A small lapel pin identified the driver as the master's personal servant. Corbin nodded and climbed into the car, holding Autumn's hand as she settled beside him.

Halfway to the Colosseum, Autumn began munching on one of the muffins she'd brought and had finished a second when they pulled up to the gates.

"I think that second muffin was a bad idea," she muttered, taking a large sip of water.

Corbin squeezed her hand and looked out the window. Tourists were already gathering in groups beneath little pennants, waiting to get into the historic landmark.

The limo stopped and someone else opened the door. "Mr and Mrs Westbrook," the non-descript servant greeted. "Please, follow me."

Brushing crumbs off her skirt, Autumn got out first, followed by Corbin. The warm Italian sun beat down on them as they were led past the Colosseum's security and into the massive complex itself. Corbin sighed as the servant walked straight towards a darkened archway at a smart pace; this was one of the places where he had wanted to visit and now he was being dragged past some of the most important architecture in the ancient world. This sucked, as Jordyn would say.

"Where are we going?" Autumn asked, voice echoing off the stone walls.

"To see the masters, Mrs Westbrook," the servant replied evenly.

Masters? Plural?

Autumn glanced back at Corbin, eyebrows raised. He was equally shocked. Never in his long life had he ever seen the other masters—let alone all of them together. Dear God, how serious was this?

The servant led them through tunnel after tunnel, each one lit by a series of torches that cast strange shadows on the walls. At last, after what seemed like an hour of walking, the tunnel they were currently in opened up into a large, oval room.

"Wait here, please," the servant said, gesturing for the two of them to stand by the tunnel. Leaving them there, he walked across the room and disappeared behind a massive tapestry depicting a medieval hunting scene that hung in the back. It looked remarkably similar to the Bayeux Tapestry from William the Conqueror's time.

"Corbin," Autumn whispered, pressing close and gripping his arm, "where the hell are we?"

Corbin looked around, taking in the rich decorations in red and gold, the plush carpets, statues and artifacts from antiquity, and large sconces. There was enough opulence in this one room to put the Vatican to shame.

And that was no small feat. He'd visited once, back in the early 1900s, and was amazed by the sheer display of wealth.

"A throne room," he replied, pitching his voice low as he stared at the twelve thrones arranged in front of the tapestry.

Suddenly, the lights flickered. Autumn screamed and grabbed his arm tightly with both hands. Corbin immediately swung around, pressing her against the wall, shielding her with his own body.

"Corbin Westbrook."

There was no voice like that in the world—soft, genderless, ancient. Corbin slowly turned to see that each of the thrones was now occupied.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

"Master," he said, bowing his head respectfully.

Against him, Autumn moved. Corbin shifted, allowing her to turn around. A small gasp left her lips and she clamped both hands over her mouth. Corbin held her close, remembering his own reaction to seeing his master for the first time: a mixture of terror and awe.

The small creature in the center of the room inclined their head. "Autumn Milford Westbrook, welcome. Congratulations on your nuptials."

"Th-thank you," Autumn stammered, visibly shaking. Corbin tightened his arm around her shoulders.

"And on the future addition to your family."

Corbin looked up sharply. "I—what?"

The master gestured idly with one tiny grey hand. "Your wife is pregnant."