Syn

"Drake?" Queen asked again, her voice sounding just as confused as it did the first time I told her. "I don't get it. The man is crazy but I don't see what he'd get out of killing so many people...just to get back at you? That's weird."

"It is weird," I replied, looking down at her. "But it can't be a coincidence that of all the people to name, Aiden names the man who hates my guts- he has a motive, but Aiden doesn't. He makes sense for this. The man's been trying to bring me down for almost two years now. We're going to go visit him. Either way, he's not innocent in this. We'll get answers one way or another."

She nodded and I cupped her cheek, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Are you sure I shouldn't come with you guys?"

"Absolutely not," I said. It was bad enough that Paris and I were jumping into this shit head first, I didn't need Queen in danger too. "The man is unpredictable. I'd feel much better knowing that you're safe here if things go left. Besides, someone needs to be here to make sure Aiden stays put."

She placed a kiss on my palm and sighed. "Please be careful. If anything goes wrong just let me know—cut a message or something into your arm, anything." I sighed as she referred to our bond, a reminder that if I got hurt tonight, I wouldn't be the only one who felt it.

I'm fucking stupid.

"I will be fine," I assured her, trying to erase the negative thoughts from her head and mine. My words didn't relax her in the slightest as she remained tense and I sighed, pulling her into my arms. "Relax. If something goes wrong, I promise I'll send a message. I swear."

She softened a bit in my arms and I buried my face into her hair, breathing in her sweet smell. I heard Paris walk back into the living room and I nodded at him. He nodded in return, a silent exchange passing between us as I begrudgingly pulled away from Queen. "We're leaving now. Lock the doors, don't open—"

"Syn, please." She smiled. "I'm not a child, I know the whole talk. I'll be okay. Worry about yourself, I'm a big girl. I won't die if I'm home alone for a couple of hours." She squeezed my hand and I squeezed it back before letting go and tucking my hands into my jeans.

"Okay." I leaned in for another kiss and she returned it with a smile before pushing me away playfully.

"Go." She crossed her arms.

I smiled. "I'll see you later."

"Later, then."

꧁꧂

Paris and I stepped out of the portal, a low crunch sounding as our feet landed on the scattered leaves on the cobblestone driveway. I had been throughout Juva for most of my life and most of it was a city- skyscrapers and buildings lining the streets for millions of miles upon end. The city was a technological kaleidoscope of modern design- there were hardly any trees anywhere in sight. Drake must've paid a fortune for this place- it had to be the last of its kind in this realm.

The mansion was hidden within the forested area on the border of the city- you couldn't have ended up here unless you knew exactly where to go. The roads stopped a mile back- the colorful lights and buildings in the city were like a maze, keeping most citizens from driving too far in any one direction. Everyone was satisfied with that as everything they needed was within a reasonable distance.

Everyone except drake it seemed. If peace was what he was looking for, perhaps he should've resided in a realm not known for its party life.

"It's kind of a dick move, isn't it?" Paris spoke, his arms crossed as he tilted his head toward the house. "Keeping all this land to himself and refusing to sell knowing that it could house thousands of people."

I tilted my head in thought. He was right, but I knew long before this that Drake was an ass. He probably kept the land and remained stern on not renovating to maintain a semblance of his fleeting control. His fucking loss though, this place stood out like a sore fucking thumb. It reminded me of the Grinch's lair on top of that damn mountain overlooking Whoville.

I shook my head, pushing away my judgments, and stepped toward the large iron gates- ignoring the call button on the far left of the gate. With a strong push, the gates budged inward with a deafening creak and I stepped into his property, Paris following close behind me. It wasn't like we were breaking in, Drake knew we were coming. I figured he'd been begging for a conversation with me all this time...so why go in guns blazing when I could arrive under false pretenses?

We continued the long walk to his dark porch and when I reached the front door, I pressed the doorbell one too many times. If it were anyone else I'd worry that this was some trap and I should've brought some reinforcement, but the guy wasn't an idiot. I knew that. If he wanted to kill me without facing death from our counsel, he'd have to be a million times more calculated than this. I, on the other hand, could do with him as I pleased. Sure, I'd get some heat but I was the fucking King. What could they do?

The only person making grave mistakes tonight was him- his first being letting me know where he laid his head at night.

Paris and I glanced at one another as footsteps approached the door. We must've been thinking the same thing- the steps were too faint...they couldn't be a man's. Especially not Drake's, he was a tall guy. I crossed my arms, staring forward at the thick wooden door and Paris pulled out his gun, keeping it trained ahead.

The door swung open and our eyes landed on a naked blonde, her wide blue eyes stuck on the barrel of the gun in her face. Paris chuckled a bit, lowering his gun and I raised a brow at the girl. "We're here to see Drake."

"Oh." She nodded quickly, being careful to avoid meeting our eyes as she opened the door and stepped aside. I walked inside, my eyes roaming the place and being slightly thankful that the inside didn't look as wretched as the outside did. Drake made more than enough money to be slumming it. "H-he's in his study. Follow me."

She closed the front door and walked past us- leading us there yet in a way trying her best to get away. I felt eyes on me and glanced at the culprit. "Paris," I spoke. "What is it?"

"Just making sure you're not looking at the naked women in here," he said. "Queen wouldn't like that."

I scoffed. "I assure you that you being here to report back to her is not what's keeping me in line," I told him. "I don't see them."

I was being honest. Of course, I wasn't blind. There were naked women all over the place- their hungry eyes following us as we walked ahead...but they didn't do anything for me. None of the women were Queen. All they were, were smoky mirrors Drake was no doubt trying to use to distract us tonight.

The woman stopped walking- pointing at the double doors a few feet in front of us. "He's expecting you," she said.

"Perfect." I stepped past her. "Run along now." She scurried down the hall adjacent to the office and I pulled open the heavy walnut-colored doors. Drake looked up from his desk at our arrival and removed his glasses- setting them down on the desk as he leaned back into his chair. He wore a black satin robe, with red and gold designs on them and I cringed knowing that he probably wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"Your royal highness," he spoke, not even attempting to hide the bitter edge in his tone. "What brings you here?"

I stepped further into the room, looking around and nodding approvingly as I took in the decor of his office. It was better than the state of the rest of the house.

I ran my finger along the chair across his desk, eyeing my finger as it caught dust- I could tell he was alone in here most of the time. The seats looked brand new, unblemished as they sat on display yet the dust told me otherwise- they had been here a long time. If a housekeeper didn't even come in to dust, he must've enforced the highest level of privacy in here. That meant he had something he valued in here.

"Just wanted to ask you a few questions," I replied, wiping the dust off of my fingers.

He sighed. "As you wish. Have a seat."

I sat down in one of the chairs opposite the desk and Paris occupied the other. I watched Drake, letting my suspicion flow through my mind as I thought about what exactly I needed to say to him. I needed to choose my words wisely- he was impulsive.

"You're a fucking idiot," I told him. Subtle.

He sighed. "I'm going to need a drink if I want to survive a conversation with you. You're an insufferable turd, you know." He sighed as he stood up from his chair, walking toward a cart against the wall a few feet behind his desk. "Can I get you gentleman anything to drink?"

"Whiskey's fine," I muttered, busying myself with committing every detail of his office to memory.

"And you?" I heard him ask Paris.

"Nothing for me."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Suit yourself, your boss is a dick face," Drake replied. "I applaud you for being able to suffer through a conversation with him without being drunk."

"A dick-face...an insufferable turd," I repeated, turning my eyes back to his direction as he set the glass of whiskey in front of me. "You're getting more creative. Not to mention very mature."

"What the fuck do you want, Syn?" He plopped into his chair and leaned back, downing the liquor in his glass shot style.

"Haven't you wanted a meeting with me all this time?" I asked, grabbing the glass of whiskey from the table with my one and stirring it with my pointer finger.

"Yeah, but in my own time- when I knew I could kill you, not like this," he admitted.

"Then why extend the invitation..."

"You would've found some way into my home tonight anyway if I hadn't said yes," he said. "You're a pain in the ass like that. I would rather have you walk into here invited than hold a knife to my throat while I'm in bed— or a gun maybe?" He glanced at Paris. "Is he more of a gun guy?"

"Eh." Paris shrugged. "I'd say fifty-fifty."

"Hm." Drake shrugged. "Fair enough. Either way, this felt like the best option. I did think about how and if I could kill you tonight, though," he admitted. "Gunshot wound to the head to knock you out long enough so I could dismember your body and scatter them across the realms— slit your throat with a spelled blade, but you'd probably survive that."

I scoffed, bringing the glass of whiskey to my lips. "No one can say you aren't a visionary."

"Yeah, don't drink that." He rolled his eyes. "I spiked it with herbs from a warlock," he said lowly. "It wouldn't kill you but you'd be paralyzed long enough for me to do whatever I needed to."

"Why not go through with it?" I asked. "I almost drank it."

He tilted his chin at Paris. "Because this asshat didn't want a drink. You stop moving, he realizes I drugged you- he has a gun, and I die. End of story." He ran a hand through his hair. "My life flashed before my eyes when you raised that glass and I'm not ready to die just yet."

I sighed, setting the glass back down on the desk and Paris laughed at him. "You're way too honest."

"What's the point in lying? It's tiring." He shrugged. "He knows I want him dead. There's no need to pretend."

"You wanting me to die is one thing," I spoke up. "But taking out an entire orphanage is far beyond that goal, Drake."

His dead eyes were trained on me, the red bags above his slightly hollow cheeks apparently as he looked at me blankly. I raised a brow, almost thinking he had passed out where he sat but he snorted, a tired laugh leaving him. "I'm too drunk for whatever the hell you just said to make any sense."

"We spoke about this in the counsel meeting, Drake, don't play stupid," I warned. "The orphanage I built in the Underworld that just miraculously blew the fuck up. I know you're responsible for that."

"Huh?" He tilted his head and squinted at me. "Didn't all those kids and volunteers die..."

"Yes."

"And you think I did that?" He asked slowly.

"A source tells me you did."

He laughed a bit. "Well, your source is probably a lot drunker than I am at the moment. I didn't do that shit."

"Why would I believe anything that comes out of your mouth?" I asked in a flat tone. "You hate me."

"Yes." He nodded. "More than anything. I dream about killing you. In fact, since you've sat down here I've imagined a million ways I could murder you."

"You realized you're proving my point."

"I'm not. At all." He shook his head, disgust creasing his features. "I hate it you. And you only. Despite what you may believe I have a code of ethics- just as you do. It's what has kept me from going after your family and the people I know you care about. My only problem in this world is you. Why would I blow up an orphanage? There were a bunch of kids in there."

"Because I was the one who created it."

"Okay?" He asked. "But that's so minuscule. If I wanted to piss you off I would've just blown up the building. I don't hurt innocent people- let alone children. That's disgusting. I'm not a monster."

Paris and I glanced at each other before I looked back at Drake. He hadn't given me much to go off of- but my gut was telling me that he was telling the truth. He of all people.

"Also," he added dryly. "A couple of friends of mine volunteered at that place. All they wanted to do was help and the place just—" he sucked in a shaky breath before slowly releasing it and shaking his head slowly at me. "You know their families are still asking me for their bodies- as leader of their faction they trust me to fix these things, you know? But they just vanished. You'd think as vampires our families wouldn't have to worry about a moment possibly being the last time they saw us..."

"You truly didn't do it, did you?" Paris asked him, and Drake blinked out of his trance, his eyes fluttering back to him.

"No, you have the wrong guy." He grabbed his glass and stood up, grabbing another bottle of liquor from the stand behind him and pouring himself a full glass with shaky hands. For a fleeting second, I could almost see myself in him except I was popping pills to forget instead of drinking and fucking countless women. We both had a duty to protect our people and we had failed- the weight of that was heavy. "Who the fuck told you I had anything to do with it?"

I blew out a breath, running a trembling hand through my hair as my anger flooded through my body. "Would you happen to know an Aiden Greene and why he'd throw you under the bus?"

He froze, the glass of liquor a mere few inches from his lips. "He's the one that told you..."

"You know him."

"Do I know him," he whispered with a bitter laugh. "Yeah, he's a fucking psychopath! Do you know what he is?"

"W-what are you talking about?"

Drake raised a brow and I could practically see the wheels working in his head as he looked at me. I needed information and he was the one that held it. This wasn't going to be free.

"I want something from you," he said.

Of course.

꧁꧂

Boy—.