Page 133 of Thirst
Flames erupted from Dussault’s mouth and chest, licking over his body like hungry tongues until his body was nothing but charred fragments of ash and bone.
Brien raised a blood-slick dagger high. “Quebec City is mine,” he declared, voice echoing off the nearby mausoleums. “I claim it for the Maritime Syndicate.”
The QCS vampires stood frozen, statues carved from fear.
Lowering the dagger, he eyed each one in turn, taking his time, making sure they knew he was noting their faces. Their stares stayed nailed to the ground.
Finally, he jerked his chin. “My people will be in touch. Now get the fuck out of my sight.”
37
Cain
I hooked an arm around Nyx’s shoulders, keeping her close as the local vampires slipped away. Only Maxime remained. He cleared his throat, the sound loud in the night.
Brien’s head swiveled toward him. “You have something to say?”
“I do.” Maxime nodded at what remained of Dussault. “He—the primus—knew about your mother. Knew that Nazaire had staked her.”
“And?”
“Nazaire had an…interest in Lenore.” The information seemed dragged out of him, like what he had to say pained him. “He said your father had stolen her, that she should’ve been his mate, not Jules’s.”
Nyx stiffened against me. “What?!”
Maxime didn’t seem to hear her. “And when Jules started gaining power, more than my friend ever expected—it was salt in the wound. In the end, he hated them both.”
Twilight came up next to Brien, sliding an arm around his waist in wordless support.
Brien pulled her closer without looking away from Maxime. “So you’re saying he staked my mother because he wanted her?”
The other vampire shrugged, a small, resigned gesture that carried more weight than anything he could’ve said out loud.
“No.” Nyx straightened from me. “Maybe that’s what he told you. He might even have started believing it. But this wasn’t about Prima Lenore. This was about power.”
A dark cloud scudded over the moon, like Luna herself was emphasizing Nyx’s point.
“He knew he could never rise higher in the QCS,” she continued, speaking slowly, like everything had finally locked into place for her. “Dussault was his age, and already had a lieutenant lined up to secede him. So he went after the Maritime Syndicate. I know he didn’t expect Brien to take his father’s place as primus.” Nyx glanced at Brien. “Your father’s lieutenant Prosper was supposed to slay you and ascend to primus.”
Twilight nodded. “Prosper was counting on that himself.”
Prosper had challenged Brien and lost. Brien spared him, but the lieutenant left Lilith Island anyway—a self-imposed exile that was better for everyone involved.
“So that was Nazaire’s angle,” I mused. “And I suppose he would’ve come for Prosper next.”
Nyx spread her hands. “That’s my guess. I don’t have any proof, of course, but that’s how his mind worked. Always scheming, figuring how he could turn things his way.”
“Perhaps,” Maxime allowed. He dipped his head in Brien’s direction, half bow, half surrender. “Good evening, my lord. I’ll make sure the truth of what happened here tonight reaches the right ears.”
“Wait,” Brien said as the other man started to turn away.
“Yes?” Maxime asked.
“Why tell me now?”
“You deserve to know. And maybe—” a self-deprecating smile curled over his lips—“I’d like a place in this new organization of yours.”
“I’ll consider it,” was Brien’s clipped reply.
