Vance punches the button next to him, and the water starts immediately freezing along the edges.

“It’s amazing what technology exists in this era, Idun. I warned you not to fuck with me,” I add, as Vance starts reading off the highlighted portions of the blue-leather-bound book full of laws we’ve passed that we simply allowed Idun to break, because we didn’t bother to learn them.

“No alpha is allowed within one thousand feet of sanctuary territory without a written invitation from the House representative, January Violet Carmine,” he says as he flinches.

Marta let her do this after Violet deviated from her plan of the alpha fight. We heard the words and didn’t even ask what they bloody meant.

The glass I’ve been drinking from shatters in my hand, the last few sips of whiskey spilling with their newfound freedom, as Idun’s eyes widen more.

“As punishment for your violations, you’re sentenced to however fucking long it takes you to break yourself free of that,” Vance concludes.

“You don’t have your armies anymore, Idun, and I’ll not be cushioning you with mine,” I tell her as I lift the bottle of whiskey I’ve mostly drained, raising it as if to toast her. I guess I’ll drink straight from the bottle now that I’ve gone and ruined my glass. “Cheers, Idun. Welcome to a brave new world.”

As I sip the last of the whiskey, the pool quickly finishes freezing, and we all stare down, waiting for the monster to emerge. After a few minutes of nothing, I frown.

“I expected a fireball or one final rawr,” Damien says, miming a lazy cat claw, as he stares down in disappointment.

Turning up the bottle, I drink the rest of the whiskey, pushing through the door to where the camera man is tied to a tree. Shera walks off, tossing a hand in the air as the camera flies through the air and smashes into the wall.

Well, she didn’t answer my text, but she still showed up as I told her to do.

“Idun will let you know when she’s ready to film again,” I tell the wide-eyed male.

Vance drops a scroll in the man’s lap as he walks by. “By order of Van Helsing, production is shut down until she finds her own way out of that. Anyone who aides her will get her immediately punished again.”

“The next one will be a doozy. I’m very creative when I’m motivated,” I add with a dark smile, before turning and letting it fall.

“What?” I hear Zuela asking.

Abruptly, I turn to see Vance on his phone.

“I’m calling to ask a favor. I need you to put in—”

“Zuela, do you want to see the bedroom, or do you want to have tea and talk first?” I hear Violet asking over the phone, and I drop the bottle that shatters to the ground.

The shifter on the ground squeezes his eyes shut and makes a whimper, like he’s reminding us he’s here, before we say anything or have any reaction.

“I’ll be right there, Violet. Vance needs a favor,” Zuela says in a far too charming tone.

“Oh, that is wrong even by my standards,” Damien says in slight horror, as he recoils.

Vance cracks his neck to the side, his jaw ticking.

The shifter whimpers harder.

“Oh, sure. I’ll just wait in the bedroom then,” Violet says.

“We can’t kill the sniveling shifter for overhearing this, if we’re going to be Violet’s monsters, so let’s take this conversation elsewhere, shall we?” Vance asks very dryly.

“Are we killing the crying shifter or Zuela?” Emit asks very seriously.

“What conversation and what shifter, and why is the broken excuse for a hermit wolf trying to kill me off?” Zuela asks like he’s getting frustrated. “What favor?”

Vance starts talking again when we’re halfway down the street and at the car.

“Why the fucking hell are you with Violet right now?” he asks in a surprisingly calm tone.

“I’m here to see what sort of stained glass she was envisioning for the place, and she’s going to give me a bed to stay in here at the sanctuary until I’ve completed the project.”

“You can stay in my bloody house,” Vance counters very reasonably.

“Your father cannot have our girlfriend, or I’ll have to piss Violet off when I kill the bastard for fifty-three years,” I state very matter-of-factly.

Vance waves me off.

“Now the Vampyre is trying to kill me off. I’m not sleeping with your damn girlfriend. Kit would obliterate her,” Zuela states defensively.

“Kit would love her,” Damien argues very loudly and in a very concerned tone. “They all love her. Every-damn-body who spends five minutes with her loves her because she’s just that damn loveable. Zuela can’t stay with her when we’re trying to go with this stupid plan,” he adds, holding up the blue book from fucking hell.

“They feel better when an alpha is near, despite how untrue that should be. Marta’s on one end, and I’ll be staying on another,” Zuela adds like he’s annoyed with all of us.

“You’re going to share space with Marta Portocale?” Vance asks incredulously.

“Do you really want me to tell the girl you’re not allowing her to get her art piece because you think I want in her knickers?” he asks like he’s confused.

“Violet! Vance is having daddy issues and is trying to talk him out of giving you the stained glass!” Anna yells very loudly.