Disconnecting, he let out a sigh.
This could get very tricky, very fast.
“Tarian?” a voice called from beyond his door.
“Come in,” he said.
The wooden door opened, and his sister stepped into the study. “I heard you talking,” she said as she crossed the carpeted floor to his side. Dropping into the armchair that matched his, she curled her legs under her and gazed at the old fireplace.
“Isn’t it a little warm for a fire?” she asked.
It was, but Tarian enjoyed firelight rather than the harsh fluorescents that were so popular nowadays. “What can I do for you, Eilin?”
“The rumors are growing,” she replied, her voice subdued. “People are calling for sides to be chosen.”
Tarian rubbed a hand down his face. “We stay out of it as we always have. The last place we want to be is caught between the vampires and our kin.”
She wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her chin on top of them like she’d done as a child so many years ago.
A soft smile curved his lips as he gazed at his sister. No matter how many decades they lived, to him she’d always be the chubby little blonde baby that had followed him around all day, every day.
“Are they wrong?” she whispered finally, staring into the fire. “The vampires have pushed us to the edge of society for centuries. If we want a real life, isn’t it worth fighting for?”
“We have a real life.”
She shot him a glare. “If we keep what we are secret. We have to pretend to be human half the time.”
“It’s better than the alternative.”
“Is it?” She pushed to her feet. “Grandfather says—”
“You’re too young to remember the wars,” he cut her off, rising. “The vampires are an ancient and powerful faction. Add to that the fact that these are modern times, equipped with social media, camera phones, and zero anonymity. Taking them on now might risk exposing the supernatural world to the humans.”
Eilin threaded her fingers through her ringlets. “How can you not hate them?”
Melissa’s face flashed across his mind, and he glanced away from his sister. “Once I hated them, for longer than you’ve been alive,” he replied. “And you know what good came out of it?”
She shook her head.
“Death. That’s all. Nothing changed. It never does.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So what is the use of hate?”
“You need to take a stand,” she charged. “Nothing will ever change if we don’t try. We have to make the ruling vampires listen to us.”
“And how do you suppose we do that?” Tarian said, not bothering to hide his amusement.
This time she didn’t answer.
“Eilin?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “But grandfather has a plan.”
A chill went down his spine. He still remembered the screams of the dying the last time they faced off against the vampires. No matter what his brethren decided, he wasn’t letting Eilin get caught up in their nonsense.
“I think it’d be best if we avoid grandfather’s calls for the time being,” he told her. The man had never had much contact with them, but it seemed the limited time Tarian had allowed Eilin was still enough to inflict her with rebellious zeal. “There are always better solutions. Peaceful ones.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m not ashamed of what I am.”
“And you think I am?”
Silence.
Anger curled through him. Casting out his hand, magic poured from his palm to flood the room. The stag head mounted on the wall above the fireplace shook its antlers as it sprang to life. It let out a guttural cry, calling for its kin.
“Grandfather is powerful,” he said, his voice low. “But so am I. I’m not ashamed of my gift, Eilin, I’m cautious.” Releasing his magic, the stag stopped moving and returned to its original frozen position.
“Oh yeah?” she asked. “I know you joined that dating site. Tell me, brother, what did you list as your race?”
He stiffened.
“I’m betting it wasn’t necromancer,” she taunted. “So please, tell me again how proud you are of your heritage.”
Knowing she’d gotten the final word, Eilin strode from the study with her head held high.
Tarian fell back into his chair. He’d hoped New York would be a fresh start for them. A chance to get his sister away from the influence of their family.
But it seemed no matter where a necromancer ran, his problems followed.
Gazing into the fire, he thought of the woman with blood-red hair. Seeing her again was dangerous. Especially given her last name.