Chapter 9
“Dad, the other kids?”
“They may not have the birthmark, but they carry the gene. They’ll be watched.”
“But if we can’t find them—”
“There are others who will.”
And Ben knew he’d have to be satisfied with that.
* * * *
Joe
Joe looked down at the baby boy he held. Tyrell was starting to fuss. Had he picked up on his grandpa’s tension?
“Don’t you worry, little one. We’ll all keep you safe.” Joe began to croon a lullaby. It had been a long time since he’d tried to soothe a baby, but it wasn’t something he was likely to forget.
A shadow fell across him. He raised his gaze, up and up, and swallowed as he met the flat black eyes of the vampyre king. Even knowing he had nothing to worry about—after all, vampyres hadn’t fed on the unwilling for the past two or three hundred years—he was intimidated. The only one of their kind Joe had ever seen was the woman who’d come to claim his youngest boy when Phillip had turned eighteen.