Lover Avenged Read Free

off the crown molding and gilded ceiling. “Our race is dying out and we need real leadership. By law, though, if Wrath’s heart beats within his chest, he is king. Is the life of one worth the lives of many? Search your heart.”
    Oh, Rehv was looking into it, all right, black, evil muscle that it was. “And then what.”
    “We take control and do what is right. During his tenure, Wrath has restructured things… Look at what has been done to the Chosen. They are now allowed to tally on this side-unheard of! And slavery is outlawed, along with sehclusion for females. Dearest Virgin Scribe, next thing you know there’ll be someone wearing a skirt in the Brotherhood. With us in charge, we can reverse what he has done and recast the laws properly to preserve the old ways. We can organize a new offensive against the Lessening Society. We can triumph.”
    “You’re using a lot of wes here, and somehow I don’t think that’s exactly what you are thinking.”
    “Well, of course there needs to be an individual who is first among equals.” Montrag smoothed the lapels of his smoking jacket and angled his head and body as if he were posing for a bronze statue or maybe a dollar bill. “A chosen male who is of stature and worth.”
    “And in what manner is this paragon going to be picked?”
    “We’re going to move to a democracy. A long-overdue democracy that shall replace the unjust and unfair convention of monarchy…”
    As a whole lot of blah-blah-blahing got its groove on, Rehv eased back, crossed his legs at the knees, and steepled his fingers. Sitting on Montrag’s fluffy sofa, the two halves him of warred, the vampire and the symphath clashing.
    The only bene was that the internal shouting match droned out the sound of all that nasally I-know-everything.
    The opportunity was obvious: Get rid of the king and seize control of the race.
    The opportunity was unthinkable: Kill a fine male and a good leader and…a friend of sorts.
    “…and we would choose who leads us. Make him accountable to the council. Ensure that our concerns are responded to.” Montrag returned to the couch he’d been on, sitting down and getting comfortable as if he could hot-air it about the future for hours. “The monarchy is not working and democracy is the only way-”
    Rehv cut in, “Democracy typically means that everyone gets a vote. Just in case you’re unfamiliar with the definition.”
    “But we would. All of us who serve on the council would be on the electoral board. Everyone would be counted.”
    “FYI, the term everyone encompasses a couple more folks over and above ‘everyone like us.’”
    Montrag shot over a load of oh-please-do-be-serious. “Would you honestly trust the race to the lower classes?”
    “Not up to me.”
    “It could be.” Montrag brought his teacup up to his mouth and looked over the brim with eyes that were sharp. “It absolutely could be. You are our leahdyre.”
    Staring at the guy, Rehv saw the path as clearly as if it were paved and lit with halogen beams: If Wrath were killed, his royal line would end, because he had yet to sire young. Societies, particularly those at war as the vampires were, abhorred leadership vacuums, so a radical shift from monarchy to “democracy” wouldn’t be as unthinkable as it would have in another, saner, safer time.
    The glymera might be out of Caldwell and hiding in their safe houses throughout New England, but that bunch of effete motherfuckers had money and influence and had wanted to take over forever. With this particular plan, they could clothe their ambitions in the vestments of democracy and make like they were taking care of the little people.
    Rehv’s dark nature seethed, a jailed criminal impatient for probation: Bad acts and power plays were a constitutional compulsion for those of his father’s blood, and part of him wanted to create the void…and step into it.
    He cut into Montrag’s self-important driveling. “Spare me the propaganda. What