Free The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) by Rebecca Trogner Page B

most powerful sorcerer, for your advisor?” Grigori countered.
    “I do. Merlin is my most trusted advisor.” He had heard the arguments against Merlin for too long to be lured into anger by Grigori’s comment. “Merlin does not drink vampire blood. Something this council has forbidden.”
    “Neither do they drink of the blood, any longer.” Grigori fixed the cuff of his shirt. “I meted out their punishment.”
    “Which was?” Carlos asked.
    Grigori sucked air through his teeth. “If you’d like me to produce their burned bones, I will do so.”
    “You say it like their demise was as easy as snapping a twig,” Beline said.
    Grigori grimaced at Beline’s words. “Not so easy as that,” was his response.
    Queen Merneith was elegant, black as night, and sharp of tongue. “We are not here to discuss the witches, egregious as they may be. We are here to speak about you. Tell us, Grigori, what exactly are you?”
    Grigori shook back his curly brown hair. “I am the future.”
    Five sets of ancient vampire eyes stared at him.
    “Oh, come now, why so serious?” Grigori scoffed. “Did you ever ask the Elder what he was?” He took his time making eye contact with each royal. “No, I’m sure you did not. I’m not here to disrupt your rule. I only want peace.”
    “Men who come in peace rarely leave that way,” Merneith said.
    “Ekaterina’s rule would have ended sooner rather than later. She was ineffectual and…” Grigori tipped his head to the side. “Dangerous in her desires. Tell me, how did Henry die?” Grigori’s jovial demeanor did not waver as he watched Krieger.
    “My brother died by my hand. I have recounted this to council. He threatened our existence.” Krieger responded as if he were bored of the subject. “His instability was dangerous to us all.”
    Grigori tilted his head just a tick more. It reminded him of the Elder’s gestures.
    “Are you sure it wasn’t your Sanguis Ancilla that delivered the death blow?” Grigori looked smug. “Of course, I must be mistaken. What would I know of such things? Her name, your Sanguis, is Lily Ayres, is it not?”
    Krieger regarded him as a human would an ant. Grigori was obviously proud of his spies in Krieger’s kingdom. Would he be so self-satisfied once Krieger rooted them out and sent them home sans their head?
    Pao spoke up. “Krieger’s human is not our interest.”
    Krieger didn’t care for the way she referred to Lily, like she was talking about the plague, even if she was taking his side.
    “Hmm.” Grigori rose, placing his hands on the table. “What do your spies say I am?”
    Carlos coughed up sputum. He’d been made vampire seconds before he would have died of a stroke. He was a sickly, rotund, misshapen man whose ugliest feature was his face. Krieger had often thought that the vampire who sired Carlos was depraved. To force eternity upon someone who was miserable, grossly disfigured, abused, with little intelligence and a penchant for cruelty, was reprehensible.
    “We prefer to hear the words from your mouth,” Beline said. He ruled the prestigious lands of Europe. The Elder used to say he was ‘the bridge which links east to west.’ As a human, Beline had fought and killed his own beloved brother to rule over Briton. Beline had warned him, told him to step down, explained what the consequences would be if he did not, and when it was clear Beline would have to follow through on his claim, he wasted no further time talking.
    “Did you think the world would not change?” Grigori asked. “That the ones the Elders imprisoned would not one day rise up to escape their imprisonment?”
    Merneith sighed. “We have no time for childish tales.”
    “No.” Since his arrival Grigori had not taken the meeting or them seriously, until now. His tone took on an authoritative quality. “The Elder knew he was dying. It took the full strength of five Elders to lock the last gate. How long did you think Huthwiat alone could keep it