Filthy rich VAMPIRE

Chapter 14- Julian

There are mansions. There are palaces. And then there are homes so obscene they could only be called monstrosities. My mother had a taste for the third. Sabine Rousseaux's Pacific Heights enclave took up nearly a city block. Its size was bettered only by that of a neighboring romance author's residence. My mother said she preferred the view from her balcony-a panorama of San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge-to the square footage.

The BMW's engine kicked into third as I made my way up the steep hill my family home sat atop. The house itself was a glorious bastard of design my parents had concocted over the course of a century. There was a revival-style portico mixing with French flourishes around the front. Arched windows sat in its limestone walls. I noticed a bit of scaffolding on the north side. No doubt my mother was still trying to match the original stone with what needed to be replaced following the 1906 earthquake. A twenty-foot-tall wrought iron fence surrounded the perimeter to keep curious tourists from straying into our home, more for their protection than ours. I rolled down my window at the gate and smiled grimly at the security camera. A moment later, it creaked open and I drove into the private underground garage. While my family liked cars a bit too much, it was clear she had guests.

Was this why she needed me so fucking urgently? Did she have a parade of potential familiars lined up and ready to present?

I picked my phone up from the passenger seat. I was not going to spend every second I had in this city making small talk with other rich vampires, their bastards, and a bunch of desperate witches. Navigating to the text messages, I found the last one sent.

This is Julian's number.

It had to be her. The rest of the messages were marked by name, except for one about my phone bill. There was no response. It must be the one she sent? I was still unclear on exactly how this worked. Was I supposed to wait until she sent a yes or no about dinner tomorrow and why? Was I supposed to ask again on this infernal device? Was it so hard to just answer me in-person? I decided to do it for her. It took me a second to punch in my message on the tiny digital keyboard. When I was finished I had more questions than answers about why today's people liked these crappy devices. There had to be a better way to communicate. After a few seconds, three dots blinked back at me.

What the hell did that mean?

They disappeared.

I waited, dimly aware that the elevator had arrived in the garage. The three dots appeared again and I ignored whoever had joined me. Another few seconds passed before I got a response.

Okay.

It was a start. Although to what, I wasn't sure. Stepping out of the car, I slid the phone in my pocket and turned to find my assistant waiting for me across the garage.

Celia greeted me at the elevator. "Sebastian is hosting a party in the opium den, but your mother requests to speak with you in her sitting room before you're stoned out of your mind."

I raised an eyebrow, and she held up her hands in apology.

"Her choice of words, not mine."

I followed her inside the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor. I had no interest in attending Sebastian's so-called party. I had no doubt orgy would be a better term for it. But I did need to speak with my brother.