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Ch. 8: I'm a fly on the wall.

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It was a deep and horrible mistake that Jace didn't have clothes to dress nicely. On the way to the Alcott coven, they stopped at a suit shop, something simple that would need to be tailored, and the sales associate took one look at Jace and declared, "I have just the thing."

Jace wore a pair of black slacks that hugged his muscular thighs and hard butt like a glove. It left nothing to Mathew's imagination. Jace chose not to wear the tie and wore a blazer over the black shirt he had been given. The associate begged for pictures to use on their social media, but Jace turned them all down. Mathew had a feeling they just wanted Jace to stay around a little longer.

Meanwhile, Mathew stayed true to his Ventura roots. It was his first time associating with a coven outside of Anthony or Dante's business dealings. He wanted to make sure he presented himself as a member of the Ventura and deserved to be treated as such.

The Alcott coven was a two-hour drive away, and Mathew wasn't sure what to expect when they rolled up. The gate outside and the vampires manning the gate weren't odd, but the house was smaller than Mathew expected, until Jace rolled past it. They drove by three other large houses until finding the end of the driveway, coming upon a gigantic colonial home with big white pillars and a wraparound porch on the first two levels of the house.

At first glance, it appeared traditional and old by the ivy crawling up the house, but it was bigger than historically accurate and brighter, as if the paint could never dim. Everything was pristine to the blue shutters, the hedges, the grass, and especially the expertly placed furniture on the deck. Everything seemed like part of the decoration.

A butler met them at the front, opening Mathew's door for him. He took the keys from Jace, assuring him he would park it. The butler explained, "Her Majesty doesn't wish to look out her window and see a parking lot."

"Go for it," Jace said and tossed him the keys.

Beside him, a housekeeper motioned towards the house. "You may follow me," she said, but Mathew had a question he wasn't sure he could ask the owners.

"Excuse me," Mathew said, and she stopped, delicately folding her hands in front of her. She had the grace and posture of a ballerina. "What were the houses I passed on the way inside?"

"Oh, aren't they lovely?" She smiled and answered like she had trained for it. "Those homes are for the royal family when they come to visit for long periods of time. Her Majesty prefers a peaceful home and her Lady, Hester, has children that would be happier if they were freer to play without disturbing the rest of the family."

"That makes sense," Mathew said with a polite smile, but as he followed the housekeeper, he gave Jace a look. Jace held up his hands.

Both doors opened before the housekeeper had a chance to touch the knob. Mathew passed the butlers holding the doors, who were bowing their heads, and it hit Mathew all at once that these were all humans. His stomach acids squirmed. It was traditional, but Mathew was more accustomed to vampiric staff.

The inside of the home matched the outside, pristine, and sparse personality. Every choice seemed to be made, like the foyer was a museum wing and not a home. Every detail was meant to be appreciated. Not touched. It was minimalism if the curator had a black AmEx card.

"This way," the housekeeper said and walked them to a side door, but stopped. She glanced at Jace. "You're his highness, Mathew's bodyguard, correct?"

"Yeah," Jace said, unimpressed.

Her smile stayed screwed on tight. "Then I must ask you to stay silent. Face the very far wall. His highness is, of course, safe here, but we understand your duty, so please return the respect."

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