"What the hell just happened?" Gillian demanded from her sister as they were finally left alone in the boardroom with their lawyers.

"I don't know," Elissa admitted, her suspicious gaze shifting to Declan.

The man smiled arrogantly, dismissing his people with a wave of his manicured hand before smoothly sliding a file over the table.

Elissa caught it with languid ease, opening the blue cover and reading the contents, but she barely made it past the first page when her frown returned, her lips compressing into a thin line.

"Father did not trust us to navigate our way out of this and bought himself a private police force under the guise of a unit dedicated to dealing with serial killers, or, should I say, this particular serial killer.

"What next? Are we to be gently ushered out of the way while he brings in people who are more experienced than us?" The stiffness of her sister's shoulders, the glimmer of blue in her eyes, the way her fangs peeked out, the tight muscles in her throat, and her fisted hands needed no translation.

She found Elissa's control over her emotions more chilling than her fury as she effortlessly adopted a deceptively mild tone of voice that did not fool the lawyer. He paled under that direct, forceful gaze that left no doubt whose daughter this was.

"No. Your father wanted you to have room to maneuver around the people interfering with the course of your work without the constraints of budgets, forensic backlog, overlapping departments, and the red tape of a constrained situation like this." He stacked his fingers again, but this time it betrayed nervousness. Interesting.

"More to the point, he was approached a while ago to create a similar model, but at home, and had no interest in the project.

"Without his support, there was no incentive, and it never quite got off the ground. He had other problems then, but now he sees the potential for this unit—a way we can work within the system to police ourselves and keep the world in the dark.

"We can do a little good for humanity and hide in plain sight. I would think you would see the merit in this, Your Highness." He nodded his head respectfully. "This is a diplomatic and tactical solution to our problems."

His smile faltered when Elissa's expression turned to ice.

"Don't presume to know my mind. I see the way our father packaged this and the intent behind it. I am not a child to believe there would be no interference." She leaned back in her chair, coiled like a cougar about to pounce, yet indolent as well. "Just like the men who left this room, I have no choice but to accept our King's will."

***

Gillian launched the pen she had been distractedly toying with over the hardwood table, making a dent in the wood.

"How the hell do you expect us to work with these humans after this? You basically told them our whole lives are a lie, and we're spoiled little princesses who ran to Daddy when the going got tough!

"We bought ourselves a police department, and we're influential enough to make it legal. You destroyed my bond with this unit, and they will ostracize us silently but effectively.

"Trust can't be bought, replaced, or healed. How do you expect us to convince them we have their backs when we just turned into strangers? You might as well walk in there and tell them we're not like them!" She was not as good at holding onto her anger.

Declan stared at her, and it clearly hadn't occurred to him or their father that there was more at stake here than creating a shadow police force.

"Perhaps we should start with a clean slate?" He suggested.

"No!" Their decisive and instant reaction made his elegant brows draw into a scowl. He wasn't used to being thwarted.

"I am only trying to help." He tried again, and Elissa stared him down.

"You did enough. You presented your argument, won the fight, and passed judgment. Now, if you don't mind, we have had enough of humans and vampires for one day. We're dirty, hungry, and pissed off." She rubbed over her face and grimaced at the unhealed wounds. "We require time to think and regroup, and we're going home." Her blatant dismissal brought Declan to his feet, and Gillian wasn't the only one who noticed her sister's resigned bitterness.

"It was a privilege to meet you both. If you ever need anything, my number is in the folder—night or day. There are no office hours and waiting lists for you, and we are at your service." He nodded at both of them.

The devil-may-care glint in his eye, usually accompanying his every word and gesture, lacked. They nodded, wanting him to leave them alone and barely hearing his words.

***

Gillian dropped her head on her arms the second they were alone and sighed. The urge to pick up her life and run away again almost overpowered her, but she dared not act on it. This time, not even being Guillane Beaumont would save her.

"I should never have asked for help." She didn't even realize she'd said the words aloud, and the unexpected weight of Elissa's hand on her shoulder startled her. Yet, as intended, the contact soothed some of the crushing despair at losing the life she fought so hard to call her own.

It was inevitable in a way that her soap bubble dream would end, and she fought that awareness with every fiber of her being since she first crossed that street.

Her time with Cold and Boss was always a fragile dream. A taste of life as a human and not meant for her kind. She expected her vampireyness would end it all, not her family's money.

"We will find a way to do this, but not today and not now. We're headed home for a hot shower, a meal, a glass of red wine, and a good wallow in our defeat. "Tomorrow, we get up and face them, showing them that we have not changed—only their perception of us did. Come."

Elissa did not give her a chance to dawdle, and no one saw them leave, not the cops or the press, as they stealthily made their way toward the back and disappeared into the streets.

Gillian doubted her sister's wisdom. With other people, it may work, but cops were a breed apart. Trust did not come readily to them, and once lost, it was almost impossible to regain.