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"Don't call me Mistress," I say. "Vivienne."

"Vivienne. It is a beautiful name," he says. "Suits a beautiful woman."

"Please," I say with a snort. "You're not going to distract me with praise. Pretty sure I'm immune to that."

"Is that right?" Lachlan says, perching on the dust-covered arm of another cloth-draped couch.

"I need to know what's going on," I say, interrupting whatever nonsense is about to come out of the huge man's mouth this time.

"Well, I think in your hands you have one of the missing totems of House Midnight. And the Council... I have a hard time believing that you don't know what it is you've apparently stumbled into just as well as I do."

"I've studied these societies," I say, testing out the words, so used to being made fun of for the mere idea of my research that I'm almost waiting for him to laugh at me, to tell me I'm being ridiculous. To scoff and tell me there's better things for me to spend my time on.

"Aye, the societies—the one that you're now head of."

I blink, decide to deal with that problem later, and continue on. "These secret societies have been the focus of my research since I was an undergraduate student. And my ex stole my research."

"An ex?" Lachlan says darkly.

And maybe it's my imagination, or the incredibly dim light of early evening in this abandoned house, but something shifts in his face. Something feral flashes across his eyes. It's gone just as quickly as it appeared.

"Uh, yeah," I make myself say, trying not to stare. I don't know what's rude in bear culture, but generally, staring at someone when you catch them doing something strange is a bad idea.

"And where might this ex live?" Lachlan intones.

"I really don't want to talk about him," I say, waving my hand. "Suffice to say I have done a lot of research on these societies. But all of that research was done with the understanding that they were extinct," I say, my voice getting higher with every word, faster as the truth dawns on me. "But they aren't, are they?" I say, staring over at him with huge eyes.

"They're not extinct," Lachlan agrees. "And you're the head of one now. You're the Head of House Midnight, which is supposed to be extinct."

That darkness flashes across his face again, his expression shifting just enough to make me realize that the charming facade he presents is just that. This man is dangerous.

"You're the head of a house that was supposed to be extinct—was hunted into it. And you have a seat on the Eternal Society Council. A council of immortals who've long steered human history."

"Immortals," I repeat.

I hate that it makes sense. I hate the idea that this Council I've been studying most of my adult life—piecing together fragments of mentions, scraps of paper hidden throughout history books—has been sitting right in front of me the whole time.

“Sanguis Unus, Saecula Multa, one blood⁠—”

“Many centuries,” Lachlan says, and I startle as he pounds his fist twice over his heart.

“Patres Aeterni.” I run a hand through my hair, then remember I’m wearing a fucking Eagles hat and take it off. Then turn off the little light on the bill, feeling like an idiot for so many, many reasons.

Lachlan’s watching me carefully, with the air of a predator waiting to strike.

“I thought,” I shake my head, my throat tight. “I thought it meant just… you know, founding fathers type shit. Authority figures, the leaders. I didn’t ever think it meant⁠—”

“Eternal fathers.” Lachlan shakes his head, leaning forward, eyes tracking my every movement.

“Immortals. Fuck me,” I breathe.

“Now, lass.” Lachlan stands. “We only just met, but if that’s what you want⁠—”

“What?” I sputter. “No. Christ.”

He shrugs. “I live to serve. Sanguis Unus.”

All I can do is stare, trying to beat back the flush I feel blooming up my neck and cheeks. “Maybe I will take that Scotch,” I say weakly.