Eleven Brothers

Laeddin pulled me into a hug. "We need to talk."

The scent of his blood lit my throat on fire. Not to mention the way his skin smelled and felt. And the way he looked in his jeans and button up shirt. He was beautiful in every way.

I pushed him back. "I tried to talk to you several times this morning, but you wouldn't listen." I crossed my arms.

"I know. But there is something about me, about my family you need to know." He sighed. "It has to do with the demura."

I twisted some hair between my fingers. "Go on." I already knew thanks to Gatsby, but I'd give him a moment.

"You better sit down. It's kind of a long story." He led me over to the couch.

When we were sitting, he began, "Many years ago - "

"You mean two thousand years ago, don't you?" I crossed my arms and leaned back against the cushions.

Laeddin's brows furrowed. "How do you know?"

"Well, old man, if you would've let me talk this morning, I would've told you that I know everything."

"Everything?" He smirked.

"Well, smar