33

Tom Trainer had changed. Strong body, keen eyesight, developing fangs, and the kind of hearing a bat would envy. So he was hardly surprised to overhear a hushed discussion between Dare, Alistair, and Mear three rooms over, in the new compound Ethan had procured for them. He was, however, surprised to hear his name mentioned, and when the male voices dropped another decibel, he jumped to his feet and went over to the door to listen.

“You did promise him, Commander.” It was Mear.

“He’s not ready yet,” Ethan said tightly. “He will go after that doctor and not only forget his obligation to me, but cause a disturbance that might hinder my plan.”

“But, Commander, I could—”

“Do you want a dead lover, Mear? Because if he goes and my wishes aren’t carried out to the letter, I will slice him apart in front of you, understand?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“He will have his day to drain the pain-in-the-ass doctor. Today I must take back what is mine. If what Alistair says about the doctor is true, if she indeed has vampire blood in her veins, the balas and its host are no longer safe there. Mear, you go with Alistair. Make sure there are no problems.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom hid behind the door as the two recruits passed by him. They were going to Walter Wynn.

His blood, renewed, strong, lustful, and hateful, cried out for her.

Sara.

Ethan Dare was his commander, and he would follow him in all things. All things, but one.

Today, he followed Mear and Alistair—right out of the iron gates and into the street.

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