“She seemed quite upset.”
Mencheres looked up from Kira’s newly sleeping form to meet Vlad’s level gaze. “I have some explaining to do once she wakes,” he replied dryly.
“You, explaining yourself to a vampire not yet two weeks old.” Vlad shook his head. “From where I sit, Radjedef is correct in his claims that you’ve fallen recklessly in love.”
“Does that make you wonder if his other claims about me are true as well?” Mencheres challenged.
Vlad’s smile was wintry. “No. But I’m wondering why all of a sudden Radje decided to come after you this ruthlessly? Your animosity toward each other has long existed, but neither of you has openly acted on it. He didn’t even back Patra during her war against you. That’s what your other allies are wondering as well. Why would a Guardian suddenly risk everything for an eons-old feud?”
“Radje did not back Patra because she meant to kill me, and he wants me alive,” Mencheres replied, shifting Kira more comfortably in his arms. “Why now is because he fears if he tarries, I might forever slip his grasp, taking with me the one thing no one else can give him for a thousand years.”
Vlad’s brows rose. “And that is?”
“My legacy of power.” Mencheres let out a soft grunt. “Many vampires raged when I passed it on to Bones, but none more than Radje. He feels it’s his power that I unfairly stole, but if not for me, Tenoch would have given it to someone else. Tenoch knew Radje couldn’t be trusted with such incredible power over vampires. Of course, Radje doesn’t concede this point.”
Vlad let out a snort. “I confess I was one of those vampires who thought I might be the recipient of that legacy. After all, you and I were close, and I was the last vampire Tenoch made, though he left you to care for me along with the rest of the dependent members of his line when he killed himself mere weeks after siring me.”
“I was proud to call you one of mine until it was time for you to become your own Master,” Mencheres said in a voice thickened from memories. “You know I care for you still. Fate chose Bones as my heir. I merely obeyed her choice.”
Vlad’s mouth dipped. “Yes, fate does have a whimsical sense of humor, doesn’t she?”
Then Vlad’s usual, jadedly amused expression settled back over his face. “I have no complaints. You saved my sanity more than once in my early years when I lost my wife, then my son to death. You ever have my loyalty and gratitude for that. Yes, I will stand as your witness in your meeting with Veritas, repeating all that transpires if need be. You, however, will have the hardest job. You’ll have to get her to come.”
Mencheres rested his head against the interior of the limousine. Convincing the staunchest member of the Guardian Council to meet with him secretly so Mencheres could accuse another Law Guardian of lying and betraying their race? And then ensuring that Veritas agreed to just let him leave after their meeting? Yes, that part would be a challenge.
K ira awoke with a sharp cramp in her stomach. She glanced around, but of course she wasn’t in the limo anymore with Mencheres and the other infamous vampire. In fact, she was alone.
The room had no windows, but it was clearly a bedroom, as what she was lying on attested to. The residual sounds around her had a curious echoing quality to them, and the walls didn’t look like plaster or concrete. They looked like highly polished rock, actually, and the air had an odd smell to it. Not unpleasant; just unfamiliar.
Another jab in her stomach took Kira’s curiosity away from her surroundings. She hadn’t eaten since feeding from that young man on the Haunted Mansion ride. Almost a day ago, her stomach reminded her with increasing insistence.
She rose from the bed, noticing that she was now wearing a maroon satin nightgown instead of the belted bedsheet. Mencheres must have switched her clothes, but he was nowhere to be seen now. Kira did a quick inspection of the bedroom, which thankfully had an antique armoire in the corner containing male and female clothes. She slipped into a cardigan and slacks with a mental apology to whoever the clothes belonged to, but that rumbling in her stomach was starting to become ominous.
Once dressed, she left the bedroom in search of Mencheres. To her surprise, the hallway that she entered was very tall, with more of those odd walls around her. She passed another three doors on her way to the top of what looked like a narrow staircase. When she started down, Kira stared. The staircase was of polished stone, cut into steps, and it led to an impossibly large living area with a huge domed ceiling. Still, not a single window was in sight, and those grayish shiny walls were all around.
“Ah, you’re awake,” a lightly accented voice said from beyond her sight.
Kira went farther into the room, disappointed that the voice didn’t belong to Mencheres. Vlad sat on one of the three sets of couches in the huge room, an open laptop in front of him, his hand idly stroking his bearded chin.
“Is Mencheres here?” Kira asked, that question more pressing to her than even the painful gurgles starting to build up in her stomach.
“No, but he should return soon. You’re up earlier than we expected. The sun won’t set for two more hours yet. Hungry?”
A flare of pain went through her even as she managed to say, “A little,” in a tone that wasn’t shaking.
“No trouble, I’ll send someone in for you,” he replied.
Some one? “Um, if you have any bagged blood, that would be better.”
Vlad let out a short laugh. “ Bagged blood? You haven’t taken those training wheels off yet? Of course, when I was changed, there wasn’t any bagged blood. Criminals or enemy soldiers were thrown in with new vampires during those first few days.”
It only went to show how hungry she was that such a mental image didn’t ruin her appetite. “If I can avoid treating people like food, that’s my choice,” she replied, bristling a little at the “training wheels” comment.
Vlad’s cool gaze considered her. “You think you’re honoring humans by not feeding from them, but you’re actually hurting them. Animal blood won’t suffice long term, and blood supplies are chronically low because not enough humans donate. Those bags you drink from might mean the difference between life and death for some humans in an emergency room, and if you have them, they don’t.”
He emphasized those two last words with a challenging cock of his brow. Kira found herself thinking that all the actors who’d played Dracula in the movies had it wrong. Vlad wasn’t a pasty-faced dandy with a Euro-trash accent, nor was he an aging aristocrat with claws for nails and a monstrous appearance. No, Vlad was a thirtyish, striking man with a compelling presence who had a brutally honest outlook on things. One he wasn’t shy about sharing, it seemed.
And he had a point. Her feeding preferences shouldn’t endanger anyone, and if she kept her diet limited to plasma bags, they would.
“You’re right,” she said. “I’d appreciate it if you would send for whoever you have as a donor, then. I’m hungry enough that it’s starting to concern me.”
He smiled, making those stern features all the sudden charming. “Of course.” Then he spoke into his cell phone, asking someone named Mordred to “send up Lewis.”
Kira lingered where she was, unsure. Should she sit down? Or was there a special room she was supposed to feed in? The kitchen seemed like the obvious choice, but in this weird windowless vampire hideout with its stone walls, floors, and echoing acoustics, who knew if there was a kitchen?
“Are we underground?” she asked.
“Not quite. We’re in the side of a mountain. This used to be an old mining station, but it’s long been deserted. I renovated it a few decades ago for a more comfortable, yet private, environment.”
If there were abandoned mine tunnels still underneath them, that would explain the echoes. “Where did Mencheres go?”
“To make an important call. Can’t have him using my cell, then our location being traced that easily, not with whom he’s calling.”
That’s right, Mencheres wanted to meet with the other Law Guardian, the one with the Latin name for truth: Veritas. Hopefully, Veritas would live up to her namesake and not attempt to ambush Mencheres if she did agree to a meeting.
Kira wondered if the other reason Mencheres wasn’t here yet was because he was stalling. She had no intention of just forgetting about the fact that he’d tried to commit suicide-by-ghouls.
A russet-haired young man walked into the room from the opposite way that Kira had entered. He bowed to Vlad, which struck her as strange, then he knelt.
“Not me, Lewis. Her,” Vlad said, with a careless wave of his hand toward Kira. “Have you done this before?”
She assumed the question was to her, since Lewis looked like a pro. “Once.”
“Use the hand, then. Less chance for a mistake there.”
Same thing Mencheres told me, Kira thought wryly. Was all of this Vampire 101? If so, what was in Vampire Advanced Courses?
Lewis smiled at her as he approached, holding out his hand. Kira glanced around. The floor was stone, so she wouldn’t ruin anything if she spilled a few drops.
“Let’s, um, sit down,” she said.
Vlad just watched from his spot on the couch, amusement decorating his chiseled features. Kira squared her shoulders. She could do this by herself. No sweat.
“Do you want to be put under first?” she asked Lewis as they sat down.
“Huh?” he replied in confusion.
Something like a cough came out of Vlad that jerked her head up. Vampires didn’t need to cough. Was that a muffled laugh?
“You know.” Kira’s eyes flashed green at Lewis, and her fangs seemed to jump out of her gums. “Get bespelled so you don’t feel or remember this.”
Lewis appeared even more confused. “If that’s what you want.”
I will not ask for pointers from Dracula, she swore to herself. I will not. “Yeah, I’d feel better about that. So, ah . . . look into my eyes.”
Another strangled sound came from Vlad’s direction. Now Kira was sure it was a laugh. She determined to ignore him.
Lewis obediently stared at her, and Kira tried to make her voice sound confident. “You don’t feel anything. You’re not afraid.”
“I am,” came Vlad’s immediate reply. “If you tell him wolves are the children of the night next, I might hurt myself laughing.”
“I’m trying to focus,” she gritted out, those pains inside her growing worse. Then as delicately as she could, she lifted Lewis’s hand to her mouth, seeking that same throbbing vein between the thumb and the wrist that she’d bitten into yesterday. Her fangs almost ached with need as she slowly slid them in, a little moan escaping her when that first hot taste met her tongue.
Kira forget about Vlad after that. Forgot about everything except the controlled bliss of feeding without damaging the fragile hand in her grip. By the time her hunger ebbed, she’d realized her eyes had closed in enjoyment . . . and when she opened them, Mencheres was in the room.
M encheres entered silently, knowing what was going on before he saw Kira. Though the entrance of the house was almost impossible to see from the exterior of the mountain, once inside it, voices carried. Then he’d watched her feed from the human with a mixture of pride and arousal. Her expression was so sensual as she fed—and his trip to the hospital to secure those three blood bags had not been needed, it seemed.
Then her eyes opened and fixed right on his. For a moment, he felt as if everyone else in the room vanished. If they had truly been alone, he would have thrown himself on top of her and kissed her until her nails dug deliciously deep grooves into his back. His power swirled inside him, wanting to touch her as well. Everything about Kira made him come alive. He’d only been away from her for a few hours, yet that time dragged and burned across his subconscious until it was almost painful.
She pulled her mouth away from the male’s hand, closing the holes as he’d shown her before more than a couple spare drops fell onto the floor. Then she rose, coming toward him with her gaze still dazzling green.
“Before the two of you get too far along, what did Veritas say?” Vlad asked.
Mencheres shook his head to clear away the images of all the different ways he was going to take Kira as soon as he had her back in the bedroom. “She’ll come,” he replied shortly. “Tomorrow.”
“Afternoon or evening, right?” Kira asked, her sultry expression being replaced by one of stubbornness. “Not morning?”
He smiled faintly. “No, not morning.” As if he didn’t see that argument coming.
“Good.” Her expression didn’t change, however. “I’m going to take a shower. And then, after that, Mencheres, we need to talk.”
It was clear from her tone, scent, and body language that he was not invited to join her bathing activities this time. He wasn’t surprised. He’d known she would confront him about the ghouls. He’d only hoped Vlad might not be within earshot when she did.
He supposed it didn’t matter. Whatever his plans were before to end his life, they’d changed. He’d have to be forced into the grave now instead of embracing it as he’d intended before. Death meant separation from Kira, something deplorable to him. It might come soon regardless, but not with his assistance anymore.
Kira left the room after murmuring thanks to the young man, who bowed to Vlad before he walked away. Mencheres exchanged a long glance with Vlad. His friend had a knowing curl to his lips.
“From the sounds of it, you’re in trouble,” Vlad drawled.
He shrugged. “I have it coming.”