Night Reigns

Chapter 15

Marcus stared up at the ceiling, toying with the silken strands of Ami’s hair. Darkness had fallen. They should both don their hunting gear and head out to find the damned vampire king and track down Richart, though Marcus had no idea where to begin doing the latter. Yet, they lingered in Ami’s rumpled, full-sized bed. Too small for Marcus’s height. His feet hung off the bottom, but he’d never felt more content.

Ami was curled up beside him, an arm and a leg draped across him. Her tears had long since dried. Tears that had made his chest ache. He never wanted her to need such catharsis again and intended to do his damnedest to see she wouldn’t.

It was odd. He had slept with many women during his long existence but, until now, had never wanted to linger afterward. That hollow sensation had always settled in as soon as the pleasure faded, driving him to leave as quickly as possible. But with Ami, it was different. She filled that hollow place within him and left him feeling as though he could spend the rest of his life like this, curled up in bed with her, talking quietly or just enjoying her presence.

“Where do you come from?” he asked.

Ami stirred against him beneath the sheets. “Your astronomers call my planet a jumble of numbers and letters, but—in our world, in our language—we call it Lasara.”

“So it isn’t in our solar system?”

“No. Our system is on the opposite side of what you call the Milky Way Galaxy.”

“So far,” he marveled.

She nodded.

“Are there others like you here on Earth?”

“No. I’m all alone.”

Marcus didn’t like the hint of melancholy that entered her voice and tightened his arms around her. “Not anymore.”

She hugged him back. “I wasn’t supposed to come here, you know. I defied our king to do so.”

“Your country is a monarchy?”

“Our planet is a monarchy, all people united and led by one ruler.” Tilting her chin up, she gave him a rueful smile. “My father, if you can believe it.”

Marcus stared at her. “Your father rules your entire planet?”

She grinned. “Yes. He’s very good, too, always placing the needs of the many above the needs of the few. There is no war or famine, very little crime.”

“It sounds like a Utopia.”

“It is.” Her smile faltered. “Or it was ... until a new ally outside our system alliance betrayed us.”

“System alliance? Don’t tell me there’s more than one populated planet in your solar system.” Weren’t life-sustaining planets supposed to be extremely rare?

“There are three planets and four moons that support life in our solar system, thanks to our advanced methods of terraforming.”

“You can do that?”

She nodded. “We’ve been doing it for more than a millennium.”

“I can’t even fathom that.” Damn. Her people sounded very advanced, which he supposed they would have to be for her to survive traveling such a long distance.

“How long did it take you to get here?” he asked.

She pursed her lips. “About thirteen months by your standards.”

His mouth fell open. “That’s all?”

“Wormholes shortened the travel time significantly.”

“This seems so unreal. But not in a bad way,” he hastened to add when her brow furrowed. “Does your father know you’re here?”

“I don’t think so. One of my brothers would have come for me by now if they knew what had happened.”

“What did happen? Why did you come here if your planet is such a Utopia and your father was against it?”

She hesitated. “Lasara is in trouble. Emissaries from another solar system approached us, wanting to join our alliance. They were our equals in technology and seemed a peace-loving society like our own. There was nothing about them that suggested deceit. Nothing in their thoughts. Nothing—”

“Wait. Lasarans are telepathic?”

“Yes, but not like Lisette and Étienne. Or David and Seth. We don’t automatically hear the thoughts of those around us and have to learn to tune them out. For us, telepathy is like ...” She shrugged. “It’s more like whistling, an acquired ability that we must concentrate to use.”

He thought back to the many times he had wished her gone those first few days of their acquaintance, the times he had stripped her bare and indulged in silent, lustful fantasies before he had even kissed her. “Have you read my thoughts?” he asked warily, wondering why she hadn’t cold-cocked him at least half a dozen times.

She frowned. “Of course not. We don’t just go around reading people’s thoughts at will.” He knew a number of immortals who did. “It’s an invasion of privacy. We only do it in critical situations that warrant such action, like to determine whether someone committed a crime.”

“Or double-checking a new ally’s intentions?”

“Yes.” She squinted her eyes at him. “Why? What would I have seen had I read your thoughts?”

He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Things that would make you blush, little one. If you’d like a taste, read my thoughts right now.” He filled his mind with images of all the titillating things he wanted to do to her.

Color bloomed in her cheeks as she buried her face in his chest.

Chuckling, he kissed the top of her head. “This is all very new to you, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Intimate contact of any kind isn’t allowed between unmarried men and women on Lasara. Once they reach puberty, single males and females aren’t allowed to be alone together unchaperoned.”

“Really?” It didn’t seem as shocking to him as it might to men born in the past century because the same had been true amongst the nobility of his birth time. But he felt uneasy, knowing he might have inadvertently pushed her to do something she wasn’t ready for or that went against her beliefs.

She tilted her head back, cheeks still rosy. “I was ready, and I don’t regret it.”

Smiling, he gave her a featherlight kiss. “Just let me know if anything I do ever makes you uncomfortable.”

A twinkle entered her eye. “I’ve helped you kick dozens of vampire asses. Do you think I would remain quiet if you did something I didn’t like?”

He laughed. “No, I don’t.”

She smiled. “I like that you think I’m strong.”

“You are strong.”

She shook her head. “I lived such a sheltered life on Lasara.”

“What happened there? What did the new allies do?”

“They released a virus we had no defense against. And we have exceedingly strong immune systems. There is very little illness on Lasara. When some of our people sickened after coming into contact with the Gathendiens, we thought the Gathendiens were carriers and hadn’t realized they would infect us. It was airborne and extremely contagious, but really seemed no more dangerous than one of the mild strains of your influenza virus. No one died. Most recovered in two or three days. We thought little of it and went forward with a treaty.”

“And?”

“Over the next twenty years the Lasaran birthrate dropped to almost nothing.”

He frowned. “It left you all infertile?”

“Only the women. And most of the females born after the epidemic are, too. Of the few who are fertile, most have been unable to carry a baby to term even with assistance. If one of our other allies didn’t possess incredible medical knowledge and hadn’t come to our aid, no children would have been born in the years since.”

Ami’s people were dying, the victims of a slow genocide. If they couldn’t produce children ...

“How long ago did this happen?”

“Almost a century.”

So Ami wasn’t just a miracle to him, she was a miracle to her people. “How old are you?”

Uncertainty darkened her features. “Forty-nine.”

His jaw dropped. “You’re forty-nine? You look like you’re twenty!” Dismay leeched away the warm contentment Ami inspired. She was already half a century old?

“You think I’m weird, don’t you? Because I was still a virgin?”

“What? No. That didn’t even enter my mind. You said yourself that intimacy is forbidden outside of marriage. And I’m assuming you’ve never been married.”

“No, I haven’t. But you look upset.”

“Aren’t you still reading my mind?”

“No.”

“Ami, the only thing that upsets me about your age is the fact that we’ll have less time together. Unless ... Can you be transformed?”

“No. Seth said it would be too dangerous because we have no idea how the virus would affect me. That’s why he told you not to bite me.”

His spirits sank.

She smiled. “But you’re wrong about how much time we’ll have. Lasarans are very long-lived.”

“How long-lived?” he asked doubtfully.

“My father is 422. My mother is 367. And their hair is just beginning to turn gray.”

Marcus couldn’t believe it. It was too good to be true. “Are you saying you could live centuries?”

“Yes.”

An elated laugh burst from him. Tightening his hold, he rolled with Ami from one side of the bed to the other until helpless giggles tickled his ears and the covers tangled about their entwined legs like a cocoon. When they came to rest, Ami stretched atop him with a grin, her hair a tangle of sunset shades.

Marcus smoothed a hand over the soft curls. “I didn’t even ask if you intended to stay,” he said, voice hushed.

She nodded, but lost her smile.

“Because you want to or because you have no other choice?”

“Before I met you,” she whispered, “I would have said it was because I have no choice.”

But now she wanted to be with him? “I interrupted you. I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Tell me the rest. Tell me what happened on Lasara.”

She slid off him and curled up on her side. Marcus rolled toward her, once more settling his face on the pillow near hers.

“The fact that there is no war on Lasara doesn’t mean we lack the technology or knowledge to wage it. We, along with our allies, rid our system of the Gathendiens and succeeded in driving them from our corner of the galaxy.”

“Good.”

“But ...”

There was always a but.

“One of our allies—the Sectas—indicated that the Gathendiens were now working their way toward your solar system.”

Just what they needed. Vampires and Gathendiens.

“The alliance debated whether or not we should warn you.”

Marcus leaned up on an elbow. “What’s to debate? Why wouldn’t you warn us?”

She nibbled her lower lip. “The Sectas have been studying your planet for many of your millennia—It was actually through them that I learned several of Earth’s languages, including English—and ...” She sat up, tugged the covers over her breasts. “Their conclusion was that humans are a primitive species that thrives on greed and violence. You appear to our allies like locusts, plowing through your planet’s resources and destroying everything in your path with no real thought or plans for the future, constantly warring with each other, wanting to conquer each other and acquire more land and wealth. True peace has never reigned on your planet as it has on ours.”

Marcus instinctively wanted to object, but ... Well, Ami had been on Earth for a couple of years now. More than enough time to have seen that low opinion confirmed.

“Though reluctant, my father and his panel of advisors ultimately agreed with our allies and decided not to warn you because you would most likely react to our sudden appearance in your world not with welcome and acceptance, but with violence and fear.”

“Yet, you’re here.”

She nodded, forced a smile. “And your people met me with violence and fear.”

“Ami.”

She shook her head. “I was so naive, Marcus. I thought the alliance was wrong. I thought you should be warned, that you would welcome our aid. And I hoped ... I thought we could help each other. The population on your planet has reached a crisis point, far exceeding what the Earth can comfortably sustain. We could turn your deserts into lush, productive farmland and help you reduce hunger. We could solve your energy crisis, eliminating entirely your need of fossil fuels and eradicating the pollution, illness, and wars they spawn. We could eradicate disease, extend your life spans, help you cultivate peace.”

“Sounds good to me. But what would you get out of it that made you take the risk?”

“Women outnumber men on your planet. I thought if the comfortable, peaceful existence of Lasarans appealed to them, some might ...”

Understanding dawned. “Agree to serve as surrogate mothers?”

“Ideally, yes. Or some might come to live on Lasara and marry our men. The Sectas are more advanced than we are in medical research and said that because humans have never been exposed to the virus, which we have extinguished all traces of now on our planet, interbreeding might result in restored fertility to later generations.”

Marcus wasn’t sure about the surrogate motherhood thing, but thought there were probably quite a few women who would be willing to travel to another planet, marry a Lasaran, and live a Utopian existence.

“Our people are so long-lived that we would survive this crisis without the aid of Earth women. But children are so rare on my planet, Marcus. We miss them. Before I came to Earth, it had been years since I had seen a child.”

“They’re that rare?”

“Yes. And I had never seen a pregnant woman,” she revealed shakily.

“Never?” he repeated, shocked.

“Pregnancy is so difficult for our women now that as soon as it is confirmed, the woman is taken to a special clinic run by the Sectas and resides there until she either miscarries or manages to deliver.”

Marcus couldn’t imagine it.

“I thought if there were even the most remote possibility that we could reach an agreement with your planet, it would be worth any risk. If nothing else, I believed the fact that we could protect you from the Gathendiens and prevent your species’ demise would ensure my presence would be welcomed. But I was wrong.”

Marcus took one of her hands, anger already rising within him in anticipation of what she would tell him next.

“I sent a signal to Earth, one I knew would be detected by the handful of your people who listened for such things. When I arrived, a meeting was arranged between myself and three of Earth’s representatives in an isolated location less likely to draw attention when my craft was uncloaked.”

“Did you come all this way alone?”

“No, I had a small crew with me, all of whom shared my hopes. They reluctantly agreed to remain on the ship while I made first contact.” She shook her head. “I thought my telepathy would ensure I wouldn’t be deceived. But, thanks to your Hollywood movies, the likelihood that I would possess such an ability had been taken into consideration.”

“What do you mean? By whom? Who agreed to meet you?”

“Seth still isn’t sure. He couldn’t tell whether the men who held me captive were military or mercenary. Darnell is the one who decrypted their files, and he suspects they were a secret branch of the government, so secret that even the president may not know about them.”

“Like in Independence Day?”

She nodded. “They chose three scientists—two men, one woman—to meet me, told them nothing of their vile intentions, so I read nothing but excitement, welcome, and curiosity in the emissaries’ minds.” She released a self-deprecating laugh. “The so-called primitive humans fooled me as easily as the advanced Gathendiens had the Lasarans. I thought the emissaries were taking me to parley with world leaders. So did they. Instead, as soon as we reached our destination, the emissaries were killed, I was captured, and, when my crew tried to withdraw at my command, my ship had to be destroyed, my friends with it.”

Murmuring her name, Marcus drew her into his arms.

“I spent the next six months in their lab, being dissected and tortured and experimented upon until Seth and David heard my silent cries and found me.”

Marcus didn’t think he had ever regretted anything as much as he did punching Seth in the face. If Seth and David hadn’t found Ami ...

His arms tightened. He pressed his lips to her hair as her tears dampened his shoulder and vowed to sit down with the two eldest immortals as soon as they returned, find out if any of Ami’s torturers still lived, then hunt the bastards down and treat them to a little bit of their own handiwork. Each and every one of them would suffer a slow, agonizing death.

“Marcus,” she said, disrupting the violent scenarios unfolding in his head, “there’s something else.” She drew back and swiped the moisture from her cheeks. “The drug the vampire king used to sedate you and the others ...”

He frowned at the change in subject. “Yes?”

“It’s the same drug the human scientists developed to incapacitate me.”

His blood turned to ice. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I recognized its scent on the darts, the feel of it when I was hit with one myself.”

Trepidation crawled through him. How had the vampire king gotten his hands on a drug a secret branch of the government had concocted to sedate an alien no one knew they had held in their possession?

Just who the hell were they up against?

Dennis prowled through the night toward Montrose Keegan’s secluded home.

The stupid egghead had chosen a good location in which to play Frankenstein. His single-story frame house hovered on the outskirts of the small town of Carrboro. Dense forest separated Keegan from his only neighbors—distant farms and pastureland—at least during the warmer months. Whoever had built the house decades ago had planted evergreens out front, which, allowed to grow unchecked and untrimmed, now formed a dense wall between the street and the house, blocking it from view.

The scent of humans filled those trees right now, alerting Dennis to the fact that he was being watched as he stalked up the long drive that was more dirt than gravel. Quite a few humans.

His stride never breaking, Dennis used his preternatural vision to pick out each and every man present. Their camouflage clothing and gear was military grade, not hunting grade. Though it blended well enough for them to elude the notice of humans, Dennis easily determined how many there were, where each was positioned, and what weapons they carried.

Foolish mortals, believing such gave them strength over him.

His fangs dropped as Dennis’s already foul mood descended deeper into a dark mire. He had had to discipline several of his men this evening. Fucking cowards. All had been trembling in their damned designer sneakers because so many of their fellow soldiers had failed to return from last night’s mission. Dennis had opted to use the three who had whispered of deserting as an example for the others, leaving quite a mess.

Anyone could be swayed and controlled by fear. His father had taught Dennis that with many a beating, then had learned the lesson himself after Dennis had been transformed and paid him a bloody visit.

An hour was all it had taken Dennis to whip his army, or what was left of it, back into shape. Those who hadn’t been stuck with cleaning up the gore now roved North Carolina and surrounding states, recruiting and replenishing their numbers.

But it still rankled. Subjects should never question their king.

A new wave of rage engulfed him.

First he’d been hit with the disrespect and incompetence of his soldiers, now this, whatever the hell this was. A bunch of human turds who thought they could lie in wait and spring some lame trap to catch whatever they thought he was. Had Montrose sold him out?

That little weasel wouldn’t dare. This was something else. Dennis just didn’t know what.

Two men in camouflage stood with automatic weapons in hand, one on either side of Montrose’s front door.

Putting on a burst of speed that he knew the humans would be unable to follow, Dennis raced up the drive and broke through the front door. As soon as he entered the dwelling, the scent of stale blood struck him.

“Montrose!” he roared, sensing Sarah’s absence, “you sorry sack of shit!”

By the time shouts erupted outside, he was down in the basement, taking in the blood streaked floor and walls of the laundry area. He continued into the lab. A man Dennis had never seen before sat at Keegan’s desk. An open laptop rested on it, connected to the video camera Dennis had set up and concealed in the trees that bordered the clearing last night.

“Who the hell are you?” Dennis barked.

“Sir?” a voice, high with anxiety, called as footsteps sounded above.

“Hold your position,” the man called back, regarding Dennis with an irritating lack of concern.

The footsteps ceased.

Infuriated by the man’s total disregard, Dennis took a step toward him and bared his fangs.

“I wouldn’t,” he said and raised the tranquilizer gun Dennis himself had used against the immortals.

Dennis laughed. “I could drain every drop of blood from your body and tear your ass apart before that drug kicked in,” he bluffed. The damned drug would drop him like a stone as soon as it was injected.

“Should you do so,” the man issued blandly, “my men have standing orders to wait for the drug to take effect, then castrate you. If what Montrose has told me is correct, you have a remarkable ability to heal wounds inflicted upon your person, but that ability does not extend as far as growing things back that have been removed.”

Dennis’s fury increased, leaving him shaking with the need to rend and tear and feed. “Who are you?”

“Your new employer. You will no longer be working for Montrose.”

Dennis would have laughed if he hadn’t been so pissed. “I never worked for Montrose. He worked for me.”

“Well, then, your situation has changed.”

Dennis grabbed the table nearest him and hurled it across the room. Paper, metal, and glass flew in all directions, shards twinkling like glitter in the lab’s overhead light. “Where is he?”

“Our friend is not doing too well, I’m afraid. A rather nasty stab wound landed him in the hospital.”

Dennis’s whole body shook with rage. “What about the woman?” His voice, low and guttural, did not sound like his own.

“The woman is why I’m here. And why you’re still alive ... if you can call it that.”

The room went red. Dennis closed his eyes, a roar exploding from him.

When he opened them again, his chest heaved with deep gasping breaths, and the room around him looked as though a typhoon had hit it. Paper and shredded binders formed a jagged carpet that sparkled with pieces of broken glass. The gurney on which he had placed the human woman last night protruded from one wall, crumpled Sheetrock buckled around it. Metal lab tables formed twisted, garbled sculptures. The only bit of furniture in the room still intact was Montrose’s desk and the chair behind it.

Beside them, the arrogant prick stood, face pale, eyes wide, fingers curled tightly around the grip of the tranquilizer gun he wielded.

A strange weakness weighted Dennis’s arms and legs, making him sway.

Frowning, he looked down. A red dart protruded from his chest.

“Sir?” an anxious voice called again from upstairs.

“H-hold your position,” the prick called back, voice unsteady. “Shit. I thought Montrose was exaggerating when he said you were crazy.”

Dennis plucked the dart out of his chest with hands that were torn up and bloody.

Apparently rage had taken control of him once more and caused the destruction around them. It happened more and more often now, but concerned him little. Most of the time he couldn’t even remember what he had done. Why cry over milk you didn’t recall spilling? And if he hurt someone while in one of his rages—as the blood that so often coated him when he came out of them indicated—well, whoever he hurt shouldn’t have pissed him off.

“Why am I still standing?” he asked, feeling sluggish, his speech slurred.

The man swallowed. “Lower dose. Does this sort of thing happen often?”

Dennis shrugged. “I haven’t fed.”

“Does feeding help you maintain control?”

Dennis sent him an evil smile. “Are you offering yourself as an entree?”

The man’s lips tightened. “Answer the question.” “Yes,” he lied.

“Herston!” he shouted, eyes glued to Dennis.

“Yes, sir,” the same voice upstairs called back.

“Join us for a moment.”

“Yes, sir.”

The man lowered his voice. “If you can disarm him, you can have him.”

Dennis eyed the man shrewdly. Maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to tear this little snot wad into tiny, ruby pieces. There could be some perks to letting him live.

Dennis slunk closer to the lab’s entrance as boots clomped down the stairs. He wasn’t at full strength, thanks to the damned drug, and didn’t want to risk missing out on a snack because he couldn’t get up a good burst of speed.

The soldier entered with a long automatic weapon clutched in his hands. “Yes, s—”

Dennis yanked the weapon from the man’s hands and threw it across the room, then struck him in the face with enough force to pulverize his nose and knock out all of his front teeth.

“Arkgh!”

While the soldier choked on blood and teeth, Dennis stepped behind him, yanked his head to one side, and sank his teeth deep into the carotid artery.

Warm blood flooded his veins, diluting the drug and healing the wounds in his hands. His eyes on the soldier’s superior, Dennis took every last drop, then let the empty corpse fall to the floor. “No objections?” he taunted, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Do you care so little for your soldiers?”

Regaining some of his former coolness, the man seated himself in the desk chair. “Every cause requires sacrifice.”

Dennis wondered how the other soldiers under this man’s command would feel if they knew how quickly he would sacrifice them for his own gains. “Why are you here?”

“As I said—”

“I don’t work for anyone.”

“I wouldn’t speak so swiftly if I were you. A partnership of sorts could prove very beneficial to us both.”

“Really?” Dennis questioned skeptically. “What can you do for me?”

“You want to be king, don’t you? Rule over your own vampire subjects?”

“I already am and do. All without your puny help.”

The man relaxed a bit, leaned back in the chair. “And how’s that going for you?” A touch of the laptop space bar set the movie on the screen into motion. Artificially brightened video of last night’s battle burst into life in slow motion, reducing the eradication of his vampire soldiers to human speeds. “Not so well, I think.”

Dennis took an irate step forward.

The gun in the man’s hand jerked.

Dennis felt a sharp sting, like that of a wasp, in his chest and yanked out another dart.

The mild weakness that plagued him worsened. His head swam. His balance faltered.

“Perhaps now you will listen,” the man said.

Dennis didn’t have much of a choice. If he gave in to the urge to rip the man’s throat out, he’d likely be hit with another dart or two in the process. And he would rather not find out if the bastard had been joking about removing his family jewels while he was out.

The man began to speak. Dennis’s curiosity increased. What the man planned, what he said he would do if Dennis joined him, was straight out of the freaking movies. Movies that centered around power-hungry military leaders who went totally off their nut and strayed far from their designated course.

Except Dennis wasn’t so sure this guy was military.

“Are you serious?” Dennis asked, leaning limply against the wall. What the man suggested tempted him. The benefits might just outweigh the irritation of having to deal with the arrogant prick. And once the arrogant prick delivered everything he promised, Dennis could always kill him and move on without him.

“Yes.”

“So, what’s in it for you? You’ve told me all you can do for me. What do want me to do for you?”

“This.” The man motioned him over.

The video of the battle sped up to normal speed. The motion of the immortals and the vampires appeared blurry and indistinct. “There.” The man hit the button bar, and the video paused. “Do you know this woman?”

Dennis considered the small, feminine figure onscreen. She had been paused in the act of swinging two katanas. One blade carved a long wound across a vampire’s side. The other blade sank into a second vampire’s arm. Her fair features, speckled with blood, bore an expression of intense determination.

Dennis could understand why she appealed so much to Roland. The chick was hot. “That’s Sarah. Sarah Bang’er.” Wait. Was her last name Bang’er or was that just the last name his men had given her? “Bang’er. Binger. Something like that.”

“Sarah Bingham?”

“Sure, why not?”

“You’re wrong.” The man opened an image file in the bottom left corner of the screen. “This is Dr. Sarah Bingham.”

Dennis stared at the attractive woman in the picture. Pale skin. Brown hair. Hazel eyes. A pretty smile. “It can’t be. Sarah Bingham is human. That woman is immortal. She was at the fight last night. She was the one who carried Roland and Bastien away to safety.” The thought of it, of their slipping from his grasp would have driven him into another violent rage if the stupid drug weren’t dulling everything.

“If she’s immortal,” the man said, “then she’s been transformed, because I assure you, this woman”—he pointed again to the photo in the corner—“is Sarah Bingham.”

Roland had transformed Sarah? What had happened to their protect humans at all cost bullshit?

Or maybe Bastien had turned her.

Dennis’s eyes narrowed as they traveled back to the frozen video. Sarah—the real Sarah—could be seen way in the back, cutting down vampires left and right. She was as hot as whoever the redheaded human chick was.

If she had only recently been turned, maybe she was a vampire. How long did it take to discover which she might be? Montrose had droned on about DNA and some other crap, but Dennis hadn’t paid attention. His only interest in immortals was in wiping them off the face of the planet and finding a way to gain their special powers.

Sarah Bingham. Dennis had never contemplated sharing his reign with a female vampire, but if Sarah ended up not being immortal ... he wouldn’t mind having her by his side. Or in his bed.

“Did you hear me?” the man asked.

Dennis sighed. Arrogant pain in the ass. “Yeah. You said the human isn’t Sarah.”

“You asked what you could do for me.” The man closed Sarah’s photo and enlarged the frozen video image until the redhead filled the screen. “Bring me this woman.”

Dennis smirked. “Online dating service not working out for you?”

The man’s expression turned glacial.

Dennis remained unfazed. “If you want her so badly, why don’t you go get her?”

“I assume you know how many men I have in the forest?”

“Yeah. Not enough.”

“You knew they were there before you arrived?”

“Way before.”

“Then you see my problem. We can’t get anywhere near her because of the immortals that surround her.”

But Dennis could. He had held her in his arms last night, brought her to this very basement. Had she not been unconscious, he would have fed from her. But he preferred blood donors—and sexual partners—who struggled and put up a fight.

“So, if I bring you this woman, this human, you’ll do everything you promised?”

“You have my word.”

Which meant jack shit. This man had probably given his word to the soldier he had fed to Dennis, too. But that didn’t matter. Dennis would best decide how to use this situation for his own benefit.

“Fine. Consider her yours.”

A triumphant smile slid across the man’s smarmy features. “Then we have a deal. Bring me an immortal, too, and I’ll sweeten it.”

Dennis nodded at the tranquilizer gun. “I’m going to need another one of those. And darts with a stronger dose.”

“I can arrange that.” Reaching into his blazer pocket, the man withdrew a cell phone and held it out. “I’ll call you when it’s ready. A number where you can contact me has been preprogrammed into it.”

Dennis pocketed the phone. “Don’t you think you should give me a name since we’re going to be partners?”

Another of those tight smiles formed. “The name’s Emrys.”