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Chapter One
Vampires kept office hours.
Cortana held hers precisely two to four a.m. every day, no exceptions. If a petition for off-hours was sent, it had to be done at least twenty-four hours in advance, with preference given to those submitted well before the deadline.
Last minute changes in schedule were seldom accommodated—and only if the House or her immortal inhabitants were in immediate danger or Drake personally requested them.
Cortana loathed them.
Her schedule was her everything: it structured her day, prioritized her work, and organized her tasks. Without it, she’d be twiddling her thumbs in her office, waiting for the next disaster to strike.
Hard pass.
Between the recurring ‘heads down’ time scheduled on her calendar and the administration tasks for blood supply that ran every other day like clockwork, Cortana had been approached by Amala—one of the House’s oldest residents. The centuries-old vampire had gotten bored with her career as a surgeon at the teaching hospital nearby and wanted a change. Cortana had scheduled a meeting with Amala to discuss her options.
She’d included Toni because the Elemental had asked for additional responsibility, and it’d been a professional courtesy. Three hours ago, Toni had invited them along to a Broadway show instead.
There was no way Cortana could waste a night in the theatre when more than ten unopened emails were still sitting in her inbox. She’d declined, and Amala and Toni had gone together. They’d come back only minutes ago, arm in arm, raving about how incredible it’d been.
For the first time in ages, Amala’s gaze hadn’t been shadowed with apathy—she’d been beaming and laughing. The woman appeared to have a new lease on life. Toni had been right—the vampire didn’t need another meeting. She’d simply needed fun. Cortana barely knew the meaning of the word.
Staring at the digital clock in the corner of her computer screen, time seemed to slip away. As the numbers ticked on, slowly changing from eight to nine and then to ten p.m., she gradually realized one thing. She needed a change, but unlike Amala, she wouldn’t find it in New York. She’d lived in the D’Ancouer House for centuries, and the city no longer held her sway.
Over the years, the plot of land she called home had had many faces. It’d been a one-story homestead in the first years of colonization, then it became a colonial style home before being renovated. Only in the last hundred years had it developed to what it’d become today. Towering fifty-four floors above the streets of Manhattan, the inky black skyscraper bore little resemblance to its humble beginnings—but then who did.
Cortana put down her pen and closed her laptop. An uneasy feeling began to spin in her gut—and it wasn’t because she was leaving her office before her work was complete. Already, her mind was made up, and she knew what it’d take.
Leaving the offices, she strode through the lobby, eyes downcast while she pondered her next steps. Questions were murmured in her wake, though she paid them no mind. Her every attention was focused on what she’d ask of her sire.
Four centuries she’d been devoted to the eight-hundred-year-old vampire who had changed her into the immortal predator she was today. He functioned as a figurehead for the immortal society, and she’d served him in any professional capacity he required.
Three years ago, that had changed.
Drake had fallen head-over-heels in love with a young Elemental, and she’d become the center of his universe. With the dramatic shift in his priorities, Cortana’s sire had pulled back from the vampire council that’d once ruled his every waking moment. The ancient vampire had become more compassionate, connecting with the people of his House, and assuming more of the daily functions that Cortana had previously controlled. She was no longer his right hand and second—these days, she was more like his administrative assistant.
A metallic chime signaled her arrival on the fifty-fourth floor, the doors parting to allow her entrance to the tastefully decorated penthouse. Not waiting for an invitation, she marched toward her sire’s office, knowing he’d be deep into council business even at this early hour.
Three hesitant knocks earned a casual summons from beyond the door.
A wide smile warmed Drake’s features the moment she entered. Classically handsome, the vampire rose from his chair to all six-foot-four of his daunting height, the light accentuating his straight nose and chiseled jawline.
Studying her as he made his way around the desk, his brow furrowed beneath raven-black hair. “What’s wrong, Cortana?”
Her gaze dipped to the floor, anxiety twisting through her chest. Words that’d lingered on her tongue suddenly failed her.
“Cortana.”
The note of concern in Drake’s voice crashed through her walls like a battering ram. Regardless of her past misdeeds, her sire’s paternal affection had never failed her. Lifting her chin, Cortana made herself say the words. “I need a change, sire.”
No trace of surprise widened his eyes. He’d noticed. Of course he had.
Drake softened, gesturing for her to sit across from his desk. “I know you do. Sit with me and let’s talk.”
And so it was, two hours later, that she’d boarded his private jet and was traveling toward the mountains. Subtle turbulence shifted her within her seat, but her attention was on her upcoming task—and the hasty itinerary she’d put together. Drake had thrown her a bone, knowing she needed a change of scenery—or company, perhaps—and saw fit to assign her to a reconnaissance mission with a pack of werewolves in Estes Park, Colorado.
Though it wouldn’t have been her first choice, Cortana’s need to combat her current ennui and lack of purpose had swayed her to say yes.
And if the mission afforded her the opportunity to take down the immortals’ archenemies, then she’d jump on the bandwagon, no matter which horses were pulling the carriage.
