Benedict recoiled at the vampyre’s wildness, but leaned forward and tipped the flask just out of reach, letting a generous portion spill onto the deck. The vampyre strained his head forward, moaning in a lewd way that turned my cheeks red as he lapped at the blood that soaked quickly into the wood.
Benedict quickly pulled away. “What or who is Veskor?”
The vampyre panted, eyes closed as the blood went through his system. His eyes snapped open, a little less red, and his manner more controlled. “Like you. A dragon man.”
Nerissa flinched. Benedict nearly dropped the flask. Ronan and Kieran gasped next to me. Drakens were popping up like rats.
“Another draken!” Nerissa and Benedict both exclaimed at the same time.
The vampyre reached out toward the flask pathetically.
“Answer all my questions to my satisfaction, and the entire flask is yours,” Benedict offered.
The vampyre couldn’t nod fast enough.
“Tell us everything about Veskor,” Nerissa deadpanned.
“Veskor is old. He wants a mate. He cannot find the island with the other dragons. We know more about the island than he does. We help, tell him if there is a way in, we get the blood.”
Benedict tossed the flask which the vampyre greedily devoured, making obscene noises as he gulped it down and tried to shove his tongue into the narrow opening, intent on getting every last drop.
We turned away, trying to ignore him.
“Just how many fucking drakens are out there?” Benedict grit out, a touch of desperation in his voice.
Nerissa sighed. “You lot do go feral without a mate. I’ve read it's due to the dragon blood. I’m thinking it’s why Anar left.”
Benedict looked lost. I wrapped my arms around his waist the best I could with my bump.
“Probably another stray, like my mate,” Nerissa mumbled. “Scattered to the winds through chance and trying to get home.”
She shot a look at Benedict, who nodded. Before I could blink, she raised her short sword and removed the vampyre’s head from his shoulders. The pathetic creature didn’t see it coming, his happy smile still on his face as the flask dropped from his fingers. His head rolled across the wooden planks, face still twisted in an expression of bliss with Benedict’s blood staining his lips.
“Toss them,” Kieran grunted, and Benedict and Ronan moved to help toss the bodies overboard. Rather than float on top of the water, feminine hands with claws seized them and dragged them down, down, down.
Meruse was pragmatic, at least.
When I finally looked back toward the sea, the water was no longer still. Red bloomed across the waves.
Ronan’s hand closed around mine. “It’s better this way.”
I turned on him, fire rising unbidden beneath my skin. “Better?”
He didn’t answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the distant ship as the sea around it ran red. If peace looked like this, maybe we’d never known it at all.
Chapter Six
RONAN
I’d never been on a boat before. I glanced around, fascinated by the intricate wood carving in the railings, the dozens of sails, and the knots tied in seemingly chaotic ways.
Of course, that was nothing to the bombshell just dropped by the vampyre. The implications were startling.
“Do you think Anar’s note could have been from this Veskor?” I asked Nerissa, my mind already spinning with possibilities as it tried to connect every imaginable scenario.
Benedict grumbled. “Maybe.”
No doubt he had badly wanted Thad to be the villain in this story. He always did. He would have loved an excuse to fly out beyond Aldur’s wall and rip the black draken a new asshole, and happily take Xana back to Lyoness.
