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Chapter 1
Zander was not one for these kinds of places, to be honest, but his client was hard to reach. The man had just come off a three-week business trip, wanted nothing more than to relax, and refused to meet Zander anywhere but here. Since Zander wanted that real estate contract sooner rather than later, here it was.
Even if ‘here’ was a blood auction house.
By the rules of human and vampire society, auction houses were perfectly legal. Humans could choose to sell themselves—with strict contracts outlining what their new owners could and could not do to them. The contracts ranged anywhere from one to five years.
Personally, Zander was not the type to pay for either blood or sex, thank you very much. Vampires who liked to buy their food treated their humans as just that—food and amusement. It left a bad taste in Zander’s mouth. Maybe because he was new to vampire culture, he had a more modern take.
He settled at the booth with Sakda and handed him the leather folio with the contract inside.
“What, not even a hello?” Sakda drawled, kicking back in the round booth with an amused smile. Sakda was from an older generation, turned in his forties or so from appearances, a hint of crow’s feet around his eyes.
“You made me chase you all the way here,” Zander retorted mildly. “Please sign the contract before I lose all patience.”
“All right, fair. I thought you might want to participate since you’re here.”
“No, thank you. I want to go home and lounge in front of a TV. I’ve earned it.”
“Your choice.” Shrugging, Sakda pulled the contract toward him and grabbed a pen from his pocket.
The stage at the front of the room lit up, calling the audience’s attention. Vampires at the myriad of small tables scattered around the main floor glanced up and, depending on their interest, either kept watching or went back to their conversations.
Zander almost ignored the stage as well, but as he readied to leave, he saw something from the corner of his eye that drew his attention back again.
Now that was a very beautiful man.
He was dressed in jeans and a white button-down, nothing sexy about his clothing. Truly a cute man, even with his posture so tense and stiff. His dark brown hair was casually swept back, framing dark brown eyes set in a too pale face. He stood tall under the stage lights, looking blindly ahead, expression blank. Zander tried to guess his age. Nineteen, perhaps? No more than twenty, surely.
The auctioneer started off in a smooth voice, rattling off facts. “Ladies, gentlemen, and gentlefolk, we have here a blood slave for auction—”
Tsk. Why must they use that antiquated term? It struck Zander all wrong.
“—who is offering a one-year contract, standard terms apply. Max is a nineteen-year-old architecture student, untouched by vampires. Who will start the bidding?”
He’s shaking, Zander realized. Max’s expression showed nothing, but his hands shook as he gripped them tightly. He was clearly scared and trying not to show it.
What the hell had forced Max’s hand to auction himself? Unlike most humans who sold themselves, he didn’t seem to be doing it for a thrill, or a kink, or any pleasant reason. He was likely the type who fell into the second category: desperation.
The price was already at half a million and rising by the second. Zander watched Max’s face and something in him stirred. Pity? Interest? He didn’t know. He couldn’t put a finger on it. All he knew was that he could not trust any other vampire with this human.
“Sakda.” Zander didn’t take his eyes off Max.
“What?”
“You got a bidding token?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Registered to you?”
“Not yet, I wasn’t sure if I was going to bid tonight.”
“Let me have it.”
Sakda snorted. “Didn’t you just say you weren’t into this kind of thing?”
“I’m not, but I won’t leave here without him. Token, quickly.”
