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He shook his head. The surprise had almost cost him his life. One of the vamps had come close to slitting his throat. His instincts had taken over, his body moving in that timeless dance he’d perfected since childhood.
The fight had been easy. Even though they’d outnumbered him five to one, none had been older than three centuries. They hadn’t wished to fight him.
Nobody did.
They should’ve thought of that before murdering the woman and dumping her body in the desert. Making matters worse for themselves, they’d tried to run and cover up their crime. The Trackers had dragged them back to Vegas kicking and screaming.
If they hadn’t run, they would only be staked to the ground for five decades, a wooden stake in the shoulder and one in the heart. The stakes wouldn’t kill them, but the agony would be unbearable as they bled out. After somewhere between two weeks to a month, depending on the vampire, their bodies would shut down from lack of resources and they would enter a sleep like the dead, at which point they would no longer feel the pain. After fifty years, Julian would send someone to remove the stakes and wake them.
But they had run, leaving themselves no choice but to fight Julian or die. If one of them had killed him, they would’ve been free. Free to leave Vegas. Free until they broke the law again.
Lately, Julian had begun wishing for one of them to win, but another part of him, the part that had struggled to survive for a thousand years, protested. If he were to die in a fight, it would be against someone worthy. Another Ancient, maybe. He would not be killed by baby vamps who hadn’t even seen their third century.
As Julian stepped out of the shower, he scented the same warmth as earlier. He must be imagining it. After being cold for so long, his mind was craving what he couldn’t have. At his age, he might be close to losing his mind.
He should speak with Alistair, their King. Request a break. A few centuries aground should fix him. When he rose again, the world would be completely different. A new world might relieve his boredom and make him care again about something.
Before that, however, he had to ensure the city survived the Gathering. He wanted to kill Alistair for inviting the humans. Even though humans were now aware of their existence, Julian didn’t see why they couldn’t have continued to hold the Gathering in the Ural Mountains with only vampires. The Gathering was for them to resolve ongoing issues between the vampire Houses and discuss items the Council deemed important.
Humans had no place in the Gathering.
He would have his hands full with vampires running wild in Vegas. Humans only added fuel to the fire. The older ones, including the Ancients and the Council, Julian didn’t worry about. It was the young ones who still suffered the craving for blood that concerned him. It wouldn’t do for a baby vamp to drain a human diplomat to death, even accidentally.
Just the thought of that political nightmare gave him a headache.
Scowling, he dressed, cursing Alistair again for the unfathomable orders. At his desk, he pulled up the profile of the woman he was about to meet.
Leah Davis. Age twenty-eight. Just finished her MA in Communications at Stanford. Graduated top of her class. Served as the Assistant Director of Communications for Senator Padwanik’s office. An impressive résumé, but nothing Julian hadn’t seen before. With her brunette hair framing the heart-shaped face and the striking hazel eyes, she no doubt turned heads wherever she went.
The last thing he needed was an attractive human woman in the building. He would’ve gone with a middle-aged man until Alistair divulged that Leah was a spy for the Organization of Benevolent Mercy, the secret underground group whose stated goal was to destroy vampires. That had piqued Julian’s interest, when nothing interested him anymore, not since a hundred years ago when Alistair revealed their existence to humans.
When Alistair had all but demanded he hire Leah, he’d complied. The Vampire King had never paid much attention to the Organization that had been a thorn in his side for as long as vampires had existed, so why the sudden interest now?
Though Julian had known Alistair for a thousand years, he could never quite figure out the vampire who had turned him. Although they all had their secrets, the Ancients like him especially, none kept their thoughts as guarded as Alistair, the first one of their kind.
Julian couldn’t imagine living as long as Alistair had. No one knew his age. Alistair had never taken the time off to go aground and rest. He’d always been there, a constant in the world that changed continually around him.
A beep sounded from his desk. Tristan, Vegas' artificial intelligence, announced in an electronic voice, “Sir, Clement is here with Miss Davis.”
“Good. I’ll be there in a sec.”
Julian turned off the screen and strode to his main office, which was connected to his living quarters through a door only he had access to. His thoughts swirled around Leah.
She looked innocent enough in the photo, her gaze devoid of the fanaticism he associated with those in the Organization. Was she just another one of those unfortunate souls that fell into the Organization’s greedy grasp? Doing what she did because she had no other choice?
Or was she a master at hiding her true feelings? Did she believe the Organization’s propaganda that vampires need to be destroyed because they were the spawn of Satan?
What did it matter? She was one of them, belonging to the group of people bent on eradicating his race.
End of story.
When Julian entered his office and laid eyes on the woman, nothing could have prepared him for the fire, the punch in the gut desire that stopped him in his tracks.
Thud. Something foreign knocked against his chest. His breath rushed out of him.
Thud. There it was. Again.
His heart. It was beating.
