Chapter 8
Hours of a bickering Council and a hunger for blood that would not abate, no matter how much he pushed it aside, threatened to ruin his day further.
Caster rubbed at his eyes as he listened to his Head of Populations and Head of Security argue about what to do with the witch once they had her.
His uncle Mason, his mother’s younger brother, wanted her executed on sight.
Damien wanted her interrogated to find out where her immense power comes from.
“If we don’t understand her power, what’s to keep all of this from happening again, in the future?” Damien seemed as agitated as he felt.
“She’s too powerful to contain,” Mason said, rising from his seat. “This is Riley’s idea, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and he’s right.” Caster didn’t need to raise his voice to end the argument.
They needed to understand how she’d become so powerful if they had any hope of stopping her or preventing another witch from using the same power.
That she used dark magic was not in dispute, yet no one, not even Riley, could figure out its source.
The rest of the council joined the argument, a chorus of agreements and disagreements blending into a melody, tearing at the last of his control.
He’d only been in charge of the council for the last three decades, but already, he hated this part of the job.
Still, he understood the need for varied opinions and a consensus.
He’d had enough when the bickering continued. Careful not to break another chair this time, Caster rose from his seat and sighed. The members of the council all stood as he left the room without another word.
His youngest brother, Benjamin, was there when he walked into his spacious study a few minutes later.
Ben smiled at him, and some of his exhaustion dissipated. “Hey.”
He sat behind his desk. “Is everything OK?” Caster knew his brother well enough to know something was not right about that smile. His green eyes, whose color had been intensified by the Change, held something Caster could never reach.
He pushed his hands into his pockets. “I’m fine.”
The tiny, almost imperceptible change in his heartbeat gave him away. As a Made-Vampire, Ben had to learn the art of concealing one’s emotions, and although he was close, he had yet to master it two centuries after Caster’s parents adopted him into the royal family.
Caster opened his mouth to call him on his lie, but Ben beat him to it. “I need to go out.”
“No!”
His voice rose. “Please… I’ll be with Cole and Mikey and…”
Caster tried to restrain his anger. “The witch is out there somewhere.” He held up a hand to forestall his brother’s argument. “Think of what it would do to Mother if something happened to you. What it would do to me.”
He hated himself for using their mother to win an argument, but he wasn’t about to lose his baby brother.
Ben groaned. “You let Cy go…”
Their brother Cyrus was a world traveler and, unlike Ben, well capable of taking care of himself. He also traveled with a contingent of Born-Vampire guards. Ben hated the idea of being followed and pulled every trick to lose his bodyguard.
Caster leaned back into his seat, his muscles begging him for nourishment. “Where do you need to go?”
Ben’s face brightened. “A party at Cole’s house. We won’t even leave the country.”
“Does Riley know about this?”
Ben frowned. “I don’t need his permission.”
Caster had long learned not to touch the subject of Riley and Ben’s contentious relationship with a ten-foot pole. Still, the only way he’d let his brother go is if he had protection. “Take Kyle.”
“What? No. He’ll just ruin—”
“You’re not going without Kyle. If something happens to you or the Prime Alpha’s baby brother, I’ll have a big mess I don’t need right now. You take Kyle, or you don’t go.” His long-serving bodyguard was the only other person he could trust to keep his brother safe.
Ben huffed. “Fine.”
“And, be back today. No partying for days. If Cole keeps you longer than twenty-four hours, I will rip him to shreds.”
Ben laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“Riley said the same thing.”
“So, you did ask him?”
Ben rolled his eyes and turned to leave. “Caster?”
“Yes…”
“You don’t look so good.” Then he was gone, leaving the sound of the heavy door closing to punctuate his accurate assessment.
Caster didn’t need to look in the mirror to know he looked terrible. Vampires didn’t need much sleep. A few hours did the trick, but in the past three days, he hadn’t had a chance to get a minute of rest. It had been almost a week since his last intake of fresh blood, and his body craved it.
Sleep he could do nothing about, but nourishment was within reach. He notified Kyle of his new assignment. His younger brother would find it hard to pull his usual disappearing act on a more experienced Kyle.
Certain his brother would be as safe as can be with a rogue, unstable witch on the loose, Caster reached out to Damien.
Are you done with the Council?
You do know that leaving your Council alone is not what your father had in mind, right? Damien’s demeanor through the telepathic communication was calmer than the chaos he’d walked out on.
Anything new happen while I was gone?
No. What do you need?
Leave it to his cousin to always get to the point.
Damien and his two brothers had grown up in his father’s house.
Their father and the King were twins, but their striking resemblance was the only thing they had in common.
Uncle Lucien was a terrible parent, neglecting his three boys after their mother’s death.
Caster’s mother had taken them in, raising them as her own.
Nourishment.
Give me a moment. I’ll meet you there?”
Caster nodded. Bring Julian. I had to reassign Kyle. Julian was Damien’s personal guard. A brute of a Born-Vampire who’d saved their lives more than once during the war.
Do I need to ask?
He’s going with Ben and Cole.”
Aah. All right, we’ll be there.
§
As soon as he walked into the club, Caster regretted the choice.
The lack of proper nourishment that only fresh blood could provide and the banging sound from the speakers threatened to tear his head open.
He paused at the entrance and nodded at the bouncer, who stepped aside without a word.
While the owner and employees at the club remained unaware of vampires, they were compensated well enough to roll out the red-carpet treatment whenever he and Damien visited.
The scent of sweat permeated the crowded room.
At least three hundred humans occupied the small space, and although he didn’t relish having to shoulder past them crossing the dancefloor to the VIP room he’d requested, he had to if he would get what he came for.
But first, he needed the right kind of prey.
Caster paused by the bar and took a deep breath, focusing his senses on the humans around him, looking for a particular sound. The noise of hundreds of heartbeats battled for his attention, and he dismissed most of them, searching for the one that would be a match for his desires.
He zeroed in on the staccato of a mixture of fear and curiosity at the end of the bar and closed his eyes to further narrow his hearing.
The sound of everything else around him, even the loud club banger, faded away as he focused on the single heartbeat.
It was an amazing feat, one that required centuries of practice.
He opened his eyes to see a human male leaning against the bar, talking to someone who was obscured by the writhing crowds.
His demeanor was pseudo-confident. He looked casual enough, but there was a bit of insecurity.
Caster watched his mouth move and drew his attention from the steady beat of his heart to catch the last few words. “… it’s really hot in here…”
His voice was a dead giveaway. He was insecure, out of place, and was that an American accent?
Perfect. Far enough away from home that no one would come looking for a while, should anything go wrong.
Not that it would. Caster hadn’t killed a human during feeding for centuries.
Another thing only practice could prevent.
The distance and the flashing colors kept the young male’s hair an indecipherable color.
As if he could sense Caster’s eyes on him, he turned to face him, and their eyes met in the light-inspired darkness.
Caster heard a change in his heartbeat before the human smiled and shifted his gaze to his shoes.
Caster sucked in a deep breath. A submissive.
He hadn’t been hoping for it, not today.
Keeping an eye on his prey for the night, Caster made his way to his side.
As he got closer, he allowed the young man’s racing heartbeat to permeate his senses, and he took a deep breath.
The unmistakable scent of his blood filled Caster’s lungs, and he had to stifle a groan.
Once within touching distance, the human raised his gaze, but only to Caster’s chest. He smiled.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
A jump in his heart rate, and a glance at his face, followed by an enthusiastic nod.
Caster reached for his chin, using his hold to grant him subtle permission to look him in the eye.
Blue eyes met his, and Caster began the subtle infiltration of his mind.
Slow seduction was preferable, but he was in a hurry, and compulsion would have to do.
“I’m in VIP. Would you like to come back there? ”
He glanced at his companion, and Caster followed his gaze to see an attractive woman glaring at him.
He ignored her. “She can come too.” She looked like she might be Damien’s type.
“No.” The woman’s voice interrupted Caster’s latest attempt to listen in on his chosen prey’s shifting emotions. Calm replaced fear the longer Caster’s influence permeated his psyche.
The young man started to argue, but his friend waved her hand. “You go. I have to meet Peter and the girls anyway.”
The young man nodded, and his friend disappeared into the crowd. His heartbeat signaled a bit of fear, but when Caster held out his hand, he didn’t hesitate, falling further under the spell of Caster’s gradual compulsion.
He led him through the crowd to his reserved VIP room.
Here, they would have much-needed privacy.
Away from the colored lights, Caster took in his companion’s features.
Blond hair framed a perfect face, accentuated by deep-blue eyes.
But it was his full lips that were most enticing. Caster had plans for those lips.
But first… “What’s your name?”
His gaze was unfocused, his mind under Caster’s full control. His answer automatic. “Nick.”
“Nicholas.” Caster sat on one of the couches lining the room. “Take off that jacket. You must be hot.”
It was a test Nick passed as he shrugged out of his leather jacket to reveal a T-shirt that molded to his modest muscles. His submissiveness meant Caster didn’t need to exert full control over his mind. He was a conscious, willing participant. Too curious to run.
Caster patted the spot next to him and once again had to restrain a groan of approval when Nick obeyed without question.
This close to him, Caster could hear the blood coursing through his veins, but they were a long way from that. The door opened, and his usual waitress entered. She took their drink orders, promising to return in a few minutes.
“You’re American.”
Nick nodded. “Yes. I’m just visiting.”
“Vacation?” Caster couldn’t resist touching his hair, pushing the longer strands behind his ear to reveal his pulsing carotid.
Nick’s breath caught as Caster’s fingers brushed his neck. “No. I was visiting a friend.”
Caster leaned in, filled his lungs with the unique scent of his blood, and placed a kiss on the pulsing artery.
Nick moaned and grabbed Caster’s thigh.
“Do you want me?” The scent of Nick’s arousal mixed in with the allure of his blood was answer enough, but Caster needed his explicit consent.
“Yes.” His voice was a tiny whisper that Caster almost missed, his focus drowning in the rushing sound of his blood.
He placed his thumb on the artery, the pumping blood throbbing through it tickling his skin. “Look at me.”
The submissive in Nick obeyed with little hesitation.
Caster’s hand closed around his neck as he drew him closer. The first touch of their lips was a glance at best. But when Nick opened his mouth with all the eagerness of a needy submissive, Caster took full advantage, deepening the kiss.
The rush of his blood in Caster’s ears drowned out the muffled sounds of Nick’s pleasure. He pulled him onto his lap without breaking the kiss and reached for his belt. Caster pulled away for a second, ready to stamp out any sign of hesitation, only to find total surrender.
Nick threw his head back as soon as Caster’s hand closed around his cock. His lips found his prize again, and Nick tilted his head further to give him access. It was not necessary to bring his prey pleasure before feeding, but Caster preferred his blood infused with pleasure hormones.
Unaware he gave himself over to a predator, Nick’s moans increased with each passing second. He was close, and Caster obliged his unvoiced request to stroke faster. As his heartbeat crossed the threshold of unimaginable pleasure, Caster’s fangs lengthened and pierced his carotid.
Nick’s body jerked in his arms as Caster drank deep, the unique taste of Nick filling his taste buds, his blood mixing in with his own to cause a rush of power.
He held on to his prey tighter as the orgasm tore through his body, Nick’s moans filling the room, yet all Caster allowed himself was the effect of the fresh blood.
It permeated every cell, infusing him with strength.
He hummed his pleasure as he continued to take it in, regaining his vigor and control.
A few more pulls and Nick’s muscles relaxed in his hold.
It was time to stop. He pulled his fangs out and kept a tight hold on his slack form as Nick all but collapsed into his arms, his head on Caster’s shoulder.
Caster reveled in the nourishment the blood provided.
He punctured his thumb and rubbed the blood on the puncture wounds on Nick’s neck, the healing essence in every vampire’s blood repairing the damage his fangs had inflicted.
He laid Nick’s unconscious form on the couch next to him and straightened his clothes.
Only then did he notice the drinks he’d ordered and a smirking Damien sitting across from him.
“Couldn’t wait?” his cousin asked, his smile growing.
Caster shrugged, grabbed his drink, and took a sip. The over-priced whisky was bland compared to the rich blood pumping through his body. He glanced at Nick. Perhaps he would compel him to stay. The prospect of hunting again in a few days wasn’t appealing. Unlike Damien, he didn’t enjoy the chase.