Chapter 27
Balthazar
Keeping my face impassive was a skill I’d learnt literally ages ago.
But today, it was a miracle I could perform it at all.
My fingers twitched against my chair arm, itching to break something.
All I wanted was to drop my head back, close my eyes, and take a moment.
I was immortal and could heal from illness and injury, but I wasn’t immune to fatigue.
I’d left my two lovers entangled in each other in the early hours of this morning while it was still dark.
Dav had called and informed me of yet another outbreak of the Blood Lust virus in a small town in rural France.
I’d gone straight to our operations hub, which we ran from a packing warehouse on the outskirts of London.
It took a concentrated and organised effort to coordinate a strike with my European squad leader, but the outbreak was quickly contained.
Hensen was a good vampire, and an even better warrior, and cleanup was executed in his usual efficient fashion, except that by the time we’d wrapped everything up, the night had morphed into day.
A meeting between me, as representative of the vampire nation, other supernatural leaders, and the human politicians who had the power to escalate mistrust at every political and military turn, had been necessary.
Their accusatory questions did nothing for my already frayed tolerance.
Walker acted as our official liaison and had been his usual reserved and unflappable self.
Yet, he had demanded information and asked questions on behalf of all concerned, questions that he knew I had no answers to.
As irritated as I was, I respected that he was performing a role that I would never touch.
He mediated patiently and tirelessly with the human government envoys, keeping our tenuous peace going.
His role was vital, and his long-lived experience in political machinations was necessary for keeping the peace, though I wondered how long even he could manage to perform such a job, especially when my own tolerance for their accusations and threats of retaliation was nebulous at best. I’d silently listened to the final threats of escalation against the vampire nation, nodded my respect at Walker and left, and I didn’t give a rat’s arse whether they liked my unresponsiveness.
My focus was on finding those who’d started this war by developing the virus in the first place.
I would rip them apart and destroy everything they stood for.
Part of me hoped they’d at least managed to develop an antidote, though my own extensive labs hadn’t yet.
Devoting my time to hunting down the source of the Blood Lust virus didn’t detract from the fact that some enemy factions were using technology to hack into our banks and businesses.
Those covens of Mades fought an altogether more clandestine war against the Original vampires.
They didn’t care that it was affecting the world economy.
On top of that, I had to deal with the political aspects of our relationship with all other races.
In their eyes, the vampire race had started the slaughter, and it didn’t matter to them if it was Originals or Mades who’d developed that damned virus.
Not only was the virus causing mass deaths and subsequent executions of the carriers, it was also destabilising relations enough to force humans and supernaturals into a war.
I was under no illusions why. If the Mades succeeded in stirring up further conflict, Stefan would be removed from power.
Not because humans could end the entire vampire race, but because they could kill enough Original vampires that the Mades outnumbered us.
The digital destruction of wealth and influence would cement that shift in the power balance, and any remaining Original vampires would be stripped of control.
The whole damned world would degenerate into chaos.
It didn’t help that Stefan’s continued illness made him weak in the eyes of the vampire community as a whole.
His frailty was only compounding the problems surrounding politics and war.
There was no cure in sight for whatever ailed him, and his son was a mere boy, too young to rule with any authority.
I would help him, just as I had always helped his father, but it would be too long and bloody a time until he was able to take his seat on the throne.
I stretched my neck, shut out my thoughts of war, and tried to curb my growing irritation at the lesser vampire who droned on about the boundaries of his human blood distribution network and how his rivals were encroaching.
It didn’t work. Instead, I just fantasised about ripping his throat out.
I broke my preternatural stillness, my voice like the crack of a gun, making the vampire stumble backwards a few steps.
“Enough! My second will send men to mediate the distribution boundaries with you and your rival.”
The lesser gulped loudly, then stupidly opened his mouth to argue.
“Leave. Now.” My stonily delivered words were enough to send him scurrying away. I glanced at Dav, who nodded. He’d sort it out.
The snivelling pissant disappeared through the door of the club, and I let my shoulders fall, releasing a breath as relative silence fell.
My guards knew better than to speak. Yet my moment of tranquility was interrupted before it had truly begun.
The doors squeaked as they were thrown open and banged noisily against the wall.
My posture remained relaxed, but my gaze tracked the newcomer’s progress.
I inhaled. This visitor was already giving off a scent of fear.
He should be scared; he’d walked, without invitation, into my territory.
I’d deal with the guards who’d allowed this later, though perhaps that would be unnecessary.
The sounds of death reached me from beyond the doors.
They had killed this vampire’s entourage already, and were leaving this one for me. As it should be.
Keeping my baser side in check, I tracked the intruder’s progress.
His designer shoes clicked on the floor, the sound somehow ominous in the silence of the club.
His dark, impeccable suit seemed to blend with the shadows that followed him as he approached me.
He used a walking cane that was clearly not necessary, but, as he stopped and moved it in his grip, it did the job he wanted.
Stefan’s unique family crest gleamed back at me, its message understood.
This was a messenger of the crown, and such things were never to be taken lightly.
I huffed a silent breath. Perhaps I would forgive Stefan his trespass against my lands—perhaps not.
Dav straightened from his relaxed posture against the wall.
His eyes were narrowed, alight with interest and no small amount of suspicion, as the vampire continued towards me.
The man’s hair was dark and neat, his obsidian eyes gleaming with red as only an Original’s did in this low light.
But it wasn’t the messenger himself who held my attention; it was the shadows at his back.
I remained silent and watchful as the aristocratic prick stopped in front of my throne, Elliot blocking his tall and elegant form from climbing onto the dais. He looked up, managing to appear supercilious even as my gaze speared him from above.
“Good afternoon, Count Rossi.”
I didn’t deign to answer. He was a stranger to me, which told me all I needed to know about Stefan’s message, that he was angry I’d ignored his summons to bring Shane to his court, and that I wasn’t worthy of one of his senior court members.
It was interesting indeed that Stefan’s mind was in such a place that he thought he could threaten me into any kind of action.
The man’s lips tilted marginally to the side.
The mockery of a smile belied the tension around his eyes, as did the flick of his thumb over the silver skull and double heart crest on the cane.
That old symbol always gave me pause. It was a reminder of the past, of the most powerful family of Originals that had ever ruled.
One that I had vowed to protect—always—except when they disrespected me.
I stared coldly at my visitor. Silence settled around the room like a heavy, suffocating blanket. None of my men reacted. I certainly didn’t. I was playing with my food. The scent of fear became cloying. Almost as if it wasn’t coming just from him.
Interesting.
Outwardly arrogant, this messenger was inwardly a scared little mouse. And I was the cat. If I’d had any kind of heart left, I would feel sorry for him. This task was a death sentence, and it seemed he knew it.
“I come as an envoy to the king. He commands you…”
Before he could start his next word, I was before him, my fingers curled tightly around his neck, my nails piercing his skin. He dropped the cane and reached for my hand, but it was to no avail. Without another thought, I separated his head from his shoulders and threw the body sideways.
So much for playing with my prey. Perhaps I was wound a little more tightly than I thought. Blood dripped from my hand, and I stepped away to avoid the mess running towards my shoes. I could make myself spotless with the magic I commanded, but for once, it felt good to have blood bathe my skin.
Dav sauntered forward. “Here.” He passed me a damp, black hand towel. “The others that were with them are also dead.”
I nodded my thanks. “Good.” I continued to clean the blood from my hands. “You can show yourself now.”