Chapter 4 #2
“I would’ve made the same call.” Marco’s head tilted, eyes narrowing. “What happened when you found her?”
“Lost my fucking mind. But just for a moment.”
“And now?”
“I’m fine. I can control myself.” He’d always had a weakness for amplifiers. His second knew it. “And you, Marco?”
“She’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever smelled.” Laurent tensed. “Don’t worry, Sire, I won’t touch her. None of your older family would dare.”
They knew what happened to those who disobeyed his command. His regime had never been soft. You couldn’t keep a house alive with softness.
“We used to hunt them down and round them up like trophies,” Laurent mused, mind tripping over the past. For the second time tonight, he felt that little prick of guilt. “They were merely cards to be played at the earliest convenience. The house with the best hand won.”
“Until we hunted them to extinction.”
Laurent shrugged. “It was easy to ignore the obvious.”
“We are a greedy bunch.”
“No one stops to consider fleeting resources when power is at stake.”
He’d been the worst of them, burning through more amplifiers than any other vampire in existence. Twenty-nine over the centuries. Each one had given him exactly what he needed—a surge of power that lasted days, sometimes a week. Each one had died in the process.
He’d spent years researching ways to keep them alive, tried forcing himself to stop mid-feed, even enlisted other vampires to physically intervene. Nothing had worked. Once amplified, he became too strong for anyone to stop.
The choice had been straightforward then: temporary power in exchange for a life. Until two centuries ago, when word reached him that someone had been successful where he’d failed. “Nemati found a way to do it.”
Marco snorted. “Yes, Nemati managed to keep his amplifier alive, and look where he ended up?”
“Desiccated?” Laurent’s brows lifted.
“Only because they captured his amplifier and bled him dry of secrets. You’re not going down that road.”
Laurent lifted a shoulder. “These are different times.”
“You’re not going down that road,” Marco repeated. “It isn’t worth it. You hold more secrets than anyone, except, perhaps, Bardanes.”
He scoffed. “Val Bardanes can go fuck himself.”
“You’re not going down that road, Sarkas!”
“Saying it three times doesn’t make it law,” Laurent drawled. “And anyway, we’ve got more pressing matters that concern us. Hassan’s blood was at that party tonight.”
Marco jolted. “What?! You’re certain? Did you—?”
“I tasted it to confirm, yes. And no, I didn’t get enough to get answers. A few memories lingered from his days on the streets in Marcian, centuries ago.”
“Fuck.” Marco expelled a long breath. “So, this is our target then? This dealer? Kath’ur?”
“This is our target.” His fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the desk.
“And Hassan?”
“I couldn’t discern if he was still alive. I didn’t get enough blood for that.”
Marco leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “Can we get more?”
“I don’t know.”
“If we have enough, we’re bound to come across a memory of something recent, perhaps the location where he’s being held? Something that explains what happened? Answers?”
“He’s been missing two weeks. I have prepared myself for the worst.”
“You owe it to him—“
“I fucking know!” he roared, surging to his feet, hesitating, then walking to the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a drink, shooting it back. “I know.” His voice came out quieter this time. His control was slipping.
If they lost Hassan, it would be like losing Lio all over again. He knew better by now. And yet…
“What do you need?” Marco rose to his feet.
“Go back to the party.” He glanced at the clock. “See if you can track Kath’ur’s scent. Reach out to our contacts. Bribe them, if you must. Get more blood, if it means answers. I want Hassan found, Marco. If he’s alive… I want him found.”
Marco stood. “All right. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Call me if anything comes up.”
“I will.” Marco disappeared.
Silence stretched long and fraught with tension. He took several deep breaths, then called for Vittorio. A few moments later, his study door opened. “Yes, Sire?”
“Find Zola. Have her check on our guest. Make sure she’s settling in and has what she needs.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
“No, just—good work with the tea service. That was thoughtful. I’m sure Miss Shaw appreciated it.”
Vittorio hesitated. “Of course, Sire.” He left the room.
Laurent walked across his study, stopping before the chair Lily had occupied. He placed his arms on the back and leaned in. Breathing deeply, he allowed her scent to settle over him. His body began to change. He clamped down on the transformation. The mere smell of her left him ravenous.
It had been nearly a week since his last meal. Normally, that would have been more than all right. At his age, he could go a month or longer. But there was an amplifier in the house now.
He glanced at the clock again. Dawn was several hours away. He considered leaving, going in search of a fresh body. The idea was discarded just as quickly. Only a careless warrior left their sharpest blade sitting out for anyone to use.
He left his study, descending to the kitchen. Behind a latch, stairs took him into a cellar. There were two. One for his rare collection of wines, the other for his more exotic tastes.
House Sarkas had a massive reserve of blood.
He sifted through the frozen bags, finding his preferred age, sex, and type.
He slapped them down on the warmer, glaring at them offensively.
He knew without a doubt this diet wouldn’t keep him sated indefinitely.
He’d need to find a better solution, or he’d be drinking from Lily’s neck, and no amount of control in the world would stop him once that happened.