“Sir—”
“No,” he said, his voice harsh. He would feed when he chose to, and that would not be soon. It was a false fulfillment, a satisfaction that would last mere moments before he wanted more—more blood, more power. The hunger would escalate until his dependency fully returned and he sought out Arcuro. He had not seen his master in weeks. He hoped to not see him for many more, especially not now with his plans just beginning.
Laila flushed, mumbled an apology, and returned to the bar.
Perhaps he had silenced her prematurely. His people, especially Deagan, urged him to feed, but Laila might have been requesting the opposite. She was one of his younger vampires. Normally, he would not permit her near him on a regular basis, but she had been a vintner in her human life and had invested in multiple vineyards since she had been turned. She was beautiful and intelligent and had an adequate amount of self-control. She also had good managerial skills. She was an asset and should be treated as—
Oh, the wolf is not happy, Deagan’s thoughts formed in Jared’s mind. She is threatening to— Agh! A thump from the wall to the right punctuated Deagan’s words. Nora’s friends entered a moment later.
Jared remained motionless in the background while Laila greeted them, a smile and a calming aura erasing any unease they might feel.
Jennifer, chatting excessively, led the group to the couches. There were seven of them—four women and three men all dressed fashionably. Even without a vampire’s soothing pheromones, they would have been comfortable in this setting. They were accustomed to it, to the attention and the nightlife. They thrived on the conversations, the interaction, the social power of being the group everyone wanted to be a part of. Nora had created a cohesive little pack that saw her as alpha and catered to her wishes and demands.
No wonder Jennifer and Tasha’s imminent departures stung so badly. They likely kept her wolf satisfied.
Another thump sounded, this time from the hallway. Nora strode in a moment later.
By God, she was a thing of raging beauty. People rarely approached him without fear, but Nora carved a path through the room like a tsunami recarved a coastline. She presented herself as an equal when he could crush her with ease. It was impressive, and if she had been human and he had been much, much younger, he would have made her a vampire, taken her into his clan, and…
An odd emotion tugged at his chest. He had not turned anyone in decades—had not even felt an impulse to do so—and it was startling how that need, that instinct to grow his family, returned so potently as she neared.
Her nostrils flared ever so slightly, scenting the opened bottle of Bliss. If he had not been a vampire, he would not have noticed the tell or the sliver of yellow at the edge of her irises. Curious, he watched her eyes, wondering if she would have the courage to act on the desire there—not the desire to bow before him but to lunge for his throat.
Unfortunately, she did neither.
“You will get nothing from me.” Her voice vibrated with a violence that resonated inside him.
“My intention is not to take. It is to give.” He stepped to the side so she could see the opened Bliss, then he poured the amber liquid into the two stemless glasses, keenly aware of the death’s glare boring into the back of his head.
“You were not brave enough to parade my scent around your pack.” He set the bottle down, picked up both glasses, and held one out to her. “Perhaps this is an adequate insult.” Lehr would be irritated when he smelled the fey drink on his daughter.
She reached for the Bliss, and he quickly moved it out of her reach.
“I will begin charging you for broken glasses,” he warned.
Her smile was all teeth. “Best hold on to that then.”
Before he could respond, Deagan stormed into the room, his coat draped over an arm, a scowl darkening his face. Nora did not turn, likely because she scented his arrival and was responsible for the coat’s half-attached sleeve.
Deagan strode straight for them, stopped a few feet away. He waited with his jaw locked tight.
Jared passed the Bliss to him. He appeared to need it more than the werewolf did.
“Not worth it,” Deagan said, but he downed the drink.
His eyes closed.
He visibly relaxed. Bliss was potent enough to instantly calm a paranorm. It was also extremely expensive and hard to obtain. Luckily, Jared happened to have a good relationship with many of the local fey.
“Mostly not worth it.” He tossed the damaged coat onto the desk and turned to Nora. “For the record, Ms. Lehr, the answer is no. This is not about the unsanctioned you allowed to reach The Rain last month, nor is it about your father’s increasing pressure to alter the provisions of the treaty. Rather, this is about one daft man’s yearning to torment his devoted followers.”
Nora’s eyebrows rose. She looked at Jared. “You let your people talk to you like that?”
“Only Deagan,” he replied. “And he was speaking to you.”
Nora sniffed, then turned her back on them both and joined her friends. Jennifer moved to make room, but Nora sat on the arm of the leather couch, crossed her legs, and stared Laila down. The young vampire stuttered midspeech. She held Nora’s gaze for a few seconds, then looked away to pour a sample of a red wine into eight glasses.
“What are you doing, Jared?” Deagan asked quietly.
