“You were held by magic?” He had visibly checked her over and hadn’t seen any wounds.
“I’m fine now. The spell felt like death, and I should have been immune.”
Odd. He hadn’t realized lycans were impervious to death magic.
“The big guy in the robe, did you see him?” she asked.
“I did.” Barely. The figure had kept to the shadows. Something about him felt familiar.
“He had something to do with the spell and the dead vampire. I know it.”
“A sorcerer or warlock, perhaps.”
“Maybe.” She looked at him. “How come you took that hit from the vampire when you killed him in seconds?”
“I wanted to see what he could do.” And he’d needed to wear down the ancient vampire, which shouldn’t have been necessary in the vampire’s condition. “He didn’t feel right, and he moved as fast as a revenant.”
“A revenant vampire?”
“Yes. One of my kin is a revenant. But the vampire I just fought was strigoi.”
“How can you tell the difference?”
He glanced at her before looking back at the road, trying not to preen under her intense regard. “Vampires know their own kind. Besides, a lot of us share similar features or attributes. I felt his magic, and it was thick, like the strigoi. That vampire was old and filled with a power not his own. And not alive, no.”
“A dead vampire. So, a zombie?”
“Vampires can’t become the undead.”
“Yeah, but who knows what that thing really was?”
Khent might know. “We’ll get answers at the house. I can get a change of clothes, and you can stop worrying that I might not be okay.”
“I’m not worrying.”
Ah, that growl in her voice. He treasured it. “You sure you don’t want to feel my stomach to make sure I’ve got all my parts?” He wanted her touch, badly.
He saw her flush out of the corner of his eye and chuckled.
“You’re annoying.”
“But so handsome and charming.”
“You wish.”
He saw the small smile she tried to hide and felt victorious. She quieted soon after, fiddling with the radio to fill the sudden silence. Yet it felt comfortable, not awkward or forced.
They drove back to Mercer Island accompanied by classic rock music, and Kraft allowed himself to enjoy it. Unlike many of his kind, who had no use for humans other than as food or for bed sport, Kraft enjoyed the many things humans could do.
They excelled at war, picking fights with each other over petty matters just to battle. They also made fine music and paintings, in addition to excelling in the art of cooking. He enjoyed eating, not just drinking blood, but savoring the taste of solid food in his belly. Meat especially, though he had a fondness for some fruits as well.
Riley straightened in her seat when they approached the house, or mansion, as a few of his kin called it. On the outside, the stately home in Mercer Island looked normal enough. Two stories, with an entrance through the upper level, the house sat on a rich piece of lakefront property. But the inside led to all manner of places. Their rooms were massive. They had an indoor spa and swimming pool that connected to Lake Washington through a water-filled tunnel. The windows that allowed sunlight to spill through had been spelled to block the UV rays while still allowing illumination, which made no sense, but anytime he’d asked Mormo about it, the magician had smiled and answered, “It’s magic.”
He pressed a button to open the garage door.
Riley gaped as they drove inside. “You guys livehere?”
“You were expecting a cave with a lot of coffins, right?” He parked the Land Rover next to the other luxury cars, pleased to notice only one with a cracked windshield. Their human servant, Bella, certainly had her hands full keeping the vehicles maintained.
