“That’s as good a term as any.”
“Okay, children. Are they bound to you in some way? And yes,”—he held up his hand—“I got that idea from a television show. Sue me. I like paranormal crap.”
This wasn’t exactly a revelation to the vampire king. Cain guessed Willis had an interest in the paranormal when he didn’t freak out when Cain approached him. Instead, the human was fascinated by everything Cain had told him. “Yes, my children are bound to me. And that is one reason I’m attempting to merge my kind with wolves.” Cain didn’t know why he was sharing this part of his plan. And he wasn’t about to psychoanalyze his motivation for doing so. Cain was old enough to have dozens, maybe hundreds, of what humans would consider mental health issues. He’d been a vampire for so long that he didn’t even remember what it was like to be human. Hell, when it came right down to it, he was a parasite, a being that lived off the blood of others. Who wouldn’t get a complex from that kind of life? These were the kinds of things he kept to himself.
“One of our greatest weaknesses is the fact that those we sire are bound to our fate. If I die, then any vampire I have directly created will die as well. So”—Cain slipped his hands into his pockets and glanced at Finn to make sure there were no signs that he was waking up—“if in my very long life I make a thousand vampires, and I am killed, thenallof those vampires die. As you can see, that would give the wolves, or any of our enemies, a significant advantage over us.” He frowned and then glared at Willis. “If you use that information against me, I will rip your intestines from your stomach and hang you with them. That will be a very long, painful death.”
Willis froze and held his hands up. “Hey, man, no disturbing death threats needed. I’m firmly on team vampire king.”
Cain rolled his eyes. “You’re a strange human.”
“I’ve been called worse things.”
The vampire king pulled out his phone and made a quick call. “I need you to come get a prisoner, Brock. He needs to be held in the most secure place you have. Why?” Cain pulled the phone down and looked at it as ifthe phonewas the idiot who’d asked the question. He put it back to his ear. “Because he’s bloody dangerous and will tear a human limb from limb if given even the briefest opportunity.”
Cain listened while the general complained about security and the withholding of vital information.
“Oh, I’m sorry, General,” Cain snapped. “I thought we discussed the capture of a full-bloodedCanis lupus. Did you think it was going to be a damn puppy that wanted to play fetch?”
Willis snorted as he continued to rummage around his equipment.
Cain sighed. “Just get some people over here as fast as possible to transport him.” He disconnected the call and tried not to crush the device.
“He’s a douche,” Willis said. Cain had noticed the scientist used this particular moniker regularly.
“If that means insufferable ass, then yes, he most definitely is.”
Willis rubbed his hands together, looking like an eager child. “So, could you tell the difference in his”—he motioned to the unconscious wolf—“blood and hers?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “She has quite a lot of wolf blood. That’s probably why her blood is killing the vampire virus.”
Willis pointed to the window. “Well, get to biting then.” He handed Cain a clipboard. “Write their number down and then rate them on a scale of one to ten. One being very little wolfy blood and ten being almost full-blooded. Then bring it back so I can pull the weak samples and start letting these cells get their dance on.”
Cain glared at the male. “I don’t take orders from you. And what the hell does ‘get their dance on’ even mean?”
“I’m not trying to give you orders,” Willis said. “I’m trying to refocus you. This whole situation”—he motioned to Finn—“seems to have derailed you a bit. And have you seen cells interact under a microscope? It’s fascinating, and it looks sort of like—”
Cain held up his hand. “Forget I asked.” And then he pointed at Finn. “The only reason I seemderailedis because that was so unexpected.” Cain took a deep breath and headed for the door. “You’re correct. I need to get to work.”
“Why don’t you have some of your other vampires help with the biting?” Willis made a chomping motion with his mouth that made Cain want to slap him.
“Because not all vampires have the control to stop feeding before their food source dies.” Cain pulled the door open. “I can’t have out-of-control vamps drinking all our dormants dry.” He glanced at Finn again. “If he moves, stab him again with more of your tranquilizer.”
The scientist waved him off. “I gave him something that could knock out a herd of elephants. Dude is going to be asleep for a while.”
“Did I mention thatCanis lupuscells metabolize drugs differently?” Cain asked just before the door closed, leaving Willis inside alone with the large wolf. He chuckled, knowing the scientist would scramble to have another injection ready for Finn. He probably shouldn’t attempt to scare his most loyal supporter, but it amused him, and so very little amused Cain these days.
He carried the clipboard into the room and walked over to the first gurney. A number one hung from the pole that held the bag of nutrients being intravenously given to the male. For the first time in his existence, Cain was not looking forward to biting a human. He was actually satiated. The vampire felt noneedto feed. Finn’s powerfulCanis lupusblood had nurtured his continuously starving body. It had to be because of the wolf’s dominant nature. Perhaps he came from a powerful line of wolves. As he leaned down and turned the head of the human to expose his neck, Cain considered something that had never, as far as he knew, been done—keeping a full-bloodCanis lupusas a food source.
* * *
“Can we trust the vampire?”Colonel Douglas asked. He, General Brock, and a handful of other military members from different branches sat at a large conference table.
“We don’t really have a choice.” Brock ran a hand down his face. He was sick of dealing with the arrogant vampire. “He has instructed all other vampiresnotto interact with us.”
“He has that kind of power over the vampires?” Admiral Prescott asked.
“He’sthevampire king.” One of Brock’s assistants, a man named Francis who followed Brock around like a loyal dog, said. Awe filled the diminutive man’s high voice. “There’s no telling what kind of power he has. Considering all the folklore we have on vampires, which Iknewmeant that they had to exist because all folklore comes from a form of truth, some of the things in books and movies have to be true. He can probably control them with his mind. Or maybe—”
