It wasn’t everything he wanted, but for the moment it would suffice.
The first receptionof the summit, hosted by the leaders of the Báthory family, was always at their family home in the Castle District. The nineteenth-century palace was not the ancestral home of the Báthorys, but it had been the home of the summit since its inception in the early 1800s.
Oleg, like most of the attendees, was clad in traditional garments. His, representing the Kievan Rus, consisted of a pair of loose woolen pants tucked into high leather boots, a collared black shirt with gold embroidery, and a blood-red velvet kaftan that fell to his mid-thigh, trimmed in ermine.
It was hot as hell when he wore it inside, but heat didn’t bother Oleg.
The handmade garments were designed to draw the eye, and they did. Within moments of being announced, Oleg was approached by a member of the Austrian court—a charming woman with blood ties to his late mate—and the leader of a Central Asian business conglomerate he recognized from the last summit.
“Ladies.” He inclined his head to both women. “Greetings to your courts.”
“Greetings to yours.” The Austrian woman took his arm. She was a water vampire, as Luana had been. “Oleg, it has been too long since you have attended the festivities here in Budapest.” She leaned into him, and Oleg could feel the delicate hint of her amnis when she touched his hand.
It was a flirtatious gesture. Perhaps a little too familiar, but one she would be able to laugh off if he didn’t reciprocate.
Karoline was the favorite daughter of the vampire prince of Austria, and while she enjoyed playing the spoiled, rich water vampire, she was a dangerous woman if crossed. More than one of her former lovers had mysteriously disappeared after she was done with them.
“Didn’t you see him last time, Karoline?” The wind vampire from Samarkand kept a slight distance, which was customary for her clan. “Two years has flown by, Lord Oleg.”
He inclined his head, though he was fine keeping Karoline’s arm linked with his. “Takhmina Rasulova, it has been too long.”
The wind vampire was heiress to an immortal fortune that rivaled Oleg’s, her sire and grandsire holding control of the most profitable gold mines in Central Asia. Through their shell companies, they quietly extracted more precious metal than the majority of human companies combined.
“Karoline” —Oleg turned to the Austrian princess— “I must beg your forgiveness. I did attend the last conference, but I am afraid I was only able to fly in for a few business meetings.”
She pouted. “How boring.”
It hadn’t been boring at all. While the rest of the immortal world had been distracted, he’d stolen Tatyana away for a week on his yacht as soon as the conference was over.
“Not a week of parties, but my few days were productive.” He turned his attention back to the heiress. “Shall I expect you at our meeting on Tuesday, Takhmina?”
She smiled demurely. “I would not let anyone else from our family attend if I did not. Production in Muruntau has increased in the past two years, and we have much to discuss.”
“Excellent. I have to say, you are looking well.”
Takhmina scanned Oleg thoroughly, from his shining black boots to the short beard he wore. “And you are looking exceptional.”
Karoline purred, “Playing with fire, Mina?”
Takhmina cut her eyes to the blond vampire hanging on his arm. “I rarely play, but when I do, you can be sure I win.”
Oleg plucked Karoline’s hand from his arm and placed a kiss on her knuckles before he offered another nod to Takhmina. “Ladies, I see my boyar calling for my attention.” He turned on the charm. “Do I have your kind permission to abandon you for now?”
“If you must.” Karoline’s mouth seemed to have settled into a permanent pout. “But you’re going to the parties this year, aren’t you?”
He winked at her. “I will try not to miss a single one.”
Oleg swiftly left the two deadly women at the edge of the reception room and followed Mika’s scent.
In the tumult of so many immortals pressed together, his blood was buzzing. He scanned the crowd, looking for the source of the energy, but there were too many vampires, too much amnis, all in the same room. Still, there was something oddly familiar about?—
“Oleg.”
He turned and saw his brother Pavel walking toward him. “Ah.”
That must have been what he was feeling. Oleg had known his older brother was attending the summit, but he was surprised to see Pavel at the reception.
They greeted each other as was customary among Truvor’s sons, with a bow at exactly forty-five degrees on either side, then angled away from each other so they could survey the room.
