“I didn’t realize you were already here. You came to a party.” Oleg clapped Pavel on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”
The two vampires were dressed in similar clothing, though Pavel’s kaftan was a deep blue instead of red, and he wore long woolen slacks and dress shoes instead of boots.
“My social secretary arranged it.” Pavel looked down. “And these clothes.”
“You look good.” Oleg slapped his cheek lightly. “Very handsome.”
“Yes, Lidik told me I need to stop avoiding social events if I want to encourage more Western investment.” Pavel looked around the room with clear irritation. “Apparently these types of social engagements lead to more favorable contract terms.”
“Yes, all people—human or vampire—prefer to do business with people they like instead of people they do not know.”
“Humph.” Pavel seemed mostly irritated by this bit of information. “At least there is no dancing at this one.”
“That is the final party.” Oleg cocked his head. “Are you going to dance?”
“I have attended all the necessary lessons. And my social secretary confirms my abilities are adequate.”
Whoever Pavel’s social secretary was, Oleg would have to tell Mika to make sure she got a bonus for getting his most irritable and antisocial brother—and that was saying something, considering Lazlo existed—out of his office.
There was that buzzing again. Oleg narrowed his eyes and scanned the crowd. What was it?Whowas it?
“Who else is here from the family?” he asked. “Is Ivan already here?”
Pavel frowned. “Yes, but I don’t think he’s at this party. Apparently there is another one that not everyone was invited to, which makes no sense if you’re going to?—”
“Yes, yes.” Oleg was distracted. He felt like his blood was going to boil. There was a sense of urgency that had him abandoning Pavel and striding through the crowd.
He had no destination in mind, just an instinct that something—someone—was there.
Calling him.
Calling his blood.
He strode through the crowd and froze when the mass of vampires parted, revealing the object of his desire, his obsession. She was dressed in ice-blue silk, wearing a designer gown that fell around her slender curves, with an intricately embroidered cape of Poshani design draped over her right shoulder.
Tatyana Vorona, standing next to her fellow Poshani terrin, Kezia.
His mate… with her hand tucked under the arm of a silver-haired wind vampire he still hadn’t managed to kill.
The immortals around him fell silent as Oleg stepped through the crowd and slowly approached Tatyana and Kezia. Everyone had heard some variation of what they thought was the truth.
Tatyana had stolen from him.
Oleg had killed her sire.
Tatyanahad killed her sire.
Oleg had kidnapped her.
Tatyana had run from his aegis.
They were rivals. Lovers. Sworn enemies. Secretly plotting to conquer Eastern Europe.
The rumors swirling around the new terrin of the Poshani clan and the very old vampire lord of the Kievan Rus were myriad and contradictory, and Oleg and Tatyana had done nothing to clarify anything for anyone.
Oleg’s fangs fell just seeing her hand touching another man.
“Lord Oleg.” Kezia greeted him. “So good to see you again.”
