He didn’t give a shit about the kid.
He just liked pretending he was the protector of all things underborne.
What a cunt.
“Dear sir, your generosity humbles me,” I said, offering a mock bow so theatrical Shakespeare would have hired me on the fucking spot.
Not that Shakespeare was even real, of course.
We all know the renowned dramatist and poet was just Marlowe, Johnson, and Kyd stacked inside a trench coat, careening through the Elizabethan era like drama students on a dare, accidentally defining the Western literary canon.
“If I had known it would provoke such violence against your kind, I would have tracked down the human who got away and ensured he never spoke to another soul again. As for your other question, I must ask that you accept I am neither friend nor foe but simply a being who lives among you. I do not wish to divulge any more than that.”
When I looked up, Renato’s face twisted as if he was puzzling out a riddle no one asked him to solve. His fingers drummed a slow, deliberate rhythm along the arm of his chair.
Vesna sat beside him, buried beneath so many gold chains and glinting jewels that it was hard to tell if she was crownedor cursed. Her gaze dragged over me, ravenous and calculating, before she leaned in to whisper something in her husband’s ear.
I remained still in front of their hideous chairs, forcing my expression into neutrality while impatience gnawed its way up my spine.
“Fortune is a fickle mistress, stranger. But tonight … she smiles upon you. My beautiful wife has seen something worth sparing. That’s the only reason you’re walking away from here with your life.
“However, I require one thing. Something even Vesna cannot talk me out of: a favor to be redeemed at a later date.
“Your identity remains a mystery, yet your strength and age are undeniable. While I understand this debacle wasn’t entirely your fault, I would be a fool not to take advantage of such power in my darkest hour.”
Renato’s deep blue eyes shone with malice as he flashed a wicked smile, his blindingly white fangs gleaming like sun-bleached bones.
Yes, these lukewarm, soul-sucking twats have fangs.
Vampires don’t kill humans outright. Instead, they puncture the nape of their necks and slowly feed on their souls until they’re on the brink of death, which can take years.
And just before the poor bastards expire, they crack their skulls open and gorge on the pineal gland.
It’s like fucking wagyu beef for these assholes.
Their entire biology is built for it. Their hearts beat maybe five times a minute. Even birth takes years. They’re not dead, just biologically lazy.
Slow systems, slow lives—every function calibrated to make their meals last.
They aren’t undead. Just alive in the most goddamn inconvenient way imaginable.
I took a moment to consider Renato’s request.
I could’ve wiped out every vampire in this gaudy house in minutes, but it wasn’t worth the hassle.
Plus, vampire meat tastes like dust.
“My dear Renato, I agree to your terms and will be available at your request should the need arise. Although I’m not sure how I couldeverhelp a powerful being such as yourself.”
I let the sarcasm roll off my tongue, flashing him my own razor-sharp teeth in return.
I knew I was provoking the old bastard, but fuck him.
The vampire twitched, just barely, but recovered with practiced ease.
So sensitive.
“Fine. You are free to go. When the time comes, we expect full cooperation, knowing you’ve agreed to do our bidding. Also, we would like to know your name, so we can address you properly in the future.”
