Every week, an auction was held for the vampires to bid for a stage position in the seven different feeding frenzies the following week, and Zander was going over the details of the auction to be held in a few hours when Spencer’s telepathic voice slammed into his head, full of urgency.Problem. Theater. Need you.
Show me.
Spence opened his senses, and Zander saw and felt Giuseppe and Javier’s anger.
Zander rose, made it to the stairs vampire-fast, and flew down them, cool air whipping past as he descended three floors in seconds.
Through Spencer’s link, he saw and heard it all. Spencer had organized a contest on stage, three flock members fucking, three vampires who’d paid to stand off to the side.One strike of a whip every minute — no blood, no head shots — the first to either knock their assigned flock member unconscious or make them safeword out of it, would get to feed from that flock member to near-death. An engorgement. The flock member wouldchangeand heal once Zander called time. All were level two, with a safeword, but all had also agreed to these rules for this show, and were being paid quite well.
The activity on the stage had stopped, though. Everyone was paying attention to the problem vampires.
He’d gone back in Spencer’s memory to see the beginning, and Javier’s offhand remark had been casual venom: “Some masters keep their pets on such a tight leash, one wonders if they fear the creature might stray.”
Giuseppe and Étienne had been together for centuries, lovers and best friends. Étienne is never far from Giuseppe because they are close, not because he isn’t allowed away from him.
So, of course, Giuseppe’s response was an ice-cold demand for recompense, his honor offended, his relationship with his lover disrespected.
Javier refused with a smirk that dripped disdain, so Giuseppe turned to Diego — Javier’s bound assistant of centuries — and asked, voice silky with insult, if he was truly an assistant or merely a paid whore, and how often his master fucked his ass?
The room had frozen, and power crackled. The true problem here was Concilio tradition against the newSenatus, and vampires who dared to buck tradition, but no way could Zander point that out.
Zander burst into the theater and landed with silent grace between them, his own power unfurling and filling the room. The pressure hit them both, forcing backs to straighten, fangs to retract, and their own power signatures to dim.
“Gentlemen,” Zander said, voice smooth but edged with steel that brooked no argument. “This is Mordnik. You both signed contracts about not engaging in power struggles.”
Giuseppe’s eyes narrowed, dark with fury. “He insulted my Étienne — called him a pet on a leash.”
Javier’s lip curled. “And he called my Diego a whore. Recompense is owed.”
Neither would admit fault, and Zander suppressed a sigh; he wouldn’t host both Concilio and Senatus together for decades after this, at least, but that didn’t fix the problem before him.
Spencer’s telepathic voice brushed through his mind.Flock issue in the cafeteria. I’ll handle it.
Zander sent a brief acknowledgement, and shook his head at the two vampires. Giuseppe sneered about, “Barbarian upstarts who’d sell their own for territory,” and Javier retorted with, “European relics clinging to outdated laws like drowning men to driftwood.”
And then his phone gave the single chime he’d assigned to Emerald. He lifted his watch and made a double-fist so it would show him the message. “I’d like a conversation in thenext couple hours if you can arrange it. Spence doesn’t have to be present, but I’d prefer him to be.”
Irritation spiked because he had no idea what she wanted to talk to him about. He was accustomed to knowing thoughts, motives, and desires with a brush of his mind into other’s thoughts, but Emerald’s shields were fortress-strong, and the mystery gnawed at him. What required privacy? Thesis breakthrough? Triad concern? Something darker? He couldn’t go to her until this was contained, but she’d never sent this kind of message before, and that did not bode well.
The frustration of not being able to slip into her mind never got easier. And yet, he had to acknowledge this is how most mere mortals are forced to operate.
Zander raised a hand and pulsed enough power to silence the problem vampires. He was strong enough not to hurt the entire room when he hurt them, but it took finesse. The people closest to them stopped breathing for a dozen seconds, and he hoped he didn’t have to do that again.
“No challenges between Master Vampires who hold territory, you both signed to that in blood. However, we are three days from the next fight night, and I propose a fight between your daywalkers. Human form, no injury beyond what heals in threechanges.”
A lion and a black caiman were going to fight dirty. “No claws or teeth.Changingany body part is a forfeit and loss. Fight until one of them concedes or I declare a winner. If there isn’t a clear winner after twenty minutes, both willacknowledge the other daywalker’s strength. If there is a clear loser, then the winner’s master receives public acknowledgment of the offense and a formal apology from the losing vampire.”
Giuseppe’s eyes gleamed, honor through proxy was clearly acceptable. Javier’s nod was sharp, calculating.
“Satisfactory,” they said almost in unison, tension easing a fraction.
He telepathed Lucien, who’d arrived shortly after Zander.I’m needed elsewhere. I assume you can handle final negotiations?
I can.
“Lucien will formalize details,” he told the vampires.
He left them simmering but contained, and he telepathed Spencer.I need you to meet me in the suite, if you have your situation resolved?
