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“I knew the moment I saw you that you belonged to me,” Dante told him. “It was just a feeling. Something inside me that recognized something inside of you. Just like when my feet touched the soil here for the first time and I knew this was where we were meant to be. And when I saw Carver sitting on the playroom floor I knew that all the years I spent waiting and hoping had been for that boy. I knew because I trusted myself and my instincts.”

Yulian drew back. “Instincts.”

“Trust your instincts, Yulian. That is the first piece of advice that I would give any vampire.”

“Yes, sir.” Yulian pulled away, straightening his jacket as if he was embarrassed.

Dante wasn’t quite done. “If there is anything you want to talk about, I’m here for you.”

“You are too busy to worry about my little problems,” Yulian replied.

“Never,” Dante stated firmly. “I am never too busy for you. Whether you need to talk about something simple or important. We just might be having these conversations while hiding behind a tree.”

Yulian lips twitched. “I can handle that. I’m not ready yet. Maybe soon.”

“Whenever you are ready,” Dante assured him.

“I will protect your boy. When he comes back to you, I will make sure that no harm comes to him. Ever.”

“I know you will,” Dante said.

“I’ll still worry about you,” Yulian said. “He seems intent on finishing whatever plan they put into place.”

“Carver might think he can hurt me,” Dante responded as he turned back to face the small house. “He might even attempt it. I know his heart though. I’ll be able to get through to him.”

“Yes, sir. If you say so.”

Dante hoped that he wasn’t putting too much faith into a baby vamp that he’d known for barely twenty-four hours.

7

Carver

His palms were sweating, it was hard to catch his breath, and Carver was close to throwing up. For all the stories that he’d read, written himself, or watched on television, being a vampire wasn’t nearly as cool as it appeared. It quite literally sucked. No pun intended.

Shouldn’t becoming a vampire be exciting? Hunting down humans in the dark and stalking them like prey? Not that Carver wanted to live that way but at least it would make some kind of sick sense. Instead, Carver’s worries from when he’d been human had multiplied. In no way was his life easier.

Carver bit his bottom lip before hissing. His baby fangs, as Dante had called them, were a little sharper and possibly slightly longer. Why they were suddenly growing concerned Carver. He wanted to ask Dante about them but that meant having to stop hiding.

The plan he’d formed before leaving the house was to learn as much as he could about his new life before taking his revenge. It had seemed so simple as Carver pumped himself up to follow through with the mission. Now being faced with actually following through seemed impossible.

All he had to do was step out of the darkness for the guard at the gate to see him.

Behind the gate, Dante’s house, mansion really, stood imposing. Carver didn’t belong there. Forget the plans they’d made, the mission—if Carver stepped back into that house, everything would change for him. For his friends. And for the entire clan.

Owen hadn’t wanted to let Carver go. They’d argued. Kenny had been upset and locked himself in his workshop. The early evening had been a disaster. Carver had headed out of his own house, determined to prove to his friends that he could still take out the bloodsucker leader. Now that he was so close to Dante’s domain he knew the truth.

The heavy ball of anxiety sitting in his gut couldn’t be ignored.

Carver wanted to find Dante all right but not for the reasons he should.

With his back to the tree that was keeping him out of sight from the big house, Carver sank down. This was a mistake. He wasn’t strong enough to resist Dante. Hell, Carver didn’t want to resist Dante. As much as he loved his friends, and Carver did, Owen and Kenny were his family, but he needed Dante.

A low croak caught his attention just before something fluttered in front of him.

“Syn,” Carver said quietly.

The raven landed on Carver’s bent knee. Her dark beady eyes stared at him as if Syn knew all Carver’s darkest secrets. Since Carver knew next to nothing about familiars, maybe she did.