MIDNIGHT CONQUEST: Book 1 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles by Arial Burnz Page A

awaken from the ordeal as if the experience were a terrible nightmare. He would only have the coins in his pocket to ponder.
    Turning to the coward lying motionless in the alley, Broderick pierced his own thumb and smeared his immortal blood across the two puncture wounds at the man’s neck. The wounds faded away like smoke dissipating on the wind. Broderick hefted the man over his shoulder and carried him to the edge of town. He didn’t want him anywhere near the lad when he awoke. With little remorse, he dumped the man into the bushes along the road that led north to Strathbogie.
    When Broderick returned to the Gypsy camp, Amice greeted him with a furrowed brow. “Is everything quite well, my son? You look troubled.”
    “Aye, Amice. All is well.” Broderick forced a smile and kissed Amice on the crown of her head, disappearing into the tent. Amice recognized his moods, but she also discerned when to keep her distance. She would not follow him into the tent and pry for more information.
    Broderick closed his eyes and cursed his emotions. The wrath he allowed to freely reign on his victim tonight was a release of his failure to pursue the person he sensed. He still deserved what he got. Opening his eyes, he paced the tent, uneasiness tingling in his limbs. A brooding man his size did nothing to gain the trust of customers to be generous with their purses, so he took a moment to quiet his mind and get ready for the night of fortune telling, being sure to keep his senses alert. Broderick sat behind the small trestle table with his eyes closed and his arms crossed. Taking a deep and comfortable breath, he imagined the tension leaving his body like sand through a sieve. Aye, release it all . Meditating upon his dream would be a nice distraction. A smirk formed on his lips.

      “Davina!” Lilias called, pulling Davina’s attention away from the astounding display of a man putting a fiery torch into his mouth. Lilias stood before a Gypsy, whose arms dripped with ribbons, and motioned for Davina to come to her.
    With much reluctance, Davina pulled away from the show and shuffled to where Lilias spoke with the ribbon-clad Gypsy. “Oh, these look much better than what we saw earlier this afternoon,” Davina agreed.
    Lilias raved over the wealth of colors, the variety of materials and patterns, and picked out as many as she could stuff into her bag. She paid the merchant and they strolled to the other tents, admiring the trinkets and wares from every corner of the earth. All the while, Davina kept her eyes open for the old Gypsy woman and her mystic caravan. Where Rosselyn wandered off to, she didn’t know.
    Lilias and Davina watched a knife grinder’s fine skills as he sharpened a blade to a gleaming point, and then held their purses close to their bodies when Lilias spied a young lad cutting a sack of coins free from a man’s belt. Davina roamed her eyes over a table filled with brooches and pins of all designs and jewels. The merchant leaned forward with a pin, trying to tempt her into buying the piece of jewelry, but Davina refused with a polite shake of her head as she touched the brooch Kehr gave her, fastening her cloak on her shoulders. A sad melody poured out of the perfect “O” of a tiny Gypsy girl’s mouth, her aging grandfather holding a dented tin cup in his knotted hand, beckoning to the many passersby. Davina dropped some billon pennies into the cup.
    As Davina and Lilias continued through the maze of activity, a man kicked a melon-sized ball of clay out of the fire beside his caravan, which rolled into their path, startling them. He approached with apologies and picked up the hot ball with a cloth, bringing it back to his seat. Davina veered toward him as he broke the clay ball open with a rock. Taking his knife from the ground beside him, he cut into the ball, revealing a steamy, white center. Davina stepped further toward him, peering at his ministrations. “What do you have there, sir?” she