reddish-gold, reflecting his mounting need to feed. A nagging throb was kicking up in his temples, portent of the blackout he’d be dealing with if he didn’t lie down soon or get some nourishment to stave it off.
But sleep was out of the question and so was hunting for a blood Host. He needed to check in with the Order and fill them in on the added complication to a situation that had been fucked-up royal to begin with, all thanks to him.
He took the stairs a couple at a time, wishing like hell he could just continue walking right out the front door of the Darkhaven and into broad, deadly daylight. But he’d made this mess, and he’d be damned if he was going to leave it for anyone else to clean up.
As he hit the marble of the foyer below, Andreas Reichen was just opening the double doors from within one of the many rooms situated on the first floor. He wasn’t alone. An anxious-looking Darkhaven male with a mop of strawberry blond hair was with him, both of the vampires coming out of the dark-paneled study in the midst of a hushed conversation. Reichen looked up at once and met Rio’s eyes. He murmured something reassuring to his civilian companion as he clapped him gently on the shoulder. The younger male nodded, then politely got the hell out of the area with only the most furtive glance at the scarred warrior standing nearby.
“My nephew, bringing me some unpleasant news from one of the region’s other Darkhavens,” Reichen explained once they were alone in the foyer. “It seems there was an incident a couple of nights ago. A rather high-profile individual was found missing his head. Unfortunately for him and his family, the killing occurred at a blood club.”
Rio grunted, thoroughly unmoved. Blood clubs had been outlawed as barbaric underground sport decades ago, and most of the vampire population agreed with the ruling. But there were some within the race who still got off on the secret, invitation-only gatherings where human victims could be chased down in a contained area, raped, fed upon, and murdered like wild game. Helpless wild game, since not even the strongest Homo sapiens, male or female, was any match for a pack of bloodthirsty vampires.
The blood club killing was obviously a Breed-on-Breed altercation.
“Did they get the vampire who did it?”
“No. They’re still investigating the murder.” Reichen cleared his throat and went on. “Since the deceased was an elder-Gen One, in fact-and a member of the Enforcement Agency, there is understandable concern that the whole thing is set to explode into scandal. It’s a very sensitive situation.”
Rio gave a wry snort. “No doubt.”
Well, at least he wasn’t the only one among the Breed with piss-poor judgment lately. Even the fully sane, cultured members of the vampire nation had their bad days. Not that it made Rio regret his own fleet of mistakes any less.
“I need to touch base with Boston,” he told Reichen, running his palm over his brow to wipe away the sheen of cold sweat that was beginning to gather there. A wave of nausea tried to rise up on him but he held it back with sheer willpower. Damn. He had to hold his shit together at least until sundown, when he could run out for a while and feed.
If the coming blackout didn’t drop him before he got the chance.
“Is anything wrong?” Reichen asked him, concern furrowing his brow.
“I’m fine,” Rio muttered.
The other vampire didn’t look the least bit convinced, even if he was too well-bred to say so. His dark gaze flicked down to Rio’s arms, where beneath the rolled-back sleeves of his shirt, his glyphs were infusing with deeper, more intense color. He could claim from here to Sunday that he was right as rain, but those skin markings would give him away every time. The damn things were emotional barometers that visually broadcasted a Breed
But sleep was out of the question and so was hunting for a blood Host. He needed to check in with the Order and fill them in on the added complication to a situation that had been fucked-up royal to begin with, all thanks to him.
He took the stairs a couple at a time, wishing like hell he could just continue walking right out the front door of the Darkhaven and into broad, deadly daylight. But he’d made this mess, and he’d be damned if he was going to leave it for anyone else to clean up.
As he hit the marble of the foyer below, Andreas Reichen was just opening the double doors from within one of the many rooms situated on the first floor. He wasn’t alone. An anxious-looking Darkhaven male with a mop of strawberry blond hair was with him, both of the vampires coming out of the dark-paneled study in the midst of a hushed conversation. Reichen looked up at once and met Rio’s eyes. He murmured something reassuring to his civilian companion as he clapped him gently on the shoulder. The younger male nodded, then politely got the hell out of the area with only the most furtive glance at the scarred warrior standing nearby.
“My nephew, bringing me some unpleasant news from one of the region’s other Darkhavens,” Reichen explained once they were alone in the foyer. “It seems there was an incident a couple of nights ago. A rather high-profile individual was found missing his head. Unfortunately for him and his family, the killing occurred at a blood club.”
Rio grunted, thoroughly unmoved. Blood clubs had been outlawed as barbaric underground sport decades ago, and most of the vampire population agreed with the ruling. But there were some within the race who still got off on the secret, invitation-only gatherings where human victims could be chased down in a contained area, raped, fed upon, and murdered like wild game. Helpless wild game, since not even the strongest Homo sapiens, male or female, was any match for a pack of bloodthirsty vampires.
The blood club killing was obviously a Breed-on-Breed altercation.
“Did they get the vampire who did it?”
“No. They’re still investigating the murder.” Reichen cleared his throat and went on. “Since the deceased was an elder-Gen One, in fact-and a member of the Enforcement Agency, there is understandable concern that the whole thing is set to explode into scandal. It’s a very sensitive situation.”
Rio gave a wry snort. “No doubt.”
Well, at least he wasn’t the only one among the Breed with piss-poor judgment lately. Even the fully sane, cultured members of the vampire nation had their bad days. Not that it made Rio regret his own fleet of mistakes any less.
“I need to touch base with Boston,” he told Reichen, running his palm over his brow to wipe away the sheen of cold sweat that was beginning to gather there. A wave of nausea tried to rise up on him but he held it back with sheer willpower. Damn. He had to hold his shit together at least until sundown, when he could run out for a while and feed.
If the coming blackout didn’t drop him before he got the chance.
“Is anything wrong?” Reichen asked him, concern furrowing his brow.
“I’m fine,” Rio muttered.
The other vampire didn’t look the least bit convinced, even if he was too well-bred to say so. His dark gaze flicked down to Rio’s arms, where beneath the rolled-back sleeves of his shirt, his glyphs were infusing with deeper, more intense color. He could claim from here to Sunday that he was right as rain, but those skin markings would give him away every time. The damn things were emotional barometers that visually broadcasted a Breed
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