The Blood King by Calle J. Brookes, BG Lashbrooks

 
 
Chapter One
 
Rydere Dardanos studied the darkness surrounding him and his three men. Blackness suited their purpose this night. “Are you sure?”
His second-in-command Aodhan stood a yard away, stroking the head of the wild wolf at his side. Both beasts were only black shadows in the dark night. “As I can be. It’s distasteful, but this is war. We all agreed on that.”
“Yet they are so young. Probably innocent of the old man's sins.” Aodhan’s words seconded what was in the back of Rydere’s mind. It had to be done; he did not have to like what they were about to do, but as king, he knew it was necessary. His people deserved retribution. 
“Mercy, Aodhan? That’s unlike you.” Cormac’s snort was almost too loud in the darkness as the four men watched the small cluster of houses on the Taniss Compound. “This was your idea.”
“Momentary weakness brought on by lack of feeding.” The men knew Aodhan was lying.
“Perhaps Aodhan has the right of things,” the final man said and had Rydere’s attention sharpening. Theodoric was the gentlest of his three advisors, and the visions that plagued the half-blind man had proven invaluable to the men in the past.
“Mercy again? For the children of the man who has killed hundreds of our kind?” Cormac nodded toward the headlights coming up the drive. “Speak now, if you’ve predicted something, Theo, let us know. If not, I say we get ready. I’m hungry. I want a Taniss for dinner.”
“Theo?” If Theodoric said stop, Rydere would stop. He wouldn’t like it, but he would give the orders to do just that.
“Nothing specific, just vague unease,” Theo said as the sound of car doors opening and closing drifted to them on the still Autumn night. The sounds mingled with the light laughter of females. “Something that tells me my life is going to change. But that this is where we need to be.”
“For good or bad?” Aodhan asked as Tajic’s attention sharpened and the wolf raised his head to sniff the air.
“You are just hungry, Theo.” Cormac stepped closer to the other man, clapped him on the shoulder. “Smell the dinner on the air, my friend?”
There were four distinct scents on the air now, one sweeter than the rest. “That will be rectified shortly, my friends.”
“It’s the older granddaughters.” Aodhan’s voice was flat, disgusted. Resigned. “The grandsons could not be found alone tonight.”
“That’s fitting,” Cormac’s laugh was low in the darkness. “As it is our women who suffer the most, physically and emotionally, from this war.”
Rydere felt a stab of grief hit him as he thought of Cormac’s younger sister, who’d lost her mate thirty years earlier. Kindara had suffered so greatly, and had also lost the child she carried.
She’d grieved for her mate until only a shell of the bright Kindara he remembered remained. Now she just haunted the residence. Rydere tried but couldn’t quite understand that grief—he’d yet to find his mate, his Rajni. And he half hoped he wouldn’t. How could he, leader of the entire race, sit back and watch his own wife suffer?
Rydere’s people, the Dardaptos, were being attacked on multiple fronts; Kindara and her family were only a few of the victims. Dardaptoans were disappearing, taken when they searched for the food they needed to survive. It was easy for the Dardaptoans to blend in with the human population, as they shared similar physical characteristics and needs. But a Dardaptoan needed to supplement their regular diet with blood, human blood. That’s when they were being taken. Add to that the curse of an angry god that condemned the Dardaptoans to suffer great losses in childbirth, and Rydere’s people had dwindled to only a dozen or so tribes worldwide. Rydere would do anything to stop the suffering of his people. Especially at human hands.
“They are splitting up now.” Aodhan had the best hunter sight of the four men and he kept that sight trained on their targets.