Undying Hunger
inside.
    Christian.
    Except the male didn’t quite look like the same Calyx he’d left behind at Marguerite’s estate. Instead of the well-kept blood donor Markus recalled, Christian resembled one of the dirty and half-clothed residents of the New York slums from more than a century ago, when Markus had been a boy.
    Christian’s squared shoulders and erect spine conveyed confidence and a lack of fear. But Markus noticed the mix of trauma and desperation lingering in the male’s eyes. He looked much like the humans who had begged for a coin or a piece of bread.
    Understanding the origin of anguish and worry in the expressions of the homeless from his past had been easy. Question was, what put that look in Christian’s eyes—or rather, who?
    The redhead followed Alexandria, with Elle bringing up the rear. Markus leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, waiting for the story regarding Christian’s arrival to unfold. As if Arran had been expecting everyone, his former partner trotted down the stairs and greeted his mate. So the whole gang was gathering around the bonfire.
    This would be good.
    The new guy eyed the others one by one, but when his gaze fell on Markus, he came to sudden halt. “Commander?” His brow furrowed, and he took a hesitant step toward Markus.
    Oh, give me a break. Like he didn’t know I was here.
    “Christian,” Markus said, lowering his arms and pushing away from the wall. “What the hell are you doing here?”
    The tall, fair-skinned man edged closer and that’s when his individual scent registered over the others. Blood and…vampire. Markus drew up short. “You’ve been turned,” he said.
    “Yeah,” Christian replied.
    “What happened?” Markus gave him a once-over. “You get tired of being the donor? Thought it was time you were the one with the fangs?”
    “Markus,” Kenric warned. “Take it easy.”
    Markus shrugged. “It’s a valid question.”
    “I wanted it,” Christian said. “If that’s what you’re asking.”
    “Okay.” Markus nodded. “I get that. Then what’s your story? Why do you look like you’re about one gulp away from turning DEAD?”
    “Enrique Mateo,” Arran interjected, drawing Markus’s attention. “That’s what happened to him. Gabrielle called earlier. She and Alex stumbled on Christian feeding and stopped him before he went too far. He said Enrique had done the deed and then dumped him on the street a few nights ago.”
    Tendrils of foreboding snaked their way up Markus’s neck. “Enrique, huh?” Putting them toe-to-toe, Markus sneered at the newbie. “What would make him do such a thing to you?”
    Christian met him glare for glare. “I don’t know. He’s a damn ass, I guess. Enjoys watching others suffer. Much like you and Marguerite, don’t you think?”
    Something that felt like a smile tugged at Markus’s mouth. The kid had guts. But he wasn’t fooling him. Markus seized the other male by the back of the neck, yanking him hard until they were sniffing each other’s pores. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Red.” Markus’s fangs stabbed his lower lip. “Why the hell are you really here? What kind of game is Enrique playing?”
    “For God’s sake!” Elle appeared at their side. “What are you doing?”
    “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Christian spat, and groped at the hold on his neck.
    “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Markus wasn’t about to let up. Enrique was after something. And he bet his ass Christian was his puppet.
    “What makes you think Enrique has anything to do with this other than setting Christian up for a walk through hell as a DEAD?” Elle grasped Markus’s free arm.
    “What’s the deal, Markus?” It was Arran this time. “Where are you going with this?”
    “I don’t know what you think I know,” Christian chewed out. “Enrique can kiss my ass. There’s no game.”
    Without waiting for permission—like that was fucking happening—Markus

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