The gathering inside the Great Hall of the de Monsos castle could be viewed as the very definition of disparity. Down the left side of the aisle the swelling crowd was beautiful beyond reason; poised, elegant, pale-skinned and striking. They wore their carefully composed masks of calm with an air of superiority, but also a hint of expectation and excitement.

In stark contrast the other side of the aisle contained a mixed bag of guests who were pitifully ordinary; standing beneath elegant chandeliers, surrounded by grandeur, whilst dressed in shabby clothes and, honestly, needing a good bath. They wrung their hands with unease and whispered to each other, standing in little groups, aware of the way the ‘others’ were looking at them with calculating eyes.

I leant back against the wall in a darkened corner and let out a bored sigh. This could be a long night.

A hush fell over the room as a man entered, dressed in an expensive suit, with a blushing bride on his arm. She giggled as he ushered her through, gathering up the silk train that billowed out in her wake.

His smile was serene, his pace casual. But the buoyant smile on her face quickly faded when she took in the room. Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. To the left of the aisle they grinned and nodded at the groom. The other side shuffled around awkwardly, as if they didn’t actually know why they were here. Probably for the best.

“I thought we weren’t having any guests?” the bride whispered in the groom’s ear. “You told me no family or friends. Just us. Who are all these people?” She scanned the crowds, searching for anyone familiar.

“Hush now, everything’s fine. We’ll talk after the ceremony. Just enjoy this moment, my love.”

They arrived before an altar and stopped to face each other. She glanced around again at the watchful, expectant stares from the crowd. I pressed myself further into the wall to stop from walking out. Why was I even here?

Emory de Monsos, leader of the Bael, just loved fucking toying with me, that’s why. I shifted my gaze and tried to get his attention, but he was standing behind the altar, waiting for the bride and groom to notice him. He was staring at the bride like she was his Christmas present – eager to get on with opening her up.

Her hand went to her chest in worry, a flush creeping up her neck, but then the groom smiled and her shoulders relaxed. She took a deep breath and smiled back, reaching out to stroke his face as if utterly in awe of him.

I would never do this. Never. Yet, the excitement from the left of the aisle was a tangible thing in the air, and the wisp of fear beginning to weave through the others… I clutched my fists beside me. No. I will not partake.

Emory cleared his throat from behind the altar and the bride finally snapped her attention to him. Within a second she was shaking her head in a daze. No doubt blinded by him, as everyone is, with his pure white hair and skin like bleached bone, smooth as the marble before him. Today he’d dressed himself in some weird priestly robes.

Part of me wanted to tell her not to look at his blood-red eyes, but it was too late, and I wouldn’t actually have done it, anyway. Her hands began to tremble.

“Good evening,” Emory said, loud enough to carry through the vast hall. “We’re gathered here today, at this sanguine mating, to celebrate the joining of two souls fated to be together. Their union is demanded by our laws and their fate is binding. This bride will surrender herself wholly to this groom, and he shall take from her until he has had his fill.”

She tried to pull her hand free from her beloved, but he held tight. “What is this?” she demanded in a low whisper, as if we couldn’t hear. “This is not a vicar. I don’t—”

“Quiet, my sweet,” he soothed, his grip tightening on her until she was squirming in discomfort.

“Say your vows,” Emory commanded.

The groom gazed hungrily at his bride and her struggling faded as he turned her round to face the audience. So confused. Her watery eyes so wide, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t run. Rooted to the spot. Fear, or mind control. Could be either.

“Blood of my blood, bone of my bone, you will surrender your body, so that we might become one.” He smiled at her; a sharp, toothy grin. She stumbled to take a step back. The guests to the left were out of their seats, eyeing up the ‘others’, who stood like adders poised to strike.

I folded my arms and resisted the urge to yell at them to hurry up.

“Your life shall pass through me, Bethany,” his voice dropped. “Your death will bring me a new strength, new life. I’m truly blessed to have found my sanguine mate. I claim your essence as mine, for eternity. Sanguis quia aeternum. Mortem erit mea.”

He moved forward a step to kiss his bride. Her head shook. A shallow cry came from somewhere in her throat, but faded to a whimper as he pushed her up against the altar.

“No,” she pleaded – a whispered word that sent excitement surging through the room. The confused guests tried again to leave their seats, and were pressed back down by the groom’s men. His hand hiked up her dress revealing a garter on a delicate thigh. Higher and higher, the material rose until a flash of red panties had him growling with desire.

“You should feel honoured to serve me,” he groaned in her ear. “You were born for me. Be grateful the service has been short.” His teeth found her neck and a moment later blood flowed down her chest and spread through the material of the gleaming white dress.

Messy. Wasteful.

Finally. Perhaps now we could get on with this so I could leave. I made a move towards Emory, but one of his grunts halted my advance. Sanguine etiquette.

So I waited, less than patiently, until the groom had his fill. Then he turned his fated bride around, pushing her down over the altar. She thrashed against him, shying from the bloodied lips and the hands that spread her legs apart. I turned away as he dropped his pants and drove into her. I didn’t need to see his white ass jerking back and forth.

Chaos erupted through the hall.

People ran and fought, tugging on locked doors.

Then the screaming began.

Elegant guests turned into savages. Such is the way with vampires.

* * *

Some people believe there’s a monster in all of us. That it sits there, hiding and dormant, and that under certain circumstances it may be released. Sometimes instances out of our control set it raging free, other times we choose to let it out. Some of us are better at keeping it locked down. Others fail to contain it at all.

I don’t believe it exists in everyone, but what I do know is that no one can truly understand the meaning of ‘the monster within’ until they’ve battled a darkness so savage, so powerful in its desire to consume, that it shatters your soul into nothing but fragments. You’re left clutching at the pieces, pulling them back together, trying to forge them into something of meaning and worth.

I call it the Beast, and testing the Beast is the only way to control it. To release it, just enough that it threatens to break free, and then draw it back. Each time releasing it further, taking bigger risks – because with each victory comes greater strength. A power almost as strong as that of the Beast; the power of hope.

My monster might be locked away, but its voice is always there. Pushing, testing, taunting. Trying to be heard and have its words tumble from my lips instead of sitting mute in my head. For now it’s trapped in my carefully erected cage, and not at all happy about it. If it finds a foothold there’ll be no putting it back.

And it certainly wasn’t in the mood for playing today, with little intention of staying locked down. An unusual electric ache scratched down the back of my neck. I’d liked to have blamed the bloodbath unfolding before me, but it wasn’t just that.

No. It wasn’t dead humans giving me a headache. It was dead vampires.

Because dead vampires don’t pop up often, you see. We’re notoriously hard to kill, and when we do slaughter each other we’re meticulous about hiding the evidence. Yet I’d lost two men in as many weeks. Someone was on my island, killing my vampires under my nose, and I had nothing. No scent to pick up on, no trail to follow. It was like the damn invisible man was wandering around my territory, teasing and taunting me with his invincibility.

Speaking of invincibility, or assholes, for now I was keeping a close watch on Emory as he made me wait for his attention. His sole focus was on the groom, who was still fucking his new bride into oblivion, her pure dress drenched in blood.

Such a waste. A sanguine mate should be savoured. The evening should have been drawn out over days, weeks, and her essence taken gradually. Not that I approve, but if you’re going to go all primal then at least do it correctly.

However, events were escalating quickly and I supposed at least that meant I wouldn’t have to endure much more. The vampire guests were just as impatient as the groom – they hadn’t wasted any time in devouring the humans, who were most likely homeless people, rounded up and brought in for the entertainment.

People with nothing, who’d been promised an evening of alcohol and merriment. If any of them ended up being missed, then a Bael goon would go in and clear up the issue. Innocent people, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Lured in by the beautiful vampires.

Whilst just down the hallway, in another soundproofed hall, the richest members of society had been invited to an entirely different event. Politicians, the chief of police, lawyers, scientists and megacorp members; they were all there sipping their champagne and nibbling their canapés, enraptured by the ‘World of Emory’ – all of them in his pocket, thriving off the attention and bribes, blissfully unaware of the monsters in their midst. Or even worse, some were well aware, but uncaring. Foolishly believing that because they did his bidding they were safe.

Only Emory would host several events simultaneously, as a clear demonstration of his power and rank. He’d spend the evening casually slipping between the two parties – one minute feasting on the blood of an unfortunate guest in a gruesome, frenzied orgy, and the next minute he’d be schmoozing with those elitist cocksuckers just down the hall.

He finally turned to look at me, wiping bloodied hands down his robes, and I wondered how many outfit changes he needed on a night like this.

I shrugged away from my observation post against the wall, impatient for this bullshit evening to end.

“Biggest party of the year and you didn’t invite me?” Leon appeared at my side, resting a hand on my shoulder.

I smiled and shook my head. “Which party are you referring to? Did you come for one of the homeless saps or a business tycoon, because personally, I’d prefer the perky spring-break tits back on our island?”

He laughed and inched in closer. “You’re not yourself at the moment. You shouldn’t have come here alone.”

Emory appeared in the next instant. About time.

“Mr. Elwood,” he nodded, red eyes scanning me up and down. “I don’t remember putting any other members of your repellent clan on my guest list.” He glowered from Leon to the security guards by the door. Thanks to my best friend, they’d be dead by dawn – if they were lucky.

Leon nudged my ribs and gave Emory a wide grin, knowing that the Bael leader has a taste for blonde, surfer-looking dudes like himself.

“Follow me,” Emory sighed, ignoring Leon and turning on his heels.

“Alone,” he added over his shoulder.

Leon grunted, and I followed Emory to the back of the hall, side-stepping past the pools of blood and mangled bodies. The mayhem seemed to pause as we picked our way through, all eyes drawn to arguably the most powerful vampire on the planet, and myself, arguably the most baffling. The human guests that were still alive made pleading eyes at me. The vampires observed me with disgust, because outcasts don’t belong at such events.

Tension in the air thickened. Leon sent me some thoughts about watching my back, and how he’d ‘tear each member of the Bael a new one’ if they overstepped. I shook my head at his idiocy. He was a fool for coming. If things went bad here he’d be joining the doomed security guards, and he knew it. A pang of guilt swept through me at the memories of those I’d already lost, clouding my vision… rattling the cage.

Get a grip, Zac. Do what you were sired for and take them out. The Beast reared its head, whispering into my ears.

Beyond the altar, Emory settled himself into his ridiculous throne; intricately carved, upholstered in red velvet, and sitting atop a marble dais. It might have seemed appropriate hundreds of years ago, but to me it looked gaudy and absurd.

Looking bored now that the bride was lying utterly dead on the altar, he cocked one leg over the arm of the throne, and toyed with his long ponytail. Albinism robbed every bit of pigment from his skin and hair. Even his eyelashes were the brightest white, their delicate purity tainted by the devil eyes they framed.

Those eyes were a window into hell. Gazing into them for too long had been known to send mortals insane. Though that was really just a trick, it was his mind-control that did that, not the eyes themselves.

Just as I was about to speak, Emory nodded to one of his men and a whimpering woman was thrust at me. I pushed her aside and found that she was chained up to three other girls. All of them naked women. They formed a little line before us and Emory shot to his feet like a kid with candy. For fuck’s sake, had he not had enough already?

“I do love to eat before conducting important business, don’t you, Zac?” he asked.

“I already ate.”

Liar. I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment, silencing the Beast.

A smile lingered on Emory’s pretty-boy lips before he tore into a girl’s throat, deliberately doing so with enough force to splatter blood all over my white button-down shirt. I stepped back and attempted to wipe myself down. The heat from the naked bodies caressed me, their pitter-patter hearts skipping through my head. My fangs threatened to descend.

It was so hard to stay focused with a man being stretched apart on a rack to my right, several chained up to my left, and now these tantalizing treats before me. Fuck knows what was going on behind me, but it sounded fun.

Take them.

“Enough of the show, Emory. Get it over with. Why am I here?” I barked, clenching my teeth together and trying to hold my breath.

“You sure I can’t tempt you first?” he replied, smearing the girl’s blood over her nipples and licking it off.

I turned to leave. The Bael could ‘encourage’ me to attend their events when summoned, but they couldn’t change who I was and, much to their disappointment, they couldn’t make me fulfil the Elwood Legacy either. They remained ever hopeful, however. And patient. They have eternity after all. So they just keep me close, a watchful eye always bearing down, keeping the pressure on. It figures that eventually they’ll find something to leverage me with, but today was not that day.

“Not one, but two dead vampires,” Emory called after me. “Do you need our help?”

I froze, hackles rising. “Your help is the last thing I’ll ever need. Besides, I haven’t yet ruled you out as the perpetrators.”

He laughed. “Come now, Zac, you know I gave up killing your men long ago. I’m going with the patient approach these days. Softly, softly.”

“Yeah? So why am I here?”

“My dear boy, don’t be so brusque. You know I like to check on you every so often, see how my future prodigy is doing. It seems you’re not doing so well and I can’t have anyone threatening an Elwood. I’m posting agents to help you.”

“If you put a single man on my island, I’ll kill them. I can take care of this myself,” I replied, my teeth now grinding.

Emory narrowed his eyes at me whilst placing a finger over the girl’s lips to hush her dying cries. “See that you do. I’m returning to England for a while. You have six weeks and then I’m coming personally to deal with it.” For emphasis, he plunged his hand into her chest and pulled out her barely-beating heart.

* * *

I left the hall in a hurry, the Beast pressing against his cage inside me. My head spun with so much aggression that I hardly noticed the screams behind me as Emory tore into the other chained victims.

Leon was at my side in an instant as I exited the building.

“We’ll find them. We’ll fix this,” he said. “Whoever is messing with us, they’re on a countdown to the end of days.”

“I haven’t felt like this for a long time. I’m barely keeping a grip on myself.” I pumped my fists to unclench them at my sides.

“Sounds like you need a hit,” he mumbled.

We didn’t speak again for the journey home. I stole through the living area and attempted to go unnoticed past the men from my Cell, a couple of whom were snorting coke from bouncing titties and getting sucked off. They indulged me by casually ignoring my roiling tension. The girls couldn’t see that though, and one attached herself to me immediately. I muttered some apology for my lack of interest and broke free from her clutches.

Storming through the hallway, I ripped off my black tie and tore the buttons from my shirt, discarding it behind me. I passed down the basement stairs and pressed my fingertip against a scanning panel until it beeped. Heavy metal doors clunked open. Four men and one woman were playing cards in the corner of the room beyond.

They fell dead silent in my presence and leapt to their feet, lining up against the wall like shuffling sheep; heads hung low, eyes not daring to meet mine. They were starting to look like the undead, too. Black circles under their eyes, and pale, gaunt faces. I fed them well, their diet was something they couldn’t complain about, but it wasn’t enough to sustain what they lost in here.

I stood in front, willing one of them to look, urging someone to step out of line and give me an excuse to release the Beast. The smallest of the guys shuffled uncomfortably. He was a skinny little runt, all pointy-nosed like a shrew, with a straggly goatee and yellow teeth.

“Whose turn is it today?” I asked.

All of them. The Beast stirred.

No one replied. I let their scents wash over me, the fear rolling off them and into my core like a drug. Raised pulses tasted so exquisite at the back of my tongue. My body knew this drill; it knew what I was here for. The Beast was aware of the treat it would soon receive and it salivated in anticipation, clawing and scratching inside the cage, desperate for freedom. Tonight I was teetering on the edge, and it knew it.

“Number 266,” I stated, brushing past the dinner line and pausing at the other door. I felt him follow behind me, heard his mind racing with thoughts about who I was, what I would do to him. Yet he couldn’t argue, he couldn’t fight or refuse to come. He knew too well what the consequences of rebellious behaviour brought. Those were some painful memories that I let him keep.

He smelled different today. I mean, he always stank like trash to me; his scent didn’t press my buttons even on a good day, but today was worse. He’d been fed from too many times, the blood scent was weakening. I’d been looking forward to his expiry date coming.

I turned to face him, but he didn’t flinch. He knew that he’d go into the other room and then he’d come back out, unable to remember what happened. He also knew that, occasionally, they don’t come back.

“Say goodbye,” I whispered in his ear.

His eyes flew to mine in panic, his heart instantly doubling in pace.

“No… no… please, not yet,” he panted. The others kept their heads down, particularly Runt, but their escalated fear surged, along with a mixture of relief that it wasn’t them.

Pressing my finger to another security panel, I dragged him through the door.

Number 266 had been in this room many times already, yet he viewed it with fresh, fear-laden eyes. Spinning around in panic and confusion, taking in the bare, tiled walls and floor. There was nothing here except for us, a hose, and the cold, hard tiles. Easy to wash down.

Immediately, he pressed his back against the closed door. He wore a Robocop t-shirt which read ‘Dead or Alive, you’re coming with me.’ Funny guy. He’d been wearing it the day I took him and I’d made him wear it every day since; a little reminder about why he was here.

Eva liked him wearing it too, the way it clung to his muscles. She’d be pissed with me for this. She wanted to end him, have some fun and screw him one last time, but the jackass in me was taking over at an alarming rate; 266 was mine.

“W… what is this place?” he asked, pressing harder into the door, like he hoped to melt into it. Beads of sweat multiplied on his forehead, his hands twitching in feverish fear, goose bumps forming on his skin.

“It’s your nightmares.” The words came out slow and snarly as I ran my tongue over my teeth and embraced the surge of hunger. Shivers ran through me at the sound of his breathing, laboured with dread.

“You can’t do this,” he said with a sudden burst of bravado. It was at this point that they either crumbled in terror, or they fought. My smile widened, hoping he would choose the latter.

I tried so hard to slow my muscles as they bunched in their familiar way, knotting and tensing reflexively. I wanted to feel it and make it last, but my head was spinning, I couldn’t hold back.

I circled the room and sprang silently to my prey, covering the distance between us in a single, exhilarating move. If only every day, every minute, could be spent hunting.

Pinning him to the door, his eyes fixed on my fangs, then flicked to my eyes, and back again. The stench of urine drifted into my nose and nearly made me gag. So disappointing. I had hoped for more from him. I tuned out all the external chatter – his thoughts, the thoughts coming from the other captives, the sounds of sex two floors above, not to mention the din of cars, music and shouting from all over the island.

I focussed instead on the only thing that mattered in that moment; the sound of blood rushing through 266’s veins. A rhythmic whoosh, over and over, like waves crashing against the shore, drawing me into a gradual trance.

The darkness swirled inside my head, allowing me to see only a singular thing; Life and Death as one. Yanking his head back, my teeth sank straight through his jugular. Blood spurted down my throat in a dizzying rush. He struggled, arms flailing and grabbing at me in surprise. I held tight and drank deeply, until all too soon his legs gave out and I had to hold him upright.

His over diluted blood was odious, but somehow it still sent a sublime energy through my being, purifying and calming. It ran down my chin and warmed my neck. After a final few twitches I had to accept that he was gone. I pulled back and found his eyes wide and frozen from a fleeting moment of terror.

Dropping him to the floor, I immediately needed more. With my senses in overdrive the instinct coursed mercilessly through my veins, spreading out of control and burning everything in its wake. Soon, all rational thought would dissolve to embers, all human feeling would be scorched.

Because their breath slows, their heartbeat fades, their blood stills… but the hunger never ends.

Take them. Drain every last drop from each of their pathetic bodies. One by one. Drink them dry and bathe in their blood.

The other captives were still lined up in the adjoining room, waiting to be relieved back to their card game, to live another day. I stalked toward the door, a low hiss escaping my lips.

“No! Zac!” Leon burst into the room, placing a hand to my chest.

“Fuck you,” I shoved him aside, slamming his back into the wall, and moved on another step before he jumped me. Grabbing his forearms, I yanked him round into a headlock and squeezed until he relaxed his body into submission.

I released him with a shove and continued to the door, but it was too late, the moment was ruined. The darkness disappeared and snapped me back to reality. The Beast was locked behind bars again before it even had the chance to get going. It would make me remember that with a vicious ache all over my body.

Pussy. It grumbled.

I spun on Leon and he threw his hands up. “Everything is out of whack,” he said. “You’re not yourself. You’ll only regret it if you take them all in one go, besides, I’m fucking hungry, you need to save me some.”

Snorting a brief laugh, I dragged my fingers through my hair, clicking my neck, and trying in vain to ease out the pain that was crawling through my flesh. It was like an army of fire ants had been set loose just under the surface of my skin, stinging and burning. The ecstasy was too short-lived.

“Get that mess cleaned up,” I jerked my head towards the pathetic figure lying slumped on the floor, a distinct lack of blood anywhere, despite the gaping holes in his neck. At least I was clean, unlike Emory and his animals.

I dropped my head back to sigh at the ceiling and became aware of something different prickling at the back of my neck. Something really did feel messed up.

“What is that?” I asked.

He shrugged and gave me an ‘I told you so’ look.

Something was coming. The notion slapped itself into my conscience and settled there, causing a thrum of anxiety in my core. I stormed off and climbed back up the basement steps, my spine tingling in anticipation.