Chapter 25

Zver Vandermere paced down the long hallway, the green concrete walls and exposed pipes creating an echo chamber which bounced his low voice back into his ears, though his words were meant for the blustering male following behind. Mitch Garner. Weak suckass. Zver knew the spineless blowhard wasn’t up to the task in front of them. “We knew this was a possibility. Quit crying and deal with it.”

He shoved his way through the lone door at the end of the hall, the echo blessedly ceasing to be replaced by much sweeter sounds.

Whimpers. His favorite.

Garner didn’t give up that easily, following Zver into the larder and continuing to argue as the door closed behind him with a click. “You expect me to just roll over and die? She tried to kill me. Almost got past my bodyguards. Thanks be to the Father I had the foresight to bring them.”

Zver laughed at his brother, his son, his tone harsh and unyielding. “You placate your cowardice and call it wisdom. What have we to fear from such as her?”

Hands on his hips, Garner scoffed. “A sharp point and a pitching arm, genius. What do you think?”

Zver thought he could almost feel his fingers crushing the useless little slug’s windpipe. He turned and froze Garner with a stare. “Bluster and bravado look as revolting on your face as the piss I smell on your breath. You want something? Muster the courage to ask for it.”

So nervous he couldn’t even stand still, Garner fisted his hands at his sides and puffed up his chest. “I want a bloodblade.”

Zver clucked his tongue and turned away so Garner wouldn’t see his smile. He was a snake, no more. Worth nothing as a politician, but maybe as bait…? They did need information.

Zver strode away from the weasel, knowing he would follow. He slunk into the darkness of the room, his larder, cold and dank, with walls built from centuries-old stone. Such a perfect mood setter.

The women tethered to the wall were stripped completely so he could inspect them. He treated his stock well, making sure they were served plenty of red meat and green vegetables. Those who bruised easily after weeks of such a diet were unlikely to leave this room. The lucky ones? He moved close, watching them watch him with terrified eyes.

He grasped a woman’s chin and she jumped, her shackles jingling. Zver felt himself harden. It had been too long.

The female’s gums were pink and healthy. He turned and gestured to a guard. “This one.”

She cried and begged as the guard approached. Zver blocked out the words; only the tone and the cries were delicious to him. He could have charmed her to feel no fear of him, no pain during the feeding, but where was the sport in that? The sweet echo of her cries diminished as the guard carried her away.

Garner cleared his throat. “Good choice. May she nourish your children well.”

Bootlicker. Zver fixed him with a stare and swept his arm toward the wall. “Would you like to choose next? One day you might have children to feed.”

The lust in the male’s eyes was obvious, and included the women as well as the power Zver dangled before him.

Garner paced the length of the room, taking his time examining each offering. Showboating. Kiss-ass. He almost hoped the switch killed him. But just him.

Garner paused before one, a freckled young woman with wide hips, a slender waist, and large breasts, whom Zver had deemed unacceptable months ago. The male reached out to fondle her as he spoke and she didn’t even flinch, her face turned to the side, her eyes vacant. “Children would be a blessing.”

Zver gestured to a guard to retrieve the woman, and stepped closer to Garner. “Blessings come to those who deserve them. Those who prove themselves worthy by not hiding behind others.”

Impatient to end the encounter and make his remaining selections privately, Zver addressed Garner’s reason for coming. “I cannot spare a bloodblade.”

Mitch Garner’s jaw dropped. His eyes flashed with panic and bald fear as he raised his arm and gestured to the side. “But you can make more! She’s a professor at the college in the town where I live and work. If we cross paths again-” His voice lowered. “I might actually die.”

Zver’s impatience and arousal got the better of him and he snarled. “Then run faster than her.”

The male seemed to shrink before him and Zver reeled in his contempt. He tried a different tactic, dialing back his tone to one of guidance. “Why not do the intelligent thing? Follow her. See if she has sisters.” A burning hatred lodged in Zver’s gut, stoked by the switches’ return. Covenwhores, all of them, the filtiest of pedigree, spreading their legs for any male who proved to be a beast.

A wave of the hand told Zver what Mitch thought of that idea. “She’s working alone. I guarantee it.”

Stupid, lazy kiss-ass with no idea of the true implications of what had happened to him. Still, Garner could be made useful. Zver’s patience snapped. “You couldn’t guarantee that the sun will rise in the morning.” He tried to keep his voice level. “I gave you an order. Follow her. Fuck with her. You know where she works, where she lives. Get her riled up and see who she runs to.”

The undead silence that followed what he’d said made Zver realize he’d been shouting. So much for guidance. Mitch’s eyes were wide and awestruck. “Yes, sir. Master. Zver.”

The male tripped over his feet backing up. “I’ll report back.”

Zver closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to relax. “You do that. But not to me. I can’t stand the sight of you. Report to Vlade, understand?”

Mitch nodded, still backing out of the room. Zver lunged at him and hissed. Mitch scrambled so fast he fell on his ass in the hallway, then crawled away. Zver smirked. Not as graceful as phazing, but then, Mitch couldn’t phaze, could he? Just a baby vampire for all his years, and not very strong. Or smart. He dismissed the idiot and turned back to his meal.

The whimpers began again in earnest, a dark symphony of misery and fear. Zver sighed in contentment, eking out the pleasure of selection in tiny bites.

Over the years Zver had often wondered if humans would ever realize how much he enjoyed the screaming and the whimpering and clam up, try to take it away from him. Not yet. Further proof of how stupid and useless the whole race was. Not fit for anything but food for him, his siblings and children.

He frowned. If the switch who had gone after Garner wasn’t an anomaly, he would need to grow his army faster, make more bloodblades. And more children.

If he were human Zver might actually look forward to the prospect of so much mating. But he had long ago lost his taste for such things, turning to darker dealings for his own satisfaction.

“Tell me, my dear.” Zver tuned his voice to one of pleasant conversation as he followed his final selection through the door by which he’d arrived. “How do you feel about being flogged?”

He could charm her to love it, but where was the joy in that?

Blessedly, she began to cry.

Zver grinned. Perfect.