Chapter One
Stalking through the abandoned structure, warm blood dripping from his chin and staining the front of his stark white shirt, he reveled in the game of cat-and-mouse the pathetic humans continued to play. The scent of their fear, the pounding of their hearts, the whoosh of their warm, succulent life essence as it flowed through their delicate veins was intoxicating. The thrill of the hunt was upon him, and nothing would keep him from claiming his prize.
Standing in the hallway, inhaling deeply, the long-forgotten growl of the predator he’d locked away so long ago rumbled within his chest. Long, sharp, and deadly, his fangs once again slid from his gums. Scratching and clawing to be set free, the beast rose to the surface, refusing to be ignored.
They were close. The heavenly aphrodisiac of their terror hung in the air teasing his scents, arousing his desire. Pictures of them hiding, holding one another in the darkness, praying for their very lives flashed in the chaos of thirst and need that was his mind.
Throwing back his head, his arms spread wide, fists clenched so tightly his nails tore through the skin of his palms, the ancient vampire let his rage fill the empty halls as he roared to a God who’d long ago abandoned him. Tonight, he would finally be free. Tonight, the beast would feast.
Slamming the heel of his boot through the large wooden doors to his right, lured by their scent through what was left of the splintered wood hanging from the rusting and creaking hinges, he ripped through the room, a predator hunting his prey.
Tossing the rotting, forgotten furniture aside as if it were no more than children’s toys, his ravenous gaze landed upon the young, nubile women, foolishly thinking they could hide from him. Huddled in the corner, their bodies curled so tightly he couldn’t see where one ended and the other began, the women’s screams reverberated off the barren walls.
Lunging forward, he fisted their long, tangled tresses, and yanked their heads back until they could go no farther. His cock hardened as his canines ravaged the first woman’s neck. Hot, sweet, and coppery, the blood flowed across his tongue, igniting his every sense like the finest port.
Draining the first dry in moments, he let her useless corpse fall to the ground as his focus shifted to his second victim now unconscious in his grasp. Shoving her head to the side, he drank his fill, his erection painfully hard as it pushed against the zipper of his pants.
Blood…Sex…Need…Rage…
Over and over he drained his victims, one right after another, seeking release where there was none. Hunger, thirst, desire, bled together, a fantastical morbid mosaic that became a living, breathing entity within him, refusing to be quenched.
Following the thunderous beat of the last remaining heartbeat, he reached into the darkness. Stifling her screams with his hand around her neck, already tasting every drop of her blissful blood as he snuffed out her life, his fangs tore at the tender skin of her neck…
“Alaric!” The voice slammed into his consciousness.
“She’s mine,” he snarled, the talons at the ends of his fingers connecting with skin and bone, the blood of yet another victim flowing down his arm.
Jumping to his feet, letting the woman’s lifeless body crumble to the floor, he scanned left and then right, searching for the bastard who dared to interrupt his feeding. Scenting the stale, fetid air, he sifted through the stench of decay and rotted flesh, smoke filling his lungs as the voice returned, roaring, “Wake the fuck up! You’re going to burn the place down.”
Reaching from the depths of his nightmares, Alaric’s fingers tightened around the thick, corded muscles of a man’s neck, fantasy and reality battled for control of his mind. Nameless, faceless bodies littered the ground at his feet, his eyes landing on the last body, the most important, the one he’d been searching for…
“No!” He bellowed.
Bursting forth, throwing off the hauntingly vivid visions that dogged his every step both day and night, his eyes popped open, immediately meeting the steely stare of his longtime friend and Second-in-Command, Ruari, as the younger vampire snarled through gritted teeth, “Kindly remove your claws from my neck.”
“Claws?” The word had barely crossed Alaric’s lips as his eyes snapped to Ruari’s neck.
Retracting his deadly talons, Alaric’s mouth watered as he watched the fresh, crimson trails of blood flow into one at the base of his friend’s neck before disappearing under the collar of his black CRAVE SECURITY T-shirt.
“Like what you see?” Ruari growled, getting to his feet before adding, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Pointing to the silver, stainless steel trash can at the far side of the bed, he went on, “You haven’t lost control of your fire in centuries. Are the Dragons close?”
“No,” Alaric grunted, climbing out of bed, refusing to look at the other man. “They are not.” He strode across the room naked, his dick hard and his shoulders thrown back, refusing to make excuses or acknowledge the demons that were chasing him. “And I will thank you to but the hell out.”
Walking into the bathroom, trying to slam the door on yet another reminder of how far he’d fallen, Alaric stamped down his contempt as Ruari’s beefy palm on the wood stopped the slam he so longed to hear. “Talk. Now. You’re a fuckin’ mess.”
Glaring at his friend, thoughts of ripping out Ruari’s throat and leaving him on the floor to bleed out, Alaric refused to speak. Pounding heartbeats, the succulent scent of fresh blood filled his senses as the club’s employees began to arrive. Snapping his jaws shut to hide his extending fangs he gave the door a final thrust, leaning against the cool wood and letting out the breath he’d been holding.
“This isn’t over,” Ruari spat a split-second before the ringing of the bell of Alaric’s private elevator echoed through his penthouse apartment letting him know the younger vampire had thankfully stormed out.
“Aye, no truer words were ever spoken, my friend,” he mumbled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “God save my worthless soul if this shit gets any worse.”