Chapter One – Darius
A picture of Iosif hung over the mantle in Darius's study. The king had ruled all the lands from the Black Sea to the Carpathian Mountain range to the Danube River for almost two thousand years now and was a vampire of great strength and pride. This study had once belonged to his father and Darius had sat on the floor and stared at wonder at the king's picture ever since he was a young boy.
Hearing about the king's great feats against the shifters, who used to run rampant and murder recklessly, had always made his heart swell with pride. He had determined from a young age that he would be as great as the king, one day wearing the crown on his own head. As he grew up, he realized that his goals required a lot of hard work, but Darius was nothing if not determined.
"There have been reports of wolves here and here," he said, pointing to the map spread out on his desk. "Three dozen sheep were killed and a shepherdess has disappeared only a dozen leagues from here."
His best friend and second-in-command, Gordon, frowned. "You think it's the Rebeluna?"
Darius grimaced as he considered. The Rebeluna was a self-proclaimed rebel group that resisted the vampire king in any way possible. Shifters of various clans gathered and were responsible for more vampire deaths than any other group in the past decade. Since they assassinated the last colonel charged with finding them, the king had turned the investigation over to Darius.
"No," he decided. "The Rebeluna are organized, efficient. These are minor inconveniences, more likely wolves who consider themselves rebels but don't have the courage to actually commit to open rebellion."
"Then why bring them up?"
Darius straightened and grinned. "They're exactly the type that the Rebeluna will recruit for cannon fodder. Send a couple of men to investigate. If humans think that we're allowing shifters to steal them away with no consequences, it might stir up unrest. Find the shepherdess, if nothing else."
"Am I interrupting?"
The cool, confident voice made him turn to the door. His twenty-year-old human wife of four months, Cleo, stood in the doorway. Darius smiled at her. Iosif and his own human mate had had no children of their own and had made it clear that the vampire they chose to replace Iosif had to prove he had good relations with humans. The best way to do that was to marry one, and so he had.
"Darius. Gordon." Cleo strode in, her shoulders back, her head held high, exuding an air of confidence about her.
She had been Darius' choice wife for two reasons. One, she was beautiful. Bronzed skin, long curly hair, stunning black eyes. When Darius first chose her, Gordon had questioned whether he really wanted somebody as 'robust' as her. She was all curves and softness, nothing angular or sharp about her–except her piercing gaze.
Which brought him to his second reason for choosing her. She made no pretenses about what she wanted – a husband who could give her all the luxury and power she desired. She wanted to be queen as much as he wanted to be king, and she would do anything necessary to ensure that happened.
Having a woman like that by his side only heightened his possibilities. She was clever, level-headed, and he had never seen her act based solely on emotion – exactly what he was looking for in a wife.
"You didn't come to bed last night, Darius." Cleo walked into the room, her black eyes never leaving his face. "I bought a new… dress that I wanted to show you."
The colonel could imagine what she would look like in the 'dress' and swallowed hard. Heat curled in his lower belly.
Gordon cleared his throat. "My lord, if you want some privacy—"
Darius waved his hand at his friend, an annoyed expression on his face. "As much as I would like to ravish my wife on every surface available in this room, I don't have the time."
"More news on the Rebeluna?"
"A small envoy of vampires were attacked yesterday evening. It's the Rebeluna's style, but there are many other reports of shifters that I have to have investigated."
Cleo nodded. "What envoy did they attack yesterday?"
"Lord Virgil's taxes. He still insists on delivering them in gold every year. Claims it's safer."
Cleo snorted. "Maybe he'll start using a check or e-transfer now."
"Maybe. And maybe I should have seen it coming. Virgil's so stuck in the past that he's an easy target for the shifters. They pretended to be a roadblock and shot the tires of his Hummer. They took the gold but didn't stick around to kill anybody."
Gordon coughed, drawing attention to himself. "We think they are gathering funds for a larger-scale attack."
The vampire didn't look at Cleo. But then, Gordon had never liked the human. He always thought that Darius deserved someone 'better'. The problem was he thought 'better' meant thinner and more emotional, worshiping the ground Darius walked on. He didn't want that.
He didn't want love.
"They could be collecting funds to bribe the lower-ranked vampires," Cleo suggested. "Or to donate money to the outlying human settlements. Turn them to the shifter cause."
"It wouldn't be the first time," Darius agreed.
"I'm having tea with a few of the other wives today. I'll discuss an outreach program to bolster vampire relations with the outliers. I know that the recent earthquakes have caused some flooding. I'll be sure to increase aid to the areas affected."
Darius nodded, smiling at his wife. She didn't think in terms of battles and conquest, but rather how kindness could change the tide of wars. A valuable ally. In this seemingly unending war between vampires and shifters, humans were the key figures. They were vital to vampire survival, and not just because vampires required human blood to sustain themselves.
The common assumption that humans could turn into vampires was wrong. It was true that the humans who lived among vampires and were regularly fed from took on vampiric traits: their aging slowed to the point where they hardly aged at all. They also grew stronger, faster, and developed a taste for blood. But they remained human. Vampires were born vampires – and usually males at that. Without human wives like Cleo, they would be extinct within three generations.
"What are you grinning at?" Cleo narrowed her eyes at him.
"I was just remembering how we met." His voice turned low and husky. "And how I knew instantly that you were the woman to be my bride."
Cleo smirked back at him. Both of them ignored Gordon rolling his eyes.
Their first meeting was indicative of their whole relationship. There had been no romance. He had been patrolling his lands with Gordon and half a dozen sergeants. They stopped at a station in the closest city to refuel their motorcycles. Normally humans looked at them with awe, but Darius had noticed Cleo leaning against the building, gazing at the vampires as though she was measuring them up and finding them lacking.
He hadn't been able to help himself. He walked over to her. Her expression had changed slightly, and when she looked at him, her gaze lingered on the insignia on his jacket.
"You're a colonel," she had said.
"Yes, I am. If you come back to my estate with me, I'll marry you."
She had given him that cool, sharp gaze and shrugged. "I could hold out for a general, but you'll be one soon enough if I have any say in the matter. Let's go."
The wicked grin on Cleo's face showed that she was remembering as well. Darius circled the table and caught his wife in his arms.
"You took a big risk on me."
"Hardly." Cleo rolled her eyes. "I did my research. I already knew everything about you. I knew you took weekly patrols, and I knew you always stopped at that station for gas. I had everything planned. If you hadn't approached me, I would have gone to you."
With a light chuckle, Darius gave her a quick peck on the lips. She moaned, indicating her wish for more, but the vampire pulled away. It was difficult. He had been so busy lately that he hadn't actually drunk from her in almost two months. Blood bags didn't taste as good as the real deal, but drinking usually led to other things… and when he only had a few minutes to spare, he couldn’t indulge in anything.
Her scent was driving him crazy, though. She was wearing an essential oil fragrance, which most vampires didn't like. He loved it. Rose and lavender with a hint of peppermint. Delicious. Her natural scent was only enhanced by the oils.
"Gordon." Darius turned to his second-in-command. "Tell the fourth squad to prepare for departure. We're going to scour the settlements surrounding Virgil's attack. The Rebeluna is probably long gone, but we might catch something about which way they headed."
Gordon saluted and left, leaving Darius and his wife alone. Cleo gave him a coy smile and pulled her dark curls off her shoulder and stretched out her neck, offering it to him.
"Are you feeling desirous, my dear?"
Cleo shrugged. "Desirous? I desire that you don't embarrass me by collapsing from exhaustion while you're hunting shifters."
"I wouldn't be at that point for another month."
"And if the Rebeluna are closer – if this is an ambush set for you – then I don't want to be widowed. That would ruin all my plans," she added quickly. "You vampires are ridiculous. You don't marry widows unless you've killed the woman's husband. Now drink."
Darius pulled her closer. He couldn't stifle a moan as he delicately bit into her beautiful, smooth skin. Cleo gave a little gasp and clutched at his shirt. Drinking was always a sensual act, and the vampire couldn't help but growl as he sucked hard. His wife shuddered in his grasp, tangling her fingers in his hair.
He wanted more, but this was exactly why he shouldn't have drunk in the first place. Everything was getting hot and tight inside, and if there hadn’t been a strange taste to her blood, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from tearing off both their clothes and spending hours with her.
When he withdrew, Cleo moaned in disappointment.
The vampire licked his lips, frowning. "Maybe it's because I haven't been around very much and I've been stuck drinking from those plastic bags, but you taste different. More calcium, maybe. A little low on iron. And something else. You're a little… acidic. Maybe you should see your doctor."
"Oh, I did. You're probably tasting the prenatal vitamins," Cleo said matter-of-factly.
"What?"
"I'm pregnant. Three months."
Darius' jaw hung slack. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You've had more important things to deal with, hunting the Rebeluna. It'll still be six months before the baby is born, and I haven't told anyone yet. Don't look at me like that. I didn't want you distracted."
"Hmmm." Darius shook his head. She had a point. He couldn't afford distractions right now, not when he was at such a critical stage in his career. Still, she should have told him. "We'll discuss this when I return. I'm not happy with you, Cleo. I know we agreed to let each other have our secrets, but this is important."
Cleo rolled her eyes. "Just don't get yourself killed because you're worried about me. It's an empty gesture."
Darius kissed her again and shook his head. "Your concern is touching. I'll call you tonight."
"Good. Now get going before you lose your rank for being lazy."
He touched his forehead in a mock-salute and left quickly before he could give into his desires again.