Detrand

As soon as I arrived, I slammed the door behind me. Even at such a distance as this, her blood called to me. I gripped the handle, undecided about whether to go back to her. She was probably still on the ground, calling to me, so strong did my strigoi call to her. It would wear off eventually, but she would remember me.

Voices of the strigoi who constantly visited at all hours of the night filled the house, laughing and feeding. I recognized the smell of most of them, except Lily’s was absent. I couldn’t enter the chamber, not in this condition.

I would have to go to the dark-haired woman to erase her memories. If the existence of the strigoi even whispered among the living, the killing spree that ensued would be widespread. And even though they killed mostly the living, our kind would be forced underground.

I shivered. I would not live like that again.

I made to call to Rowan, or even for Sophie, to help, but I didn’t want them involved if her blood called to them as desperately as it did for mine. I was stronger than them; they would drain her in an instant.

I would have to go back alone.

I moved back towards the street, stopping to partake in another male who was walking to work on one of the ships docked nearby. I was definitely going to be sick tomorrow.

I left him alive and happy, and his blood drove my strigoi deeper inside, content. The sun would rise soon.

I found her, just down the street from where I left her. She stumbled, dazed, along the streets and I took a moment to watch her. Her face was smooth, and her dark hair trailed down her back. Her form was tight, her breasts perky, and even though she was confused, her sway captivated me.

I held my breath, not wanting my strigoi to call out to me again. It was not necessary for me to breathe, although I used it often when I was hunting. This time, I wished to avoid waking my strigoi. For if it did, I did not think that I would be able to control it this time. I stepped out in front her just before she made her way to the main road. I approached her and as soon as she saw me, her eyes lit up hopefully and I felt a bit of it enter my world, turning me upside down.

I chastised myself. She was a living. The scum of the earth, only here to feed my appetite. She could give me nothing I didn’t already have. I pushed down the hope, the light, and let the darkness enter. I was comfortable there. I realized that I didn’t call Rowan or Sophie for help because I wanted her to myself.

I grinned, and trailed my finger up her chin. I would have her one day, but I would make myself wait. Then, the delightful anticipation would be worth it.

* * *

The sun peeked on the horizon and I flew towards the door. My mind felt the pull of the dead, and it weighed on my body. I’d waited too long to return home, such was my fascination with this woman that I’d delayed returning. That was my first mistake, and it would kill me if I didn’t move faster.

I moved toward the door and rushed inside; I would not make it to my room. It did not matter, I wasn’t headed there anyway. I opened the door to Sophie’s room; she was already encased in the darkness.

“Detrand?” Her back faced the door and she was halfway dead, the pull muddying her mind. The dried flowers were on the stand by her bed.

I knew that she would be open to me in such a state. I slid in the bed beside her, and put my arm around her waist. “Please. I just need it for a moment.”

She sighed, but allowed my touch. I slid my hand up her leg, inside her nightgown and rubbed her thigh with my thumb. I could feel her senses spark and she moved to lay on her back. Her breathing became shallow, a sign that she was aroused. I moved on top of her and she put her hands on my hips. Then I kissed her with such an exquisite tenderness that she could barely feel it, and she raised her arms to me in response.

I stared into her lust-filled eyes, wanting to give her so much more than the softest kisses and the devotion of my missing soul. Holy hell, if things were different I would take her as my own again and never have another thought for any other woman. Sophie fulfilled me in ways that no other could. But times were different now, and it would be the death of her if I took her as my mate.

So I drifted back to her side and she closed her eyes in response. I stroked her arm, giving in to the pull of the dead as my senses grew dull. I spoke the thoughts that I dared not say when fully awake. “I may give her what she wants.”

Sophie didn’t answer, but I could feel the flicker of hope in her chest.

My fingers continued their path up her arm and my strigoi softened, comforted by the feel of her skin on mine and, as I drifted into the land of the dead, I was able to briefly forget the woman with the burning blood.

* * *

I awoke before Sophie and slipped out. She would be upset if she remembered that I’d come to her. The blood regurgitated in my stomach and I leaned over the bucket, allowing it to flow out. When I was finished, I pushed my finger down my throat, forcing all of it out.

I had business, and no time for this sickness.

My thoughts briefly drifted to the dark-haired woman, but I clamped down on it, and thought of her no more. For now.

I wiped the blood from my lips, and emptied the used blood out the window into the water below. Rowan or Sophie, or even the chambermaids that came in the day, need not know. The chambermaids were trustworthy and had served us for years, as their family before them. We paid them well, and they were easygoing folk with simple needs. But their knowledge of my sickness would only spread through the service workers, and it was unnecessary.

I moved towards the closet and, using the clean water that the girl brought in, washed my body. I pulled out the clean clothes and putting them on, breathed in the night air.

Sitting at the desk, made by my own hands, I studied the papers from the glass bottle. Rowan had arranged them in the order that he saw fit. Most of the debts I remembered but some were made after I left.

I stood up, pacing the floor as I waited for Rowan to rise. It wasn’t his fault that he rose later than me and I tried to be patient. I stopped by the window, my mind focused on determining who had the power and knowledge to kill Agosto. Not only did they stake him, but they cut off his head, a very personal kind of death. That, or they wanted to assure that he would have his final death, which could mean that it was a human. But not many humans knew where he lay, or had the power to enter the rooms. We trusted the humans who worked for us, but even they couldn’t enter our rooms as we slept each day. The rooms were entranced, and only certain beings could enter and must have the knowledge and ability to disarm the wards we put on the doors.

Agosto was in charge of this city. He made sure that the strigoi weren’t discovered by wiping memories and even eliminating anything deemed a threat to the strigoi, if necessary. He provided some security for the humans by enforcing punishments over the creatures if they got out of hand. He also kept the shifters, fae, and other beings under his control. But his relationship with them was beneficiary, he provided many services for them, for a fee.

Agosto knew everything that went on in this city. That was a gift of his; he just knew. Until he didn’t, and it ended him.

I grew irritable and considered leaving without Rowan, but then I heard him rising. He was sick again, and I growled. This was not acceptable, feeding uncontrollably should only be a rare occurrence unless it was done intentionally. I called out to him impatiently. “Clean up and come!”

I left the house, knowing that he would be by my side momentarily. The contracts were in the inner pocket of my jacket, and I headed towards the mayor’s mansion.

* * *

My finger stroked the mayor’s throat and he trembled under my touch. I pulled the paper from my pocket and lightly placed it on the table.

“Is this your signature?” The mayor nodded, the skin under his balding head was flaking, and I pet his head. He jerked, and then tried to pretend that he was just adjusting his suit. “Are you unable to fulfill your obligation?”

“I have half.” His voice stammered, and was unnaturally high.

I sighed, and leaned forward towards his neck and breathed in deeply. Sweat drenched his suit coat and he smelled of salt and sex, probably from the prostitutes down by the wharf. Rowan sneered, and the mayor blubbered his apology.

I frowned. “When are you able to obtain the other half?” I cleaned my nail with the edge of his knife and I smelled the wait staff hiding behind the door. “Please, by all means, bring the rest of his supper to the table.” The servants came tumbling out; the women curtsied, eyeing me seductively, while the men clumsily dashed to lay the food out.

They lay an empty plate in front of me and one in front of Rowan. I reached forward, and took my empty glass. It was quickly filled with red wine, as well as Rowan’s, who drank his greedily. I took a sip and put it back on the table.

The mayor, his face red and sweaty, stood up and went to the desk in the corner of the room. His hands fumbled as he looked through his papers, mumbling as he read through them. I already knew that he wouldn’t have the payment, no matter what date he gave me. I licked my lips in anticipation. I was always amiable to creating a new agreement.

“A fortnight. I can make half of the payment tonight, and the rest of it in a fortnight.” Even though I already knew that he wouldn’t be able to make the payment, I could tell that he was lying.

I leaned forward. “And what will happen when you won’t be able to make your payment in a fortnight?”

His breathing increased and I smelled a bit of piss. He stuttered, trying to come up with an answer, but I wasn’t really listening. I leaned back, and looked at Rowan, who had been staring across the room since we entered.

“Agosto lent you that money in good faith, and he gave you well over the time necessary to repay him.” I took another sip of my wine, and allowed it to slowly travel down my throat. “No, you’ve been given enough leniency. I demand the full payment at this time.” The mayor began to protest and I put my hand up to stop him. “If you cannot make full payment, then I am amenable to renegotiating the contract.”

I folded the contract with his signature on it and placed it near the candle, willing to light it on fire. His sigh of relief was visible, and he sat back in his chair, trying to appear relaxed.

“Send half of the payment to Agosto’s house tonight and I will release you of any further payment you owe him.”

His eyebrows shot up. “That would be incredible. I would be in your debt—”

“If,” I continued, interrupting him, “you send your daughter to visit Rowan once a week, at the house, for a period of two years.”

He stood up, slamming his hand against the table. “Absolutely not.” His wife, who had been silent until now, cried out and wrapped her arms around her only daughter. Rowan, who couldn’t take his eyes off of her from the moment she stepped in the room, now turned towards me. He was pleased, although he didn’t show it. I glanced at the young daughter, who was clasping her mother, but eyeing Rowan curiously. “You see, my friend here has been deformed since his youth, I’m afraid,” motioning to his pocked face. “A childhood illness. And he only wants for company from time to time.”

The man shook his head, but I continued. “I give you my word that she will not be harmed.”

The wife began to cry and I began to grow angry. “Either that or fulfill your end of the agreement tonight, otherwise I will send for the lawman.” My voice was cold; I was deadly serious and done trying to placate them. “You shouldn’t have agreed to this if you couldn’t fulfill it.”

“Fine.” Giving in, the mayor huffed. “To be sent to jail, a man such as I!”

I pulled out a fresh piece of paper and wrote up the new agreement. He signed it with a shaky hand and I stood up, lighting the old one on fire. These people didn’t have enough fortitude to kill Agosto; I was done with them. Rowan grabbed his glass and swallowed down the rest of his wine.

“Send her tonight, with the men who will bring your payment. We will be home in three hours. I will make sure that she returns safely, no need to leave your men there.” The mother’s wails grew louder, and the mayor grumbled about the late hour. The daughter said nothing, but merely stood up as we left and bowed. “I will fulfill my father’s obligations.”

“I’m sure you will.”

We left the room and Rowan’s nostrils flared as we walked out. As soon as we were alone, his fangs slid out. His tongue slid over them and I grinned. “Happy, Rowan?”

He bowed towards me. “Always, master.”

I pulled out the next contract and licked my lips in anticipation. “Looks like it’s the shifters next.”

* * *

As soon as I dismounted from my horse, someone tackled me and we flew through the air. Then we hit the ground, rolling through clumps of dead leaves and rocks. When we stopped, she was on top of me, her skirts already up.

“Hello, Salina.” My deep voice reverberated through the trees.

Without answering, she yanked off her blouse. Knowing what I liked, she ripped my pants open, and we started fucking in the dark woods. I rolled so that I was on top of her, my fangs extended, and I bit into her neck. I took in her blood and then sealed it with my tongue, then bit just below that, moving up and down her neck as she moaned in delight. I rolled her blood through my tongue, and my strigoi growled in satisfaction.

Her stomach was tight, lined with muscle, and my hands roamed her chest. Her breasts were small, the perfect size for her body and I flicked and pulled at her taught nipples, biting the tips to suck them as I slowly entered her, moving in and out deliberately. They were perfectly delicious.

I released my senses for a moment, wanting to fill her cravings. Always willing to give them whatever they desired, I maneuvered her so that her back was towards me. I spread her legs and entered her from behind, then I pulled her arms tight behind her so that her chest was pressed out, her breasts open to the woods and her back arching, raking my teeth at the back of her neck. I moved in and out slowly, taking my time as she panted under my ministrations. Her moans grew louder as I hit her delicate spot over and over. I lingered to draw out the thing that she wanted the most.

Feeling her desires through my senses, I turned her back to me. My teeth scraped her skin, sending nerve-wracking sensations as I licked the dirt and blood from her body. She was begging me now, the small sound of her pleas urging me on as my fingers moved through her blond hair, teasing her. I found her sensitive spot as my fangs clamped onto the large vein in her leg. She cried out, coming onto my fingers, and when I’d had my fill of her delectable blood, I licked her sweet syrup slowly, my tongue working so masterfully that her body tensed, ready to peak again. Then I was in her, pounding furiously, until I released myself into her as she exploded under me. I fell on top of her, breathless, and my hands fondled the side of her breast until her heart finally slowed and she looked up at me, the satisfaction on her face clear. “Welcome home, Detrand.”

* * *

We advanced into the rambling mansion and Rowan was already partaking of the willing shifter they’d prepared. I clicked my tongue at him, reminding him that the daughter would be joining us later. He pulled harder, his eyes on mine rebelliously, and I moved away towards the table. My body hummed, my strigoi completely satisfied, as I sat down.

Salina nodded to the corner of the room where the payment for services rendered was already gathered. I nodded, knowing that it would be. The shifters and the strigoi served each other well in this city. That was partly because when the Alpha of the pack died, Agosto made a pact with Salina, the Alpha’s mate. He was willing to be the leader of the pack while Salina covered most of the day-to-day duties. With no other Alpha to contend with, Agosto and Salina worked together seamlessly.

“Are you staying?” She sat across from me. Leaves littered her bright red hair and she pulled them out, grinning. She put her feet on my lap.

I looked around the room, my fingers stroking her ankles. She fumbled with a coin that was on the table. “Are you replacing Agosto?”

I considered her, studying the lines on her face. We had a history that began long before she was mated to the Alpha, and it was one that we both enjoyed immensely. But shifters behaved differently, they were always tied to the pack and I was unwilling to be part of it. I had to be careful or she would become possessive.

“Your pack is still strong.” I nodded to the readied payment.

She nodded and her eyes wandered to the large pack who had gathered in the room. Theirs was an older pack, and they held a lot of strength and wisdom. But it lacked new blood and included only a small amount of children, considering how big the pack was. A battle with the fae several years ago killed off many of the younger shifters, who were hard to find among the living, and so the future of their pack was uncertain.

Rowan sat in a chair, with them at his feet, like children. He told them the stories of Drakyele, a myth that we told outsiders. His words wove like magic over their heads and they leaned in to listen intently. We never told them the truth of our magic, purely for self preservation, even though many had learned the truth passed down from the vampire hunters. No matter how well we got along with other creatures, you never knew when one was ready to stab you in the heart with a wooden spike.

Occasionally one of the male shifters glanced our way. My presence here was important.

When an Alpha dies, he must be replaced immediately or the pack will fall apart. Agosto was strong enough to fill the Alpha’s role without joining the pack. But I was not Agosto. They wanted to know if I would be strong enough to control them. I wondered if one of the men known for their Alpha traits would challenge me.

I sighed. Filling Agosto’s shoes was not my intention when I returned, but I knew that I had to decide if I would do it soon. If I dithered, the city would become overrun with the different creatures, ready to make a play for control of the city.

I considered my options as I stroked Salina’s knee. If this was something that I decided to do, I would be tied to the city and unable to roam freely like before. I would probably also have to take a mate.

My strigoi growled.

I was happy with my freedom to partake in whomever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Being tied to a mate would only make her unhappy because I was no longer willing to tie myself to one woman. But holding the power over a large city usually required a mated strigoi.

I sat forward, my hand sliding up Salina’s leg. “I need information.”

She sat back, her arms crossed over her chest, but she let my hand wander higher, stroking her thigh. “I know what you need.”

I raised my eyebrow. “How do you know?”

“I can read your thoughts. I know that your primary objective is to discover Agosto’s killer. And that you’d rather be on a ship back to Italy, where your harem awaits.”

I dropped my hand and frowned. “It’s not a harem.”

She watched my body language carefully, so I licked my fingers slowly, tasting her on my fingers. I stared into her eyes as her heart rate picked up.

She spoke quietly, as if in a trance, as her eyes followed my tongue. “You may not call it that, but there are whispers that travel across the sea and I hear them all.”

Suddenly, I leaned forward menacingly, my fangs extended, and I could smell her fear. And her stupidity. “It’s not a harem.”

Her lips trembled but she shrugged. “It is not up to me to judge.”

“You cannot read my thoughts, but have only guessed at what is whispered in the streets, and at what is seen as plain as day on my face.” I leaned in closer and hooked my finger in her shirt, slowly pulling her closer. The room was suddenly quiet, and all eyes were on me. “You will not deceive me; I have eyes that see into the dark. And your motives call to me, like a siren on the rocks. You wish me to become your Alpha, but I will not. I am here to revenge my sire’s death, and then, and only then, will I make a decision. The city will have to wait.”

She held her breath, undecided if she wanted to tear my throat out, or have me on the table. Even though I told her that I would not be her Alpha, I didn’t reveal if I would allow her to continue to rule, and the future of her pack was more important than her feelings for me. She lowered her eyes, as did the eyes of all in the room as they showed their acquiesce to me. I stood up. “You will send my payment and any information you have to my home tonight.” She nodded.

Rowan stood up, and the pups played at his feet, pulling on his legs. They laughed as he brought his knees up high, swinging them forward. I grabbed one of the girls and threw her into the air. She screamed out, delighted, as I caught her.

“Again, again.”

Suddenly all of the little ones were at my feet, begging for their turn. Rowan and I left the house, taking the pups out into the field and throwing them into the air one by one until Salina called them in for bed. They gathered to the house begrudgingly, until we promised to do it the next time we visited. As I mounted my horse, the yellow eyes of one of the male shifters, his name unknown to me, stared at me from the window. I turned my back to him, but sent my senses tumbling towards him. They knocked him down and he gasped, surprised. For a second, he was open to me, and I knew his darkest desires. I rode off, intending to pay him a visit later.

* * *

We visited the homes of landholders of the shops on main street, and of the proprietor who ran the ships at the docks. I didn’t need to visit all of contracts we held, just the ones necessary to make a statement. No one was protected from me, unless I was willing to offer it.

Many of them despised Agosto, even though his generosity had been given in abundance. But power always draws the ambitious, who are resentful if they imagine any slight. Just as he had taught me, Agosto knew the hearts and minds of the living and the creatures that bound with him, even if they did not know the secrets that we held. They knew only enough to be afraid, as they whispered in the dark of our origins.

If at any moment they opened themselves to me, I probed them softly with my senses, sending their hearts racing in their desire to please me. I watched their every move, but they were practiced in the art of deception and I knew that I would have to drive them out to discover the killer.

Shortly before the payments would arrive, I determined to make one last stop. Only because it was necessary; I had received word that he was waiting.

I entered his home like the others, without permission, even though he would’ve given it freely. But I didn’t need it like the other strigoi, so I did not ask. Rowan waited at the door, and I called him to enter.

The man’s home was small, much smaller than the others, and in the darkness of the night, his sickness called to me. He sat on a worn chair, his fire low. I could smell his fear, like the others, but also could feel the warmness that he extended to me.

“Come, come.” He waved his arm in my direction and to Rowan and gestured to the gin laid out on the table.

I sat on the sofa across from him, and studied the way he leaned on his left side, his right side giving him pains.

I cleared my throat, wanting to speak softly. “I heard you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “That I am.”

“I have not come to collect from you.”

Rowan poured his drink, and offered me one. When I declined, he poured another and gave it to the man. Bennett was his name, and his eyes were as soft as the hazy wheat blowing in the wind on a summer day. He took a glass from Rowan, not answering me until he had warmed his throat.

“Aye, but I am a man of my word.” He looked at the ground, the fire reflected off his eyes as he studied the floor and grasped the glass loosely in his hands. “You’re aware of her death?”

I nodded. “She was a good woman. I only wish I could’ve done more.”

His hands tightened on the glass. “You did enough. But even your disease couldn’t save her in the end.”

Rowan slammed his glass on the table. “She lived long enough, thanks to Detrand. She would’ve died much sooner if not for him.”

I raised my hand to Rowan. “Calm, calm. It is acceptable.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “His grief has made him mad.”

I jerked my head to Rowan, my eyes in slits. “Yes, it has.” It was a warning, this man was not to be touched. He was under my direct protection.

Rowan bowed his head and I turned back to Bennett.

“I have no need of payment from you, only your smile and good blessing on my damned soul, and for those under me.”

Bennett shifted in his seat, the pain making him wince. “I will not give it.”

My incisors extracted, my strigoi feeling threatened, but I forced them back. “Then what will you give?”

“I am fortunate enough that I have payment, and then I may die a happy man and return to my sweet Colleen.”

I studied his threadbare clothing, and although the house was scrubbed clean, the house had aged considerably since my last visit over twenty years ago. I scooted closer and his eyes slid to mine, the pain in them shining through. I held my hand out and, after hesitating, he gave me his and opened himself to me.

The pain wracked me in that instant and I understood his need for payment. He was dying a slow and painful death and wanted to settle his accounts before he did, which would come soon. He felt that he could never be able to repay me, even after a lifetime of working, unless I took the one thing he cherished the most.

He would never know, nor would I allow him, that the debt was all mine, and I owed him everything I owned and more. He would die a happy and wealthy man if I paid him my debt, but he did not desire it, so I disclosed nothing. Instead, I gave him what I could and flooded him with my senses, reminding him of the happiness he once felt. He remembered the smiles of his wife and the life he once lived, without pain. He relaxed, and I made to go as he began to drift off to a hearty sleep.

We were silent as the night, as we turned from his home. He managed to mumble his apology that he could not see us out, and that he would send payment the next evening. When his snores reached our ears, we were down the street, and Rowan’s fangs were already extended in anticipation of the daughter he would soon regard.

* * *

As Rowan and I traveled towards home, I studied him.  He was eager to return.  “You are not to drink from that girl tonight.”

He stopped and my horse trailed ahead of his. “I will.”

“You’ve had enough to drink. Your strigoi should be satisfied.”

His horse began to move again. “I’ve not the luxury of time and power. Your control over your strigoi is admirable, and spoken of in the circles of the dead. They say you were born that way, that you never lost control of your blood lust.”

“That’s not true.”

“My bones are weary and my mind stale. I am a tired strigoi.”

“You are an adolescent, and only must learn control over your lust.” I turned towards him. “You were not this way before, but you were a child then. Did not Agosto teach you as the time passed?”

“Agosto was busy with other things.”

I slowed my horse so that we were face-to-face. “And his final death has shaken you.”

Rowan looked forward. “It has, but not for the reasons that you think.” He clicked his tongue and his horse began to move forward. He rode with his back straight, his hands tightly clasping the reins. As I watched the ass of his horse as he moved away, I considered using my senses to detect his needs, but determined against it. We rode in silence towards the house.

As we approached the door, I grasped his arm. “You will not drink from the girl tonight. If Agosto was too busy to teach you, then the responsibility falls on me.”

He hissed at me, his incisors already extended as the saliva dripped from his mouth. “You have no right to deny me.”

I leaned in closer. “I have every right. You will not drink from her tonight.”

He yanked his arm out of my grasp and moved inside. There were several men inside the door, patiently waiting for our return. The daughter stood among them, her back against the wall and her eyes wide, watching us as we entered. I ignored her, and ordered Rowan to begin counting the payments.

She watched everything that we did, and the men slowly drifted out as we went through the accounts until only the mayor’s was left. I viewed the small pile of gold coins on the table before me and eyed her wearily.

“Where is the rest?”

She stared at the floor in response, and my eyes trailed over her trembling rosy lips. “Hmm? Is this all he sent?” When she didn’t respond, I ordered the rest of his men away, and they scrambled towards the door. Only one turned to look at her, concerned, but Rowan led him away, until we were alone in the foyer.

Several strigoi were in the dining room and I could hear the wispy voice of Lily. So she was back. Their laughter drifted down the hallway and I sensed that that was the reason for the girl’s sudden shyness. I tipped her chin higher to look at me in the eyes, which was very dangerous for her. “What’s your name, girl?”

“Lula Belle.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Sir.”

“How old are you, Lula Belle?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

I pretended to looked shocked. “And unmarried, what a pity. Are you still untouched?” She did not answer, but folded her arms about her chest, staring into my eyes boldly. Her blouse was thin, and it hugged her figure tight, the buttons fastened to her throat. I watched a blond curl from her hair as it clung to her neck. At my stare, her light green eyes dropped, but I shifted so that she was forced to look back into my eyes.

“Do you love your father?”

“I do.”

“And do you realize that he does not love you?”

Her eyes widened and her voice shook. “Sir?”

“He has not sent me the coins he promised. Does he think me stupid?”

She choked on her reply. “Of course not.”

I reached for the nape of her neck and pulled her close, my lips next to her ear. She smelled of soap and innocence, and she trembled under my touch. “If he cannot keep his promises, how can he expect me to keep my word to keep you safe?”

She shook her head, fear pouring from her skin. “I don’t-don’t know. I’m sure he miscounted. He was drunk. I can order his accountant to send the rest tomorrow.”

“But I did not request the money be sent tomorrow. The deadline is tonight.”

“Then I will run home. I’m very fast. I’ll have him send the rest immediately.”

“That won’t be necessary.” I stood back, releasing her and she released a shaky breath. “I am a man of my word, even if your father is not.” I turned to Rowan. “Send word to her mother that she will not return to her home until two years has passed.” She gasped, but I continued. “Her father cares for her so little, he doesn’t deserve her presence. But her mother will be allowed to visit her here.” I turned to her, gripping her chin until her eyes reached mine. “You are not to return home until two years has passed. And you are to tell no one of your time here. You understand?” She nodded, my compulsion taking full force.

I turned back to Rowan. “You may take the rest of the payment, as you wish, but do not kill her.”

He grinned, and she shrieked, backing into the wall. I walked away as Rowan descended on her.

Ignoring the party that was moving into the foyer, the strigoi were always attracted to the shrieks of the living, I opened the door to my workshop. I breathed deeply through my nose, smelling the wonderful aroma of aged oak. It stood in sheets at the far end of the room, just as instructed. I took off my shirt and lay it on the hook on the far wall. Then I looked over the sheets of oak carefully, selecting one, and centered it on my worktable. I ran my hands over it in fluid motions, feeling all the rough spots that would become smooth under my ministrations. I took a step back to assess it, forming and shaping it in my mind. Looking through my tools, I selected the perfect one and began my work. I took my time, working as slowly as the living, and ignoring the moans and laughter coming from the other room until the wood began to bend to my will.

As I bent over my table, a trickle of water dripped onto the wood. I closed my eyes, my tool gripped tightly in my hand, and shook my head. “The dead are never dead, unless they are forgotten.”

A hand ran over my chest, and her breath was on my neck.

“You are not forgotten, nor ever will be.”

“I will be forgotten.” Her voice was in my ear.

I growled. “Never.”

She appeared in front of me, her rear on the wood and she wrapped her legs around my waist. Her body shuddered and she tasted the droplets of water that beaded on her lips. My fangs descended; she was as beautiful in death as she had been in life, and I longed for her warmth one more time.

“To the day I die my final death, you will never be forgotten. I will never forget your smile that brightened my day or the laughter that spilled from your lips. Or the way your hand always found mine.” I pulled my hand through her damp hair and she tilted her head towards me. “I will never forget your body under mine, trembling and tender, or your moans into the night and early morning.”

“You have another.”

“They mean nothing to me, only a way to satisfy my strigoi. And to forget my pain for a while. You were the only one who could hold my heart.”

She grinned and I pulled her face to mine, softly tasting her cold, dry lips. “You are mine and always will be.”

And then she was gone, her words a tickle in my ears. “Come for me soon.”

I sighed, and the desire to rip Sophie from her company and take her into my room and mark her as mine was so strong that I had to grip the oak under my hands to keep from doing so. The wood bowed and snapped and I shoved it to the floor, frustrated that I would have to begin again. After calming my strigoi, I pulled another sheet of wood and started over. After some hours, I glanced towards the window. It would be light soon.

Walking past the sitting room, I glanced inside to find Sophie retired to her room and most of the guests sleeping lazily, spread out across the room. Lula Belle slept soundly on the couch. Her head was in Rowan’s lap, her skirts to her knees and blood dripping from her neck. The collar of her shirt was open, his hand on her breast. I eyed him wearily, but he didn’t look drunk. He stared at her, a note of admiration on his face.

“And you drunk your fill?”

His head shifted to look at me, the pockmarks on his face gleaming in the candlelight. He raised his eyebrow. “I have.”

“And was she satisfied as well?”

He grinned. “She was.”

“Good.” I went to the closet, pulled out my coat and hat, and opened the front door.

“Where are you off to?”

I breathed in the smells of the street, and felt for the knife tucked in my pocket. I released my strigoi, allowing the hunters instincts to come over me. I shut the door and strode towards the mayor’s mansion.