Kron didn't fully drain his victims. He didn't devour them and pick their flesh off their bones.
He took their blood to increase his power as a blood demon lord, and tortured them to awaken their beasts, and snap the connection between their human selves to turn them into rogues. He turned the humans into beasts. Just as some demon lords of chaos created conflict and chaos to feed their power, Kron, being the demon Lord of Beasts and Bloodshed needed blood and the destructive power of the beast to sustain and empower him.
She was supposed to drop these rogues back to New Moon City and let their beasts go on a rampage. But she picked her drop off points carefully. She tried to drop them off where they would do the least damage to others and themselves, and where they could receive the help they needed, hopefully.
Charlene sighed. These victimizing hooligans had now become victims themselves. Yup, karma was a bitch. She was that bitch.
As far as possible, Charlene had tried not to drag any innocent civilian off the streets, and had waited until she could snag a criminal one, or at least one that as far as she could tell, had criminal and cruel intentions.
She'd pulled a would-be rapist and a robber off their victims. She had sunk her fangs into a brute who had been smashing his wife's face in. Dredging through the darker parts of the city for scum wasn't that hard, but it took time. And Kron wasn't the patient sort.
Charlene gulped, closing her eyes briefly. She feared that soon she would be forced to take an innocent. And then she would be well and truly lost.
She opened her eyes at the grinding sound. The floorboard wobbled and on the carpet crouched a large, rabid hyena, its eyes blood red and its jaws bleeding and salivating.
She eyed the animal, circling it warily. This one had not the slightest trace of its human self. It wasn't even stuck in a half shift, trapped in a half human, half animal form as it struggled against its beast taking over completely. This rogue was fully feral, completely animal.
She frowned. She didn't remember dragging a werehyena back to Kron. This must have been brought to him by his other blood demons. She didn't know how many blood demons he had under his command and control. None of the demons lived at the castle with Kron.
Charlene had her own place in the city. Or rather, Kron had given her a neat, luxurious loft in the city, fully furnished and completely rent free. Kron made it a point to provide lavish housing for his underlings. He also made it a point to house his henchmen and henchwomen separately, away from one another. She had never met Kron's other demons. Just last night, after she brought him his supper, he had told her to wait outside his study. She'd heard voices, shrieks and screams coming from the study but when the doors flew open, she had found Kron completely alone, smiling and seated calmly behind his huge desk.
Divide and rule was always the strategy of an insecure despot.
She might be a newly Made demoness, but she wasn't born yesterday. When she bled, she had seen that her blood was still red, not black. And Kron didn't seem to control every aspect of her. He could Summon her, and once she heard his voice in her head, she would have to teleport to him immediately, or he would yank some invisible leash and drag her through the Abyss to him. Kron had delighted in showing her how the Summoning worked on her very first night as a blood demoness. Being dragged through the Abyss again was no fun at all, to say the least.
But the scare tactic had backfired on Kron. Charlene's initial fear and awe of the demon lord had dropped many notches after that stunt. She had absolutely no respect and regard for insecure, impotent bosses who scared their underlings into submission.
Charlene had dealt with jerks and creeps before as a human. She had seen how some male colleagues and bosses tried to abuse their authority and power at the work place and at home. Fear had been one of their often-used weapons. Fear of reprisal, fear of violence. To get away with their corruption and cowardice, they would try to scare their subordinates or family into silence and submission. She had learned to stay away from such people for the sake of her little sister, her only family. She needed to stay safe, sane and functional.
Kron was her demon Maker. He could Summon her and yank her leash, but he couldn't control her actions and her choices. Even demons had free will. So—as long as she brought him what he wanted, she was free to roam the city and do her own thing once she had discharged her duty.
Charlene stared at the snarling hyena and sighed. Should she drop this one off at the animal shelter, the zoo, the police station, or near a watering hole she knew was frequented by PAC Enforcers? The beast lunged at her, and Charlene dodged its teeth at the last minute. Digging her claws into its back, she held it tightly and teleported away.
She would drop this off near the watering hole.
Then she would go back to her apartment, rinse off all this grime and blood, and begin her search for her sister. Charlotte was no longer living in their old house. It had been sold, and Charlene didn't blame her. The house probably held too many painful memories for Charlotte. The girl had lost both her parents, and she'd had to watch her big sister die. After Charlene's 'death', getting rid of the place and all those terrible memories was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
But where could Charlotte be living now?
Charlene would search the whole city, scour all the streets and alleys to find her little sister.
Live, she had told Charlotte. She had lived, and she was sure Charlotte had as well. She knew that Charlotte was alive. She could feel it in her bones, in her heart, in her very soul—assuming she still had one.
She was back in New Moon City just three days. And already she had so much blood on her hands.
CHAPTER FOUR
Glenn misted into the lobby of the PAC Headquarters. Stanley, the night security guard, greeted him without batting an eyelid. “Good evening, Mr Constantine.”
Glenn nodded at the old vampire, “Evening, Stanley.”
Striding into the lift, he stabbed the button for the top floor and grabbed the few seconds of silence to clear his thoughts.
What was Charlene Cole doing, and who was she doing it for? She had teleported away with the rogue werewolf instead of leaving him where he was after taking his blood. And by drinking the werewolf's blood, she had clearly broken PAC laws. Should he report her to the Enforcers? Should he reveal to the Council that the supposedly deceased elder sister of the PAC Alpha's mate was now a blood demoness, who had possibly gone rogue?
Glenn's fangs elongated and ground down on his lower lip.
Six seconds were up.
The lift door dinged open.
Glenn snapped his eyes open and walked resolutely to the tall double doors of the PAC conference room.
He took a moment to compose himself, forcing his fangs to retract. He couldn't and wouldn't lie to the Council. He would...just have to choose his words very carefully.
Glenn put his palm against the solid door for a couple of heartbeats before pushing it open. He nodded to the Council members present and took his seat. An animated discussion was taking place between Samantha and the warlock Grayson Volan. The witch and the warlock were discussing an upcoming magickal conference that the PAC was hosting for the coven Elders from the various cities. There were a few logistical issues to be resolved, and Samantha and Grayson weren't exactly seeing eye to eye.
Glenn glanced around the long table. All the Council members were present, except Zorath. The demon prince probably had his hands full putting his army and his kingdom back in order after his recent bloody battle against Prince Deviazel, a rapacious, bloodthirsty demon prince who had been eyeing Zorath's kingdom for eons. The powerful bear shifter, Blake Madden, had been instrumental in Zorath's victory, but looking at Blake, who was lounging in his swivel chair in jeans and a gray tank top, you'd never guess that he had just been in a fight to the death against a deadly demon army. It was one maddened bear, defending his mate against a horde of red-skinned demons, and the bear had won. Blake looked relaxed, happy, blissfu
l. He had found, fought for, and claimed his mate, and it was clear that he and Jasynta, the PAC's witch doctor and healer, were enjoying their honeymoon period. Jett Riley, Head of the Enforcement Unit, had snorted, “Bear and honey, so honey-moon, get it? Ha, ha, ha!”
Jett was nudging and whispering jokes to Ella Wong, the PAC Secretary and werepanther, trying to distract her from her job of recording the minutes of the meeting. Ella rolled her eyes and growled at Jett, leaving Jett to chortle at his own jokes.
But Glenn knew that Jett's joking manner was just a front. The human was tougher, cleverer and even more scarred inside than a lot of paranormals. When it came to training and leading his Enforcers, Jett didn't joke around at all. He was firm, demanding, and brutal—according to the rookie Enforcers. He had heard some of the female Enforcers whispering among themselves: “Jett has two steel rods, one in front, and one up his a—”
Keagan Slater, the weredragon was sitting beside the PAC's honorary member, Helen Satchi, a weretiger and the previous Alpha of the PAC. Lucas had granted her the title of Emeritus Alpha, and allowed her a seat on the Council, but she had no voting rights. Helen was more than a little abrasive and resentful towards Lucas, but Lucas was a strong, secure alpha wolf and Glenn respected him for his strength and good humor. Though he had to admit that it was only after Lucas's mating with Charlotte Cole that his humor had vastly improved.
How would Charlotte and Lucas react if they knew about Charlene and what she had become?
Glenn shifted in his seat and Lucas's sharp eyes slid to him. Lucas waited until Samantha and Grayson were done, then spoke up, his eyes still pinned on Glenn, “It seems we have a civilian daredevil vampire who is playing superhero to damsels in distress now. Know anything about that?”
At this, Jett stopped teasing Ella and jolted upright in his seat.
“We've had a few bewildered females come running to the PAC these last few nights, giving conflicting accounts of a “supervamp”. A werefox reported being saved from a mugger by...” Jett glanced down at his notes, and reported the facts briskly and succinctly to the Council. “I quote: 'a strange, super strong woman with crazy scary fangs'. And we've just received a call from a witch, claiming to have been rescued from a rogue werewolf by a female vampire. The witch insisted that we arrest the werewolf, not the female vamp. She said we should find the vamp and give her a medal.” Jett flipped through his notes, his expression becoming grim. “A human woman was rushed to the hospital by her neighbors who heard screams and horrible noises coming from her kitchen. The woman had been battered half to death. But she managed to give her statement to the human police and our Enforcers. She said her husband was on a rampage again, beating her up in her kitchen, when this woman appeared out of nowhere and stopped her abusive husband by biting him in the neck. Then she disappeared with him.”
Jett looked up and said, “I've briefed my Enforcers to be on the lookout for a vigilante female vampire, but because of the conflicting witnesses' accounts, there's no proper description. All we know is that she's female, dresses like a vamp and drinks those thugs like a vamp. We have to warn her to stop doing that. Vigilantism is one thing. Going rogue is...” He blew out a breath.
“For now, it sounds like we have a young vampire vigilante, who has decided to run around New Moon City and chase rogues on her own in her free time,” Lucas said and turned to Glenn. “Glenn, you are one of the Master vampires in the city. Is she—one of yours? Do you have any idea who this vampire might be?”
Glenn took a breath. He knew that they were talking about Charlene. What could he say? “No, she is not mine,” he answered quietly. Yet.
“Can you find her?” Jett asked, leaning forward. “I can send a team of Enforcers to assist you...”
“No!” Glenn's voice was louder and harsher than he intended.
The voices around the table fell silent and everyone turned to Glenn.
“I mean, I think I'll be able to find her on my own,” Glenn said quickly. “No need to pull your Enforcers off their patrol.”
Jett shrugged. “When you find this ballsy vigilante, ask her to sign up for our Enforcer's training program,” Jett called out, keeping his eyes on Glenn. “This gal sounds like someone we could use. I think I love her already.”
Glenn's dark eyes blazed and his fangs stabbed out at Jett's last sentence.
Love her? Love his mate?
Glenn forced his fangs to retract. His mate?
Could she be...?
Glenn blinked, the image of her beautiful face searing into his mind. Was Charlene really his? The attraction and the pull was the first indication. But there was really only one true way to find out.
He would have to take her to his bed, and take her blood.
Take a blood demoness to his bed?
For the first time and to his own amazement, the thought didn't repulse him.
Glenn shook himself, and was suddenly aware that every Council member was staring at him. A few were frowning, others gave him curious, knowing smiles, and yet others were chuckling softly.
Lucas broke the silence by leaning forward to say, “You know her, don't you, Glenn? You know who she is.”
Glenn kept his face straight, refusing to release Charlene's name to the PAC. Not yet.
“I may have an inkling. But I have to make sure. I promise I will find her,” he said at last.
“Do it.” Lucas nodded, and moved the discussion onto the next item on the agenda. A thrill-seeking, rogue-kicking female vigilante wasn't much of a threat to the city, and the PAC wasn't overly concerned. They just wanted to find her, and bring her in, possibly into the PAC's Enforcement Unit.
But Glenn knew that Charlene was skating on thin ice. Paper thin ice that already had cracks snaking across the surface.
Time was running out for her.
Made demons were not like natural demons or born demons. Made demons were tethered to their Maker, and usually only an ancient demon lord could Make demons.
And the fact that she had been let loose upon the city as a new blood demoness and made to hunt for blood showed what kind of demon lord she served. One that was self-serving, sadistic and savage.
He had to find her, fast.
And after he found her, that was when the real fight would begin.
He would have to fight, with her, perhaps against her. But he would fight for her.
He had lost her once, and he would not lose her again.
CHAPTER FIVE
Glenn misted into his office. It was late afternoon, and Philomi had made sure that all the shutters were firmly drawn, so that not a sliver of sunlight breached his office. As a rather old, rather powerful Master vampire, he could tolerate some sunlight, but it wasn't exactly comfortable. Philomi was thoughtful, and maternal towards him. Glenn smiled wryly. He was close to nine hundred years old, but Philomi merely saw him as a young man in his early thirties.
Glenn scrolled through his emails, and saw one from an unknown sender. He was about to pick up the phone when there was a knock on the door and Philomi waltzed in with a stack of paperwork in her arms.
“How do you always know when I've come in when I don't use the door?” he asked his secretary as she deposited the documents on his desk.
“How long have I worked for you?” she answered his question with her own rhetorical question.
“About twenty-five years.”
“Quarter of a century, and still I'm here, working at the same company, for the same boss, who asks the same question every time I knock on his door and come in exactly thirty seconds after he mists into his office,” Philomi finished with a hand on her hip.
Glenn scrubbed his chin. “I must be getting old.”
“Hmmph,” Philomi said by way of reply.
“All right, what have you got for me today?” Glenn rubbed his hands as if in glee, as he leaned over the mountainous paperwork.
“The usual. Checks and minutes to sign, draft agreements, some letters. And, you have a dinner
invitation. Here, this just came in today.”
As he took the opened envelope and pulled out an embossed card, his secretary went on in her usual efficient manner, “The invitation is from Mr Sideous Kron. He's inviting you to dinner at his home this evening at eight o'clock sharp.”
Glenn turned the invitation card over. The address was clearly printed on the card, but he already knew where Sideous Kron lived.
Glenn frowned at the invitation card that was embossed with cryptic symbols all over. Dinner? With the demon lord? What was that old demon really up to?
Philomi stood at his side and was squinting at his computer screen.
“Oh, that.” She pointed at the email he was about to delete. “The invitation came by email as well. The sender was unknown, the email address was hidden. But it said the same thing. That Mr Sideous Kron requests the pleasure of your company tonight at his place.”
Glenn flipped the invitation card between his fingers. “Mr Kron has listed his home telephone number here. Call and let him know that I am happy to accept his invitation to dinner.”
Philomi nodded, took the card from him, and closed the door to his office softly behind her.
Glenn leaned back in his chair. Harvey had called him last night to report on his uneventful reconnaissance of Sideous Kron's residence. “All seems quiet on the demon front,” was what Harvey had said. “But I really can't see much from where I am. Dragons don't have X-ray vision.”
Sideous Kron had been careful to stay out of the spotlight and had chosen to remain in the shadows of New Moon City thus far, but Glenn sensed that things were about to change. Things were about to get real.
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