by Ella Frank
Alasdair grimaced. Vasilios was right. It was not safe to go after the messenger himself, and that frustrated the hell out of him. His instinct was to protect Vasilios, but his Ancient’s instinct to protect him was much stronger.
“You will not go after them, Alasdair.”
“I know,” he said. Deciding to focus on something else, he asked, ”They? You keep saying they. Do you know who’s sending these scrolls?”
A frown of consternation formed between Vasilios’s eyebrows. “We have some suspicions. The only ones who would be powerful enough to enter the Chamber would be the gods themselves. But, as of now, we can’t be certain.”
Alasdair ran a hand down Vasilios’s arm, and when he got to his fingers, he brought them up and placed them over his chest—over the heart Vasilios had once stopped to give him life eternal.
“But surely you don’t suspect them? Gods?” Alasdair scoffed. “What would they want with us? And why now, when they’ve never shown their faces before?”
Vasilios laughed, but the sound was not one of joy. “Oh, I do not suspect the deities themselves. They would never deem this task worthy of them. They would send someone in their place…”
Alasdair remained silent, trying to absorb all that he’d learned to decide how to proceed.
Our lineage.
Back where it all began.
My death.
Our destruction.
Myths…Greek gods.
As all the words jumbled through his mind, Alasdair’s eyes shifted to the motionless man beside them.
The one who could paralyze him with his blood.
Who could somehow remember what happens during a compulsion.
And the same one who was a walking, talking encylofuckingpedia on everything Greek—gods included.
The coincidence was too much for him to overlook, and the confusion inside him turned to blinding rage.
He’d known betrayal in his life. He’d lived through too many generations not to know the bitter taste of it. But as it finally fell into place, ending Leo’s life seemed like the easier task.
He ordered his mind blank, not wanting Vasilios to see what he was thinking.
Not yet.
“Don’t overly worry yourself, Vasilios. Nothing has managed to kill me yet,” he said in an effort for them to move on or end the conversation so he could find Isadora and Thanos. He desperately needed an opinion that wasn’t his own.
He expected the usual smirk or perhaps a slap at his own arrogance, but instead, Vasilios said, “They created us, Alasdair. They know our strengths and weaknesses because they’re the ones who gave them. Do not be fooled. They do have the capability to end us. And to do that, they know they must start with you. “
ISADORA SAT ACROSS from Thanos and watched him pour another finger of bourbon.
It was his third in under thirty minutes, and she envied his constitution. If she had his fortitude when it came to alcohol, she’d be joining him. As it was, she was forced to sit there with an excruciating ache in her right shoulder joint courtesy of Diomêdês, who had dislocated it.
He’d instructed her, not a second after it was done, to leave it as it was until Alasdair returned. Maybe then she’d be less willing to play the faithful right hand to an impulsive fool. If she did not, he’d been more than clear that he would think up something more atrocious to remind her that his word was her law.
That’d been over two and a half hours ago, and she was getting to the point that, when Alasdair did show up, she might just willingly rip her own arm off and beat him with it.
She couldn’t believe the colossal fuck-up they’d made, but at the same time, it was hardly their fault. The three of them had been kept in the dark. She understood that the Ancients had been trying to protect them, but in the process, they’d hidden important information. Information about their very existence.
When she’d emerged from her sire’s chambers after an hour-long lecture, she’d immediately gone in search of Thanos. Since Alasdair was out—no doubt chasing around that fool human—she figured the sooner she tracked her other cousin down, the quicker she could find out what he’d been told. She soon discovered he knew nothing more than she did.
“Maybe you should let up on those,” she suggested, looking pointedly at the half-full glass in Thanos’s hand.
They were sitting in the Adjudication Room, awaiting Alasdair’s arrival. The copious amounts of alcohol Thanos was downing and the way she was twisting the rose charm on her choker were both clear indications of their nerves.
But who can blame us? Threats of your impending death and the entire race’s termination will do that to you.
“Don’t concern yourself with me. I’m fine. I’m bored…but I’m fine.” Thanos stood, holding the bottle of bourbon. Then he paced back and forth across the plush rug she was stretched out on. “Maybe you should start drinking, Isa. Especially if what we were told tonight is true.”
Cradling her lame arm across her waist, she pursed her lips, contemplating the idea. Then she shook her head. “No. I want to be coherent when Alasdair gets here. Not so drunk I’m passed out on the floor.”
Thanos raised the glass and took a swig of the amber-colored liquid. “Well, you’re already lying on it. Why not make this more fun for me? Tell me, Isa. What’s it like to be the only vampire who can still become inebriated?”
She glared over at his smirking face. “Painful, because I have to lie here one hundred percent sober and listen to you.”
“Aww, don’t be bitter. I’m not even a little bit drunk.”
“I’m not. It’s just one of the many unfortunate by-products of my human genetics. Nothing I can do about it.”
“No, I don’t suppose there is. But come on. Just one glass while we wait.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop it, Thanos.”
He winked at her, and as she was about to say more, Alasdair appeared inside the room, dressed in all black, his human draped over his shoulder.
He looked like the devil himself—and the scowl he wore spoke of bloody murder. He let the male in his hands fall at his feet with a thump, and as Isadora looked over at the human, Alasdair asked, “Did you know?”
She brought her eyes up to his and indicated her damaged arm. “Do I look as though I knew?”
His eyes swept over her, and once he’d registered the loose limb, he inspected Thanos. “Of course you are in one piece, as always.”
Thanos shrugged and slid his free hand into his pocket. “Well, Eton is away at the moment, and I didn’t partake in the beheading of an informant.”
Isadora sat up then, and snapped around to face him. “We didn’t know he was an informant.”
“Yes. Well, apparently, your sires don’t really care about that little fact.” Thanos sighed. “I have to say, Alasdair, I’m surprised you are still able to walk.”
“As am I,” Alasdair muttered.
“Why’s he here?” she asked, nodding beside her.
“He took ahold of me when I faded from his workplace,” Alasdair said, but Isadora had a feeling there was a lot more to it than that.
“And you let him?” she asked, incredulity in her tone.
Alasdair’s dark expression told her that he certainly had not, and then Thanos’s laugh echoed around the room. They both looked at him, and the smile on his mouth was full of devilry.
“No, I did not let him,” Alasdair said. “He seemed to know I was going to do it before I did it.”
“And he just grabbed on to you?” Thanos laughed again.
Alasdair growled. “What the fuck is so amusing about this to you?”
Thanos finished the drink in his hand and gave him a pearly white grin fit for a toothpaste commercial. “I just saw where you both ended up in your mind, cousin. Gotta say—brave for a human, isn’t he? How did Vasilios react to his unexpected guest?”
Alasdair glared so hard at their cousin that Isadora thought she was going to have to get between the two males.
“He was fine.”
Thanos chewed on a piece of ice and then wagged his eyebrows. “Yes, I see. He looks very fine kneeling behind you.”
“Get out of my fucking head, Thanos,” Alasdair warned.
“Or else what? Your threat on my life is not the first tonight. So please take a number. There is a line.”
Isadora got to her feet. Thanos could be frustrating at times, so she stood in front of Alasdair and looked him over. When it appeared he was in perfectly good health, she pouted.
“I assume by that expression and your arm that you received the same dress down I did?” Alasdair said.
“Apparently not exactly the same. You are in one piece.”
Thanos scoffed. “As far as we can see. Any bite marks under those clothes we should know about, Alasdair?”
“Ignore him,” Isadora advised when Alasdair’s jaw bunched. “I was told by Diomêdês that I wasn’t to heal myself until you arrived.”
Alasdair winced, and then he did something he very rarely did—he rolled his sleeve up and offered her his vein. “Feed.”
“But—”
He took a step towards her and clasped her left shoulder in his strong hand. Then he raised his arm until it hovered in front of her lips and said softly, “Let us say I am returning the favor.”
She shifted her eyes to his, and her fangs descended. Feeding from Alasdair was as much a privilege as it was pleasure. Because, while each of them was the first sired of an Ancient, Alasdair was sired to Vasilios, the most powerful of them all. It was Vasilios’s blood that made Alasdair’s all the more sweet.
Her top lip pulled taut across her teeth, and then she took his arm with her left hand. Lowering her head, she licked the spot where she could see his vein, and then she slowly sank her teeth into his flesh. When the intoxicating blend of his blood entered her mouth, she closed her eyes, and as it flowed through her veins to her wounded shoulder, she caught glimpses of Alasdair’s mind.
The human, standing with him in a room full of photographs. Then again appearing at his feet in Vasilios’s room. And then the human…watching the two of them as they fucked.
Alasdair’s mind was a mass of confusion, tangled between his reality and his obsession. When Isadora withdrew her teeth from his wrist, she licked the wound so it would heal and whispered, “It’s time to end this.”
Alasdair pulled his arm free of her but said nothing. She knew he understood, just as she knew he would rebel against any voice of reason. Once Alasdair’s mind was set, it took something monumental to dissuade him.
“So, there’s something I don’t quite understand,” Thanos spoke up, reminding her he was still in the room with them. “If you were told what we were, dear cousin, why are you still toting the human around? There are much more important things to focus on now besides your cock.”
“I agree,” Alasdair said as he rolled his shirtsleeve down and walked over to where Thanos had sat back in the chair. “Which is exactly why he is still here. I think he has something to do with it.”
Isadora’s mouth fell open, and then, without warning, she laughed, much like Thanos had earlier. But while his had been mocking and full of sarcasm, hers sounded oddly crazed even to her own ears.
“You think he has something to do with it? Look at him, Alasdair. We could kill him right now and he’d be none the wiser. How could someone as small as he, be involved in the destruction of something as large as us?”
“Think about it,” Alasdair suggested. “That night I tried to feed from him, his blood dropped me to the floor like poison. It paralyzed me to the point that, if he had known how, he could have ended me. He can also remember what happens during a full compulsion.”
As that little tidbit was revealed, Isadora thought Thanos’s eyes would pop out of his head.
“What? And you still have him around? Alive? What the fuck is the matter with you?”
“That’s the whole point, Thanos. I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m drawn to him the way I am—or why he can do what he does. But now, something else has started.” Alasdair paused as if daring either of them to interrupt. When neither of them did, he continued. “Something happens whenever we kiss.”
Thanos’s lips twitched. “Like what? Did the Earth move?”
“You’re such a fucking comedian, Thanos. Aren’t you paying attention? He is a threat. A threat I’ve never come across, and he’s one I haven’t been able to stay away from.”
The two of them looked at Alasdair, their mouths parted in shock. Then Thanos stepped towards their cousin and said, “I assume you have a plan? You always do. A way to test your theory?”
Alasdair grimaced as though he’d swallowed a razor blade, and as the plan entered his mind, they all saw what he thought would work.
Thanos laughed. “Oh, Alasdair, I thought you’d never ask.”
VOICES.
ONE, TWO…no, three voices.
That’s what Leo heard when he cracked his eyes open. A shooting pain splintered inside his skull as he tried to move his arms—he wanted to rub at his temple. But he couldn’t move them. His wrists stung, and as he tugged on one of them, the rough abrasion of rope scratched his skin.
Disoriented, he shifted, trying to sit up so he could get a better look at his surroundings, but from the awkward position he was in—Lying flat on my damn stomach—it was difficult to push himself up.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath. There was a stabbing sensation in his temple coming from a transport that had to have happened—recently.
The last thing he remembered was… Alasdair, the other vampire, and then…oh fuck.
Then he’d woken up in the middle of a flashback. Under that Vasilios guy, who’d been about to bite him. He remembered the way his body had reacted as the powerful male had loomed over him.
As Alasdair, Leo had wanted Vasilios with every fiber of his being. His cock had been harder than it had ever been, his flesh hot to the touch, and when the vampire had told him it was time, Leo had felt the pride and desire swirl through Alasdair’s blood.
He’d wanted to be owned by that male. More than he’d wanted to live.
Shaking his head, hoping to free his mind of memories that weren’t his, Leo rolled to his side and used his shoulder to shove himself up. The voices in the room increased in volume.
“I’m not sure that would be the smartest thing to do in this case, Thanos, are you?”
The question ended abruptly, and it seemed to echo around… My office, Leo realized, as he finally got himself upright and seated. He was back in his office, on the couch.
“Your human,” a low voice noted, “is awake.”
Leo’s eyes skidded to a stop on the three figures across the room. They had their backs to him, and when they turned, he realized he recognized them all.
Alasdair was standing between the male and female from the Walk. The same male who’d wanted… Yeah… best not to think about that while they’re within mind-invading distance.
“Huh,” the male vampire pondered, his eyes roving over Leo. “His thoughts are rather amusing, aren’t they? No wonder you kept him around, Alasdair. But he doesn’t seem to fear us much, does he?”
Leo’s eyes darted to Alasdair for… What? Reassurance? Why did he think he would protect him? If the stony expression on his face was any indication, he could quickly dispel any hope of that happening. Alasdair’s frown made him look homicidal, and just like that, the other male in the room got the reaction he wanted. Suddenly, Leo feared them very much.
Alasdair prowled over to him, his eyes never wavering from his face, and when they were toe-to-toe, he looked down at him and stated in a tone so bone-chilling that Leo’s heart almost gave out, “Stand up.”
The command was issued verbally, and Leo could still feel the choice was his. He wondered at that for a brief second, but then he glanced at the other two vampires in the room and knew why he wasn’t being compelled to act. He had nowhere to go. He was lik
e an animal of prey surrounded by a pack of hungry lions. If he made one wrong move, they would pounce, attack, and kill.
Ever so slowly, Leo scooted to the edge of the couch and then stood until he was level with Alasdair. He raised his head, and when their eyes connected, he sucked in a swift breath. He’d only ever seen this look in Alasdair’s eyes once—when he’d thrown him across the room that first night they’d talked.
The intensity in his eyes had the hairs on Leo’s arms standing tall. He then dropped his gaze to the lips that had kissed his twice now and watched them pull into a tight line as if Alasdair had read his thought and was displeased with it.
“I’m going to ask you a question, human.”
Ahh, so we’re no longer on a first-name basis. Something had really pissed Alasdair off. Those furious eyes turned to slits, but he merely continued with his thought as though he hadn’t heard Leo’s at all.
“You are going to answer me. If you answer wrong, I will kill you this time.”
Leo’s mouth fell open, and an unintelligible sound came from him as he looked over Alasdair’s shoulder to the two flanking his office door.
“Do you understand?”
The curt question brought his eyes back to Alasdair’s, and Leo shook his head. “No,” he managed. “I don’t understand.”
He thought he caught emotion flicker across those livid eyes, but he must’ve imagined it, because Alasdair reached out then and grasped the material of his shirt, yanking him forward. His tied hands were trapped between their bodies, and then Alasdair leaned in and whispered, “I warned you not to lie to me.”
Leo bit down on his lip hard, trying to stop his protest, and sought out the eyes of the female across the room. He wasn’t sure why he looked at her, but he thought maybe she would show some kind of compassion. Maybe she would come to his rescue.
But why should she? Because she’s a woman?
She might have been female, but the cold way she was observing what was going on indicated she was as unforgiving as the vampire currently holding him.
