three steps, Malcolm allowed the wolves to sweep into the room and collect his cousin. The younger vampire met his gaze and the disgust in Malcolm’s soul turned to pity, but he allowed it no quarter. Sympathy wouldn’t help him.
Not anymore.
“Remember what I said,” he reminded Frederick.
“Yes, sir.”
How the hell was he going to explain this to Ruth?
It was late afternoon by the time Malcolm left the physician and a blissfully unconscious Frederick to the brutal process of blood cleansing. They would drain all the blood from his body, clean it and return it to the body along with a supplement of extra pints every hour he spent on the machine. It would cleanse the opiates from his tissues, but he would be hurting when he woke as the blood soaked back into his starved body at a far slower rate than it could be drained.
Maybe the pain would remind him to avoid hasty, ill-thought decisions in the future. In his suite, Malcolm stripped off his clothes and avoided the messages from his aunt. When Frederick pulled through the treatment, he would notify her and not a moment before. Despite being the head of the family and her favorite nephew, she was a mother. She wouldn’t stop until she was at Frederick’s side and that could create even more problems.
One tepid shower and a change of clothes later, he warmed a blood bag. He couldn’t afford to walk into the Midnight Mystery Lounge any hungrier for Jeannie than he already was or he’d risk assault charges. Balancing the glass in one hand, he picked up the phone to dial Sebastian.
Like Malcolm, Sebastian was several centuries old and he understood the delicate balance of knowledge and tactics in the waging of war. When his right-hand man answered, he skipped the pleasantries. “Is this a secure line?”
“The last time I checked.” The indolent response may have sounded lazy to someone who didn’t know him, but Sebastian checked every time.
“Any leads on the Overseers?”
“Just a lot of rumor and innuendo. They’ve buried their identities in enigmas wrapped in mystery and retold only as legend. Which irritated the piss out of me, by the way. There was one Overseer in Monte Carlo that was known to that city’s prince, but apparently within a week of discovering his identity, the Overseer passed away quite suddenly.”
“Fantastic. At least they kill themselves and not the people who find out.” He drank down the blood in one long swallow. Even reheated, it did little to assuage the hunger gnawing beneath his skin.
“What about negotiation techniques?”
“They’re gamblers. If pushed, they rarely can resist a wager. But it has to be high stakes and they play for keeps.”
Again, no surprise. They owned the most prestigious gambling resorts in the world. They catered to the most exclusive of clienteles, and they had the political clout, magical ability and strength to back up their decisions.
“Then it’s a game.”
“Absolutely. What do you want us to do?” Translation: does he contact our soldiers and turn this into a bloody nightmare?
They’d done it before, in centuries past, to defend the family and to retrieve what was theirs.
But not this time. The cost might truly outweigh the return.
“Nothing for now. Find those girls. They got Frederick hooked on opiates and they’re compelling humans to take drugs and feed them. That ends now. Find out where they are, get a hold of that city’s prince and put a price on their heads. I want them in Reynolds custody before the week is out.”
“You got it.”
Malcolm ended the call with the same lack of pleasantries that it began. A glance at his watch told him another two hours until sunset. Three until the shows began in the Midnight Mystery Lounge. He carried his drink into the study and focused on his options. He needed a plan before he went down to claim his dancer.
Because when Jeannie joined him tonight, Frederick would be the furthest thing from his
Not anymore.
“Remember what I said,” he reminded Frederick.
“Yes, sir.”
How the hell was he going to explain this to Ruth?
It was late afternoon by the time Malcolm left the physician and a blissfully unconscious Frederick to the brutal process of blood cleansing. They would drain all the blood from his body, clean it and return it to the body along with a supplement of extra pints every hour he spent on the machine. It would cleanse the opiates from his tissues, but he would be hurting when he woke as the blood soaked back into his starved body at a far slower rate than it could be drained.
Maybe the pain would remind him to avoid hasty, ill-thought decisions in the future. In his suite, Malcolm stripped off his clothes and avoided the messages from his aunt. When Frederick pulled through the treatment, he would notify her and not a moment before. Despite being the head of the family and her favorite nephew, she was a mother. She wouldn’t stop until she was at Frederick’s side and that could create even more problems.
One tepid shower and a change of clothes later, he warmed a blood bag. He couldn’t afford to walk into the Midnight Mystery Lounge any hungrier for Jeannie than he already was or he’d risk assault charges. Balancing the glass in one hand, he picked up the phone to dial Sebastian.
Like Malcolm, Sebastian was several centuries old and he understood the delicate balance of knowledge and tactics in the waging of war. When his right-hand man answered, he skipped the pleasantries. “Is this a secure line?”
“The last time I checked.” The indolent response may have sounded lazy to someone who didn’t know him, but Sebastian checked every time.
“Any leads on the Overseers?”
“Just a lot of rumor and innuendo. They’ve buried their identities in enigmas wrapped in mystery and retold only as legend. Which irritated the piss out of me, by the way. There was one Overseer in Monte Carlo that was known to that city’s prince, but apparently within a week of discovering his identity, the Overseer passed away quite suddenly.”
“Fantastic. At least they kill themselves and not the people who find out.” He drank down the blood in one long swallow. Even reheated, it did little to assuage the hunger gnawing beneath his skin.
“What about negotiation techniques?”
“They’re gamblers. If pushed, they rarely can resist a wager. But it has to be high stakes and they play for keeps.”
Again, no surprise. They owned the most prestigious gambling resorts in the world. They catered to the most exclusive of clienteles, and they had the political clout, magical ability and strength to back up their decisions.
“Then it’s a game.”
“Absolutely. What do you want us to do?” Translation: does he contact our soldiers and turn this into a bloody nightmare?
They’d done it before, in centuries past, to defend the family and to retrieve what was theirs.
But not this time. The cost might truly outweigh the return.
“Nothing for now. Find those girls. They got Frederick hooked on opiates and they’re compelling humans to take drugs and feed them. That ends now. Find out where they are, get a hold of that city’s prince and put a price on their heads. I want them in Reynolds custody before the week is out.”
“You got it.”
Malcolm ended the call with the same lack of pleasantries that it began. A glance at his watch told him another two hours until sunset. Three until the shows began in the Midnight Mystery Lounge. He carried his drink into the study and focused on his options. He needed a plan before he went down to claim his dancer.
Because when Jeannie joined him tonight, Frederick would be the furthest thing from his
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