Hunger.
And not just of the liquid variety, he angrily realized, his body hardening with a nearly forgotten ache of desire.
Shoving away the unpleasant realization, Gaius grimly turned his attention to the secluded house that was located on the edge of the Louisiana swamp.
Built on brick stilts, it was a large structure painted white with black shutters and a screened-in wraparound porch. The front yard was filled with large trees draped in Spanish moss that effectively hid the place from the narrow path that led to the small town.
All in all it was the perfect place for a vampire to remain hidden.
Which was no doubt why the Dark Lord had sent him here to wait for his next orders.
Ignoring the humid heat and swarms of bugs that filled the air, Gaius made his way through the front gate and up the wide staircase. He stepped through the door of the porch, relieved to catch sight of the overhead fan providing a much needed breeze.
Although he’d been on the other side of the Veil, he was well aware of the changes in this world, and after centuries of choosing a spartan existence to concentrate on his studies, he was anxious to enjoy a lair equipped with all the modern technology. Including electricity and a hot shower.
And privacy.
Narrowing his gaze, he belatedly realized the scent of human was coming from inside the house. And that it was drawing closer.
His time away had made him sloppy, he chastised himself, reaching beneath his robe to withdraw the pugio—a small Roman dagger—he’d hidden among the satin folds. Then, moving with a silent speed, he shoved open the door and stepped into the shadows of the living room.
“Who is there?” he growled, his gaze skimming over the padded bamboo chairs and couch that were scattered over the wooden floorboards.
There was a faint rustle, then the lights tucked in the high, open-beamed ceiling were flipped on and a young female stepped into the room.
“Me.”
Gaius tucked away his dagger. If he decided to kill the human it would be by draining all that sweet, tempting blood.
“Be more precise,” he commanded, his speech pattern becoming rigidly formal as his anger overcame his months of secret training to mingle among the natives.
“Sally Grace.”
His gaze narrowed as he studied the intruder. She might have been cute in a childish manner, with her dark hair pulled into two braids on each side of her pale, pretty face. But her brown eyes were heavily lined with makeup and her full lips painted a shocking shade of black and pierced with a gold hoop. There was a matching hoop in one brow and a dozen more along the shell of her ear.
Worse was her strange costume.
The scarlet corset was all that covered her tiny bosom and a tiny leather skirt was plastered to her hips. She had on leggings and high-heeled boots, but they did little more than emphasize her slender curves. She clearly had no males in her life to forbid such a shocking display of her body.
“Why are you in my home?”
She propped her shoulder against the doorjamb, looking far too comfortable. “Our master sent me to make sure you had everything you need for your return.”
So, she was sent by the Dark Lord.
Not that it made her presence any more welcome.
“You are a housekeeper?”
“Housekeeper?” The female straightened, her hands slapping on her h*ps in outrage. “Do I look like a freaking housekeeper?”
His jaw tightened at her shrill tone. “Do not test me, female.”
She gave a toss of her head. “I happen to be a very powerful witch. One who is favored above all of the Dark Lord’s disciples . ..”
“A witch.” His power blasted through the air, sending the female slamming into the wall of the attached dining room. He stalked forward, his fangs exposed as he prepared to put an end to the bitch. It had been a witch who had held him powerless as his beloved mate was burned at the stake. “I detest witches.”
Reaching the female, he wrapped his fingers around her throat and began to squeeze. He sure as hell wasn’t going to soil his tongue with her tainted blood.