"Sire,” Raj said with a bend of his neck, nothing more. He lifted his head and met Krystof's gaze directly, daring him to force the issue.
The vampire lord's thin mouth tightened briefly before curving into an insincere smile. “It's good to see you again, Rajmund.” His voice was strong and even, which meant he'd probably just fed. Over the last few years, it had become apparent that Krystof was feeding more and more often. It was another sign of his growing weakness, that he was reverting to a schedule closer to that of a newborn than a vamp of his considerable age and power. When he was hungry, his speech would become hesitant and uncertain like an aging human's, although he never looked old. It wasn't his body that was aging. It was his mind.
"Do come in,” he said now, sweeping his hand across his body in a graceful gesture of invitation. He started back into his office, but stopped, frowning as he gave Jozef a pointed look. “Clear this room, Jozef. Rajmund and I will require privacy."
The security chief rose from his kneeling position and stared moodily at their master's departing back. A long minute later, he turned his head and gave Raj an unreadable look before giving the vampire closest to them a quick push. “Everyone upstairs,” he barked.
Raj shrugged, gave the fuming Morales a wink and strolled through the doorway to Krystof's inner sanctum.
Krystof was alone but for a young woman lolling on an elaborate, velvet settee against one wall. She was half-naked, her blouse hanging open on small, pale br**sts, her skirt scrunched up nearly to her waist and her underwear gone, if there had ever been any. Fresh blood, red and wet, seeped lazily from the big vein on her neck and she was humming softly, a dreamy expression on her face as she twirled a lock of purple-streaked hair with one finger.
"Lovely, isn't she?"
Raj swung his attention immediately over to the vampire lord, irritated that he'd permitted himself to be distracted by the human female. Distraction could be deadly in Krystof's presence, no matter that the old man was half senile. “Young,” he commented. But then Krystof had always liked them young.
Krystof bared his teeth in a grin that showed far more than a hint of fang. “Over eighteen and plucked from one of the blood houses, so you know she's legal.” He turned his back and walked silently across the deep pile carpeting to sit behind a fussy antique writing table with inlays so beautiful that even Raj could appreciate them. Velvet curtains in a full, rich red hung behind the vampire lord's desk—purely for effect since there no windows in any of the basement rooms. The remaining walls were bordered by a deep mahogany wainscoting against subdued satin wall paper.
Krystof seated himself on a delicate chair and folded his soft-looking hands on the leather-trimmed blotter. His long, dark hair was bound with a black, velvet ribbon, framing an unlined face and brown eyes which were remarkably clear, showing no signs of stress as he gazed up at Raj expectantly. Raj was reminded of an old, Russian saying about a person whose face was untouched by the wind. It referred to someone unmarked by the hardships of life, and it wasn't a compliment. Here was a vampire lord who had lived for centuries, who had enslaved hundreds, if not thousands, of both humans and vampires, who killed brutally for no reason but his own convenience. And yet, there he sat, the picture of a pampered young aristocrat whose hands had never been soiled by anything so crude as blood.
Raj stared at this creature who had so changed his own life and was nearly overcome by the urge to leap across the desk and choke the unnatural life from him.
"Why am I here?” he growled.
Across the desk, Krystof's lips tightened and he cocked his head in rebuke. “Do not presume too far, Rajmund. I am still master here.” His eyes went abruptly flat, and Raj realized they could do it right now, decide this thing between them once and for all. But not with all of his own supporters hundreds of miles away in Manhattan, while Krystof sat beneath a house full of minions whose very lives depended on his continued existence. They would defend him to the death out of a raw instinct to survive, no matter their feelings about him personally.
Raj lowered his eyes and bent his head briefly. “My apologies, my lord."
Krystof smiled graciously, the benevolent lord with his servant. Raj ground his teeth so hard he thought the old vampire could surely hear it.
"So,” Krystof began in the bored, dulcet tones of a born aristocrat. “Tell me what Raphael wanted."
Raj looked up and shrugged carelessly. “A holiday in Manhattan for his mate."
Krystof frowned. “Why New York?"
"Shopping, I suppose. That's what she and her friend did all day. “
"Is there no shopping in Los Angeles?"
"The friend works in New York, here in Buffalo, as a matter of fact. She teaches at the University. As for Raphael's mate . . .” Raj hooked an uncomfortable-looking chair over with one foot and slouched down onto it. “She's a rich American and clearly used to having her own way. Raphael indulges her."
"Does he?"
Krystof's note of interest sharpened Raj's attention, although he was careful not to show it. “To a point,” he clarified. “She's quite beautiful."
The old vampire lord laughed. “So even Raphael has a weakness. I never thought I'd see the day."
Raj didn't say anything. If Krystof wanted to believe Raphael's mate, Cynthia, made him weaker somehow, that was his choice. Raj had seen enough this weekend to know that while the Western Vampire Lord clearly loved the human woman, he hadn't let down his guard at all. If anything, he might be more secure now than ever. Having finally met her, Raj was inclined to believe many of the rumors he'd heard about Cyn's determination and her willingness to kill if necessary. And he had no doubt she'd defend Raphael to her death, if that's what it took. As for Raphael, only a fool would think to bring harm to Cynthia and survive.
"Well, this is all very interesting, but that's not the main reason I wanted you here, Rajmund. We have something of a situation involving the humans and you know I've never been comfortable dealing with them. One doesn't talk to the livestock, after all.” He chuckled at his own jest. “Still, this is America and one must adapt."
Raj ignored him. Krystof had been in this country for nearly three hundred years and he still spoke as though he'd only arrived a month ago.
"I'm afraid the human police are concerned, Rajmund."
That got Raj's attention. “The police? About what?"
"Apparently some women have disappeared. As if that's a rare occurrence in a human city. They butcher each other so casually, we're far less of a threat to them than they are to themselves. Unfortunately, an influential man has become involved—his daughter is among those missing, and he's convinced the police we've something to do with it. Ridiculous, of course. The girl is no doubt f**king her minimal brains out with someone unsuitable and will come home pregnant and diseased when she realizes her mistake. But in the meantime, we are all forced to play this silly game."