"Who the f**k are you?” the vampire snarled.
Raj didn't say a word. Using a small thread of power, he drove the vampire to his knees and then bent him backwards until the sound of vertebrae popping was so loud it could be heard over the pounding music coming from the house. The vampire could do little more than grunt in pain, but his eyes were wide with fear, gleaming golden yellow as they begged silently for mercy.
"I believe I asked you a question,” Raj said calmly. He released the vamp without warning, causing him to snap forward with such force that he did a full face plant in the grass before slowly, painfully, raising himself just enough to answer Raj's query.
"Mick is in charge, my lord,” the vampire rasped. “He'll be in the first room on your right."
"Thank you,” Raj said cheerfully and walked away. Behind him he could hear the vampire's companion making concerned noises until she was driven away by a vicious snarl of profanity. Raj smiled. His evening was looking up already.
He crossed to the front porch without incident. Every vampire outside the house had witnessed his display of power and backed off quickly, jerking their humans with them. As he suspected, there was no bouncer at the door—which meant there was not even a record of consent, much less signed waivers. This house was a disaster waiting to happen—and tonight that disaster's name was Raj.
Once inside, he found Mick easily enough. The fool was lying in the middle of a big four-poster bed, surrounded by women. He was a big man, tall and thick, with a headful of unruly red hair and a broad chest that was as na**d as the women who were draped all over him. He had power, too. Enough to control this house and its vampires. But not enough to face down a true master.
Fortunately for Raj, he was too arrogant to realize it.
Raj strolled into the room casually, looking like a prospective home buyer checking out the furnishings. Mick's gaze followed him warily, but he didn't move from the bed.
"There are vampires sinking fang in the front yard,” Raj commented, running his hand along the silver frame of a particularly fine antique mirror.
"Shocking,” Mick said dryly. His women tittered.
Raj glanced at him. “And there appears to be no one checking the IDs of your lovely guests,” he continued, giving a little nod of inclusion to the half-naked women who preened under his gaze.
Mick growled out a command, drawing the attention of his adoring fans back to him alone. “What's it to you?” he demanded. “And for that matter, who the f**k are you?"
"I didn't introduce myself? How rude. Raymond Gregor,” he said, continuing his perusal of the mostly gaudy furnishings. He paused and shifted his gaze to the big vampire. “Raj to my friends, but I'm afraid that doesn't include you, Mick."
The redheaded vampire snorted in disdain and began shoving away his unhappy playmates to climb from the bed. Raj was grateful to see the vampire was wearing pants which he zipped with a quick jerk before turning to face him.
"So you're Raj. I've heard about you."
"Have you? I, on the other hand, have never heard of you."
Mick squinted angrily and drew himself up to his full height, thrusting out his chest in challenge, much the same way the human Scavetti had the night before.
"Mick,” Raj said gently. “You might want to clear the humans from the room first."
The other vampire looked puzzled for a moment and then laughed. “Frankie,” he said to a short, scared looking vampire standing near the door. “The house is closed, get everybody out. Five minutes ago,” he added with a snap, when Frankie just stood there staring at him.
Raj waited patiently while the house was closed down and emptied of human witnesses. There was a lot of complaining from the humans, but none from the vampires. They moved through the house in taut silence, hustling their visitors out the door, hurrying them to their cars and shoving them inside. Raj only hoped there wasn't a rash of accidents on the way home. That wouldn't be good for business.
"So, Raj,” Mick said finally. “Where do you wanna do this?"
Raj smiled and slowly released a measure of his true power. It was an exquisite rush, as delicious as blood from the most succulent woman he'd ever taken, as sweet as that first slow glide of blood down his throat after a long drought. He skewered Mick with derisive look. “We can do it right here. It won't take long,” he said with an arrogance born of certain knowledge.
Mick's eyes widened, and Raj saw the first flash of fear, as he recognized the true depths of Raj's power. But he didn't back down. He had to know he couldn't win this battle, but he stood his ground, and Raj decided in that moment not to kill good ol’ Mick. He would need vampires with this kind of courage when he took over Krystof's territory. And he was definitely going to take over the territory.
Mick attacked first, understanding that it was his only, slim, chance. He aimed a spear of concentrated power at Raj's chest and attacked physically in the same moment, throwing himself across the room. His considerable bulk hit like a pile driver, and Raj grunted with the impact, but repelled it easily, using power alone to toss the other vampire into an elegant armoire that rose almost to the ceiling. Or it had before Mick crashed into it and reduced it to a pile of shattered wood. A shame, really, Raj thought idly.
Mick stood with a roar and would have attacked again, but Raj—wanting, needing, a more physical violence—crossed the room in two hard strides and caught the big vampire with a roundhouse punch, breaking his jaw and spinning him away to crash into the bed, toppling the canopy and tangling him in a dusty shroud of blue velvet. Mick shook his head—a grotesque sight with his jaw hanging loose—and stood once again, fists bunched at his sides. Muscles strained and veins bulged as he concentrated his remaining strength, throwing everything he had into a last desperate burst of power, his mouth open in a furious howl, as if the sheer volume of his voice could add weight to the attack.
Raj raised a hand and deflected every ounce of that power and more back on its owner, driving Mick to the floor and pressing down on him until his joints groaned and he screamed in agony beneath the crushing weight.
"Yield,” Raj demanded softly. “Yield and serve me willingly, or you die right here, right now."
Mick twisted beneath Raj's greater strength, his face contorted with rage and pain as he fought to the last shred of his power. He pounded the floor with one fist, driving it through the old wooden planks and shattering the bones in his hand before finally forcing his gaze up to meet Raj's implacable blue stare. He ground one word from his ruined mouth. “Master,” he said.
Raj nodded and released him, and then immediately drew off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve, slicing his own wrist with a slash of his fangs. “Do you come to me of your own free will and desire, Mick?” he asked formally.