The last thing Raj saw before a curtain of black fell over his eyes was Zosia's lovely face slack with death, her once bright, blue eyes pale and lifeless.
Rajmund opened his eyes to darkness. He could see men, no not men, monsters moving in the shadows, could heard their growls of pleasure as they sucked the juices from bits of meat he didn't want to think about. Was this death? Was this the hell the priests had warned him of, the corruption of his soul they predicted if he left the lands of his birth and traveled so far away?
"He's awake,” someone growled.
"Ah, at last.” Rajmund recognized that voice. The rich man. The one who carried evil with him like an elegant cloak.
"Bring him the girl."
The girl? Did he mean Zosia? Was she alive then?
A young girl was pushed out of the darkness—not Zosia. He didn't recognize this pathetic child. She stumbled and fell hard against him, crying pitifully. Her body stank of sex and sweat and she shook with fear. He reached out to comfort her as she turned toward him, her eyes full of a silent plea. He touched the bare skin of her arm . . . and an unreasoning hunger roared through him. He could hear the rush of her blood and the terrified pounding of her heart, could smell a sweet, fresh scent so close beneath her paper-thin skin. It was intoxicating. He leaned closer, wallowing in the scent, his tongue lapping out to feel it pulsing, like a small animal begging for release.
His felt his gums split, felt something hard and sharp tearing his lips and knew they were fangs as he pressed them against the soft flesh of her neck. One pointed tip punctured her skin to release a single drop of blood. He closed his eyes at the exhilarating flavor, his head thrown back as if it was a flood pouring down his throat instead of a meager drop.
His gaze fell to the small, red puncture wound. To the thick, ripe vein. He buried his face in her neck and for the first time, he fed.
Rajmund pushed the girl's body aside, his jaw cracking wide as he sought to release the tension of his feeding. He sat for a moment in silence, rolling his head from side to side, hearing the pop of vertebrae as he stared around the room. He froze when he took in the carnage, when he realized what he'd become, what he'd done. Horrified, he scrambled across the littered floor until he felt a wall at his back.
Someone laughed and he looked up to the find the rich man staring down at him, once again clothed in fine fabrics, his hands and face pristine and white.
"Zosia?” Rajmund croaked. “Maciek?"
The rich man gestured around the room with an elegant hand. “I'm afraid they're all dead. To a worthy cause, if it's any consolation to you.” His gaze bored into Rajmund. “But not you, Rajmund. You're very much alive."
"Why?” Rajmund asked, more the cry of a tormented soul than a man's question.
The rich man smiled. “Because I can. Come along, boy. You're one of us now."
Rajmund threw his head back and howled.
The ringing of his cell phone brought Raj back to the present. He pulled his phone from a pocket as he climbed out of the car, not bothering to check the ID.
"Yeah."
"Raj?” Em's voice was troubled.
"Yeah, Em. Anything wrong?” He punched in the security code on the private warehouse door, making certain it closed and locked behind him before he crossed the empty space and descended the stairs to his private apartment.
"No,” Em said cautiously. “Not on this end. We're all here in the warehouse, the guys are settling in downstairs. I expected you—"
"Something came up."
"Right, okay. Will we see you tonight?"
"Yeah.” The vault door swung shut behind him. He entered the code to engage the full security of his building and heard the vault's heavy locks slide home for the day.
"Let me think a minute, Em.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to put the next twenty-four hours into place. He'd have to see Sarah again. He still had to find out what she was hiding, the real reason she'd been so eager to be a part of the police investigation. And Krystof was probably waiting for a progress report, but he could f**king wait until Raj had time for him. His own people were far more important. “I'll come by right after sunset. It's a real mess here, Em. Worse than I thought."
"Then I'm glad we're here for you, boss."
"Yeah. See you tonight."
He hit disconnect and stared at the phone, thinking about Sarah Stratton. She was a complication he didn't need right now, and if the thought brought a twinge of unexpected pain, he ignored it. This wouldn't be the first time he'd been forced to leave behind a human he cared about.
He immediately dialed her number, relieved when it gave him the option of going straight to voice mail.
"Sarah. We need to talk. I'll be over around ten tonight.” He left it at that and hung up. She'd get the message when she woke this morning. And if she wasn't home when he got there, he'd track her down and get what he needed, one way or another.