The sleek, black limo glided through the sturdy gates of the new Seattle compound. They still called it that, although, in truth, it was no longer in Seattle. That city, once a haven for those seeking to get away from the crowds and congestion of places like L.A. and San Francisco, had become the very thing they’d tried to escape.
For Raphael’s vampires, that meant their old compound, which had once been located on ten acres of isolated countryside, had found itself in the middle of a crowded suburb. It had taken some time, but his people had finally located a suitable new site in the hills some distance from Seattle. They’d bought up adjoining parcels this time, until they had a hundred acres as a hedge against future expansion. The new compound had taken nearly as long to build as it had to find the site. There were no humans Raphael would trust with such a commission, and those few vampires who were both trustworthy and sufficiently skilled were in great demand. Of course, they were also his own children, which gave him a certain priority in requesting their services, but above everything else, Raphael was a businessman. He wasn’t about to demand that any of his vampires sacrifice their businesses just to save him a bit of time. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.
The limo took the final curve of the driveway and the main building came into view from behind the trees. Wei Chen, head of the Seattle nest, emerged onto the steps along with several others, standing under the gray, concrete overhang, waiting to greet him.
Cyn sat next to him in the limo, her long leg warm against his, their fingers laced together. She’d been extra vigilant since his nightmare, almost obsessive about his security. She was armed, as always—a .9 mm Glock in a shoulder rig beneath her jacket—but she was also wearing a second identical weapon tucked against her lower back, into the waistband of her slacks. She hadn’t even tried to hide it from him and had made clear her preference that he remain in the car until she’d checked out who and what waited for them. His woman, his very human mate, thought it appropriate to put herself in danger for his protection. As if the phalanx of vampire guards deployed around them weren’t enough, as if he wasn’t visiting one of his own nests where every vampire present was pledged to him personally . . . or as if he wasn’t fully capable of protecting himself and her, as well.
A wisp of pain tugged at his awareness and he stared out the rain-darkened window at the new compound’s stark gray concrete and redwood construction, at the solemn faces of his assembled vampires.
“What’s wrong?” Cyn asked abruptly.
He turned his head to meet her gaze, her green eyes boring into his with a sure knowledge of his moods.
“I’m not certain,” he admitted. “Something . . .” His voice trailed away as he tried to capture whatever it was that had caught his attention. But there was so much emotion among the vampires in that building—fear and grief, as well as pain at the terrible loss they’d suffered. Surely that was it, that two of their number had been wiped from the earth as if they’d never existed, their flames extinguished in seconds as their shocked cries bit into his soul. But that wasn’t it. Or that wasn’t everything. His gaze sharpened.
“Stop,” he commanded. His driver hit the brakes, bringing the limo to a full stop before his conscious mind was aware of what he was doing. Raphael was only vaguely cognizant of the alarm spreading through the ranks of his security, of Cyn’s voice calling his name as he opened the car door and stepped out into the wet night.
Wei Chen and the others hurried toward him, their faces creased with concern.
“My lord.” Raphael’s lieutenant, Duncan, appeared at his side, while his Security Chief, Juro, calmly deployed various personnel to accommodate this new development. There was very little that could rattle Juro; it was why Raphael had chosen him.
“Sire.” Wei Chen was out of breath from the dash through the rain, testimony to his lack of any kind of routine physical activity.
Raphael lifted his head, his gaze searching the elegant face of the building, his heart aching at the pain he felt there. “Jeremy,” he realized suddenly. He turned an inquiring gaze upon Wei Chen, his black eyes beginning to gleam silver with anger. “What’s happened, Wei Chen? Where’s Jeremy?”
The nest leader met Raphael’s regard without flinching. “His house was attacked earlier, my lord. His mate, Mariane—”
Raphael had stopped listening. He was already moving, heading for the main entrance, following a trail of pain that was as clear as if it were painted on the ground before him.
Wei Chen hurried to keep up with him. “Jeremy is in the infirmary with her, Sire. He’s sharing his blood—”
“It will not be enough,” Raphael said, knowing it was true. He pushed through the heavy glass doors, heedless of everything but the need of his child pulling him down the hall. One turn and another, and he was striding into what passed for an infirmary on the vampire compound.
It was a smallish room. Vampires rarely required more than a donor’s blood and a few hours rest, and only the youngest vampires or the most serious injuries demanded even that. But in the far corner, beneath the dim glow of a wall lamp, a young woman lay in a bed that seemed too big for her delicate frame. Her face was nearly as pale as the sheets she lay upon, the white bindings upon her legs and arms still soaked with her life’s blood.
“Jeremy.”
The vampire looked up at the sound of his Sire’s voice, his face a mask of grief, streaked with the dried blood of his tears. “My lord,” he said brokenly, falling to his knees. “It’s not enough. My blood . . . It’s not enough.” His voice cracked as he began to sob, great wracking sounds that tore at Raphael’s soul.
He went to the broken vampire, holding him as he would a child, his child, reborn as Vampire less than thirty years ago. Jeremy buried his face against his Sire’s hip and Raphael stroked his head in comfort, examining the woman, Mariane, as he did so. He noted the shallow rise and fall of her chest, the sluggish beat of her heart, which was barely managing to push the blood through her body. The flesh of her fingers was already pale and cold, as her body shut down her extremities in favor of saving what vital organs it could.
“It is not too late, Jeremy,” Raphael said for his vampire’s ears only. “Let me help her.”
Jeremy’s head came up, hope warring with possessiveness for a brief moment before he nodded. “I would beg you, my lord, if it would help her.”
Raphael shook his head chidingly. “You are my own, blood of my blood. And Mariane is yours.”
He gently disengaged from Jeremy and shrugged out of his suit jacket, letting the expensive garment fall heedlessly. He was aware of Cyn standing close behind him, aware of her hands catching the jacket as it fell, handing it off to someone else as he walked around to the opposite side of the bed. She followed, staying close by his side, and his heart wrenched at the thought of her lying in this sterile bed instead of poor Mariane.
Without pausing, he rolled up his sleeve and used his fangs to slice through the skin of his wrist and open a vein. Sitting on the bed and bending over the young woman, he placed his wrist over her mouth, letting the first few drops fall through her open lips. Jeremy hovered across from him, holding his mate’s hand, whispering in her ear of his love for her, encouraging her to drink, to live for him.
Mariane’s throat moved spasmodically, her body forcing her to swallow before the blood choked her. Something stirred behind her closed eyelids and she swallowed again, and then again, before her thin, pale hands came up to hold Raphael’s life-giving wrist to her mouth. She began to suck greedily at the bounty that was his blood—the blood of a vampire lord, more powerful than anything produced in centuries of human medical research.
She was suckling like a hungry child, and Jeremy’s avid gaze was fixed on the physical connection between his Sire and his mate. His stress over that contact was growing with every second. Vampires were possessive creatures, even one so new as Jeremy. Raphael pulled his wrist away carefully, letting Jeremy take the woman’s hands when she would have grabbed for more. She mewed unhappily at the loss, and Jeremy covered her lips with a kiss, licking the blood from her mouth and feeding it back to her as their tongues twined.
Duncan handed Raphael a warm, wet towel to clean the blood from his arm. He remained seated on the bed, absently wiping the towel over his wrist as he watched Jeremy kiss Mariane’s hungry mouth. He handed the towel back to Duncan and held out his hand to Cyn. She came to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, dropping her cheek briefly to brush against his head.
“Jeremy.”