he left their direct sight, he moved swiftly, scaling a building and then stripping out of the loose shirt and slacks he’d worn to the club. The shift rippled over his skin, but instead of fur, he sprouted feathers and then he snapped out his wings as he alighted on a shadowy perch. The white plumage would definitely be noticeable if he moved into the light, but he was content to observe.
The two vampires tailing him raced through the alley. It was only after they hit the boulevard that they slowed. They hesitated, searching the crowds for any sign of him, but he had well and truly eluded them. Only the older vampires even remembered the hybrids, most still considered them myths and legends.
Fine by Rogue. It made them so much easier to pick off. If they had been able to maintain pursuit, he could and would put them down. They would not find Fiona on his watch. He maintained his vigil, then soared between the buildings, and the hunters now became the hunted.
They searched for nearly two hours before they finally gave up on their quest and retraced their steps to the club. Rogue found another shadowy perch as they moved to a car idling on the street rather than the club itself. The window rolled down, allowing them to give their report. From his angle, he couldn’t see who was inside, but he had his suspicions.
“We lost him,” one of the vampires said. “He was just strolling, then…”
“I have never seen anyone move that fast,” the other said, as though apologizing. “We hunted, but we couldn’t find his trail.”
“Idiots,” the voice inside was distinctly masculine. “Did you look up?”
“Y-Yes,” the second one stuttered. “We took to the rooftops.”
After an hour. Rogue almost snorted. It was pathetic. The fact that the first one’s head went flying off his shoulders confirmed the one inside the car agreed with him. The second vampire startled and tried to back off…but not fast enough. The hand that locked on his throat kept him in place.
When the door moved, Rogue waited a beat.
Cyril stepped out of the vehicle, only switching which hand he held the vampire in as a concession to stepping free of the door. He moved with purpose, the second vampire strained against his strength, his feet paddling in the air.
“Do you understand that when you hunt the targets I give you, that you cannot treat them like some idiot made in the last seven centuries?”
The vampire wheezed out an answer. It was barely audible because Cyril wasn’t allowing him air. Rogue studied the whole interaction with a kind of dispassionate amusement. Unlike Brandt, who was built big and broad, Cyril was far more lean. If Brandt were a battering ram, then Cyril was a rapier—the blade in the dark.
He flung the vampire away from him and then stilled on the darkened street. The other clambered to his feet, still wheezing and looking genuinely terrified. Unlike him, Rogue didn’t give into the urge to move, particularly when Cyril turned his gaze upward like he knew he was being watched.
Of all of the seven beyond Alfred, Cyril was the one Rogue knew the best.
He’d been the one who’d slaughtered half of Rogue’s people.
Someday—and that day would come soon—Rogue would take his vengeance, Alfred’s treaties with them be damned.
“Find the succubus,” Cyril said finally without lowering his gaze. “Find her and bring her to me.” Was he testing whether a threat to Fiona would make Rogue or any of them break cover, as if they were green warriors untested by true battle? “Alive, Roger.”
The idiot’s name was Roger. Rogue wished he could roll his eyes in this form. His little sváss would be so amused.
“Bring her to me intact and alive.”
“Yes, Lord Cyril,” Roger muttered, going to one knee. “I will gather our men. We will find her. The coven in Dallas had a lead on her, but they have all failed to answer any further inquiries.”
Cyril snorted. “Go away.”
Roger didn’t have to be told twice. The vampire rushed away without a second glance at his fallen comrade, leaving Cyril alone, save for his driver who had not left the car.
“If you’re there,” Cyril said slowly, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and tapping one out. He paused to light it, and then exhaled a stream of smoke. “Then tell Alfred I expect him at the castle before the next full moon. He would be advised to bring the succubus with him.”
Politics.
They were so