control of their subspecies. They hadbeen exercising this right for so long, they knew no other way.
Would accept no other way.
Within the bloodletting room in the Order’s reality, a human body had been flashed and laid out on the pallet between two Order members. The pair hovered over the body, robes pooling around their feet, upper lips curled back to display their brick red fangs.
“Vile,” said one.
“Must we have that thing in here?” said the other disgustedly.
Removing the needle from her wrists and neck, Feeyan sat up slowly on her pallet. She had just been drained, vials of her blood lined up in a neat row beside her. “That
thing
,” she said pointedly, “may have the location of our missing
mutore
.”
One of the Order
paven
looked confused. “I thought we had been monitoring this human. If my memory serves, he was able only to grant us images of her voice, her face, her animal.”
Feeyan flashed from her pallet to the bedside of the dead senator. “Yes. But his killer may have more.”
“You think the killer knows the
mutore
?” the second Order member asked.
“The guards at the hospital were in agreement that the perpetrator was not human. What reason would a vampire have for killing the senator?” She pressed his head to one side, revealing his temple. “I think one kills out of passion. That passion could be political, yes, but it could also be out of revenge.” Feeyan inhaled deeply, lengthened her fangs. “I despise the cold blood of a dead human.”
The Order members chuckled as she struck into the male’s temple, but one—one who had only pretended to give his blood earlier that day and was now sitting in the very back of the room pretending to practice his meditation as he shook beneath his robes—did not.
Titus Evictus lowered his head and drank the newly pulled blood of the Order member, Feeyan. Too intent on what was happening with the human senator, no one noticed him, no one suspected. And why would they? They did not know that he was once a Breeding Male, a genetically altered Pureblood vampire who could breed on command and choose the sex of its offspring. They did not know that when rogue Order leader Cruen had disappeared, his dark, magic-filled blood along with him, Titus had begun to decline. The Order’s blood was strong and took the edge off his need, but just barely.
He snatched another vial, drank it down in one thick gulp. He needed to find Cruen, the creator of the Breeding Male program, or he was going to return to the maniacal Beast who thought only of rutting anything, anywhere. But what bargain could he strike with Cruen now? He had given him all he had. He was worthless, and he would not betray his sons, not anymore. Not ever again.
Down at the other end of the room, Feeyan pulled out of the senator’s mind with a disgusted growl. “Vile indeed. But productive.”
“Did you see the face of the killer?” one Order member asked.
“I did. And we have a problem.” She released a weighty breath.
“You know this vampire?”
“He is no vampire,” Feeyan said, “but an Impure—and the son of our greatest Impure enemy.”
Both Order members gasped. “Jeremy Donohue.”
She nodded. “This male must be handled just as his father was. Gray Donohue must be brought in and blood castrated before he has a chance to succeed where his father failed.”
“You think he may be at the head of this newly formed Resistance?” an Order member said. “Behind these abductions from the Paleo?”
“Only when we have him before us will we know for certain.” Feeyan’s bloodred fangs descended rapidly. “We will bleed his thoughts first, then his body. A true son of the father.”
“And will this Impure’s life end in a fire as well?” the Order member asked drily.
Feeyan grinned. “Accidents do happen. It is part of the human experience when you are part human.”
Gray didn’t know how long he’d been passed out, but when he woke it was still
Would accept no other way.
Within the bloodletting room in the Order’s reality, a human body had been flashed and laid out on the pallet between two Order members. The pair hovered over the body, robes pooling around their feet, upper lips curled back to display their brick red fangs.
“Vile,” said one.
“Must we have that thing in here?” said the other disgustedly.
Removing the needle from her wrists and neck, Feeyan sat up slowly on her pallet. She had just been drained, vials of her blood lined up in a neat row beside her. “That
thing
,” she said pointedly, “may have the location of our missing
mutore
.”
One of the Order
paven
looked confused. “I thought we had been monitoring this human. If my memory serves, he was able only to grant us images of her voice, her face, her animal.”
Feeyan flashed from her pallet to the bedside of the dead senator. “Yes. But his killer may have more.”
“You think the killer knows the
mutore
?” the second Order member asked.
“The guards at the hospital were in agreement that the perpetrator was not human. What reason would a vampire have for killing the senator?” She pressed his head to one side, revealing his temple. “I think one kills out of passion. That passion could be political, yes, but it could also be out of revenge.” Feeyan inhaled deeply, lengthened her fangs. “I despise the cold blood of a dead human.”
The Order members chuckled as she struck into the male’s temple, but one—one who had only pretended to give his blood earlier that day and was now sitting in the very back of the room pretending to practice his meditation as he shook beneath his robes—did not.
Titus Evictus lowered his head and drank the newly pulled blood of the Order member, Feeyan. Too intent on what was happening with the human senator, no one noticed him, no one suspected. And why would they? They did not know that he was once a Breeding Male, a genetically altered Pureblood vampire who could breed on command and choose the sex of its offspring. They did not know that when rogue Order leader Cruen had disappeared, his dark, magic-filled blood along with him, Titus had begun to decline. The Order’s blood was strong and took the edge off his need, but just barely.
He snatched another vial, drank it down in one thick gulp. He needed to find Cruen, the creator of the Breeding Male program, or he was going to return to the maniacal Beast who thought only of rutting anything, anywhere. But what bargain could he strike with Cruen now? He had given him all he had. He was worthless, and he would not betray his sons, not anymore. Not ever again.
Down at the other end of the room, Feeyan pulled out of the senator’s mind with a disgusted growl. “Vile indeed. But productive.”
“Did you see the face of the killer?” one Order member asked.
“I did. And we have a problem.” She released a weighty breath.
“You know this vampire?”
“He is no vampire,” Feeyan said, “but an Impure—and the son of our greatest Impure enemy.”
Both Order members gasped. “Jeremy Donohue.”
She nodded. “This male must be handled just as his father was. Gray Donohue must be brought in and blood castrated before he has a chance to succeed where his father failed.”
“You think he may be at the head of this newly formed Resistance?” an Order member said. “Behind these abductions from the Paleo?”
“Only when we have him before us will we know for certain.” Feeyan’s bloodred fangs descended rapidly. “We will bleed his thoughts first, then his body. A true son of the father.”
“And will this Impure’s life end in a fire as well?” the Order member asked drily.
Feeyan grinned. “Accidents do happen. It is part of the human experience when you are part human.”
Gray didn’t know how long he’d been passed out, but when he woke it was still
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