Page 9 of Born in Blood

My future is suddenly uncertain and uncharted, and that is both unnerving and exhilarating. Perhaps I will finally become the man I was always meant to be.

You are no longer a man, Axl Thorne. His voice is in my head now, and it doesn’t creep me out as much as it should. It feels like he is meant to be there.

So what am I?

A vampire.

Chapter

Four

ALEXANDROS

It has been centuries since I have experienced the desire to turn another as my sired. Much longer still since I acted upon it. But there was something about Alastair Thorne, or Axl as he would now prefer to be known. I was captivated from the moment I first saw him in the park, sitting on a bench and staring into space with a look on his face that was full of both melancholy and hope. He reminded me so much of someone I have tried my hardest to forget that it brought me to a standstill. For weeks, I observed him. His calculated wooing of Duke Welsby’s betrothed. His ability to both stand out and fade into the background.

On the surface, he appeared cunning and calculated, with a vicious streak I admire. And all of that will serve him well in the world I have introduced him to, but it is that which lay just beneath the surface that intrigued me most: The deep-rooted pain within his soul that made him the callous man he is and the single spark of hope that continued to flicker within his dark heart, hinting at the man he could have been had he been raised differently. That man, I am sure, would have been considered a worthy suitor for the viscount’s daughter and would not have found himself being hunted like a dog. And thus, he would neverhave found himself in a position to make a bargain for his soul with a man like me. A fact made evident when he spared young Lynette’s life earlier. His beast was sated enough after two kills for him to stop feeding without my intervention, and that is also testimony to his strength of will.

Axl has remained silent for most of our walk back from Mayfair to Whitechapel, but I can hear the myriad of questions buzzing about inside his head. There is so much to learn in this new world of which he is now a part, and it is far better to learn through experience.

“If I’m to travel to the other side of the world, then I suppose I should let my mother and father know I am leaving, perhaps never to return?”

His parents live in Willesden Green. A respectable area where his father enjoys a certain level of esteem, the kind that is unearned and undeserved. It is a fair walk from Whitechapel, much faster if we run, but the streets of London are too crowded to risk detection by moving at such inhuman speeds. “I am sure we shall return here someday, Axl. However, I doubt that your parents will still be alive when we do.” I neglect to add that I doubt they will live to see another sunrise if we visit them before our departure for America.

“I think I at least owe them the decency of advising them of my leaving. I’m sure it will bring them a great sense of relief,” he adds with a delf-deprecating laugh.

“Are you sure it is wise?” is all I offer.

He frowns, his dark brown eyes scrutinizing me. “Why would it not be?”

I tip my face to the sky. It is filled with a thick blanket of smog that makes me long for the clean skies of my home in Havenwood. “You are…differentfrom when you saw them last, are you not?”

His confusion is palpable enough even if I were not encumbered with his thoughts and feelings as his sire.

“Your father has a temper. Your mother is a constant”—I draw in a breath through my nose and go on—“disappointment to you. Is it wise to confront them when you possess such increased strength and whilst your bloodlust is still so close to the surface?”

“You think I’d hurt them?”

I shrug. “Tell me that you have not imagined wrapping your hands around your father’s neck more than once and I will call you a liar.”

He huffs with indignation. “That doesn’t mean I’d actually do it.”

“Not then. But perhaps now.”

He presses his lips together and is deep in thought for a few moments before he replies. “Whatever happens, I will not lose a moment’s sleep over it.” His voice is laced with anger. Fresh pain—the kind I am all too familiar with myself—burns hot in his chest. There is much to learn about Axl Thorne, and I am uncharacteristically keen to know all there is to know about him.

“Then we shall pay them a visit. I will secure us a carriage after nightfall. And then we will return to Whitechapel and take our fill of our companions before we set sail.”

“They’re not coming with us?” he asks.

“No. You may keep the golden-haired one as a pet if you desire, but there are many, many pleasures of the flesh for you to enjoy, young Axl, and you will have more than your fill. Women will fall at your feet.”

His pupils blow wide, and a spike of adrenaline courses through him. I do not add that men will be equally drawn to him, for I sense he has never been with a man before. Humans have such absurd puritanical notions about sexuality, and I do not wish to scare him off.

His lips twitch into a grin. “I thought maybe Kira. You seemed quite attached to her last night.”

I shake my head. I have not felt anything akin to attachment to anyone for three hundred long years. At least not until I sank my fangs into him a few nights ago. “Her blood is particularly pleasing to me. It reminded me of home. That is all.”

He nods his understanding. “How long will the bloodlust last? Is it always this intense? The hunger?”

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