Page 6 of Born in Blood

I purse my lips. He has a point. My parents hate me as much as I hate them. I have few friends, at least none that can be counted upon. And I prefer it like that. I keep my acquaintancescasual for a reason. Everything is much easier that way. If nobody gets close, then nobody can hurt you.

“Where are you from?”

He glances sideways at me, but his face is unreadable, and I’m unable to tell if he’s annoyed by my question. “America.”

“I mean originally. Your accent is…”

“Greek.” He snaps his reply.

I suck on my top teeth and continue following him through the dark streets, unaware of what his intentions are for this night. “Where are we going?”

He gives me his full attention now. “I thought perhaps you would want to see young Lynette before we left.” His lips curve ever so slightly.

My cock stiffens at the memory of Lynette’s supple body and the feral whimpers I tore from her, but that’s as far as my affection for her goes. “Not particularly.”

He laughs, but there’s no amusement in it. Instead, it’s a dark and dangerous sound that makes me shiver. “An acquaintance of mine informed me that one of the duke’s men escaped. He has been talking to the duke of a man with the strength of ten, teeth like razors, and claws like knives.” He inspects his fingers, and I do the same. His neatly trimmed fingernails contradict the last of those claims, but I can attest to him possessing both of the former.

“So we are …?”

“We are going to put an end to the spreading of such notions, Alastair.” He gives me his full attention. “And then I shall answer all of your remaining questions.”

I swallow the trepidation that forces its way up my gullet, and with no other choice, I continue with him on his quest to find the duke and his loose-tongued foot soldier.

We arrive at the duke’s house much quicker than I anticipated. Alexandros walks at the same pace most men run atfull speed, and tonight I kept up with him with minimal effort. He guides me around to the servant’s entrance, and we manage to slip inside unnoticed.

My ears prick up at the unmistakable sound of Lynette’s whimpers, but these are not the ones familiar to my ears. They aren’t filled with pleasure. No, these are something else entirely.

Alexandros walks down the hallway and motions with his head for me to follow before stopping outside a door that I assume leads to the parlor.

“What in God’s name—” The approaching guard’s voice is cut off by Alexandros’s hand squeezing his windpipe. He gives a quick flick of his wrist, and I hear a distinct snapping sound. A second later, the man drops to the floor. My canine teeth protract into fangs, the unfamiliar ache forcing me to cradle my jaw with my palm.

“You may sate your bloodlust in full anon,” Alexandros says, his voice calm and steady. “For now, remain alert.”

“I did n-not.” Lynette’s cries ring out from behind the closed door.

Alexandros barges into the room. The two men standing guard near the doorway approach us, and before I can even blink, he has ripped out one’s throat with his teeth while he hoists the other in the air by his shirt collar as though the man were as light as a feather.

Lynette screams, dragging all my attention to her and her torn skirts and mottled skin. My little peach, all bruised and battered. The duke towers over her, shaking with fury and indignation before his attention is directed to the commotion in the doorway. Alexandros has his teeth embedded in the second guard’s gullet now, and the beast caged within me growls and shakes to get out.

The scent of blood in the air has me licking my lips, desperate for a taste. When Alexandros tosses the man toward me, it takesme not a second to catch him in my grasp and sink my fangs into the tender flesh of his throat. Relief and bone-deep satisfaction flow through me as a crimson river of his blood rolls down my gullet. I suck hard and fast until his heart slows to an eventual stop.

It’s only another piercing scream that catches my attention, forcing me to tear my teeth from his skin. I look up at where Lynette is clutching her skirts and cowering beside the fireplace as Alexandros holds the duke up in the air by his neck.

“Where is your footman?” he asks, his voice so cool and entirely at odds with the way he shakes the duke like a ragdoll.

“Wh-what footman?” The duke splutters, his face turning a deeper shade of purple with each passing second.

“The one who told you of the man with the claws like knives.” He squeezes the duke’s throat tighter. “Do these feel like knives to you?” He lets out a dark laugh and repeats his question. “Where is he?”

The duke’s eyes travel to the body at my feet. “That was he.”

Alexandros hums softly, licking his lips like he’s contemplating what to do next. He releases his victim, and the duke curls into a ball and whimpers like a dying dog—no, he is more akin to a rat. “It seems we only have two witnesses left to tell of the awful deeds of this man with the strength of ten then, do we not?” he asks, his eyes raking over Lynette.

“I won’t say a word. I promise.” She shakes her head, and a fresh stream of blood trickles from her mouth. My muscles tense, my body ready to launch itself at her and feast, but Alexandros holds out a hand, and I immediately still. It’s as though I am wired to obey him.

He crouches down, coming face to face with her. Ignoring the sniveling duke, Alexandros curls a lock of her hair between his fingers. “And why would I believe you, little Lynette?” he asks, his voice deep and smooth now, like the richest dark treacle. Soparadoxically soothing even as everything else about the man drips with dangerous intent.

She stares into his eyes. “You saved my life. He was going to…” She looks past him until her dark eyes lock on mine, pleading with me. “Alastair, tell him I can be trusted.”

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