Page 1 of Crimson Mourning

CHAPTER ONE

DAMON

I felt their eyes on me as soon as I entered the room. Familiars. Fucking wannabes. It’s a point of emphasis for me not to have them around. One more thing to separate me from the rest of my kind.

“The council will see you now,” Michelle said.

Her sweet voice brought me from my thoughts and back into the room. Straight black hair, small frame, perky breasts, flirty demeanor with a hint of mischief on the side. She was a beautiful woman, and in another life, she would have been mine. But this wasn’t that life, and she wasn’t mine. She wasn’t the one. She wasn’t Cassie.

The waiting area was a guarded room with comfortable seating, but devoid of any windows. Only a few had accesses. This iteration of council members didn't have the mutations necessary to withstand daylight, so the only lighting available was incandescent ceiling lights which threw an eerie glow over everything in the room. Fitting for a vampire sanctuary.

A large, metal door served as the entrance. Secured by two vampire sentries, they had orders to final death any threat to the council. On the opposite side of the room stood the entrance tothe council chambers. It was another, more imposing metal door through which only those who had the right security code could travel.

Michelle placed a delicate hand on my shoulder and got a cheap feel for her efforts before she put the blindfold on me. Her movements were subtle, but I was aware of them, and it caused the corner of my mouth to turn up.

“Smooth,” I said, low enough for her to hear, but out of earshot of the guards in the room. “Do you treat all the boys like this?”

“Only the ones I like,” she whispered back.

“Does that mean you like me, Michelle?”

“You have your purpose,” she flirted. “But first, I have to do mine.”

“At least buy me dinner next time,” I teased.

Under the pitch-black of the blindfold, I hear her chuckle as she moves away. It’s a shame she was a familiar for the council. I was turned vampire, but not because I chose the life. I couldn’t wrap my head around a person seeking it. Next came the soft whoosh of a console, followed by the clicks of a few keys as she entered the code to unlock the chamber doors. Michelle was right. She had a purpose. She was dedicated to the council and sworn to serve them. But as she led me through the hallway beyond the door and towards them, I sensed then what I felt the first time I met her in the course of her duties. There was something different about this one.

My senses were on high alert as she led. The blindfold around my eyes eliminated my sight, but smell, touch, and hearing were on full blast. As we moved, the breeze kissed my cheek and brought with it the smell of blood and cedar. The sound of our footsteps echoed off the walls and blasted my ears. Every instinct inside of me screamed to count the number of steps from the waiting area to the chambers.

“Nothing in this world is secure,” my father once told me. “Not the surety of this virus, and definitely not the lifespan of a vampire.”

Michelle removed the blindfold from my eyes before excusing herself from the room, and I looked at the three pompous characters standing behind three wooden podiums. Staring at them, I’m reminded of the lesson father taught me. The lifespan of a vampire is never as long as they think it is.

“We summoned you here—“

Oh, hell no.

“Let’s be clear,” I interrupted. “No one summons me.”

The nerve of her. Sorcha was the head of the softest clan of vampires around. Dressed in flowing purple robes, the only reason she was on the council was because of her appearance. Her clan stayed to the south and had the best-looking members. Whether human or vampire, beauty was beauty. But this made her arrogant, and of little use to me.

“Icameto see if the words spewed forth from your lips were going to be worth my time. Don’t mistake my curiosity for your authority. A mistake like that could have grave consequences.”

“Are you threatening us?” Auberon asked.

“I’m correcting you.”

“You arrogant pup.”

Auberon’s clan was in the north. Pale complexion, with white hair, he was formidable. Dealing with icy conditions tended to harden a person in ways others wouldn’t know. He was not to be underestimated, but neither was I.

“Take it how you will,” I responded.

“This union between you and the human woman—“

What the fuck did Gregory say?

“Her name is Cassie.”

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