Page 8 of Fated In Blood

His hand clutched that tiny gold ring, worrying it up and down along the chain. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. “Are you saying what I think you are?”

“Slayers,” Blake hissed, his black-as-coal magic coiling protectively around us. “We could have professional slayers in town.”

“We’ll keep that information to ourselves for now. If Tyrell finds out, he’ll paint this town in blood to find them.” I picked up Spencer’s charred claw of a hand and yanked off the heavy signet band, weighing the ring in my palm. “I suppose duty requires us to take this back to his sire at Darkmore and report what we’ve found.”

“I hate that fucking place. You should have torched that mausoleum centuries ago.”

“Yeah, I should have. I can’t exactly burn my sire’s closest ally out of his own home. I might be king of this territory, but Tyrell’s an Ancient with the backing of the High Council, and I have no desire to fuck withthoseassholes.”

The High Council governed every clan, ruled over every vampire—both Born and Made—in America and in the Old Country. Their protection made Laurent Tyrell untouchable, under penalty of death. If he involved them in his son’s death…Blake and I were totally fucked.

“I heard they’re going through some kind of…reorganization.” When my brows went up, Blake shrugged. “Look, I hear things from my sources. Bits and pieces, you know how it is.”

“Doesn’t change the problem at hand. The bodies are piling up, and if Tyrell hasn’t noticed before…” I stared down at what was left of his son. “He’s going to fucking notice now.”

“The old bastard’s going to be so disappointed in his progeny.Spencer Tyrell, murdered in a back-alley street by a human girl. That won’t look good, etched into the family records.” Anice-cold smirk played on Blake’s lips. “But I suppose you could tell Laurent the truth, he raised his son to be a worthless git, and see how that argument goes over.”

“Maybe I’ll leave you behind and go this alone,” I muttered, wiping my hands on my pants before I stood up. “Chances are, you’ll get us both killed.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Blake pushed to his feet beside me, but he lifted his head, all signs of humor gone. “You smell her, don’t you?” I kept staring down at Spencer, but I felt my friend’s eyes drill into the back of my head.

Blake hid his dark, twisted past behind smartass remarks and bland, bitter arrogance, but vengeance burned hot inside him, and seeing those wounds on Spencer—no matter how depraved the fucker had been—would bring that darkness to the surface like poison.

Blake regressing back to the past was never a good thing.

My gaze homed in on that ring hanging on the chain around his neck. The one he was never without. For a moment, I wasn’t standing in a Thorndale alleyway, but the steps of Darkmore Castle, watching my friend gather up his sister’s broken body.

“Young, female…and a fuckinghuman.” Blake’s fangs flashed before he turned away. “She took down two centuries-old pure-blooded males and didn’t leave so much as a drop of blood at the scene.”

All true, but I was listening to everything hewasn’tsaying. If shewastrained to hunt down and kill our kind, then like cockroaches, where there was one…there were more.

The chances we had slayers in town were minimal. Tyrell had placed numerous protections around this place, as did my sire. In over four hundred years, a vampire slayer had never set foot in Thorndale.

No, our problem was this ongoing war between Blake, me, and Tyrell, the power struggle that was building to a dangerous crescendo.

And now his only son was dead.

But that scent…I wanted to gulp down lungfuls of this sweet, exotic spice and let her perfume saturate my senses until I was drowning in warm desert breezes. Nothing had ever affected me so strongly before, and I understood why these two bastards followed her to their deaths.

Her sweetness was a siren’s song rushing through me, leaving tattered tendrils of logic behind. I wanted to track her down like a beast, and once I found her, I wanted to…God, the things that mouthwatering scent made me want to do.

Why the hell was the smell fucking with me like this?

I ripped my thoughts away from that delicious, ambrosial aroma.

I had no time for females, especially humans. No time for weaknesses of the flesh, no matter how long it had been.No matter how fucking good she smelled. My focus had to be unwavering if I ever wanted to rule this kingdom of monsters.

“Did you even hear what I said, Rohr?”

“I fucking heard you.”

“Tyrell will want answers, Riordan. The fucking High Council will demand blood for this, the bunch of desiccated carcasses.”

“I said Ifucking know, Blake.” I scrubbed my hands down my face, praying for calm. Blake wasn’t where I should direct my anger. “Now let’s figure out how we’re going to spin this without stirring up an international shitstorm with the only Ancient left on American soil.”

I heaved out a sigh. “And let’s hope it’s not our fucking heads they’ll demand.”

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