Page 5 of Fangs and Family
I still could recall the taste of her blood, so full and sweet, like the best Hungarian Tokaji1, Nina’s surprise at the erotic sensation of my bite, followed by the throaty purr as she leant into the feeling, whispering my name while her hands found their way under my shirt….
Vampire venom, excreted at will, was an adaptation my kind had developed for survival. Whilst a victim in pain was more fulfilling, the times of killing with impunity were long gone, so we changed our hunting practices to avoid the pitchforks and fire of the enraged victims’ families. Now, instead of screaming and thrashing humans, our bite made our food into a pliable puddle of lust, easy to drink from and craving more. Unless we wanted them to suffer, which we sometimes still did.
Nina was no exception. I could have made her give me everything, taking her body and anything else I chose to possess, but I stopped before the venom-induced lust could overwhelm her free choice.
I was a fool. A softhearted fool who hadn’t wanted her to hate me later. Not that it helped, and Nina made a point of completely ignoring me at the charity event. I would not make the same mistake again, and I wouldn’t beg for her attention.
‘Adam! Adam, look at me!’ I heard Leszek shouting, and I opened my eyes, his anger burning through my alcohol-induced stupor.
‘Fine, fine. Give it a rest, I’ll go with you.’ I said, standing. ‘I can go to the dockyard tomorrow and check the next shipment. Just… give me an hour or two, and I need a shower.’
‘You’re fine as you are,’ he said, smirking as we walked to his car. ‘We’re going to the island. Sara wants to talk to you.’
The change in the tone of his voice amused me. Leszek might be the prodigious God of Forests and Wilderness, the powerful Leshy who guarded the gates to the Nether in Pomerania and the man who controlled the Amber Syndicate in the Baltic, but both man and god quailed before Sara, the human doctor and Soul Shepherd, the one being loved and worshipped by this terrifying entity beside me.
I could barely understand that kind of attachment.
Leszek was different. He was the original shifter and shared their need to form a permanent bond with their mate. Vampires were not made to be monogamous. Since we’d stopped killing our prey to enhance the chance of survival, we began taking from multiple donors, and with the pleasure our bite induced, it was nearly impossible to be faithful to one person. None of the vampires I knew had a bonded mate, their At’kar2. The vampire ritual of mating for life was gone, replaced by a lifestyle no one wanted to talk about.
Now, the only thing that could make us crave one person and no other was the Blood Fever. Or the Vampire Bane, as some called it. It was an aberration, an addiction that turned a vampire into an obsessed fool attached to his donor beyond any reasonable justification. Sometimes, it came with affection, but most cases were tied to violent mood swings and bursts of insanity. Eventually, when the donor died, and they always did, the vampire would follow, unable to find any joy in their existence. It was far too similar to how I was acting now for me to feel comfortable.
As Leszek drove us through the city, I analysed my predicament. I didn’t exhibit the typical symptoms of Blood Fever. I didn’t stalk Nina or force-feed off her. In fact, I had left her alone since I’d been thrown out.
I was functioning reasonably well, doing my job, caring for the Syndicate and my own small nest. The last incident wasn’t typical, so I could forgive myself for that brief episode, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget the woman with the obsidian eyes.Maybe it’s because the time you spent in Nina’s company was the happiest you’d felt in years?Whispered the voice in my head that I didn’t want to acknowledge.
The curse that slipped out in answer to my inner dialogue caught Leszek’s attention, and he looked over, concern flashing in his eyes, but as with any alpha male, he knew when to leave talking about emotions well enough alone.
‘Drink this,’ he said, pulling a flask from the glove compartment, and I scrunched my face in suspicion, expecting one of his healing tonics. ‘I will not talk to a drunk. Drink it, Adam.’ He ordered, and with a heavy sigh, I put the flask to my mouth, following his curt command.
Magic punched me in the guts, and I welcomed the distraction.
‘I have a job for you. It’s well suited to your particular skill set and might even help you get back to your usual self.’ Leszek said after the moment of silence.
‘Which skill set do you mean? The one that finds people or the one that makes them disappear?’ I asked, hoping for the second option. I might not be allowed to show my anger, but the opportunity to unleash some of it? That I would welcome.
‘Your tracking abilities. I was contacted by a wealthy client, an ancient vampire currently living in France, who’s had a family heirloom stolen and wants it returned as soon as possible.’
With a raised eyebrow and a knowing smile, my annoying boss pulled over and, without another word, climbed out of the car. I followed him like a lost puppy staring at a bone until he snorted and stopped.
‘I thought you might enjoy letting off some steam in a treasure hunt, so I already accepted the offer.’
‘Why? I don’t know what Sara sees in you. You’re more annoying than that windbag Stribog3. Didn’t you ever consider asking me first?’
I put my heart into acting affronted, but we both knew I loved nothing more than ferreting out secrets, so Leszek’s laughter wasn’t unexpected, and neither was the gesture I gave him in reply.
I caught up with my friend, and we walked to the entrance of his home. I should say mansion, really, because Leszek’s home was old and beautiful. Its white walls and wooden beams were covered with wisteria, giving it an otherworldly feel that made it feel natural and not man-made. The imposing structure was surrounded by oak, elder and walnut trees that remembered a time before humans set foot on the island, when the Elder Races lived free of persecution. That, of course, was long before the creation of the Nether, the magical refuge for those hunted to near extinction by humans.
Only three of the Elder Races could live in the purely physical sphere now, and all of us shared some human traits: shifters, mages, and vampires. Anyone else, mainly spirits and gods, could only visit this realm from the Nether, and all with significantly reduced powers. All except Leszek, of course. The god-like power of the Leshy was forever tied to the Gates, anchoring them in the physical realm.
‘You know where the guest room is. Take a shower and maybe have a nap. We’ll talk later,’ Leszek said, opening his arms as Sara rushed into his embrace.
‘Hi darling, I see you returned our lost sheep to the fold,’ she said, grinning at me before stretching out and grabbing Leszek’s beard, pulling him down for a kiss.
‘Get a room,’ I said, their display of affection rubbing me the wrong way, and I felt my mood darken again.
‘We need to talk, Adam. Come with me,’ Sara ordered, moving toward the living room. I followed before Leszek’s words stopped me.
‘Let the man rest, my Firefly. He needs a shower and sleep to clear his head. You can talk in the evening, and I can assure you his brain will be working much better by then.’
