Page 13 of Claim of Blood
When Adam had offered him immortality in his final years, John had just laughed. “Human nature is a tricky thing,” he’d said. “One is always a student of it, and never its master. It is my nature, and I intend to die with it.”
Now, those words resonated anew as Adam contemplated Leo. Would the hunter make the same choice, valuing his mortal nature above immortality? Or would he be different?
As the sun set, Adam finally looked up from his work. The security feed showed an empty lobby café—Katherine von Rothenburg had departed. He summoned his car and driver, heading home to Innsbrook.
The Mercedes wound through the Second Cat toward the 15,000-acre development. His home sat at its heart, the largest mansion in the central subdivision. From the window, Adam caught the scent of wolf on the evening breeze—the PDC Pack running their perimeter checks.
Gaspard met him at the door. “Welcome home.”
“Maja made it back?” Adam asked, falling into step with his child.
“Yes, though she’s currently terrorizing the staff.” Gaspard’s tone was dry. “I understand her concern about the hunters, but...”
“That bad?”
“She stormed in as if the Revolution was at our doorstep.”
They entered the study, and Gaspard poured brandy from a crystal decanter. “The preparations for the Los Angeles Court visit are proceeding. Though I’ve taken the liberty of assigning them the North Wing.”
Adam raised an eyebrow. “Not the South Wing?”
“Sadly reserved for the Tokyo delegation,” Gaspard replied with perfect innocence.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Jian leading the delegation?”
Gaspard’s slight grimace told Adam everything. “He reorganized my library the last time he visited. Eight thousand volumes, alphabetical by author, with no regard for subject matter.”
Adam suppressed a smile. “That was 1953, Gaspard.”
“He also rearranged the entire East Gallery while I was in meetings.” Gaspard’s voice carried genuine pain. “The tapestries were perfectly placed.”
“The full Council meets in an hour,” Gaspard mentioned as servants wheeled in dinner.
Adam couldn’t quite suppress his groan. The weekly meetings were bearable, but bringing Nathaniel and Emilia always complicated matters.
“Three items on tonight’s agenda,” Gaspard continued. “The solstice celebration, the Los Angeles delegation, and our hunter situation.”
Through the study’s window, a familiar figure walked along the sidewalk. Leo von Rothenburg moved with a distractededge, amber eyes fixed on the concrete, entirely unaware of his surroundings—a dangerous state for a hunter.
Adam raised his hand, silencing Gaspard mid-sentence. His beauty shouldn’t be here. Couldn’t be here. Not in this neighborhood, not this close to his territory.
He shouldn’t go to him. Not tonight. Not like this. But the pull was stronger than caution. Adam moved before he could stop himself—a predator chasing something he shouldn’t want.
Chapter Five
Leo
“Getittogether,”Leomuttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. The gesture made him think of how Matthews had touched him, and he dropped his hand as if burned.
The facts were simple: Adam Matthews was Amenemhat, the First Son of Merytre herself. One of the most ancient and powerful vampires in existence. And now here he was, hiding in plain sight in Porte du Coeur’s wealthiest district.
Leo hurried away from the mansion, but he’d barely taken three steps when a familiar presence washed over him like a wave, sending his pulse racing. He didn’t need to turn around to know who stood behind him.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with tension. Leo kept his back to the vampire, but every nerve ending screamed with awareness. He could feel Matthews approaching, each step sending jolts of electricity up his spine.
Then came the rush of displaced air. Strong hands gripped his arms, and suddenly he was being propelled toward a small outbuilding at the edge of the property.
The door opened with a decisive click, and Leo found himself pulled inside what appeared to be a golf cart garage. The door shut behind them with a soft thud that echoed in Leo’s racing pulse.
