Page 56 of The Vampire's Claim

You didn’t know this, but you knew Leah was my mate?Julian asked mentally, not wanting others to hear.

Alistair’s expression didn’t waver at Julian’s dark tone.The threads of fate are much clearer to me than the future.

Next time, keep your knowledge to yourself. I don’t need your meddling.

The Vampire King turned the full force of his ancient, steadfast, and astute gaze onto Julian. After a thousand years, Alistair was the only one who had the ability to unsettle him.

Would you rather I’d left her be? Leave her to the Organization’s clutches and have her brutally murdered fighting for their cause?

Would that be Leah’s life otherwise? Becoming a Hunter to die at a vampire’s hands? If they had met on the battlefield instead of his office, would he have recognized her as his mate? Or would he have murdered her in cold blood before the mating bond even registered?

He understood how savagely his kind fought the Hunters. In a fight for survival, they let the vampire reign. They were not the smooth, suit-wearing businessmen seen on TV broadcasts. No, they were soulless monsters. Julian had no illusions about his nature. Would Leah have to face that monster? Or had she already faced one?

The thought of Leah, who had been in his arms less than five minutes ago, wild and abandoned with desire, facing down a vampire chilled him to the bone.

Still, he didn’t appreciate Alistair’s knowing gaze, or the way the Vampire King manipulated them to his will like puppets.

You don’t know what I want.

His frustration mounted. The enclosed room, the heavy atmosphere, and the thought of Leah’s future made it impossible to stay still.

“I’m going to the bomb site to see if I can find anything. Let me know if you discover anything new.”

The second he was outside, he leaped into the sky, his wings expanding to their full width. He loved flying. Loved the feel of the wind against his skin. Loved the aerial view it provided him of Vegas, alive with lights and sounds in the night.

A hundred years ago, he had wanted nothing to do with Alistair’s city. He’d thought Alistair a fool to tell humans of their existence and paint a target on their backs. But he had served when Alistair had asked.

Vegas was his. The people here, humans, vampires, and other supernatural creatures, were his responsibility. Julian hated to admit it, but Alistair’s summons had come at the right time and had prevented him from going aground.

And if he had gone aground for centuries, waking up in a new world, Leah would be long gone.

He didn’t want to think about her. About how their lives might not have intersected if not for Alistair’s meddling. About her being his enemy.

Why was she with the Organization? What was the Organization’s goal in sending her here? They couldn’t have expected her to kill any vampires. Other than the C2 implant, she was completely human, not a genetically enhanced Hunter.

The fact she was his mate had clouded his judgment for too long. She seemed so harmless; it made him forget she worked for the Organization.

A hideous thought occurred to him.

Did she have anything to do with this?

No. Leah wouldn’t be part of something so heinous. He thought of the way her face and her eyes lit up when she smiled, how she bit her lip when she was concentrating, and the compassion and warmth when she spoke about the shelters.

Could all that be an act? All their interactions, all her words, all fake. Planned.

Something unpleasant twisted in his chest. Julian was glad when the broken, smoking Tower came into sight. Landing on the neighboring building’s roof, he gazed down at the activity below. A few fire trucks lined the street, their red and white lights blinding in the darkness. Some of his own people darted back and forth, carrying debris and carting survivors to the EMTs.

Good. There were survivors.

He studied the crowds milling about the building. These kinds of things always drew onlookers who took pictures and posted them online. The Hunters had timed it perfectly. Julian wondered how long Marek and Alistair could keep the human diplomats in the dark.

He’d leave the humans for Alistair to deal with.

A man and woman standing to the left of the building entrance, near one of the fire trucks, caught his attention. They both looked to be in their mid-thirties, maybe younger. Julian’s ability to tell humans’ ages had disintegrated as he’d grown older and lost interest in them.

The humans wore similar form-fitting jeans, combat boots, and dark leather jackets. They had a straight, no-nonsense military stance Julian associated with the Hunters. The woman was at least trying to fit in by holding her phone up and pretending to be taking pictures. The man, however, stood with his back straight as an arrow. His eyes roamed the crowd, studying the rescue workers and the emergency response.

Much like what Julian was doing from his perch on the building rooftop.

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