Rajmund Page 10


As the hot water pummeled away his uncomfortable day's sleep, he thought about Krystof and what this latest crisis might be. The old man had very little contact with the world outside his own small circle these days. He'd lived in Buffalo for hundreds of years, the last ninety of them in a big, turn-of-the-century house in the Delaware Park section of town. A fear of fire had forced him to rewire the entire building some years ago, but there was no television, no sound system and just one computer, which was used by his minions to monitor security.


Remarkably, Krystof also owned an entire penthouse floor in a downtown high rise, with both offices and bedroom suites. But he never used it, unless there were visitors to impress—which meant once every eight years when it was his turn to host the annual meeting of the North American Vampire Council.


As for the city itself, Buffalo had once been fat and satisfied, its steel mills and ports thriving and new people arriving all the time. Raj had come here four decades before the American civil war, looking for a different future than that offered by his own country, which was being slowly torn apart by competing foreign interests. Pure chance had brought him into contact with Krystof, who had already been a vampire for centuries by then. Krystof was the first master vampire to travel to the new world. With no competition, he had established his own territory and made himself a vampire lord. And he had been constantly on the lookout for potential recruits from his native Poland, men who were accustomed to the hierarchy of nobility and would not chafe under his rule. That the men he recruited didn't always volunteer to serve him didn't matter. Once they were turned, like Raj, they had little choice.


Unfortunately, Lord Krystof's fortunes were, of necessity, tied to the city's, and Buffalo's heyday was far in the past. Krystof's refusal to see the truth of the decline, to move his seat of power to Manhattan or one of the other profitable Northeastern cities, was an indication of how out of touch he was; but his failure to maintain order in the territory was far more serious. Raj wasn't the only vampire who'd begun siring an army of loyal followers. If nothing was done, the Northeast would soon be a honeycomb of fiefdoms, weakening the whole until it shattered into pieces—or attracted the attention of some strong outsider who would come in and do a little permanent dusting.


When the shower's water began to lose its heat, Raj turned it off and stepped out, wrapping himself in a big towel and drying off as he strolled over to his closet. His choice of clothing usually ran to black denims and leather jackets, especially in cold weather. But tonight, he pulled out a charcoal worsted wool suit instead. Krystof would be pleased. And for right now, that was Raj's goal. He wanted the vampire lord smug and complacent in his own power, totally unprepared for the not-too-distant day when Raj made his move. He tossed the towel away and began to dress. His hunger was growing by the minute. It was time to hunt.


The woman moaned softly as Raj drank, the chemicals in his saliva turning the experience into one of orgasmic pleasure for her, instead of the brutal act it really was. Raj slowly withdrew his fangs from her neck and ran his tongue sensuously over the two small puncture wounds, speeding coagulation and healing. He licked his mouth and teeth, savoring the bouquet of her blood before retracting his fangs into his gums. Her blood was sweet with youth and warmed by the rum she'd drunk earlier.


He heard voices and moved quickly, hiding her small body behind his bulk as two waiters came down the dark hallway toward them, keeping his back turned until they were gone. He then walked the groggy woman back into the crowded main room, skirting the edge of the dance floor to an empty booth. She'd awaken soon, probably a little embarrassed at the obvious evidence of her orgasm. But there would be no memory of Raj and no lasting or negative effects. He'd taken only what he needed, less than if she'd donated at the local Red Cross. He strode out to his car, feeling strong and alive once again. It was still early, although no doubt later than Krystof would have preferred. But the old vampire lord's house was only a short drive and whatever waited for him there, he would now face it at full strength.


Chapter Eleven


The BMW responded readily when he turned onto Delaware Avenue, and he had to force himself to back off the accelerator. That was the danger of drinking too well. It left him feeling high and invincible, never a good combination when facing one's Sire.


He went in through the back door, nodding to the two guards stationed just inside the house—their faces were familiar, and they clearly recognized him, although he didn't know their names. He swung through the empty kitchen and into the hallway, where he took the basement stairs downward, resisting the urge to take them two at a time.


The room below was crowded with vampires, but they were little more than a wall of meat between Krystof and whoever came down the stairs. Krystof preferred to surround himself with weaklings, vampires who presented no challenge to the vampire lord's authority. If the old man had known ahead of time how powerful Raj would turn out to be, he probably would have drunk him dry and left him for the undertaker all those years ago.


But the truth was no one knew the full extent of Raj's power, not even Emelie. He kept it carefully shuttered for the most part, using only what he needed to get the job done. It was dangerous enough that Krystof considered him a threat. There was no reason to advertise just how much of a threat he really was. Of course, it was Raj's strength that brought him to the vampire lord's lair this evening. He'd had a chance to think about Krystof's abrupt summons, and that scenario was the only one that made sense. Whatever was going down in Buffalo, it was serious enough that Krystof wanted Raj's power at his back. Raj only hoped he'd survive whatever it was.


One of the newer vamps—a bulky Latino male Raj had never seen before—emerged from the crowd and thrust out his considerable chest in challenge. He was physically imposing, but registered not even a trickle on the power scale, which was all that mattered. Raj studied the younger vampire through half-lidded eyes and gave him a lazy smile. “Jozef,” he drawled as he looked over the idiot's shoulder. “If you value this pup, you better call him to heel right now."


Across the room, Krystof's head of security looked up and swore as the pup in question shoved himself into Raj's face with a snarl.


"Morales, you fucking idiot, stand down,” Jozef snapped. He crossed the basement and shoved at the vampire's thick chest. Morales stiffened against the push and only stared harder.


Raj chuckled. “This one might be too stupid to live. You sure you want to save him?"


"I said stand the fuck down.” Jozef shoved harder, sending the other vampire crashing through the crowd to smash into the hard wall on the other side. At Jozef's nod, two of the others held the idiot back when he would have rushed right back into the fray. The security chief shook his head in disgust. “Sorry about that, Raj. He's so new we have to lock him up at sunrise or he'll stand out there and watch the pretty lights in the sky."


"Maybe you should put him down then, do us all a favor. What's he doing here?"


"Krystof likes him."


Across the room, Morales grinned at him in triumph, but Raj only laughed. The puppy obviously didn't know it, but Krystof's favor meant a vampire was too stupid or too weak to pose even the tiniest threat.


"Our master's waiting for you,” Jozef said. Which meant Raj was late and Krystof was pissed.


Raj shrugged, unconcerned. “It was late when he called last night. I barely made it into town before dawn, and I needed to eat. What's this about?"


"Rajmund."


Every vampire in the room—except for Raj—went down on one knee as Krystof appeared in the doorway to his office. The kneeling was an affectation he insisted upon, and one Raj hadn't granted him in years.


"Sire,” Raj said with a bend of his neck, nothing more. He lifted his head and met Krystof's gaze directly, daring him to force the issue.


The vampire lord's thin mouth tightened briefly before curving into an insincere smile. “It's good to see you again, Rajmund.” His voice was strong and even, which meant he'd probably just fed. Over the last few years, it had become apparent that Krystof was feeding more and more often. It was another sign of his growing weakness, that he was reverting to a schedule closer to that of a newborn than a vamp of his considerable age and power. When he was hungry, his speech would become hesitant and uncertain like an aging human's, although he never looked old. It wasn't his body that was aging. It was his mind.


"Do come in,” he said now, sweeping his hand across his body in a graceful gesture of invitation. He started back into his office, but stopped, frowning as he gave Jozef a pointed look. “Clear this room, Jozef. Rajmund and I will require privacy."


The security chief rose from his kneeling position and stared moodily at their master's departing back. A long minute later, he turned his head and gave Raj an unreadable look before giving the vampire closest to them a quick push. “Everyone upstairs,” he barked.


Raj shrugged, gave the fuming Morales a wink and strolled through the doorway to Krystof's inner sanctum.


Krystof was alone but for a young woman lolling on an elaborate, velvet settee against one wall. She was half-naked, her blouse hanging open on small, pale breasts, her skirt scrunched up nearly to her waist and her underwear gone, if there had ever been any. Fresh blood, red and wet, seeped lazily from the big vein on her neck and she was humming softly, a dreamy expression on her face as she twirled a lock of purple-streaked hair with one finger.


"Lovely, isn't she?"


Raj swung his attention immediately over to the vampire lord, irritated that he'd permitted himself to be distracted by the human female. Distraction could be deadly in Krystof's presence, no matter that the old man was half senile. “Young,” he commented. But then Krystof had always liked them young.


Krystof bared his teeth in a grin that showed far more than a hint of fang. “Over eighteen and plucked from one of the blood houses, so you know she's legal.” He turned his back and walked silently across the deep pile carpeting to sit behind a fussy antique writing table with inlays so beautiful that even Raj could appreciate them. Velvet curtains in a full, rich red hung behind the vampire lord's desk—purely for effect since there no windows in any of the basement rooms. The remaining walls were bordered by a deep mahogany wainscoting against subdued satin wall paper.

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