Matthias startled at the loud knock on the door. No one knew he was here except Frank, and the Tribunal director—as he’d so smugly boasted on the phone—was lounging in a posh New York hotel suite, awaiting the Tribunal vote on Aidan Murphy’s nomination in only a week.
The knock sounded again, followed by a rough, deep voice. “Herr Ludlam? It is Wolfgang, the hotel manager. I have something for you, a gift sent by Herr Greisser.”
Matthias considered not answering. He hated to be paranoid, but better paranoid than dead. Still, while Wolfgang did bring a bag of unvaccinated blood for him after each daysleep, however much Frank paid for that service, it was not the same as feeding from a live human. Perhaps this was a human feeder.
Matthias opened the door a crack and then pulled it open wider. Wolfgang was not alone, and the person next to him was definitely human—disappointingly, a man. But Matthias wasn’t in a position to be choosy.
“I hope that is my gift.” Matthias sized up the human: a young man in his mid twenties, with the classic Austrian chiseled features, blond hair, and clear blue eyes. Yes, he would do nicely.
“Herr Greisser wished to reward you for being such a good friend and helping in his business ventures,” Wolfgang said, smiling. “Peter here will be at your disposal for the next half hour, at which time I will come and collect him. Is he satisfactory?”
Matthias wondered if Peter had a sister; then again, he was so anxious for blood that didn’t come in a plastic container, he’d have fed from small, balding Wolfgang himself. “Of course.”
When Wolfgang had gone and the door closed on his footsteps, Matthias gestured Peter to a sofa.
He looked at the chair, then at the bed. “You do not wish me to undress?”
Interesting thought. He was quite a pretty man and Matthias grew hard at the thought of that young, firm flesh under his hand. But a half hour limited his options. He’d rather have a warm vein than a blowjob. “Just your sweater, please.”
Peter nodded and pulled the white wool sweater over his head, giving him a tousled look that became even more tousled as he reclined on the bed.
Matthias’s fangs ached at the thought of sinking into that lovely spot on the inside of the groin, but time had become his enemy. He unbuttoned his own shirt and removed it before climbing on the bed and lowering himself on top of Peter.
The young man’s warm skin was as silky and firm as he’d imagined, and Matthias grew harder still at the idea of flipping him over and taking him. But the bloodsong was too loud, too enticing.
He kissed Peter’s firm lips and then turned the young man’s head to the right and bit.
Peter jerked beneath him, then relaxed with a sigh. Matthias moved with the rhythm of his feed, rocking his hips against Peter with each draw of blood. The young man’s cock was a hard, solid ridge against Matthias’s, and he rocked his hips harder, fed more deeply.
He didn’t feel the needle going into his skin. Only when the pain began searing through his veins did he pull back and look stupidly at his arm, the syringe emptying its yellow liquid into his body. The horrific burn spread from his arm and traveled like liquid fire through his bloodstream.
He was so sated from feeding that his reactions were sluggish. “What was that? What the hell?” He rolled off Peter, no longer aroused but angry, and more than a little frightened. The syringe still hung from his arm; he pulled it out and threw it on the floor. “What did you give me?”
Peter smiled. “I do not get paid to ask questions.” He got off the bed, retrieved his shirt, and headed toward the door. “I get paid to let you feed from me, and to give you the injection.” He looked back on his way into the hallway, where Matthias could see Wolfgang leaning against the opposite wall—waiting, no doubt, in case there had been trouble. “The hard cock, you did not have to pay for.”
He slammed the door behind him, and before Matthias could pull it open, the lock clicked.
He turned the knob, fury rising inside him like a storm surge, red and hot. “Let me out!” Surely Frank Greisser had not ordered this done. Hadn’t Matthias given him every last bit of information he’d requested?
No answer came from the hall, and Matthias learned quickly that the door had some type of reinforced steel or other fortification. He couldn’t break it. Couldn’t pull it from its frame. He charged to the window and found a fine grid of silver bars across it. Added during his daysleep, no doubt.
Fury turned to panic as Matthias paced the room, his gaze finally landing on the syringe that lay in the floor. The burn that had followed the injection had calmed; he was aware of it if he tried to sense it, but it was no longer painful.