His smile widened as amusement sparked within him. He wondered how people would react if they had known that on this wonderful, bright, warm day while the sun reigned brilliantly in the sky, the vampire monarchs and the Red Order Councilmen had met to discuss a pointless subject. Peace.
Silvie, the Shaw high priestess, had invited the Council and every ruler of darkness, all four chieftains of the vampire clans, to their neutral territory in Estonia. She had hoped to end the war between the Mylonas clan and the Red Order hunters, a blood feud that spanned two centuries.
Dorian Vlakhos, Chieftain of the Mylonas clan, had been willing to negotiate an armistice while the Red Order remained divided on their decision.
Falcon had sat beside his king; Hadrian of the Validus clan, during the meeting, listening intently to the discussion knowing full well nothing would come of it. The priestess had to be crazy to think a war such as this could simply end with a good chat and a treaty.
He, like the other vampires present, was a warrior to the bone. Death and war had been their sole occupation for centuries. They knew the game well, understood how the game was played. The war between the Mylonas and the Red Order would end with complete destruction, but not of the vampires as the hunters hoped.
The Red Order was a breath away from complete annihilation. After nearly two centuries of constant war, their numbers were scarce. Those who remained sought refuge underground. Their women grossly out numbered their men and were used like brood mares, guarded and locked away for safekeeping. Their children were trained and at the tender age of fourteen were dubbed soldiers, then sent off to fight the vampires. It wasn’t likely their race would survive the next century if an agreement could not be made.
Falcon’s heart ached for the children. They deserved to live in peace, not forced to face the demons of the night. If only the Red Order Councilmen could work past their prejudice and forsake their hate, peace could be possible. Until then, Falcon would pray every night for those children and for a solution to this madness.
He rubbed his brow. His head was beginning to ache. Though his charm shielded him, it could only do so much. After hours of standing like a statue before the window, his eyes were starting to burn.
Yet he remained, watching the humans scurry across the street. They went about their lives without a worry or even a second thought to the kinds of battles taking place around them. It was moments such as this when he realized how jaded and disillusioned he had become over his eight hundred plus years of living.
Once, he had been just like them and yes, there were times he wished things had turned out differently for him. But, he would always be indebted to Hadrian, for he had granted him a new life. Hadrian had changed him. He had given him strength and purpose. As the other Validus vampires had searched the battlefield for worthy humans to turn into fledglings, they had ignored him. But Hadrian, who had no intentions of ever turning a human, paused by his side. He had lifted him from the mud. His black as night gaze peered directly into his soul as Falcon struggled for every breath, fighting the gray specter of death. He had seen something within Falcon worth saving.
Falcon shook his head. To this day he had been unable to discern why Hadrian had changed him or why he had welcomed him into his clan as if he were a long lost brother. He had accepted him when no one else ever had. Hadrian trained him, taught him how to harness his powers. It was because of Hadrian’s diligent and detailed training that Falcon quickly rose through the vampire warrior ranks and became a Black Knight, an elite warrior. He became one of the personal guard of his clan’s chieftains and protector of the noble houses. He had been a knight in life and now in death. Falcon had wanted nothing more than to serve his maker, his king, his friend – Hadrian. That is until he met her.
He cursed. He couldn’t go even fifteen minutes without thinking of her or envisioning her the last time they had met. Sonya’s hair cascaded down her back in delicate spirals, her golden eyes glowing with desire, her luscious lips parted as she gasped in pleasure. He stood between her thighs, her red silk dress bunched about her waist, her breasts bare for him.
Falcon violently shoved the mental image aside. Thoughts of her only brought pain and misery; the toxic combination poisoned his heart and burned his soul.
That night at Dimitri and Kerstyn’s wedding had been a mistake. He thanked the great power above that he had come to his senses before they made love. Sonya had been ready for him. Hot and wet. And he had been a breath away from claiming her. No matter how hard he wished or prayed to forget their brief interlude, the memories would not leave him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. Thoughts of her plagued his every waking hour while memories of their stolen moments together haunted his dreams.