Jenner let out a low whistle. “He’s held on to his need for vengeance for a while, then?”
“Centuries,” Mikhail said. “And anger like that only builds with time.”
“It’s good we’re amassing an army, then. Because he won’t stop until we’re dead … or he is.”
Mikhail sat in quiet contemplation. He’d set something in motion tonight. Something he couldn’t undo. He just hoped that he hadn’t inadvertently given his enemy the upper hand by steering Siobhan on the path to Gregor. “It is good,” he replied. He’d need an army if he was going to protect any of them from not only the Sortiari’s twisted view of Fate but that of a formidable berserker warlord, hell-bent on revenge.
* * *
Ronan closed the wounds on the female’s throat before pulling away. A wistful smile complemented her dreamy expression. She licked her lips and sighed. “Mmmm.”
She palmed his cock through his jeans and Ronan moved her hand aside. He was hard and needed to fuck like he’d needed her blood, but he’d given his troth to Siobhan and if he so much copped a feel of the female beside him it would be his ass.
“I can pleasure you,” she said with a childlike pout that wasn’t doing anything for him. Acting like a testy teenager was sure to guarantee that any thoughts of bedding the female would soon fizzle. “I know you want me, Ronan.” She wiped a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth and sucked it from the tip of her finger. “You’re hard.”
No shit. But it wasn’t because she was so gods-damned irresistible. It was simply because he’d fed. And the need for sex awakened with his body after he ingested blood. Came with the territory now.#p#分页标题#e#
Before Mikhail had turned Ronan, he would have felt bad for the female. He would have assuaged her ego as he gently turned her down. For decades, he’d wanted nothing more than to be turned. To know the strength and power of being a true vampire and not just a pathetic shadow of his true self. The prospect of losing his soul had seemed a small price to pay in comparison for what he’d gain. Besides, a vampire was only soulless until his mate tethered him. What were a few years—or a few hundred—when he had millennia ahead of him? He had plenty of distractions in the meantime: males and females alike lined up, ready and willing to let him feed from their veins, an army to amass, and a kingdom to help build. And even though he hated her, he had Siobhan to keep him occupied when his lust mounted. Surely those things would help to distract him from the emptiness that had opened up inside of him like an endless black chasm the day Mikhail turned him.
Ronan’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he couldn’t believe that he almost hoped it was Siobhan calling to summon him to her bed. He was wired, too keyed up from feeding, to call it a night. He was already pissed that she hadn’t answered his earlier calls. The least she could do was be available, considering the oath she’d made him swear.
His skin tingled with foreboding as he noted the unidentified caller on the ID. “Hello?”
“I think I found it!”
It had been months since he’d heard his sister’s voice, and it bubbled with barely contained excitement. The roar of traffic in the background nearly drowned out her words.
“Chelle?” No, “Hey bro! How are ya?” Or, “Hey, long time no talk. What’s new?” “Where are you? What did you find? What in the hell is going on?”
Her excitement bordered on mania as uncontrolled laughter answered him. “I’m in Crescent City. Up by the California/Oregon border. I’ve been hiking, digging, talking to the locals all up and down the coast, and I finally have a lead on the chest! Set’s chest, Ronan! Do you know what this means?”
Good gods. He was pretty sure that Chelle was actually the love child of Indiana Jones and Lara Croft. Her passion for the lost relics of vampire lore was rivaled only by her addiction to caramel macchiatos.
“Chelle, listen. A lot has changed since you left.” He’d lost his soul for starters.… “Who are you working for? These relics, they have to be turned over to Mikhail. To me, at least. I need to tell you something about—”
Chelle’s breath came in quick pants and her voice bounced as though she’d taken off at a sprint as she cut him off. “Ronan, there’s no time for small talk! I’m in deep shit. Get your ass up here and—”
She let out a grunt and the sound of a scuffle rose above the din of traffic on the other end of the line. “Chelle?” Ronan clutched the phone tighter to his ear. “Chelle?” he shouted into the receiver. “Answer me, damn it.”