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“I suppose you two think I need to work with Eudora, too?”
They share a look. “I don’t think you have a choice,” Topher answers for the two of them. “None of us have any experience with someone like Eudora. Hell, she’s a goddess. I thought they were the things of movies and fantasy books.”
“Did you even read my thesis?” Amelia asks her husband.
He stands, ignoring her question. “We’re in the city for reasons besides Eudora.”
“What’s going on?” Thorne asks.
Connor stands, turning on a television hung high on the wall. A young reporter is standing in front of what looks like a brick home in the suburbs of Anytown, America. Yellow caution tape surrounds the perimeter as police swarm in and out of the house.
“Police say the bodies were placed in what appears to be a ritualistic circle and completely drained of blood,”the reporter announces.
“Vampires?” I ask the crowd.
“Sounds that way,” Micah, the future Alpha of Charleston and Connor’s son, answers, joining the conversation for the first time.
“Out of the twenty students at the party, five are missing from the premises, while the rest were found deceased,”the reporter continues.
“Students?” Thorne asks.
“A college frat party,” Amelia answers.
“Feeders?” I ask the crowd.
“Most likely. Does anyone think Kragen had anything to do with this?” Thorne asks.
“Common sense says yes, but my spies say he’s still in the swamps of south Louisiana,” Topher answers.
I look around the room. “Is there a vampire capable of doing something like this, other than Kragen, that’s in the area?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Connor answers. “Not unless someone is passing through with a horde of monsters.”
“I believe I can help with that,” a deep voice answers as the door opens. The vampire energy flowing from him instantly fills the room.
“Thank you for coming, Elijah.” Connor moves toward the stranger, greeting the man with a handshake.
“I would like to say it was my pleasure, but we both know that isn’t true.” His accent holds the typical South Carolina drawl mixed with something I don’t recognize.His ebony skin is the perfect accent to his amber-colored eyes. High cheekbones accentuate his angular face, giving him a mysterious, otherworldly look. He looks around the room, fixing his eyes on Thorne and me. “Who are you?”
“Captain Hawthorne Rex.” Thorne moves in front of the man, holding his hand out.
“Elijah Montclair,” the man responds, shaking his hand. “Since I don’t recognize you, I’m assuming you’re friends of Connor’s.”
“They are,” Connor answers for us.
Elijah turns toward me. “And who is this lovely lady?”
“Elsbeth Abernathy.” He lifts my hand, bringing it to his lips, and kissing gently. His motions surprisingly bring chills to my skin.
“Elsbeth. What a lovely name.” His eyes linger on mine longer than necessary.
Thorne moves protectively to my side. “Do you know anything about the murders?” He nods toward the television.
“I don’t. I’m assuming that’s why I was asked to join this,”—Elijah looks around the room—“meeting.”
“It is,” Connor answers. “As the elder vampire in Charleston, I thought you might be privy to information that I am not.”
“You think this was done by vampires?” Elijah points at the television behind him.
