Page 10 of Threads of Crimson

“No, his first name was Mordie. I don’t even remember what his last name was, do you?” he looked to me.

I shook my head. “If I remembered every irrelevant detail, I’d go mad.”

Ronan rolled his eyes, looking back to his boss. “So how’d he end up Mr. Moreaux?”

“He thought it made him sound more distinguished.”

“You can’t blame the guy for trying,” I said softly, flashes of some of my own torturous years as a fledgling trying to surface. “You see, his turning was some asshole’s idea of a prank.”

Damien and I exchanged a look.

“What?” Ronan demanded.

“Long story short, Mordie’s wife was cheating on him with a vampire, and when they got caught, instead of fleeing with speed or erasing his memory, the vampire changed him. Thought it would be fun to make the husband of his mistress have to call him Master.”

Ronan’s face scrunched up like he’d sucked on a lemon.

“Exactly,” I said, pointing at his expression. “Despicable behavior, and because of it, his own Sire put him down. Which then left him with Mordie.”

Picking up my story, Damien continued, “Instead of sparing him and giving him an easy second death, he decided to allow him a continued existence, but you know how we are.”

Ronan nodded. Along with our vampiric rebirth and the new abilities it gave us, came beauty. When one of our kind was unattractive, it generally meant that their essence itself, their soul if you will, was dark. Black beyond repair.

Except in the case of someone like Mordie, who’d been turned older, after his body had naturally already started breaking down on him.

Had he been allowed to live a normal human life, he’d have died within a handful of years based on how…ineffective his turning was on his natural appearance. It made this existence hard for him. Was it terrible that we were such a vain group? Yes. Was that likely to change anytime soon? No.

“He’s been up to behavior that I’m…concerned with,” I said. “I’d like to have a chat with him.”

Damien frowned. “We’ve heard chatter, too. Ronan will be issuing a warning the next time he’s in. You know I take the safety of our donors seriously.”

I inclined my head.

Ronan grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and stared down at me. “Why are you so worried about him?”

Standing, I said, “That’s my business.” Passing him, I made my way to the door and then turned. “Do me a favor. The next time he’s in, let him know I’d like to have a word with him.”

Damien stood up. “Lysandro, I can’t have others worried about you giving them their second death here.”

“I don’t think it’ll come to that.” I flashed my fangs. “I think I can right his wrongs with nothing more than a chat. If that ends up not being the case, no one will ever know.”

Chapter

Three

BENJI

“You’re a mess,” Rafe teased as I checked my phone for the millionth time for a text from Sadie. She’d positioned herself outside, chatting up the doorman so she’d be able to give me a heads-up when Lysandro arrived.

“Are you sure I look okay?” I asked Rafe—again.

He snickered, walking away from me to serve another patron a drink. It was a busier Saturday night here at Velvet Vein, which worried me a little bit. If I’d tracked him correctly—and I knew I had—it was time for Lysandro to feed. The number of human donors milling around, hoping to be a snack concerned me. He could have his pick, but I was determined to be his chosen one.

My screen lit up with Sadie’s text confirming Lysandro’s arrival, and my heartbeat spiked. It was true, most people avoided Lysandro. The way he carried himself was unnerving, even for a vampire. But there were others who were attracted to the cool power the predator exuded, so he tended to have a willing victim at his side within minutes of sitting at his table. No one was beating me to that coveted spot tonight.

I felt him before I saw him gliding down the walkway, so I jumped up and followed closely behind. As if sensing someone, his shoulders stiffened for an instant. “Benji,” he said just loud enough for me to hear as he kept walking. My dick twitched in my pants hearing my name on his lips again.

Feeling tongue-tied, I waited until he sat in his customary seat with his back to the wall where he could survey the room at large before dropping down in the chair next to him.