Page 109 of Blood Lovers

New blood.

New vampires.

New rules.

A dynasty.

There are but three of us here now.

Me, the true king of America.

Lucia, not a second-in-command—not even a substitute. More of a mistake, really. A vampire only in that she feeds on blood and nothing more.

And then there is my dear, dear Josep. Oh, how I wanted to leave him behind when I was exiled to this New Babylon.

But he told me a secret while I was looking in his eyes on that dark night. When I was chained to a wall in a prison cell at the bottom of the fortress, scions feeding on me like I was a rat. Halfbreeds licking me like I was a sweet from the shops in Salzburg.

And then the monster called Josep commanded them to scurry away so he could make his offer. I would be free, but in exile. Never, ever to set foot on any lands owned, or presumed owned, by my accusers.

It was not a good deal, but it was the only one I had. So, of course, I took it. And I took Josep too. They wanted to end him. He had lived longer than any monster has a right to. And he was a failure, his glory days long, long past.

So, of course, I took him. He was a slim chance at a new life, but slim was better than none.

I had no hope of ever turning America into anything worthwhile. Not even as the centuries passed and things started looking up. Because Josep was an absolute failure.

Until Zecharyet Wagner, adopted into some stupid little town in Ohio. One drop of blood at birth, right after the Black witch I was feeding off took his mother’s life and gave him to me.

Mine. He is mine. She gave him to me.

Black witches do not have boy babies. But there are ways to make it happen. Dark ways, vile ways, sinful ways.

He is an abomination. Pure evil in his veins. But only half.

The other half was Josep’s crowning glory. All that time I thought he was failing. But with each failure, he took a bit of this and a bit of that, and he used it to tease the perfect sire out of the Darkness.

Ryet’s father.

Everyone has one. You can’t get new babies without fathers.

And this one was spectacular.

Ryet is starting to lose consciousness.

“It’s all right, Ryet.” I soothe him as I rearrange us so I am sitting with my back against the tree and he is draped across my lap like a vampire in the midst of birth. He needs more blood. So much more. I dig a sharp claw into the side of my neck and open it up. Then I help him lift his head back up to take more blood and the moment his new, sharp fangs touch my skin, he knows what to do. He latches on like a babe on a tit, and he sucks me.

My head falls back in satisfaction.

I have waited for this. Patiently, I have waited.

But I knew it was going to work and I knew it would be worth it. I knew before I killed his family. I knew before I showed him my true self in that alley. I knew before I bit my lip and let him kiss the blood off me.

I knew we would succeed this time because we were doing something different with this particular scion.

We had another bloodline ready to go.

The bloodline of his feeder.

The creature that would take nurture my newborn partner and take him into maturity.