Blood Spirit (6 page)

That
it meant fighting every night the most powerful urge a vampire could feel was
the price he'd pay until he was in a position to enact much needed changes. On
more than one occasion, he'd almost given into his nature and sired.

"Marc,
it's gorgeous! I love it!" Emily cooed excitedly behind him.

It
would do for now.

Turning,
he scanned her from head to toe, liking what he saw in her even more than his
new and improved offices. Average in looks, she more than made up for it with a
body that could have only been made for pleasure. She knew it too and took
every chance to showcase her gifts in clothes that tantalized at every curve.
This night she'd chosen a red dress that hugged her body and left little to the
imagination.

Perfect
for a man who believed fantasies were simply plans meant to come to fruition.

"Come,
let me show you my private rooms back there."

Emily
took his hand and pressed up against him as she looked up for a kiss.
"Where do you want me?"

Her
question was punctuated with the brush of her hand to the front of his pants.
Already hard, he would have fucked her right there on one of the desks, but he
remembered he had an eleven o'clock he couldn't postpone.

The
christening-the-new-office fuck would have to wait. But that didn't mean they
couldn't have some fun beforehand.

"I
have someone coming in soon, Emily. You'll get the grand tour later."

Pouting,
she nodded through her disappointment. "Can I stay?"

Marc
lifted her chin with his finger and smiled as he ran his tongue over his fangs.
"Of course. I'm sure there's something we can do to keep you busy."

"So
tell me, Mr. Knull, what do you have for me?"

The
vampire who sat in front of him was one of the special group of hunters formed
to track down and kill the Sons of Navarus and all their vampires. He appeared
to Marc to be particularly suited to the task, if his massive hands were any
indication of a brutal nature. He had the look of a thug, but if that's what it
took to rid the world of the Sons and everyone associated with them, then he'd
deal with a thousand thugs.

"Another
Son has been eliminated, Mr. Verrater. I got him last night."

"Do
tell."

Knull
sat up straight in his chair and puffed out his chest. "I tracked this
Sampson to Spain and just as he was about to sire, I grabbed him. He was
easy."

"What
happened to..." Marc flinched in pain and looked down toward the brunette
head bobbing up and down in his lap. "Watch the teeth, dear."

Looking
back across the desk, he continued, "What did you do with the new
vampire?"

A
look of confusion came over Knull's face as his gaze rose to meet Marc's.
"New vampire?"

Marc
leaned back slightly, stretching his legs as Emily continued the task he'd
assigned her. "The new vampire, Knull. The one this Sampson had just sired
before you killed him."

"Oh.
He never finished, so I'm sure she just bought it a little while later."

"Mmmm..."
Marc grunted softly as he came in Emily's mouth, and closing his eyes for a
moment, he forgot the man in front of him was there at all.

"Would
it be better if I came back at a different time, sir?"

Knull's
voice cut short Marc's enjoyment, and he opened his eyes disappointed to see he
still remained on the other side of the desk. Patting Emily on the ass as she
rose to leave, he closed his pants and answered, "No. What were you
saying?"

"The
girl died, I'm sure, after I left, so we're good. Another Son down. That leaves
six by my count."

"Six
too many, Knull."

Marc's
thoughts went back to that night just a few months earlier when Declan Collins
had nearly drained every last drop of blood from his body before escaping. He'd
been forced to kill his guards to keep that secret safe.

If
anyone knew that Son still walked the Earth, he'd lose everything—the office,
the respect of his fellow Archons, the power. Whatever it took, his lie must
stay buried.

"It
should be five if that fucking Romanian had actually been the one to die that
night in London," Marc mumbled as he reached for the pitcher of water on
the corner of the desk.

"True,
sir, but that's just a matter of time," Knull bragged.

"Is
it? He's proven to be a slippery one. Jennings in London found that out. Where
did he end up? Oh yes. Nebraska. They should have just staked him and put the
poor bastard out of his misery."

Knull
let out a hearty laugh and repeated, "Nebraska."

"I
wonder how Phillips is finding the task."

Marc
smiled at the image of that irritating prig Phillips as he scrambled to figure
out how to even find the Romanian, much less off him. A typical Archon, the man
disgusted Marc after mere minutes in his presence with his pasty look and
prudish behavior.

The
truth was that his fellow Archons impressed him little. Dull and generally
dim-witted, they were poorly prepared to defeat vampires like the Sons of
Navarus were believed to be. They relied far too much on some arcane prophecy
they hadn't fully decoded and spent far too little time cultivating abilities
they'd let atrophy for millennia.

They
had been very much like the Sons all those centuries ago. Strong and cunning,
the first Archons had slyly begun to lay the foundation those of today would
capitalize on to fulfill the prophecy of their takeover. But all their work
would be for naught if they didn't shed their outdated beliefs and accept that
to defeat the Sons and eliminate the Order, they must be like those first
Archons instead of the sterile creatures they'd evolved into.

As
he considered the general impotence of his fellow Archons, he realized Knull
was still talking about the Romanian. "What did you say about his
vampires?"

"That
we've had some success. Heard more than twenty have been taken out."

Marc
shrugged at the number. Twenty out of hundreds was nothing. An army of hunters
would be needed to eliminate the vampires of the Romanian.

"And
what of their sire?"

Knull
shook his head. "Nothing yet, as far as I've heard. Thank God we don't
have to hunt down all the vampires of the Son you got, sir. You deserve all the
praise for getting the first of them."

Marc
downed what remained in his glass and poured himself more water. "Maybe I
should give Phillips some pointers. Help the old boy out."

As
Knull laughed, Marc gulped down a mouthful of water. Changing the conversation
was definitely in order.

"I
want to hear some progress on this Sampson's vampires and soon. We need to keep
the momentum going. Strike while the iron's hot."

"I
agree, but the fucker's been busy. He's got a lot. That's going to take some
time. What is it with these Sons and the siring? I mean, I've done my fair
share to keep our kind going, but these guys sire like rock stars."

Knull
wasn't exaggerating. Between the Romanian and Sampson, the hunters were looking
at hundreds, possibly thousands of vampires. Their history of being such
prolific sires had always left a bad taste in Marc's mouth. Of the few Sons
that had been discovered over the years, all had sired more than their fair
share. It smacked of ego that they believed so many of their race should be
under their control.

And
if Collins' vampires were added, the number to be killed grew even higher.
However, in that he himself helped the Archons. After having lived as a near
nomad for years, Declan Collins' attachment to his vampires was tenuous, at
best. As long as they remained disinterested in him as they had been so far,
that Son and his vampires would remain a non-issue.

"They
don't seem to understand the concept of everything in moderation, I'm afraid.
How many do we believe this Sampson had?"

Knull
shrugged. "We can't be sure yet. I think we're looking at hundreds, sir.
He was an old one. Byzantine times, I think."

Another
ancient one. Well, at least they'd been successful in getting rid of another
one of them, Marc thought with a real sense of satisfaction. The fewer ancients
that existed, the better, in his opinion. A young vampire not even a century
into this life, he saw little worth in the relics of an age more appropriately
forgotten.

"Byzantine?
You don't see too many of those, do you?" Marc mused.

"No,
you don't. Why is that?"

"I
don't know," Marc answered in disgust. "Do I look like a fucking
encyclopedia?"

The
idea of discussing some old history lesson with Knull irritated Marc, even if
he knew that the reason there were few vampires from the Byzantine Empire was
because of the success the emperors had in hunting vampires in their kingdom.
He was an Archon high enough in the ranks to have a suite of offices in Archon
main headquarters, not some vampire museum curator.

Waving
his hand, he ended the meeting. "I want this one to be as successful as my
first Son. The powers that be have entrusted Sampson and his vampires to me.
I'm counting on you and your men to do what needs to be done. Don't fuck this
up. Get rid of them. Quickly."

"Got
it. But what about Collins'? You still want us to leave them alone?"

"For
now. Those higher than me have something else in mind for them."

Knull
lumbered out of Marc's office, leaving the Archon pleased with the news,
overall. It would only be a matter of time before he could boast of not only
one but two Sons eliminated under his watch. And if he could show a good number
of Sampson's vampires gone while putting off his superiors as to Collins'
vampires, the road was paved for even better offices and more power even sooner
than he'd planned.

"Marc,
is it okay to come in now?"

Looking
up, he saw Emily standing in the doorway seductively fingering the buttons on
her dress.

"I
was hoping you could give me the grand tour now."

With
a crook of his finger, he bid her come sit on his lap. The grand tour could
wait.

Emily
did as he commanded and sat across his legs. Her lithe body pressed against
his, and she nuzzled his neck, purring like a kitten. "I love your new
offices. They're so much nicer than those old ones. And you finally have a
secretary worthy of a man of your stature."

He
couldn't disagree with that. Rochelle had been an example of efficiency, but
she'd always reminded him of a nosy old owl with bad hair. Marc shook his head
hoping to dispel the thought of her.

Mistaking
his movement for a repudiation of her talents, Emily said in a hurt voice,
"No?"

"What?"

In
his ear, she whispered, "You aren't happy with me as your secretary?"
as her hand slid down the front of his pants to palm his cock.

Marc
closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her stroking him. In truth, he had no
idea if she had any of the required skills necessary to be an effective
secretary. That's not why he gave her the job. He wasn't even sure she could
type.

Pulling
her hair, he jerked her head back and looked into her pretty face. "Very
happy."

The
desire to fuck her right there surged in him, but an even more potent need
pressed on him. His fangs dropped and he seized her neck, roughly piercing her
vein. Emily squealed her surprise but quickly returned to his cock.

Her
blood spilled into his mouth and excited him. She tasted innocent but something
nasty lay underneath. It made him reminisce for the taste of another who had
thrilled him far more.

Lena.

No.
Solenne.

The
memory of who she really was bit at him, and he growled against Emily's skin as
he pulled painfully on her vein.

Lena had tasted like no other vampire, like no other woman he'd ever encountered. Strong,
with a power he'd only found in men, her blood had made him neglect his duties
as an Archon just to have one more taste of her. And another. And then another.

He
knew he should have killed her when he learned who she was. He should have
killed her when he found out she was protecting Collins and working against
him.

He
couldn't. Something in her blood had created an addiction he couldn't break,
even if he'd wanted to. Only her absence had allowed him to break it.

As
Marc took all he desired from Emily, he couldn't help feel a sense of emptiness,
even as his body signaled he'd had enough. Nothing in her blood created that
desire to have more—that absolute need to taste her on his tongue again like
he'd experienced with Lena.

Sated,
the thought of the one he couldn't have stayed with him haunting the present
with memories of the past. Even as Emily stripped naked and began to ride his
cock, he thought only of Lena.

Was
this what love felt like he wondered as the woman straddling him moaned her
pleasure? His hands absentmindedly made their way to her hips to hold her in
place, but his mind was detached from what was occurring with his body, more
focused on one not there.

No,
this wasn't love. He'd never loved anyone, including Lena. No, what he felt for
her was obsession. It toyed with his focus, endangering everything he sought to
achieve. It consumed him like insanity does a madman, at times driving him to
want her more than anything else.

She
was like a drug he couldn't deny. More truthfully, her blood was the drug, and
he was no better than some junkie on the street.

As
Emily shuddered her orgasm, desperately clutching him to her, he closed the
holes in her neck.

"But
you didn't come," she whined in his ear. "Do you want me to finish
you off?"

Shaking
his head, he forced a smile onto his lips. "No. It's been a long night. Go
home and rest."

Emily
fondled the hair that rested on his shirt collar, pouting at his words. She
wouldn't argue with him. She knew better. Once had taught her the painful
consequences of arguing.