Blood Domination (Page 38)

"We were told there would be only ash left behind," one of them said, sounding pleased.

"It’s true. Hepturna Kandith says the same thing, and he was on Orliff, where a similar strategy was employed."

"The authorities went looking for bodies, but there wasn’t anything," the third priest laughed softly. "I like that. No evidence to clean up." They turned to go. I walked in the opposite direction, turning to mist as soon as I was out of sight and spinning quickly to fly toward the temple, coming upon the three priests. They died quickly; only my claws materialized to cut their throats and then I made all three of them mist along with me. Plunging into the crater beneath a huge pile of dirt that had been packed in already, I dumped the bodies about halfway down and then shot skyward again, misting toward Gabron’s library. His washroom was my first order of business before I sought him out—my fingers and claws were still covered in blood, after all.

"I have heard that all the priests are being pulled in to the main temple since the massacre in Limrok," Gabron took my hand and kissed it when I found him.

"Do you know when they’re coming and how?" I asked.

"Most likely by river, it’s the easiest and least expensive way," Gabron said, leading me to the sofa in his library and convincing me to sit. I’d seen a few other vampires wandering around or reading, but figured that most of them were more than likely out in the caves somewhere.

"How are the others doing? Are they feeling their confinement, yet?"

"A little. But we vampires are a patient lot. Many of them are plotting revenge. If they get their claws into Solar Red, those priests will not last long."

"Gee, that’s too bad. The baby-killing torturers might get what’s coming to them," I said sarcastically. "Sick, sadistic f**kers."

"Lissa, at times I am shocked at the words you say, and I am quite old." Gabron was almost smiling.

"I feel old too, even though I’m not. At least by vampire standards."

"How old are you?" Gabron ran the tip of a finger gently around the edge of my ear. That wasn’t erotic or anything.

"Forty-nine."

"And how long have you been vampire?"

"Two years, almost." Gabron’s fingers stopped, and then resumed after a few seconds. "We keep our vampire children confined for six years," he said, leaning closer and blowing a cool breath against my neck.

"They do it for five, where I come from. As you can see, I’m a little different. Not that they don’t tell me what to do and where to go, most of the time. They sent me here to keep me out of a bunch of other trouble, I’m sure."

"What is this bunch of other trouble?" Gabron was nuzzling my neck, now. I tried to push him away. He just lifted my hand and kissed it.

"A pack of rabid vampires. I’m thinking that most of them might be Dark Elemaiya—isn’t that what you called them? The Head of the Council there thinks I’m susceptible to compulsion and I haven’t let him know otherwise."

"He thinks this? Lissa, if you were one of mine and withheld that information, I might consider punishing you."

"Been there, done that," I said. Gabron was back to nuzzling my neck. "Is there a picture of you next to the word persistent in the dictionary?" I asked.

"In the what?" He nipped my neck a little.

"Never mind. What kind of punishment do you hand out over stuff like that?"

"Confinement, mostly. Perhaps a few days with the manacles on. Mind you, we only activate them if there is an infraction."

"Uh-huh. Things are different where I come from." I misted away before he could sink his fangs in my neck.

* * *

Admiral Hafer and his assistant stood at the rental car center in Las Vegas. Someone had called earlier with the news that Anthony Hancock had never gotten onto the plane at Heathrow. Admiral Hafer could curse quite well and was doing so now. They’d wasted valuable time searching Las Vegas for Hancock. "Get me back to London!" he shouted as his assistant pulled out his cell to make some calls.

* * *

"You know I have no interest whatsoever in these so-called priests." The Ra’Ak Prince watched his subordinate pace before his desk. The desk itself was made of rare wood, inlaid with gold and gemstones. He’d taken it from Belifindus, after his subjects had devoured or turned the population. The Belifindans had become quite greedy and wasteful, eventually earning their planet the undesirable status of Not Worth Saving. The Saa Thalarr had not bothered with it and the Ra’Ak had taken it quickly. The Prince appreciated the spoils from that world. Most possessions were left to rot on the worlds taken; there was only so much space for wealth and riches, when the most coveted thing on the planets was the life that existed there. "I only allowed you to take these priests as a diversion—it is generally a good thing to unsettle the population before we take it. Panicked prey is always more amusing."

"I’m telling you there is something there that we should not disregard," the subordinate ceased his pacing to get his point across to the Ra’Ak Prince. "I cannot detect it and it is killing the priests easily. Fifty were killed in one night. Silently. Their prisoners were taken away, the locks still locked on their cells. This is no Saa Thalarr; I would have sensed it. That is why I do not believe they are there. I want others with me on the night of terror."

Both Ra’Ak held to their humanoid shapes—it was easier to communicate this way and the subordinate felt more comfortable. If the Prince took his serpent form, the subordinate’s life might be in danger. "How many are you requesting?" The Prince gave the subordinate a sly look. The subordinate had no way of telling whether this meant the Prince was considering his request or whether he was toying with him.

"At least three, since we don’t know what we are facing. The Refizani have allies; perhaps the Karathian Warlocks or the strongest Wizards have been called to assist. Neither would cause our senses to react."

"It would be worse if the Karathians were involved," the Prince appeared to be considering this. "Although if these are Grey House Wizards, it might also go badly. Very well," the Prince conceded. "I will allow you to take three with you. Mind you, I expect the children to be brought here for the feast afterward." Children were always devoured; they were never turned to Ra’Ak spawn. They were simply too small and the others would merely fall upon them and kill them.

The subordinate bowed gratefully to the Prince, departing immediately to select his three before the Prince had an opportunity to rethink his largesse.