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GRAHAM PRESSED THE hot rag to his face and hissed softly. After all the blood he’d taken from Eliza, he knew the gashes would heal before sunrise. But they still stung, and he was sure his face looked no better for it.
Harold, the butler who managed his home and harem, hadn’t left him alone since he’d returned from securing Eliza in Delph’s basement of horrors. And he was pretty sure if he stepped into the hallway outside his bedroom door, he’d find his entire household waiting to greet him.
“Perhaps Rachel can make some use of this,” Harold said, draping the mutilated leather coat over one arm. “A pair of nice gloves maybe.”
Graham nodded. “Lovely.”
“Would you like me to send her to purchase a replacement for you?”
“No, I’ll be out and about tonight, so I can pick up a new one then.”
“Is there anything else I can fetch for you, sir?” Harold asked. “I could have Tara draw you a hot bath.”
“Relax. You’ve done an excellent job taking care of the house while I’ve been away, and my arrival was unannounced,” Graham said, giving the man a tired smile. “There’s nothing that can’t wait until tonight.”
Harold bowed his head, even as he carried on. “Shall I send in a donor to tuck you in for the day?”
“No, no.” Graham waved his hand. “I’m quite fine. Sincerely.”
He loved his staff and appreciated all they did, but this dance with them was sometimes exhausting.
“As you wish, sir,” Harold said, a disappointed tenor seeping into his voice. “Please, don’t hesitate to call out should you need anything at all before sunrise.”
“Thank you. Tell the others I look forward to catching up with them all after sunset.”
Graham waited until Harold had closed the door behind him, and then he slouched on the corner of his bed. The familiar room was spotless, and not a single item was out of place. The copy of the Iliad he’d been reading lay open on the night table, turned to the exact page where he’d last left off. It was as if he’d been there only yesterday.
Graham’s moment of quiet reflection was cut short by the piercing ring of his cell phone. It was probably Dr. Delph, eager to continue his lecture. Or Selena, ready to lay into him. As the protectress supreme of Spero Heights, she would be even less thrilled than Delph about his latest acquisition. He had never been so ready for the sun to rise.
The phone rang again, and he decided it was time to invest in one of those fancy ringtone songs all the young supernaturals were carrying on about. Maybe something cheerful. Like polka. He checked the screen and sucked in a startled breath when he recognized the number.
“Your Grace,” he answered carefully. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Dante Lilosa, the Duke of House Lilith, sighed. “Perhaps I don’t get out enough. Has your night been so eventful that you’ve forgotten about the massacre you scorched and reported to my people?”
“I just didn’t expect a call from the duke himself. I’m honored.”
“Don’t patronize me, Pierce. I don’t have the patience for it this morning. There are a hundred and fifty well-done humans packed in the morgue of the St. Louis field office, and one unidentifiable set of vampire remains. I haven’t had my last feeding yet, and I’m in a foul mood.”
“Genocide isn’t exactly my cup of blood either,” Graham said. He was struggling to reel in his own rotten attitude. “How can I help?”
“For starters, I’d like to know who this vampling belonged to,” the duke replied.
“I wish I knew.”
“Your psychic saw him in a vision, did he not?”
Graham nodded to himself, trying to orchestrate a better lie. It was vital not to let on just how valuable Dr. Delph was. The royal family had a long and sordid history of taking anything or anyone they deemed an asset. Their vampiric subjects did not dare complain or resist.
“Dr. Delph saw a young man with brown hair in a jean jacket, attending a celebration—though the vision did not include the massacre itself.” That was true enough, at least. “We would have notified you much sooner if he had, of course.”
“Of course,” the duke echoed dryly, as if he wasn’t quite sure he believed Graham’s story.
“I overheard one of his former classmates refer to him as Walt. Paired with a class yearbook, that could help narrow the search.”
“It’s a start.”
“Good. I’m glad I could be of service.”
The conversation was familiar, but that didn’t comfort Graham. If he saw the pattern, he knew the duke would, too. He wasn’t so daring as to consider the royal a friend. But an ally? Perhaps.
The line they toed was a thin one, and the duke certainly had more leverage. But Graham had the advantage of age. Not many vampires had walked the earth for as long as he had, so not many of them knew just how old—and therefore, powerful—he truly was.
The duke’s caution made Graham suspect he’d done his homework, though he’d never outright asked him about his history. Neither seemed interested in an unnecessary pissing match. It was rather evolved and diplomatic of them, Graham thought.
“If you or your doctor think of anything else...” the duke finally said.
“I’ll call right away.”
They said their goodbyes, and as the call ended, Graham realized his hands were shaking. His body still thrummed with Eliza’s intoxicating blood. He touched the side of his face and found only a dusting of dry blood where the cuts had been.
His harem would be eager to feed him that evening, but Graham feared he wouldn’t be able to stomach more blood for a few days. Unless Selena ripped into him the way he suspected she might.
Rise already, Graham begged the sun.
He lay back on his bed and closed his eyes, wondering if Eliza was praying for some sliver of peace right now, too. They were both in for a long night, but for now, dawn could have them.