He had trouble remembering exactly what he’d dreamed with the exception of the woman’s face. And that bothered him more than he could say.
The only creature he knew who’d been interfering with his kin’s unconscious states was Morpheus, an annoying Greek god. Vampires didn’t venerate deities, and Khent had no problem destroying Morpheus if he could just remember to kill him while dreaming. Or if the coward would show himself while Khent was awake.
Now irritated, he moved quickly through the bazaar, not spotting anyone matching his necromancer. Yes,his.His prey.
He salivated at the thought of biting into her fragile neck.
Recalling the information he’d received about her possibly working at the Ribald Unicorn, he headed that way and hurried inside.
All noise ceased at his entrance.
Pleased at the delicious scent of fear wafting over the many patrons, he waved them away. “Back to your business,” he ordered.
Everyone gratefully looked away while the owner, a shapeshifting eagle, approached.
Talon wasn’t daunted in the least. He didn’t smell of fear either. How curious.
“Well, well. One of the Night Bloode. Welcome to our humble bar.”
Khent studied him. “You are the creature who poisoned Riley, my kin’s mate, are you not?”
Talon sighed. “She’s really holding onto that grudge, sending a vampire after me.”
Khent wanted to smile but didn’t. Instead, he gave the eagle a dismissive onceover. “No one sends me anywhere I don’t want to go.”
Just then, a serving woman started toward them. She spotted Talon first, a menu in hand, but froze when she saw Khent.
She was pretty for a human. Short, dark hair, bright eyes, a lithe figure. But she wasn’t the one he sought, so his interest immediately waned.
The female started forward, hesitant in her steps. “T-Talon? Where should we seat our important guest?”
Khent liked her deference.
Talon glanced at him. “Any preference?”
“Somewhere private will suffice.”
“This way.” The woman led them to a table in the back, away from the others. “Would you like some fresh blood, sir? We have lycan and sylph.”
“Sylph works.” After she left, Khent nodded at the shapeshifter. “Sit down.”
Talon sat. “What can we do for you? And which one are you, anyway? Not the nachzehrer. I know Kraft. Are you the strigoi or the revenant?”
“Are you trying to insult me?”
Talon didn’t look terrified at Khent’s frown. Instead, the bastard grinned. “Ah, must be the reaper. I’ve heard about you.”
“I’m sure.”
Talon laughed. “Cocky, super smart, super powerful. Checks out. So, Mr. Reaper, what can we help you with here at the Ribald Unicorn? I sense you’re after more than libation.”
“I’m after information. My name is Khentimentiu. You may call me Khent.”
“I’m honored.”
“As you should be.” Khent studied him, looking for any proof the shapeshifter was making fun of him. But though Talon didn’t seem afraid of him, he didn’t seem foolish enough to risk immediate death.
Before Khent could continue, the woman returned with two drinks.
