Onvyr studied them. “Hmm. He was a high captain. A soldier in the war against the light fae, I’d bet.” Instead of giving them back, Onvyr pierced his own ears right then and there.
Rolf appeared in a blink. “Oh, elf blood. Gimme some.”
Onvyr sighed, wiped some from his ears, and held his finger out. “A taste, Rolf. Don’t make me regret it.”
Before Rolf could definitely do something they’d all regret, Varu appeared behind Onvyr, his arms crossed over his chest. The powerful strigoi possessed the power to dominate them all. With the Bloode Stones that now existed as a part of him, no vampire could resist his will.
Rolf sighed and carefully took the blood from Onvyr’s finger with his own before sucking his digit clean. “You’re no fun since you mated Fara.” He glared. “The old Varu, the good one, would have let me bite right into Onvyr.”
“Apologies for trying to maintain order,” Varu said dryly.
“No apologies needed.” Onvyr smiled. “I’ve been doing my best not to try to kill you all. I don’t even get the urge all that much anymore. Well, except for you, Rolf. I still want to rip your head off.”
Rolf smiled. “Thanks, buddy.” He jumped when a giant battle cat brushed by him to sit between Khent and Onvyr, settling her large ass on the couch she wasn’t supposed to sit on.
“Seriously?” Rolf pointed at her. “You know you aren’t allowed on the furniture.”
Onvyr cocked his head then nodded. “Yeah, Hecate did say that.”
The cat showed her massive fangs.
“I know. It’s not fair that the smaller ones do it all the time.”
Onvyr communicated with all the beasts in residence. A rare gift for an elf of any kind, and one that might come in handy if they could trust Onvyr to behave himself away from the house.
Khent could only talk to the pets he’d reanimated, and often they communicated in images or sounds and scents.
Varu shook his head, a small smile at the corner of his lips. Fara, his mate, had softened the powerful strigoi. Khent hadn’tliked him much at the beginning. He still barely tolerated his kin, but he no longer chafed whenever Varu gave orders.
Not that he’d let the strigoi know that.
Varu nodded toward the mats. “Onvyr, go play with Rolf while I talk to Khent.”
The dark elf immediately threw himself at Rolf while the battle cat pounced as well, lending her weight and claws to the skirmish.
Rolf, idiot that he was, laughed and nearly lost an arm when the battle cat slashed again.
“Ignore them.” Varu sat and leaned his head back. Despite appearing ageless and all-powerful, he seemed tired.
And that was unacceptable in a patriarch.
“You’re weak,” Khent accused.
“Don’t you start. Fara is all over me to start easing up on my practice with the stones. But they don’t like to be silent, and the more I get to know them, the more control I’ll have over them when I get the sixth and final piece.”
“Do you really think you’ll be able to control the Bloode Empire?”
According to legend, Ambrogio, their First Father, had cried—or bled, as the legends had it both ways—for his beloved Selene. Those drops became the revered Bloode Stones. Whoever possessed them could control any and all vampires.
The problem was that no one had seen the stones for millennia. Hell, Khent hadn’t believed they existed until Hecate had created the Night Bloode Clan to find them.
He wondered just what Varu might do with the stones. Hecate wanted him to use them to help her battle a great Darkness. But the stones would have the potential to do so much more.
Since their inception, vampires had been forced to fight one another. Yet, under Varu’s control, they might join together. To fight the rest of the magir.
To take over the world.
“Get that smile off your face,” Varu growled. “I know what you’re thinking.”
