For Blood Or Beast
Even in the pale light of the early morning, I could see the faint shimmer of blood-red eyes—unmistakably vampiric.
“Duke, stay in the car,” I ordered sharply, knowing he wasn’t in any shape to fight. I heard his mumbled protest, but didn’t take my eyes off the figure long enough to face him. The rest of my men flanked me immediately, weapons drawn and at the ready.
“Graeme Buchanan,” a familiar voice said and my jaw clenched. “Hello Zachary. If you wanted a rematch this badly you should have just asked.”
The vampire prince stepped closer, his movements unnaturally fluid. His youth was deceiving; despite looking no older than twenty, his power radiated like a storm waiting to break.
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