Purebreds and Power

Han seized Sera’s throat. Slowly, steadily, he squeezed. She stared at him, mouth ajar, unable to move. Her feet left the ground as his grip began to crush the bones in her neck. One twist and her head would roll. And this debate about his bride would be over.

Desire to destroy her, to destroy everything that stood in the way of his eternal happiness, coursed through his veins. His razor-sharp fangs reflected the lightning dancing in the sky–their honed points accentuated by the staccato of the accompanying rumble. His eyes turned as red as the blood they craved–beast and man fighting for control.

Just. One. Twist.

Sera’s death meant certain war. Her council supporters would demand retribution–Han’s head on a pike. The remaining council members would stand behind him, vying for newfound glory.

They all wanted something.

Money, power, fame.

Sickening.

With one final squeeze, Han released Sera, dropping her to the floor. She rubbed the sides of her throat. Her eyes stayed wide, her mouth shut.

“As per custom, you will leave this home, not to return until the day you exercise your rights.” Han stepped back, gesturing toward the door. “Is that understood?”

Sera scrambled to stand, tripping on her shoes. She remained slouching and never turned her back to Han. Still holding her neck, she nodded and backed from the room. When Sera stepped into the hallway, she ran. The front door slammed behind her.

Eerie silence blanketed the mansion. Only rolling thunder echoed through the halls.

Han plopped into the nearest armchair, dropping his head into his hands.

Unforseen hurdles.

He rubbed his forehead, puffed his cheeks, and exhaled.

Darkness shrouded the library, only interrupted by the occasional brilliance of electricity skittering across the sky. But no lights lit the halls. No fire warmed the hearth.

James.

Han tried the light switch, only to discover the lack of power, then built a fire. And the front door burst open.

“My liege,” James panted, both hands grasping his chest. Smeared with mud, shirt untucked, his person showed the struggle he had been through. “I could not keep her safe.” He fell to his knees and sobbed into his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Han strode to James and helped him stand. “You did what you could.” He pressed his hand to James’ back. “Tell me what happened.”

“I drove my lady home, as requested.” James stuttered a long, spiritless sigh and moved closer to the fire. “When we reached neutral land, a mob of our kind surrounded the car. A small army, if I’m honest.”

Han placed a reassuring hand on James’ shoulder. “Continue.”

“I didn’t recognize any of the men.” James closed his eyes and furrowed his brows. “They may have been new. Their strength seemed ungainly.”

Newly-turned vampires added another layer to Han’s conundrum. Rumors about private militia had circled for ages, but Han never imagined someone would be so reckless. The act of turning obligated the sire to a decade of watching their creation; each recently-created monster reacted differently to their new base instincts to feed on blood-filled flesh. That fact alone kept Han far from the practice. And few vampires had the strength to deal with the new acolytes.

“Brash.”

“My thoughts exactly, sir.” James stepped away from the warmth and turned to Han. “When they pulled Lilly from the car, I tried to stop them. I tried. I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry.”

Han guided James to the chair by the fire.

“Oh, no, my liege. I couldn’t.”

“Sit.” Han moved to the bar, filled a glass with water, and handed it to James. He stood in front of the widow, watching the flashes of light ignite the sky. “Continue, please.”

“They put her in a dark sedan. Then…” James squeezed his eyes shut and slumped his shoulders. “I was weak as a human. Before your father turned me.”

“Excuses.” Pivoting in place, Han glared at James. “A part of my father made you. That strength alone is immeasurable. You’ve never chosen to learn to use it. Happy with your station.” Han walked to James and stood over him. “You are stronger than you know. And more important than you think.”

James blinked. Then blinked again. A small smile graced his battered lips. “Yes, Sir.” With some effort, he pushed himself from the chair and stood before his lord and master. “I happily serve, my liege. Let me find out about some lights.”

Han gently rubbed James’ shoulder and nodded.

“By your leave.”

The corners of Han’s mouth turned up after James left the room. His insides stopped their incessant churning for the first time since he found out about Lilly’s capture. Then, Han realized why the feeling had been foreign.

Han was scared.

But now he found solace that James came away unscathed.

He knew Lilly would be uncomfortable but safe. She wasn’t in the presence of the changed ones–whoever took her realized the danger in that.

A warm, stinging sensation bloomed in Han’s chest. That person abducted Lilly, knowing her only as a favored slave. If the bastard knew her true place…

Han pounded the mantle, cracking off the edge.

The council would never allow Han to gain that much power. Even his ancient father did not have that claim. As a marked pair, his parents boasted a small increase in strength from their union. A fated pair secured even more.

Hans skills and abilities plus Lilly’s.

Like a pair of strong magnets finding their equal but opposite side.

The council never allowed exorbitant acquisitions without severe restraints. By Han’s age alone, his holdings bordered on obscene. It was no wonder Sera had been the choice of so many. She would dilute what Han had. Their child, if they could conceive, would need centuries to match Han’s strength.

Other council members supported Gideon’s plan of amalgamation, which would dilute Han’s bloodline and, by extension, Gideon’s.

Two ancients. One pairing.

Lights suddenly brightened the hall, and the house came alive once more.

The rain had stopped, and its remains dripped from the edges of the roof.

Han’s thoughts drifted to his beloved. She would be chained somewhere, and her captors would not go out of their way to hurt her. As a slave, she meant nothing.

She would be safe.

Han had to trust in that.

His plan still made sense.

And no time could be wasted.

Exiting the darkness, Han strode down the illuminated hall to the kitchen, where James started a kettle of water.

“Prepare my things. Tonight we travel.”

****

The sun had just woken, peaking from the edge of the horizon. Golds and blues painted the sky while birds chirped their greeting to the new day. James and Han traveled well through the night, seeking the first audience of two.

Han knew custom dictated a formal announcement for his unexpected arrival.

But he didn’t care.

The grand manor loomed large in the distance. Its modern architecture gave away its age, while the brick design harkened to an older time. As one of several homes within the territory, its owner had buried this one the deepest.

The crushed stone groaned under the weight of Han’s sedan as it settled in front of the house. With graceful ease, James opened the door, shielding the opening with a dark umbrella. Han stepped out, straightened his coat sleeves, and tugged at his cuff links.

Shoulders back and chin lifted, Han strode forward, each step more assured than the last–James at his side.

The front door opened before they breached the landing, providing a view through the house to the back patio.

The new brunette slave stood in silence, staring at the vampire before her. She quickly bowed her head and backed out of the way.

“Celia. I’ve told you not to open…” Chamberlain stepped from behind the door. “My lord. An unexpected visit.” Slick with sweat, he pulled his robe shut.”To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve come to check on what’s mine.”