Chapter 15

The door opened and a bald guy wearing a pullover and sunglasses walked through. Tall, and broad shouldered, with a square jaw, he had the air of a repo man. Behind him was a kid of maybe fifteen or sixteen. He had long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, and was dressed in a costume that matched the house; ruffled shirt, brocade vest, and tight fitting trousers. Despite his fine features and his age, the air around him vibrated with something terrifying.

The blond sat in a chair behind the desk and crossed his legs, his eyes on his prisoner. Something glinted in their depths that made Patrick's blood run cold. He was sure he saw death shining in them.

My death.

Silence stretched while they stared at one another. Patrick waited for the mental crush he'd encountered with Jorick and Oren, but it didn't come. Maybe these guys weren't vampires? Maybe

"An intruder?" the young blond asked.

"Stephen found him roaming around the house." The bald guy grinned, flashing a pair of fangs.

Shit. They are. They're fucking vampires. Oh God! Oh fuck!

The blond tapped restless fingers on his leg. "And what, exactly, are you doing here?"

Patrick tried to speak, but couldn't get the words past the lump of terror in his throat.

"Troy, make him talk."

"Yes, ClaudiusMaster." The bald guy practically leapt forward and grabbed Patrick by the back of his neck. He hauled him up and shook him.

Patrick gave a low moan-like yell, and Claudius shouted, "Enough!"

Troy dropped him. With no hands to catch himself, Patrick slammed face first into the floor.

"What were you doing here?"

Patrick lifted his head and spit out a mouthful of blood. Oh God. "I-I was looking around."

"Why?"

Pain radiated out from his nose. Was it broken? He thought it was bleeding but he wasn't sure. Maybe it was only his mouth.

Fuck, and I just healed from the goddamn mess at the party.

"Troy, perhaps you need to be more persuasive."

Patrick shook his head violently. "No, no! I wasmymy brother" he broke off.

"Your brother?" Claudius looked interested. "Who is your brother?"

Patrick swallowed another mouthful of blood and tried not to gag. "M-Michael."

Claudius' green eyes glowed briefly. "Really? Michael has a brother?" He looked to his bald lackey. "Did you know?"

"Nope," Troy said quickly. "He never mentioned him."

Claudius continued, "You were here looking for your brother, Michael?"

"Y-yes."

Patrick felt the pressure of someone behind his eyes and saw Troy smirk. He'd caught the lie and would tell his master.

Only he didn't. He just said, "Should we kill him?"

Claudius leaned back in the chair and drummed his fingers on his leg. "No," he said slowly. "Not yet. Call Michael in here."

"Yes, Master." Troy bowed quickly and disappeared out the door. He was back a moment later, hauling Michael behind him. Michael stopped just inside the room. His panicked eyes went from Patrick to Claudius.

"Is this your brother?" Claudius demanded.

Michael met his eyes, terror meeting terror, then he looked away. "I don't know who he is."

Patrick choked and Claudius smiled; a horrifying fanged smile.

"In that case, you won't mind if I feed on him."

Patrick held back a scream as Troy moved toward him. Michael bolted for the door, but Claudius barked, "Stay."

Michael froze on the threshold, his face pale. He gripped the door frame with shaking hands. "I-I don't really need"

"I want you to watch," Claudius purred. He motioned to Patrick and Troy hauled him upright, setting him on his feet. With one hand, he tugged the leather jacket open and grabbed a fist full of Patrick's t-shirt. The material ripped noisily, revealing a swath of pale chest and stomach.

Claudius snapped his fingers. "I can't feed on him from here."

Troy dragged him closer and Patrick struggled. He was no match for the stronger vampire, who shoved him into Claudius' lap. Patrick froze, his eyes locked with Claudius'. Though he looked at least ten years younger than Patrick, the emerald depths screamed a story of ages come and gone. Patrick felt the full crush of the centuries and whimpered.

Claudius' lips drew back from his teeth, like a slow arousal, then he struck. Patrick screamed as fangs pierced his chest, right above his nipple. The pain faded, only to return with double the force. It burned, white hot.

The room wavered and he tried to concentrate on his brother. Michael stood back against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenched at his sides. Patrick was conscious of a voice screaming, "Michael!", but he wasn't sure if it was his or someone else's.

The pain increased and his head throbbed with it. He writhed, his every nerve on fire. He couldn't take any more! God kill me! Make it end! Please!

And then it stopped, like slamming into a brick wall. With the dwindling pain, his self-awareness returned. He laid limply across Claudius' lap, covered in sweat, the young vampire's mouth still locked onto him.

"Stop!" Michael repeated. He stood across the room, his fists shaking and his face twisted. "Justjust stop. Yes, he's my brother, all right?"

Claudius broke the connection and leaned up. Patrick caught a glimpse of the vampire's crimson smeared face and looked away.

That's my blood.

Claudius licked his lips. "Then what should we do with your brother? Should we kill him? Fire, perhaps? Or should I allow Troy to rip him to shreds?"

Troy scoffed. "And let him out of it so soon?" Claudius gave him a dirty look and Troy quickly back peddled. "You're the master, of course, and it's up to you. I thought he might be useful for something else."

"Such as?"

Troy shrugged. "You know how we're always shorthanded at the parties. We could use another servant."

Servant. Like Michael was. Oh God.

He struggled, and Claudius absently tightened his hold. Troy went on, "I could turn him or go get"

"No, then we'd have two of them here, making trouble. I don't want this one on equal terms."

Troy shrugged. "Then keep him human. We have some of those."

Claudius made a derisive noise. "We have enough. I'm not interested in feeding and caring for another."

"Okay then, kill him." Troy looked thoughtful. "Though doesn't that one guy have humans who take care of themselves? He just calls them in when he wants them? Was it Andrei? Or Armus? Or Archimedes? Ah. Never mind, that's a pain in the ass, and it's some old fashioned crap, anyway."

Claudius sneered. "It's not old fashioned. It wasn't in vogue until the 1700s." Troy looked sufficiently reprimanded and Claudius turned to study Patrick. "Perhaps." He trailed away. "But a human who lives by themselves must always remember who their master is. I wonder, could you remember? Or would you rather die?"