[Days. It had been days since I’d seen Vishous. My determination to see him again grew with every tick of the grandfather clock in my father’s library, finding myself increasingly annoyed by the constant interruptions of life in the Glymera. Something had the current Princeps agitated and as much as I would usually enjoy watching the prissy male rail impotently at meetings, I had larger concerns. About six and a half feet worth of concern, to be precise. I licked my lips and ran my tongue over a tiny fang as I paced the long hall of the estate house, thoughts briefly lost to how it would feel to take his vein while he took my body. Shivering at the thought, I rounded the corner and hurried down the stairs, the hour on my diamond crusted Harry Winston telling me it was nearing my appointment time with Havers. I’d come to loathe this particular farce but it seemed a necessary evil to keep up appearances with the rest of the aristocracy who seemed to absolve themselves of their generous financial positions by participating in various goodwill acts for the race. I rolled my eyes at that. What it truly was, behind the façade of benevolent good intention was a self-imposed penance when they had a twinge of guilt over being rich. My father had believed in similar flagellant rituals and I’d been expected to maintain them even after his death in the form of benefactor, offering regular monetary contributions and visits to the race’s clinic. Wasted money and time, in my thinking. The restrictions of life in Caldwell chaffed and I was already making enquiries to return to the Old Country as soon as the remainder of Donall’s estate was settled. Readjusting a pin in my chestnut coiffure, I curtly ordered the doggen to bring the car, my impatience worsening my already volatile temper. Striding across the foyer and out through the colonnade, I ducked into the waiting Mercedes, watching disinterestedly out the window as we drove to the clinic. I’d been back to the Trade Street bar since Vishous had returned me to my family home. Discreet inquiries made amongst the few females I’d known who’d admitted to having served the warrior in the past had proved fruitless. None had been called upon since he’d taken a shellan. A human shellan. Jodi, she was called. My fangs dropped reflexively, hissing at the very idea that a human would be worthy of a male such as the Bloodletter’s son. Those stories had traveled from the Old Country as my family line had, visceral tales of calculating cruelty and violent carnage so abhorrent that they were sometimes still used to scare young into their beds. In fact, they’d become prevalent again. Rumors of a rogue band from the Bloodletter’s training camp had come to Caldwell had abound adding fodder to the Princeps’ already dubious view of the newly ascended king’s rule. Wrath had barely had time to take the reins as ruler and now the Glymera was clutching their collective pearls at the implications of this new force to their fortunes and their way of life. Simpering fools. And Havers was one of them. My mirthless laugh faded as we arrived at the front entrance of the clinic, lavender eyes flaring at the sight of two towering figures in black leather lumbering through the front doors before me, carrying a third. All but scrambling from the back of the car, I hurried in after, as gracefully as my layers of skirting would allow. I stopped short as both in a sort of synchronized move, turned to sweep the gathering of patients within the bland waiting room. Piercing aqua eyes met mine for a moment and turned back to the desk. The other male paid me little mind, his face hidden behind a curtain of multicolored waves that spilled over his massive shoulders as he spoke urgently to the nurse, obviously trying to obtain care for the unconscious civilian male in his arms. Not Vishous. But clearly warriors. I informed the nurse at the desk of my arrival, milling as close to the males as I dared without attracting their attention. I managed only clips of the words, snapping to attention at one in particular I’d been longing to hear. “…ambushed in an alley off Trade. Vishous and Butch are on their way with one more…” I nearly purred. He was coming here. I started at a smooth voice behind me. “Mistress Ione. How good to see you.” Straightening my shoulders, I took Havers’ proffered hand, casting a last glance back at the warriors now stomping out through the lobby.] Indeed, Doctor. I am pleased to be of help, as always. I wonder if I couldn’t discuss with you some ideas I had for expanding your facilities. [I suppressed a laugh as his eyes lit up like those of a young at their first Apple Festival. “Expanding? Of course, I’d be delighted. Please, let’s discuss this in my office.” I gave him a blinding smile and let him lead me through the double doors and into the corridor behind.] There is much good yet to do here, I think, Dr. Havers. And it would much please me and my father’s memory if you would let me oversee it personally. [As he babbled about additional rooms, testing facilities and the latest innovations in lab equipment, I couldn’t help but offer a thanks to the Scribe Virgin for my good timing this eve. If the warriors came here, they would come back. In the meantime, I would gather what knowledge I could from Havers’ files on the brotherhood. I would find what I needed to make Vishous mine. I absently rubbed my thumb over the gold lighter hidden in my skirts. All I need do is wait.]
