Josh sat at the bar, a beer in his hand. His twin sister, Addison, left for Castile last week with her fiancé, the father of all vampires, Master Vallore.
He never thought she’d become a vampire, let alone the Master’s mate. The thought of that guy holding his sister scared him.
Josh didn’t think she was vampire material. She couldn’t take lives and survive on blood for the rest of her life. There was no way. Not Addison. The thoughts consumed him, and he couldn’t push them out of his head. It made little sense.
He picked at the label on his bottle, the paper moist but refusing to come off clean. His eyes burned into the logo, his brow furled. They turned the television up, a few guys on the other side of the bar watching a game.
It was dead tonight, few people in the tavern. Josh had a rough day at the manor because Monroe, a master vampire hunter, was in town and it riled up all the Elite vampires.
He killed the green Elites because the new vamps didn’t have much experience in the field. Monroe was Master Vallore’s biggest adversary and the strongest hunter out there. Josh was glad his shift was over when it happened, and he didn’t run into him.
But still, it was a close call and rattled Josh. Monroe never invaded the Caron manor before because only a dumbass would run full bore into a vampire’s den. They waited until the stronger Elites were out of the house, though. Then, the vampire hunters snuck in and trashed the manor searching for something, but no one had a clue what.
Samson, the head of the Caron Elites, installed new security systems at the manor and it shouldn’t happen again. Still, the thought of Monroe around was unsettling.
His phone beeped, Josh pulling it out of his pocket. He read the message.
What are you doing?
It was Addison. Hearing from her lightened his spirits. He responded with sarcasm.
What are you doing? The Master?
No. He’s working. We’re in Hanton today and he’s been gone all day. I’ve been in the hotel watching movies and doing sketches for the Master.
Sketches for the Master? What kind of sketches?
Ones he asked for.
So, you haven’t gotten to Castile, yet?
He saw a few men walking toward him. They weren’t normal-looking guys. They were a gang of bodybuilders or vampire hunters. He guessed the latter.
Even though afraid, he pretended he wasn’t. He moved his phone closer to his face, absorbing himself in his conversation.
He typed a message back to her.
Maybe you’re not going.
A man sat next to Josh and addressed the bartender. “Buy him another one of those.” His Pargon accent was thick which showed he wasn’t from around here.
Fuck, now he had a problem. They didn’t go away.
Trying to act tough, Josh sized the man up with a stiff lip. The man wore glasses and a baseball cap over his messy blond hair, his cocky swagger showing he was trouble.
The other guys with him flanked the man, blocking Josh’s exit. That meant the blond was their leader.
Josh fired off a sarcastic reply. “Guys, I think you have the wrong idea, you’re not my type.” He tucked his phone into his pocket and snatched the fresh bottle of beer. He shook it as he sent the man a crooked grin. “Thanks for the beer, though.”
The blond slammed a plastic badge on the wooden surface of the bar. He tapped it. “Where is she?”
Josh gritted his teeth as he stared at the picture of his sister on the ID. It was the security badge she wore when she worked at the museum. Forcing air out his nostrils, Josh narrowed his eyes on her face.
He took a swig from his bottle and picked up the badge. Josh’s eyes ticked to the blond’s as Josh shoved the ID in the front pocket of his baggy cargo pants. “Leave her the fuck alone. She doesn’t play games with you guys.”