Xavier (Vampires in America #14) - D. B. Reynolds Page 0,1

one of significance ever bothered, but our Sire felt the need to socialize with the common man . . . for reasons of his own,” he added in distaste. “The assassin, for that’s what he was, maneuvered close to Josep and detonated some sort of magical device. It killed Josep instantly, along with several other vampires. And a few humans,” he said offhandedly.

“Magic. Are you certain?”

“Oh, yes. There was another sorcerer in the crowd. You remember, the one who gained such favor with Josep when he restored Sakal’s magic.”

“Sakal?” he repeated and immediately wondered if the sorcerer was involved in this. He’d never forgiven Josep for making him Vampire. But that had been well over one hundred and fifty years ago. Had Sakal been plotting his revenge all this time? “Was Sakal at the reception that day?” he asked Dênis.

“No, he left two days prior for France, with Josep’s permission.”

“And where were you?”

Dênis chuckled. “I didn’t hire the assassin.”

“But you didn’t try to stop him, either, did you? Why did you not protect our Sire, as I would have?”

“You were always his favorite, Xavier. The one who had free access to the most beautiful women, the best horses and accommodations. Did you ever consider what it was like for the rest of us?”

“You let him die.”

“And now Spain is mine.”

“Do you believe you can hold it?” Xavier sneered. “Against me? There was a reason that Josep favored me.”

The other vampire’s expression hardened. “You’ll bow to me before the end. I might even make you kiss my feet.”

He snorted his opinion of that. “How many challengers have you killed so far?”

“More than I can remember. It’s amazing the weaklings who think they can hold power.”

Xavier stared at him lazily. “Yes, it is.”

Dênis growled, fangs bare. “Leave or challenge, you bastard.”

“I’m not the bastard here, Dênis,” he said. “Shall we do this in the courtyard? This building stinks of old blood.”

“Those refined senses of yours too delicate for a little blood?”

“Not as long as it’s yours.” An instant later the defensive shields he’d created from the power of his blood alone sizzled to life, as he deflected the spear of pure energy aimed at his chest. But it hadn’t come from Dênis. He swung his gaze to the right and caught a flash of blond hair. Sending a focused rope of his power to wrap about the fleeing vampire’s throat, he dragged the attacker back into sight.

The vampire emitted a high-pitched whine, struggling to grip the invisible rope around his neck, his eyes rolling white with terror as he silently begged Dênis for aid. Xavier could have told him no help would be coming. Dênis had never cared for those who looked to him for protection. Not even when the one seeking help had risked his life to help Dênis.

“It was a foolish move,” Xavier told the whining vampire. “Did Dênis tell you it would work? That your pitiful attack would be the distraction that gave him the kill? That you’d earn his favor and reward after he was made vampire lord?”

The pathetic vamp had pink tears running down his cheeks, when his gaze switched to Xavier, pleading for his life.

“Will you save him, Dênis? Please, proceed. I’ll wait.”

Dênis’s gaze filled with furious hatred for Xavier. Without so much as a glance, he flicked a hand at the begging vampire. A moment later the pleading vamp fell to the floor, blood soaking his shirt an instant before he collapsed into a greasy pile of skin and bone that betrayed his youth.

“And that,” Xavier said, pointing at what was left of a vampire who’d been loyal enough to risk his life for his master, “is why you will never be Lord of Spain.”

Dênis’s grin was a vicious baring of teeth. “No. That is why I will wade through your dust to the throne.” A crackling sword of flame shot from his hand as he moved with vampire speed, appearing so close that when he swung the blade, it would have taken Xavier’s head had he not snapped his shields up.

“You never did have a sense of honor,” Xavier said almost cheerfully as he formed his own blade, this one burning blue and gleaming like the finest carbon steel. “Don’t worry. You’ll be too dead to crawl.”

They fought blade to blade at first, fire against steel, heat against ice. Xavier could have taken his opponent in the first few minutes, but it had been a long ride to get there, and his muscles