Page 13 of Claimed

“Come, brother,” Nix calls softly. “Dinner is served.”

I approach slowly, watching as the man struggles against Nix’s grip.

“Take him,” Nix urges, holding the terrified peasant out like an offering. “Feel his fear. His life. Take it.”

The man’s eyes meet mine. For a moment, I see myself reflected in his wide, pleading pupils. I look the same as I always did. Except I am not the same. Everything is different now.

A woman’s voice calls from inside. “Who’s there?”

Nix raises an eyebrow at me. I have to step up. I have to take control. I was weak as a human. I cannot be weak as a vampire, too.

Something shifts inside me then.

The hunger that was sated with the merchant roars back to life and, before I can question myself, I lunge forward and sink my fangs into the man’s throat.

Blood floods my mouth, hotter and richer than the merchant’s.

The cottage door swings open fully, and the woman screams. Nix is on her instantly. She keeps screaming as he feeds from her.

Side by side, we drink. When the man goes limp in my arms, I let his body fall to the ground.

I am panting. Overwhelmed with power.

I can feel the human part of me fading more now. It is clinging on. But it is fading. Inside, the other humans are scrambling to escape through the back of the cottage.

“Shall we?” Nix asks, gesturing to the cottage, his eyes now glowing red in the darkness, the woman’s body discarded at his feet.

I hesitate only briefly before nodding. Together, we enter the small dwelling.

When it is done, we stand amidst the carnage soaked in blood.

“How do you feel, brother?” Nix asks, his eyes wild.

I should feel horror. Disgust. Shame. Like I did with Elizabeth. Instead, I feel alive. And for the first time in my entire life, I feel strong. “Powerful,” I answer truthfully.

Darius appears in the doorway of the cottage. He walks with a stillness that makes me shiver. He looks human, and yet he doesn’t; there is a smoothness to him that reminds me of a porcelain doll. An unnatural agelessness to his features.

He puts a cold hand on my shoulder and then tweaks his index finger under my chin. For the first time, I see something close to approval in his eyes. “It seems I did not misjudge you, after all,” he says. Then he beckons Nix to us.

He takes my wrist and Nix’s, and holds our arms out in front of him.

“You are brothers,” he says. “You are my progeny. My children. My heirs. And you will rule this world together. I have seen it.” His eyes are glistening.

“In my time on this earth, I have seen too many brothers fight one another. Kill one another. Forget the loyalty they owe to their kin because a lust for power has taken them over and they wish it for themselves and themselves alone.”

He inhales deeply, then exposes his fangs, lowers his mouth to Nix’s wrist, and pierces the skin with a deep, sharp bite.

Nix groans a little.

Darius lifts his head, blood smeared on his lips. Then moves his fangs to my wrist and bites me too.

The sensation of being bitten sends a pulse of desire down my spine. Even though it is my maker who is biting me. When he stops, he takes my wrist and presses it to Nix’s. Then he steps back, muttering something in a language I do not understand.

The thrill of the hunt is still coursing through me. I can smell the same vibration in Nix’s blood as there is in mine. He looks down at our wrists, bleeding into one another. He leans in, and I present my neck for him to bite.

He drinks from me, hard and fast. Our fingers lace together and our wrists continue to pulse against one another. Then I drink from him.

Darius sits in a chair by the fireplace, rests his feet on the dead woman lying on the floor, and watches us.