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William’s expression of rapt interest dissolved into churlish reluctance. “What of my payment?”

Clayton rolled his eyes and withdrew a jeweled snuffbox from his breast pocket. The cloying stench of opium wafted out when he opened it. William licked his lips with longing. “Not until you feed Lenore.”

“Why can’t I have it now?” William whined.

“Because the effects of the drug will go straight from your blood to hers…” Clayton paused. “On second thought, perhaps that is not such a bad idea. It should make her more docile.” He handed over the opium.

William seized his drug greedily and withdrew his pipe.

“Not in here, you fool. Go out to the rear garden. I cannot abide the stench.”

The vampire scurried past him in a rush to feed his foolish addiction. When he returned, Clayton bade William to follow him down to the cellar.

Jovial laughter and the clatter of dice accompanied a moan of pain and clinking chains. The three rogue vampires looked up at Clayton and scrambled from their seats, their game forgotten.

Hamish, the leader, regarded him with feral intensity. “Have you another assignment for us, m’lord?”

A hot flood of pleasure rushed through Clayton at the title. Soon every blood drinker in London would address him so. “Not yet, though it seems I will be able to make my move sooner than anticipated.”

“That’s good to hear. Me and m’boys are growing bored.”

Clayton raised a brow. “Tired of being on the run already?”

“No, m’lord. It is just that—”

“It appears you’ve found a way to occupy yourselves.” He gestured toward Lenore’s huddled form.

The captive female gazed at him with burning fury as she jerked her heavy iron chains. Her enraged screams were muffled by a thick, leather ball gag. Clayton watched her futile efforts with satisfaction. An older vampire may have had the strength to break the shackles, but not Lenore. He had selected her because she was so young and weak. She was likely Changed by someone who hadn’t waited at least a century.

From the sight of her torn dress and flecks of dried blood painting her thighs, it was apparent that the rogues had taken their pleasure of her. More blood caked her nose, which had been broken and healed crooked.

Clayton rounded on his new recruits. “You should take care not to handle her so roughly. This means I’ll have to feed her more.”

The three rogues looked at the floor in poorly shammed remorse. “Sorry, m’lord.”

He sighed. “You may go hunt now. However, take care not to be seen again.”

As the vampires departed, he motioned William forward and carefully removed Lenore’s gag, which snagged on her fangs. Immediately, she growled at him.

“Tsk-tsk, show some respect, girl.” Clayton wagged a scolding finger.

Lenore hissed, blood dripping down her fangs from her abraded gums. “You will not go unpunished for this, Clayton. Your mad scheme will fail and Lord Villar will destroy you.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. My plan is proceeding nicely.”

“You call this nice?” Her voice dripped with scorn. “You’re cracked!”

“I assure you, it is all for the greater good. You will see. When I am Lord of London—”

She shook her head. “I will never acknowledge you as Lord!”

Clayton leaned in close and spoke softly and dangerously. “I would think that over carefully, if I were you. If you have no intention of swearing fealty to me, then there is no sense in releasing you.”

Lenore froze at his words. For a moment he thought she would still contradict him, but then she clamped her mouth shut and glared mutinously.

“William will feed you now, and if you behave, I may just bring you a human later this week.”

Withdrawing his dagger, he sliced William’s wrist. Though she must be starving, Lenore averted her face as the vampire drew near.