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Another long moment drifted past. She waited. He hesitated.

As Serge had long ago prophesied, she was the key that unlocked his full power. But this required a taste of his blood to forge a bond beyond mere telepathy. Only then could she see the dark web and guide him to the minds of blood-drinkers not yet sired to him. It was how they had found Aubrey and so many others. It was how she now wanted to help him find Isao.

What about the child?Dominique wondered. Nothing would ever be more important than that.

She’s part of you and will be fine. I know she will.

He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at her. “She?”

“I have a feeling,” she said, smiling. The green tendril in her aura drifted around her neck, as though examining the place where his teeth had been. When he traced its path across her skin, it followed his fingertip, trailing a sparkling luminescent shimmer up the side of her face and down her freckled nose. Cassidy’s smile grew into a grin. “See?”

“I like your feelings,chérie.”

She brushed the hair out of his face and stroked her thumb over his lower lip. “Let me help you.”

For several more seconds, he watched the green wisp coil between them. Then he ran his tongue over one sharp canine. Blood pooled in his mouth when he kissed her again, letting her take it from him. She stifled a powerful gasp and gripped his shoulders hard, pulling him close. The hum of thousands of blood-drinker minds intensified as he saw the dark web through her heart. The ghosts came into focus, a few of them nearby. It was the brightest and oldest among these that he reached for.

Isao.

The other blood-drinker’s shock reverberated through their joint mind. In a condo high up a building, only a few blocks away, Isao sprang up from his meditations with a fierce shout and snatched up two lethally sharp samurai swords not unlike Dominique’s own. He crouched low, holding the blades pointed in two different directions, and growled.

Cassidy laughed out loud, and Dominique chuckled. He could not have found a more fitting ally.

Put those away,he told his new friend. You won’t need them to speak with me.

25

Isao Kiyomori

Forameetingplace,Isao selected Vancouver’s Stanley Park, a vast, gently tamed temperate rain forest that formed the calm nucleus of the vibrant city. During the day, it bustled with tourists and locals alike. At this hour, before midnight and doused in a cold, soft rain, vagrants and vampires took their place.

Dominique covered the distance between the park and hotel on foot. As he reached the first interior trails, his phone sounded a polite beep from his back pocket. He paused long enough to see who it was, and on seeing Garrett Striker’s name, paused some more. Garrett never contacted him if there wasn’t a legitimate emergency brewing, but he was confined to a hospital and unlikely to need anything that his nephew couldn’t provide. Dominique swiped to ignore.

Shielding himself from all eyes and ears, he continued to speed along, following the helpful signs to a large clearing near the far end of the park, a picnic area judging by the amenities. The field was empty except for a single figure in the corner farthest from the road. The blood-drinker aura was a beacon in the mist, inviting all comers—who would be greeted by the long, slender swords he held at the ready. Three others loitered in the surrounding woods. Their auras shimmered far enough away to act as a warning, but not a threat. The Lord of Night tried not to take offense. Isao didn’t survive this long against powerful, vengeful vampires like Esteban and Adilla without constant vigilance.

Dominique stopped at the tree line and allowed himself to be seen—just when his phone chirped. Alerted by the sound, Isao spun in his direction only to see Dominique vanish once more when he recast the illusion and pulled out the offending device.

Need to see you. Urgent, read the text message. Garrett.

“Merde.” Now what? No matter. This would have to wait.

Dominique silenced the phone and approached Isao. With lightning swiftness, he relieved him of the two swords before allowing himself to become visible again. “I told you. You won’t need these.”

Isao staggered back several steps, but to his credit, did not protest or capitulate. He stared at Dominique, his hands empty.

Dominique tested the weapons, a longkatanaand shorterwakizashi.They were of exquisite workmanship, their balance in his hands flawless. Ivory art adorned the hilts, and the steel blades themselves were honed to edges so fine, those they struck down would never feel them. He took a few steps back, then worked the swords, letting them fly around his wrists, between his hands, and behind his back with millimeter precision. The cold steel hummed a song of violence and, he thought, honor.

Isao’s expression was carefully blank, though his natural woody scent betrayed more than a hint of apprehension.

Dominique handed back the swords, hilt first. “Magnifique.”

Isao made a small, stiff bow and returned the weapons to the scabbards strapped to his waist beneath his trench coat. Dominique had made his point. Between his ability to vanish and his skill at wielding the swords, he could have cut Isao down with ease before he even knew what was happening.

“Are these from the age of your birth?”

“Thirteenth-century Japan,” Isao replied brusquely. “A glorious age for the samurai.”

“You are…a samurai?” Dominique couldn’t hide his awe.