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He went over to the bed and sat down on the edge. It was incredibly comfortable. He leaned all the way back on it and spread his arms wide. The blankets were soft and silky underneath his hands. The wood-beamed ceiling above him was interesting to look at, drawing his eye along the wood’s grain. He could have just shut his eyes and fallen asleep then. But there was a parade that night. He couldn’t miss seeing Ryder in a parade. He grinned and sat up.

He went over to the desk and saw that the stapled paper had tonight and tomorrow’s events. Tonight was the parade. Tomorrow there was a welcome breakfast and orientation. He took the watch out of its case. The face had a blue metallic sheen and a solid, leather strap. He put it on his wrist. It felt cool against his skin. It appeared to already be set to the appropriate time, which was 4 in the afternoon. He was definitely going to have some sleeping issues.

He heard the thump of a door and a loud female voice lifted in greeting. He turned around.

Must be the owner of the pool table. Would a Sect member be this bold? Let’s find out.

He raked his fingers through his hair and strode out of his room and back down the hallway. Eiji stood with his hands crossed at the wrists behind his back. Amara was blinking again from her seat at the kitchen island. They were both looking at a woman who had short, bright red hair with black tips, green snapping eyes and freckles all over her engaging--if not pretty-face. She was snapping gum and smiling. When she saw him, she hopped down from her perch on the back of the couch.

She grinned at him and with a broad Irish accent said, “Ach, so here’s the celebrity!”

“Celebrity?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Come in with a Weryn by your side, though they claim to be sitting this school year out. Then you have Prince Julian and the Speaker to the Dead Christian hanging about you like old friends.” She ticked these things off on her fingers. “So what’s your story, mate?” Her grin grew bigger. “For I bet it’s a big one.”

IMMORTAL

Does your blood run pure, Grayson?

Ryder’s hands curled tighter around the balcony’s stone railing.

How will I know unless I taste it?

The echo of Lawson’s voice from the vision that Daemon had given him rocketed around in Ryder’s head. Well, the first statement was from the vision, but the second was his own imagination. But it was what Lawson would say.

Would your feelings for Grayson not be enough to keep Lawson under control?

Ryder’s tongue clove to the top of his mouth as all the saliva drained out of it, leaving it mummified at Daemon’s remembered question.

Would he not do this for you?

Fledglings did things for their Masters, not the other way around.

Surely, he wouldn’t harm who you care for no matter how new that caring!

Ryder drew in a deep breath and his eyelids flew open. The west interior courtyard of the Weryn lodgings swam into view. Tall trees with silver bark and leaves that were so dark green they were almost black stirred in a sweet wind. The sound they made reminded him of running his hands over silk.

You would have me hate him.

Would I? Or does part of you hate him already?

Ryder drew in another deep breath. He turned on his heel and headed into his room. Though he left the sky behind, the room’s high ceilings kept him from feeling claustrophobic. He strode to the single piece of furniture in the room. A table that could seat twenty, but held only one at the moment. But it was the only person--other than Grayson--that he had a mind to see.

“You need more blood.” Demos pushed the decanter and glass towards him. The dark red liquid sloshed and left a red haze in its wake. “It would be better fresh.”

“I have no time for amusements,” Ryder said as he poured himself another glass.

The thought of taking a warm body into his arms at that moment, of putting his lips against skin, of feeling a heartbeat swell under his tongue, of hearing moans of pleasure travel up his fangs were not what he could bear at the moment.

Does your blood run pure, Grayson?

Ryder swallowed down another glass of tepid blood the consistency of molasses. He grimaced.

How will I know unless I taste it?

“Oh, but you had time to walk Grayson to his rooms?” Demos’ left eyebrow rose. “And to take your sweet time in getting him there? You even went inside with all those students that we’re supposed to be ignoring. But there you were. A part of the party. Like we’re all some happy family.”

“He’s a link to the Sect of Dawn,” Ryder said as he stared down into the glass. It was stained red. The coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils, but he felt no hunger, no desire, nothing at all.