Page 24 of Caller of Crows
His lips curled in displeasure.
"You're thinking of our newcomer, aren't you?" Keegan asked.
Altair shot his friend a look that would have silenced any other vampire in the coven, but sadly Keegan was immune to his glare.
Altair set his glass down on the table. "What if I am?"
Keegan leaned forward, his expression serious. "I heard that you took him back to your chambers last night. He's still there, isn't he?"
Altair's eyes narrowed at Keegan's words. He didn't like how Keegan was prying into his affairs. "I took him to my chambers because he wasn't doing well. He's too valuable to us for me to surrender his care to someone else."
"Is he doing better now?" Keegan asked.
Altair nodded. Sven had looked better after he woke up and Altair had left instructions for him to be fed properly throughout his time here. "We'll have to be more careful about how much blood we take from him."
"I know I told you to give him a nicer room," Keegan said, "but I didn't mean for you to share your own room."
Mordyn grinned. "I think it's sweet," he said, dropping his voice to a hush. "Altair has a soft spot for mortals."
Altair scowled at Mordyn. "I don't have a soft spot for mortals."
Mordyn's smile never faltered. "It's all cool. Now I see why you're not interested in the incubi. You've already got someone warming your bed."
"No one's warming my bed," Altair dismissed Mordyn's claim. "And you'd do well to remember who you're talking to."
"So you're going to relocate him?" Keegan asked.
There was something pushy about the way he talked that Altair did not appreciate. "That's for me to decide," he reminded the other vampire. "People will be looking for him soon. No other room in the coven is as shielded as mine."
"That is true," Iskander acknowledged, and Altair felt grateful that at least one of his friends had some brain cells left. Iskander never spoke much, but at least he didn't waste the words he did speak on pointless banter. "We need to be careful about who learns about this. Have you found someone to sell his blood to?"
"We can't sell it in the city." Altair leaned in so he could speak quietly. "Not even on the black market. The risk would be too great."
"What about the covens in Belfar?" Mordyn suggested. "They'll buy anything without question as long as the taste is right."
Internally, Altair winced at the mention of Belfar, but he didn't make his displeasure known. "I'll trust you to talk to them. Tomorrow night. The faster we get this dealt with the better."
As Altair spoke, his mind was already planning his next move. He knew he had to be careful with the mortal. Sven was a valuable asset to their coven, but he was also a liability. If the wrong person found out about him, they could use him as leverage against them. Altair couldn't let that happen.
He finished his synth blood and stood up from the table.
"Business, right," Mordyn said with a smirk. "Don't keep your pet waiting too long, great leader of mine."
Altair ignored the jibe and strode out of the room.
Contrary to what Mordyn believed, he did not hurry straight back to his chambers.
Instead, he made his way to his office, where he closed the door behind him and locked it. As much as he hated doing paperwork, at least his fellow vampires hated it just as much. He wasn't likely to be disturbed as long as he was in here, even if all he did was sit at his desk and focus his mind's eye on what his crows were seeing.
Particularly, he focused on what the crow in his bedroom was seeing.
He wasn't going to go back to his room before the mortal was asleep.
ChapterNine
Altair hovered in the doorway, his gaze tracing the lines of Sven's sleeping form.
Chestnut hair spilled across the pillow, brown lashes fanned over pale cheeks. With his smart mouth closed, Sven looked deceptively innocent.
Table of Contents
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