Page 3 of Caller of Crows

"Take my deal," Sven whispered, heart pounding in his throat.

For a moment, Altair's eyes locked onto Sven's, an intense heat burning in his dark eyes. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he licked the warm blood from his lips.

"I'll take more than your deal, little mortal," he responded, his voice smooth as ice.

Once again, Sven braced himself for pain, for the sinking of fangs into his flesh. But instead, the birds above them began to caw louder, their cries like a discordant symphony. They circled overhead, filling the night sky until the moon vanished behind a veil of black feathers as if they were casting a spell over him and their lord.

Looking up, Sven couldn't help but stare in awe—until cold fingers touched his skin and stole his breath away. Darkness encroached upon his vision, swallowing everything until there was nothing left, and as his consciousness slipped away, the last thing Sven heard was the mocking call of a crow.

ChapterTwo

Sven woke to the sounds of hushed voices in the darkness. He kept his breathing even, feigning sleep while his senses came alive. The bed beneath him was soft, the sheets silken against his bare skin.

Bare skin.

An icy sensation trailed down his chest, and it took all his willpower not to flinch away. With a start, he realized three things: he was naked, chained to the bed by his wrists and ankles, and he was being examined by a vampire he did not know.

It wasn't Altair because his voice sounded different when he spoke. Brighter, somehow. "He seems to be in good health," the vampire said. "Though he could stand to gain a couple of pounds. He's a little low on iron too. We'll have to give him supplements before we take his blood."

Take his blood.

Sven's heart pounded, though he fought to control it. They would hear. They would know he was awake.

"His heart rate is increasing," the unfamiliar voice said.

It was Altair's smooth voice that replied. "He's having a dream, that's all."

"Possibly," the other vampire agreed. Though he did not sound convinced, he didn't sound like he wanted to argue with his boss either. "How did you find him?" he asked instead.

"He delivered himself to us," Altair said. "How could I refuse such a gift?"

"At just the right time too," the other vampire mused. "We can make a fortune with real mortal blood. Everyone's sick of the synthetic shit."

"Indeed." Altair's voice drew closer.

"He's handsome too," the other vampire said, running a finger down Sven's side in a way that made Sven want to recoil. "A lucky catch. A good meal always tastes better when it comes in a pretty package."

"That's enough," Altair said, and Sven swore he could feel the temperature in the room drop as the doctor stopped touching him at Altair's command. "Leave us."

The other vampire hesitated for only a moment. "As you wish," he said then. Footsteps retreated, a door whispering open and shut.

Altair's hand brushed Sven's cheek, then traced lower down his neck to his chest, coming to rest above his pounding heart. "You can stop pretending to be asleep now. I know you're awake."

Sven opened his eyes to find Altair gazing down at him, dark eyes gleaming. His inky black hair was loose, a single crow's feather tucked behind one ear, though there were no birds around him now.

"They don't like to be locked up down here," he said as if reading Sven's thoughts.

Wait, could he do that?

Altair's lips curled. "You're practically shouting your thoughts at me."

Sven swallowed hard. He hated that this vampire seemed to know everything while he himself knew nothing.

"Can every vampire read thoughts?"

Altair shook his head.

"And you can't read every thought," Sven added, regaining some confidence. "You had no idea what I was going to do in the park."