Page 24 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)

Chapter Twelve

Leo

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting the unfamiliar bedroom in soft golden light. Leo lay motionless, staring at the ceiling as the past few days replayed in his mind.

From hunter to Claim.

And his family had abandoned him.

He grabbed a pillow and pressed it over his face, muffling a scream that felt torn from somewhere deep in his chest.

Their disappearance gnawed at him. The vampires had been clear—the Rothenburg clan had withdrawn completely from PDC. No sightings, no patrols, nothing. Just gone, as if they’d never existed.

The analytical part of his mind insisted this had to be a strategic move. The von Rothenburgs were meticulous planners. They wouldn’t simply abandon territory or family without purpose. Maybe they were regrouping, gathering reinforcements, planning a larger assault to retrieve him.

But the deeper, more painful question lingered: did he even want to be retrieved?

He’d never wanted the hunter’s life. Never felt the righteous zeal that drove his brother Friedrich, or the cold efficiency that made Uncle Stefan so effective. Leo had always been the reluctant Rothenburg, going through the motions, fulfilling expectations while his heart remained elsewhere.

And yet, they were family. The thought of them leaving him behind, regardless of their reasons, carved a hollow space in his chest that seemed to widen with every breath.

He tossed the pillow aside harder than necessary, watching it hit the wall with a satisfying thud. Maybe they truly had written him off as lost. Contaminated. A liability to be discarded rather than salvaged.

The word tasted bitter.

He hadn’t seen Adam since their tense conversation. No summons. No casual encounters in the halls. Just a silence that stretched between them like a chasm he wasn’t sure how to cross.

The absence left a weighted feeling in his chest that he refused to examine too closely.

He told himself it was relief. But if that were true, why did the quiet feel so loud?

He hadn’t gone to Adam’s room last night—though he’d found himself at the door more than once, fingers brushing the knob before retreating.

It was the principle, he told himself. He’d stayed in his suite, meals brought up while he channel-surfed and tried not to pout. Room service in a vampire mansion—somehow both absurd and luxurious.

His thoughts drifted to his writing, the half-finished manuscript still sitting on his laptop back at the compound. His readers would be expecting the next book in six months. At least his locked-room mysteries stood alone; no cliffhangers would remain unresolved. Small mercies.

He sighed into the pillow. He couldn’t hide in this room forever, no matter how comfortable the bed or how accommodating the staff. Eventually, he’d have to face Adam again. Confront this strange new reality he’d stumbled into.

With a resolve that felt brittle, Leo pushed himself up and headed for the shower.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in jeans and a simple button-down from the mysteriously well-stocked closet, he squared his shoulders and opened the door.

And nearly walked straight into Lander.

“Good morning,” Lander said, his tone carefully neutral. “I’ve been assigned as your... companion while Adam is away.”

Heat surged up Leo’s neck as his mind conjured an unhelpfully vivid memory—Lander kneeling between his thighs in the alcove, Adam’s voice a dark command: Kneel. And the way he’d spilled every secret in that haze of surrender.

“You mean my babysitter,” Leo managed, fighting to keep his composure.

Lander’s lips quirked slightly. “I prefer guide, but the semantics are yours to decide.”

Something about his candid delivery made Leo relax, just a fraction. He couldn’t fathom why Adam had chosen this vampire to shadow him, not after... everything.

“So where’s Adam?” he asked, trying for casual, as if he hadn’t spent hours actively avoiding the vampire who’d claimed him.

“Attending business matters in the city. He’ll return late this evening.” Lander gestured down the hall. “Breakfast? Or would you prefer to see more of the grounds first?”

Leo’s stomach growled in response. “Breakfast.”

They descended in companionable silence. Leo studied Lander from the corner of his eye. He moved with the same effortless grace as Adam, but it felt less overwhelming—more... approachable.

And yet whenever their eyes met, Leo felt a subtle pull. Not the gravitational force he experienced with Adam, but a faint echo—like a whisper to Adam’s shout. Still there. Still undeniable.

The kitchen staff served him a hearty breakfast that he devoured gratefully, realizing how little he’d eaten the day before. Lander sipped coffee across from him, maintaining a polite distance.

“I’d like to see the grounds today,” Leo said between bites. “Properly.”

Lander nodded. “Of course.”

They stepped outside into the late morning sunlight. Leo tilted his face up, savoring the warmth.

“The estate covers nearly ten acres,” Lander said as they walked. “The main house sits at the front, with gardens and woods behind it.”

They paused at the pool, shaded by a sophisticated pergola system. Sunlight filtered through slatted panels onto the water, the space gleaming in soft blue.

“Designed for daytime use,” Lander explained. “The shading allows vampires to enjoy the pool without the irritation caused by direct sun. Those who tolerate more exposure can swim comfortably.”

Beyond the pool, the gardens stretched in immaculate rows, blending formal design with an organic feel. Leo trailed a hand along a hedge, feeling the warmth of the leaves under his palm.

“The night garden,” Lander said, guiding him to a bed of white flowers and silver foliage. “Evening primrose, moonflower, night-blooming jasmine. During the full moon, it’s spectacular.”

Leo touched a pale blossom. “It’s beautiful.”

They continued, Lander pointing out features of the grounds while maintaining that same careful distance. At the paddock fence, Leo stopped to watch several horses grazing in the morning haze.

“Are those yours?”

“Not specifically. They belong to the Innsbrook community stables. About fifty head. Residents can arrange riding time, lessons. Adam rides frequently.”

Leo moved to duck under the fence, but Lander’s hand caught his arm. The touch sent a current up his spine, and from the quick withdrawal, Lander felt it too.

“The stables are beyond the security perimeter,” he said. “Another time.”

Leo nodded, disappointed but understanding.

“So I’m basically trapped here?” he asked, unable to keep the edge from his voice. “Can I leave at all?”

Lander hesitated. “It would be inadvisable for now. The situation with your family’s departure has... complicated things.”

Not a no, Leo noted. Just a carefully worded caution.

“What about the Court itself?” he asked, remembering the underground halls. “Can I see that?”

“Yes,” Lander said, almost relieved. “That would be fine.”

As they headed back to the house, Leo spotted Maja watching from an upstairs window. She didn’t bother to hide her scrutiny, her ice-blue gaze unblinking.

“She doesn’t like me,” Leo observed.

“Maja is...” Lander searched for the right phrasing. “Protective. Of Adam. Of the Court.”

“Because I’m a hunter.”

“Because you’re a complication.”

Leo didn’t respond as they reached the doors, her gaze still tracking them as they disappeared inside.

Lander led him to the grand entrance of the underground Court. As they stepped into the wide hall, Leo felt tension unwind from his shoulders despite himself. It was windowless, but clever lighting and warm colors kept the space from feeling oppressive.

“The Court was expanded in the 1970s,” Lander said, “though parts date back to the original foundations.”

They passed gathering spaces, lounges, and small alcoves where vampires and shifters conversed over drinks. Some paused to watch them, curiosity undisguised.

In a small café, the barista greeted Lander with casual familiarity.

“The usual?” she asked.

“Please. And coffee for Leo.”

As Leo studied the menu, he caught sight of a vampire stirring something crimson into a glass of bourbon.

“Is that—?”

“Blood,” Lander confirmed. “They blend it into almost anything. Some prefer it straight.”

“Like a vampire Starbucks,” Leo muttered.

Lander’s mouth twitched. “Something like that.”

They were halfway through their drinks when a tall vampire with copper hair approached.

“You’re the Rothenburg,” he said without preamble.

Leo lifted his chin. “I was.”

The vampire’s gaze sharpened. “Gabriel Mercier. I lost a cousin and his begotten to your family in 1987.”

Leo stilled.

Before he could answer, a woman nearby snorted. “Your cousin was draining college students dry in Nouveau Quartier. The hunters did us a favor.”

Gabriel’s jaw clenched. “Marguerite—”

“The Court voted unanimously to deny them sanctuary,” she continued. “Some lines shouldn’t be crossed.”

Leo glanced between them, understanding. “Your Court polices its own?”

“When necessary,” Lander confirmed. “Though we prefer to think of it as maintaining community standards.”

Gabriel’s lips pulled back, revealing the edge of a fang. “Community standards,” he echoed with barely concealed contempt. “Tell that to my cousin’s line. Three of his children, vampires he’d turned and guided, executed alongside him.”

His gaze locked onto Leo’s, coldly assessing. “They merely embraced what we truly are, Rothenburg. Predators. Superior. They understood humans for what they are: sustenance, not equals.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper meant for Leo alone. “Claiming or no claiming, some debts don’t disappear because Adam found you... useful. The Court may follow Adam’s progressive ideas, but we don’t all share his peculiar fondness for human sensibilities.”

Lander cleared his throat, a subtle warning. “Gabriel.”