Bloodlust

Of all the nights Mira could’ve decided to not go straight home, it had to be on the one I wasn’t tailing her. The Count wanted a progress report on our investigation on the unauthorized Newborns and had sent one of his trusted emissaries. As it was my primary assignment, I could not easily delegate this meeting to Boris.

Grigore was as ancient as the Count. He also didn’t like the city or modern technology. What I could’ve relayed through a simple phone call had to be done in person. Thus, I had to drive to one of the royal houses on the outskirts of Baguio City. And although I made the almost 300KM drive in record time, I had to wait for Grigore to wake up at sundown.

Thankfully, he had his own plans for the evening and didn’t ask too many questions. He also assigned Darius, his most devoted assistant, to handle the communication between us from now on, which I appreciated. Darius was a forward-thinking man. He was also well-versed in the ways of the modern world. Unless there were matters that needed to be discussed with Grigore or the Count, I could now send my report through email. Grigore’s failing health made this trip very difficult, and he had no intention of repeating the ordeal soon.

It was already half past 2AM when I got back from my unplanned trip. This was a trying night for me, not only because of Grigore’s unexpected arrival, but mostly because it was exactly one week since Mira’s close brush with death. My nerves were tingling again and although I didn’t adhere to superstitious beliefs, I couldn’t help feeling wary. Especially since my instincts were often spot on. Perhaps I should send one of my Knights to watch over Mira during my absence, just to ensure her safety. I didn’t like sharing my private life with anyone other than Boris or Irina. But if it was for Mira’s protection, then I would make the sacrifice.

I quickly drove to Mira’s place of work and put the top down to catch her scent. It was now as familiar as my own, so I was able to find it easily. I was a bit surprised when it didn’t lead me to her usual route home. And she wasn’t alone. There were three other distinct scents mingling with hers. My hackles rose in alarm, thinking the worst. But when I took several deep breaths, I realized they were female and human. That made me relax a bit. At least she didn’t seem to be in any danger and had only gone out with a few female friends.

Yet, as I continued to follow her scent, my apprehension returned. She and her friends were on their way to Red. And that wasn’t good news to me. There would be one vampire lounging around Red right about now. Marcel. He never hunted in my bars, but he would surely notice Mira’s blood. I didn’t know if I was ready to expose her to other vampires aside from Irina, let alone one who was a connoisseur of rare blood types. One sniff and Marcel would be all over her.

Now that I was sure where she was, I stepped on the gas and screeched to a stop in front of Red. Eric, the valet on duty tonight, sauntered up to me and deftly caught the keys I threw him.

“Park it somewhere near and hang around. I might need it again in a few minutes,” I told the young man.

“Yes, sir,” Eric said, nodding.

“Boss,” Martin, the bald and stocky security personnel guarding the door, said.

“Has Marcel arrived yet,” I asked, hoping he hadn’t.

“Yes, Boss. Just a few minutes ago. He’s at the bar,” Martin said, erasing all hope of keeping Mira away from Marcel.

It wasn’t just Marcel’s ability to identify rare blood types that bothered me. Marcel was also a shameless playboy. Mainly because he could charm even the most elusive of ladies, human and vampire alike. I’d seen the trail of broken hearts Marcel had left behind through the centuries. Mira, with her exquisite beauty and precious blood, would be too much of a treasure for Marcel to pass up. He would use every weapon in his arsenal to seduce her out of her seat. Mira, inexperienced as she was, wouldn’t be able to withstand Marcel’s onslaught. So far, Irina was the only woman I knew who could do so, probably because she thought all French men were shallow dandies, not to be taken seriously.