Page 66 of Blind Date with a Werewolf
Not able to hear Asil’s wolf, Alan had kept talking. “The others should—”
Two cars, each with multiple people inside them, parked behind the BMW.
“—be here about now,” Alan said.
“Good.” Asil took a deep breath and tried to center himself. “You might not get any bad guys. I’ve set myself up as the rabbit so at least the Elder Vampire—the Master Vampire—will follow me.” He tipped his head so that Alan could see the bite marks that the high collar of his jacket had covered.
Ruby saw them, too. “Asil.”
There was nothing tidy about them. The vampire had known immediately that Asil was a werewolf—a particular delicacy among vampires. But unlike Asil, he had not known his enemy at first glance.
That was fair. The only time they’d met, the vampire hadbeen newly turned and not aware of how important keeping track of the monsters was.
Arrogance was the besetting sin of old monsters—Asil included. But Asil was careful—a gift he might owe to Mariposa. After she’d killed his mate and stolen her bond with Asil, Asil had run from her because he knew she had a leash that he could not break. He’d been afraid.
As Ruby had been afraid of the fae who had held her captive most of her life. The fae she had killed—with Asil’s encouragement.
Yes, agreed the wolf impatiently.But you’re rambling. We don’t have time for this.
Asil ignored him.
“You were like me,” Asil told Ruby, and could hear the bemusement in his voice.
“What?” she asked.
“Running from someone who could use you to hurt others.”
“Asil—”
“He’s moon drunk,” Alan said. “Getting bitten by an old one is bad.”
“He fed, too,” said Bobby grimly. “I’m afraid—”
Asil lost track of what Bobby was saying, latching onto “afraid.”
The vampire could have done with a little more fear. He’d understood Asil was a werewolf as soon as he’d gotten close. But when he’d separated Asil from the crowd, bringing him to a place where there was no one but the two of them, he hadn’t even thought to wonder if his victim was really as mesmerized as he appeared.
Asil had had other plans if the vampire had been morecautious. But he hadn’t expected to need them. From the vampire’s point of view, there was no reason for an old and powerful vampire to worry about a werewolf without his pack to back him up.
Asil was not as old as the Marrok. But he had seen Charles Martel’s grandson put an emperor’s crown on his head—and Charlemagne had become emperor in the year 800. Asil’s blood had a lot more power than most werewolves’, and he had pulled on his pack’s magic to give it even more potency. His pack was far away—but Asil was Asil and his Alpha was the Marrok. Power had flooded him.
The most difficult part of the whole business had been allowing the vampire to touch his skin. It had only been possible because the wolf had allowed it. A month ago, Asil would have had to come up with a different plan. But this evening, he flooded a Master Vampire with so much power, he collapsed to the ground writhing in ecstasy.
With a younger vampire, that would have provided Asil the perfect opportunity to kill it. But an old and powerful vampire was never as helpless as it appeared. If Asil had made any move he interpreted as aggressive, he would have recovered well enough to defend himself.
Asil had not needed to feed from him.
Once the vampire had sampled Asil’s blood, he could find Asil anywhere. Asil could have just left the preoccupied vampire and avoided the aftereffects that were making everything more difficult.
But vampires were very difficult to kill, and old vampires even worse than most. This one had minions and a ballroom ofhumans to feed upon. When he recovered from the impact of Asil’s blood, he might be smart enough to let Asil go. Might just hunt down Mari-Brigid and her driver. Or fall into a feeding frenzy and attack whoever came near.
He needed Alvarez to stay focused on Asil. To be so enraged that he forgot common sense and cunning.
So Asil had fed in his turn—and the taste of dust and rot still lingered on his tongue. For a vampire, in the fog of such a feeding, being fed upon in turn was not something his hindbrain interpreted as an attack.
Asil could have consumed most vampires without feeling much more than indigestion. But like Asil’s blood, the vampire’s had power. It was dangerous, this feeling, both in the way it lit his blood with reckless confidence and in the promise it held for future bliss.
“Asil!”
