Darrick Vaughan stared at the dark crimson liquid in his glass. Bottled blood. It was enough to make a vampire gag, yet all the females were off-limits for the next few days. It didn't happen often, but it was hell when it did.

As always, his thoughts turned to the new woman. The one who should have been his. Would have been his if Saintcrow hadn't asserted his right to have any woman he wanted at any time. One of the perks of being a master vampire, Vaughan thought glumly, and felt his jealousy and his frustration grow in equal measure.

Of course, he could have challenged Saintcrow, but he wasn't insane. There was no way he could hope to beat the older vampire, one-on-one.

He grimaced as he sipped his drink. If he could sway the other vampires to his way of thinking, they might be able to destroy Saintcrow and take over Morgan Creek, run it the way they saw fit. Instead of waiting for unwary mortals to stumble into town, they could go out and round up a dozen, a hundred, and gorge themselves to their hearts' content. But that would never happen as long as Saintcrow existed.

He drained his glass and set it aside. Right now, only Lilith agreed with him.

With enough persuasion and a little luck, he might be able to change that.

He thought again of asking Saintcrow for permission to leave Morgan Creek, but he was reluctant to do so. This place was a haven, a refuge from the hunters and slayers who were determined to wipe their kind from the face of the earth. Leaving Saintcrow's protection could be dangerous.

After signaling for a refill, Vaughan drummed his fingers on the bar top. Slow and steady wins the race, his father had always said. The best thing to do was try to sway the others to his way of thinking. It might take a year. It might take ten. But what the hell. If there was one thing he had, it was time.