Liz Eirikrson, the light-haired, blue-eyed, blood-drinking warrior who commanded the slayer, looked him right in the eyes and Alexius stopped writhing, recognizing death when he saw it. Even in his blood-filled haze, he’d remembered what he’d been told about the Eirikrsons. They were vampires who drank from vampires—from predators like him. He knew the blonde would drain him and enjoy it.

Alexius looked down.

Liz lifted one brow. “Well, this one looks reasonable enough, for a feral. Not even trying to fight me. He might have a brain cell or two left.”

Instead of drinking him dry or burning him, she had him brought back home to Oldcrest, and with his family’s blessing, bound him to the territory until he’d paid for his crimes.

What that meant, Alexius had stopped guessing at a long time ago. Nine hundred years hadn’t done the trick. He just knew he couldn’t leave; his flesh began to desiccate and rot every time he tried to cross the borders hiding their world from the mortals. And he tried once a year, every year, like clockwork. Given how many lives he’d taken, he doubted he’d ever free himself.

As Alexius regained his sanity, he remembered the hundreds—thousands—of deaths he’d caused, and he’d been fighting a losing battle with depression since. The one thing that seemed to help was healing people. And distracting himself with work. Inventions, discoveries. Things that challenged his mind. He was the brain behind most of the technological advancements of the last hundreds of years; he’d sent letters to Gutenberg, Da Vinci, Newton, tweaking them in the right direction. There were only one or two potion masters who could hold a candle to him. Alexius’s nature made him too volatile to wield magic directly, but he could mold it, infuse it into cursed or blessed objects. Changing lead to gold was child’s play.

And it wasn’t enough.

Sex helped. A good screw definitely figured among his favorite distractions, although he rarely indulged in the activity. He lived here, twenty-four seven, every day of his life, without a chance for a jailbreak in sight. Complicating his stay with a huge line of conquests wouldn’t have helped his case.

“The guy was dead. I would have helped if I could,” Alexius told Levi before the other elder had the chance to launch into a lecture.

“I know,” Levi replied simply, walking in without an invitation. “I thought you’d want an update. Jack gave us a list of the locations the boy visited over the last few years. Apparently, he disappeared for a little while, only turning up a month later after an assignment. It’s worth looking into.”

It was.

For people who could leave this damn prison.

“Are you going to offer me a drink?” Levi prompted.

This was new. The spontaneous updates, the drink. In the old days, Levi had only come to him if he wanted to accuse him of something or ask for a favor.

Alexius decided he didn’t mind.

“Sure thing. I have…well, everything.”

As he was stuck here, it only seemed right that Alexius would surround himself with all sorts of comfort and distractions. A full bar was on his list of necessities.

“Rum and Coke, if you please, Lex.”

“Pusser’s?” Rum was one of his spirits of choice; he had an extensive collection. But if the man was going to ruin it with soda, he sure as fuck wasn’t going to offer the good stuff.

“Sounds good.”

“Would you like it spiced up? I got some fresh AB neg powder.”

Once upon a time, the Helsing manor had housed his entire family on regular occasions. It had been more of a dorm with revolving doors than a residence for anyone. Now, there were only a dozen Helsings left alive, all of whom were younger than Alexius. His little sister was technically only a couple of hundred years his junior, but considering she lived on the other side of the world, in isolation, she didn’t count.

As the family elder, he was given reluctant respect. His reputation as an unstable, verging-on-insane scientist and ex-feral meant that the rest of his family was terrified of him. They didn’t come here if they could help it.

So the house was his, for all intents and purposes. He’d shaped it to reflect his eccentric mind, each room so very different it felt like stepping into a different house. He could choose where he wanted to hang out, depending on his moods.

Levi rolled his eyes, following him to a gold and black leather sitting room. “I’m not going to ask how you got hold of blood powder—AB neg, to boot.”

Blood trafficking was highly regulated. As there was no true use to concentrated powder, other than giving vampires a slight high, it had been considered illegal for a few years now.

Alexius smirked. “I have a donor. Selling someone else’s blood for profit is frowned upon, certainly, but he’s selling me his directly to pay for college. You know how I like to help bright young minds.”

Levi chuckled. He surprised Alexius by saying, “Sure, why not. If you promise it was a fair, ethical deal.”

Alexius lifted a brow. “You think I’d shortchange a boy? Come on.”

He paid a hundred pounds for a vial of ten milligrams of blood; if Mark had gone to a dark alley dealer, he would have been offered maybe twenty or thirty pounds. Black market dealers wanted to force desperate kids to give as much blood as possible so they could profit.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Levi said, sounding like he surprised himself. “In spite of your reputation, you’re a lot more honorable than you let on, Helsing.”

Alexius would have liked to believe that. But he knew that every time he weighed his options and decided on a course of action, the one thing motivating him was the possibility of getting out of Oldcrest.

Scotland was boring. Pretty, gorgeous, clean, and boring. He wanted to climb a skyscraper, swim with sharks, climb Everest, walk the entire wall of China. Rediscover the world he only knew through pictures and videos.

This called for a change of subject. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here, Levi?”

He handed the other ancient his drink and sat on his recliner.

Levi sighed. “Was I that obvious?”

“We’ve never been on late-night drop-by terms, friend. Not that I mind. I just figured you might want to get the matter off your chest so we can get drunk with lighter hearts.”

Levi’s dark eyes flashed blue, a sign of barely repressed anger. “I…I don’t think I can keep it together for long. Two thousand years I’ve lived, and it has been centuries since anything—anything—has tested my patience like this.”

Now Alexius was surprised. “What, is it Chloe? Is she nagging you or—”

“No, no!” Levi’s expression was all confusion. “Why would you even think that? She’s perfect. The problem is him. The poser.”

Alexius tried his very best to maintain an even expression, but laughter poured out of him, and he couldn’t stop. “Seriously? You see Fin Varra every day, and a boy annoys you more than him?”

“Fin is fae, it’s in his nature to be…dramatic. Seth is a freaking nightmare. On purpose. He turns up without notice and lounges around my house. Flirts with my mate. And I can’t fucking punch him because we need him. Stop laughing.”

Alexius didn’t think he could. He regained his composure for long enough to drink a healthy gulp of wine before leaning in toward Levi.

“All right, so here’s how you deal with someone like Seth Stormhale. You question his worth. Tell him he couldn’t possibly infiltrate the queen’s legion. He’d be all the way over there in a lightning bolt.”

Levi blinked. “That…that wouldn’t be prudent. If he gets caught, we lose our one asset.”

Alexius’s smile flashed a set of polished fangs. “Now, wouldn’t that be a shame?”

Pack Hierarchy

Deep within the Wolvswoods, close to the western borders of Oldcrest and the northern lake, there was a natural spring carved within the belly of the highest hill this side of their territory. The stories said that the great witches of old—once established in the building that now shielded the Institute of Supernatural Studies—used to purify these waters to use them in their spells. After tasting it for the first time, Avani didn’t doubt it. There was something not quite right about the spring; its water was too crisp and pure.

Some of the wolves didn’t even want to try it because they were afraid of lingering curses. Avani seriously hoped they were wrong, because being killed by a damn pond would be too lame for words.

She didn’t often run to Leah Hill, but this morning, staying out of the way of the pack authority sounded like a good idea.

She couldn’t be certain that whoever had been on patrol duty last night hadn’t seen her or smelled her when she snuck in. If she’d been spotted coming down from Night Hill by one of the enforcers, there’d be hell to pay. In the light of day, her actions seemed too stupid for words. Draiden, the alpha, forbade any interaction between the pack and the rest of Oldcrest.

The Elder Pack wolves were allowed to go out of the territory once a month, escorted by guards sent by Knox himself, and that was the extent of their interaction with the rest of the world.

Avani understood the reason behind the rules; the members of their pack weren’t known for their self-control, and if they ended up hurting an Oldcrest resident, their safe haven might be compromised.

There weren’t many places that would have opened their doors to sups like them; not only shifters, but wilder, stronger ones. They were actual predators, not furry humans. Long ago, at the Immortal Wolf’s request, Levi had welcomed the pack’s ancestors, telling them that they could stay as long as they caused no trouble.

Their residency still depended on the goodwill of the lord of the territory. Hell, they didn’t even pay rent. Levi had had plumbing installed, and let them place a weekly order of necessities. Avani didn’t think the pack paid for any of it.

They would have had issues financing something like that elsewhere. Not that they didn’t have jobs. Some of them did. The alpha, beta, enforcers, and healer were solely focused on the running of the pack, but the others had occupations, in and out of their little world.