“Nothing, my lord. They’ve located a single lookout and will take him out on your command.”

Lucas frowned. If this were one of his border staging areas, he’d have at least two fighters on patrol at all times. On the other hand, this particular house wasn’t that far from Klemens’s main headquarters in Chicago, so perhaps they felt secure enough not to bother. They’d learn the error of their ways soon enough.

“Tell them to hang back, wait until I get there. I want to see for myself before we commit to anything.” He flicked a switch and spoke to the pilot through his headset, “ETA?”

“Twelve minutes, Sire. We’re putting you down in a field a mile distant and downwind. They shouldn’t hear a thing.”

“Excellent.” A mile run was nothing for his vampires, but he’d have to be sure they knew the battle plan going in. Once they were on the ground and running, they’d be on the hunt, their blood flowing hot, adrenaline pumping.

Lucas grinned savagely. This was going to be sweet.

* * * *

Lucas stood perfectly still and stared up at the old house. As Zelma’s real estate photo had shown, it was an older two-story brick with a pitched roof and a small sun porch to one side. He let his power wash lightly over the house, slithering into every crack, cupboard and closet, up every stair and down into the basement. He smiled. Klemens was going to be furious.

“Seventeen vampires, one a master,” he murmured. “And no humans.” This last was a relief. Humans would have greatly complicated his task tonight. He’d handle the master himself, although Nick or even Zelma could probably do it as well.

“The scouts were right, just the one lookout. Take him out now. Quietly, Zelma. I want no warning bells. We’re going in hot. A blitz attack—surround the house, overwhelming force. They’re clearly not expecting anyone, and they’re sure as hell not expecting me.”

Zelma said a single word into her throat mike. They were all wearing similar communication gear, except Lucas. He didn’t need electronics to communicate with his vampires, not once he unleashed the full measure of his power.

“Ready, my lord,” Zelma and Nick both whispered at almost the exact same time.

Lucas climbed the hill slowly, loosening the bindings on his power a little more with every step he took. Living among humans meant wearing a mask. Not just a pleasant face for the locals to see, but lashing his power down tightly so he could walk on the street without buffeting humans and vampires aside, without rattling the walls when he grew angry, or sending entire rooms full of humans into an irrational panic they didn’t understand. He was a vampire lord. He was power incarnate, but he rarely bared his true face to the world.

Tonight was one of those times, and he reveled in the beauty of it, as his power streamed out, surrounding him, waiting to be tapped, waiting for the taste of an enemy’s blood. The darkness around Lucas lit with golden fire as his eyes reflected the rise of his power. Unnatural winds began to toss the trees overhead, growing stronger until the trees themselves bowed before it, thick trunks groaning as they gave in to the unstoppable force. Lucas swept his arms forward, gathering the wind and tossing it at the house. It hit with a thundering crack of sound, like a sonic boom. Windows spidered, then shattered. Shingles flew from the roof, and the sun room collapsed.

From inside the house, he heard the first cries of shock and fear. No matter how stalwart Klemens’s warriors were, they had just become aware of the monster waiting outside in the dark. And they knew death had come to call.

“Go,” Lucas whispered onto the wind, and every one of his vampires heard it as if he’d spoken directly into their ear.They responded with a roar, crashing through doors and windows, racing into the house from all sides, howling for blood. Lucas cast his essence deeper into the house, seeding the air with terror, with every nightmare his enemies had ever dreamed. The screaming started as his vampires struck, the disbelieving cries of nearly immortal beings as they died.

Lucas’s attention was drawn to a single vampire in a corner of the house, near the fireplace. It was the master vampire, the strongest of Klemens’s creatures present. “Mine,” he said, and walked through the gaping hole where the front door had once been.

Several of Lucas’s vampires surrounded him as he strode forward. The fighting still raged deep in the house, a few diehards holding out against the inevitable. But the master vampire was waiting for Lucas, crouched in an attack position, fingers curled into claws and fangs dripping blood over his lower lip. His eyes were wild with fear as he looked upon Lucas, but they were filled with determination, too. He was too young to know his fate was already cast. Still, Lucas had to admire his courage in holding out as long as he had—and in remaining standing at all in the face of Lucas’s power.

Time to end that.

“Kneel,” Lucas commanded softly and drove the vampire to his knees with a hammer blow of power.

The young master grunted in pain as his knees cracked against the hardwood floor.

“What are you orders from Klemens?”

The vampire glared at the surrounding vampires, then met Lucas’s gaze defiantly. He knew, as Lucas did too, that Klemens would be on his way soon, if he wasn’t already. Lucas’s invasion of Klemens’s territory would have been enough to put the Chicago vampire lord on alert, but the violent death of so many of his vampires at once would be a beacon telling him where Lucas had attacked. And this young master vampire thought he could hold out until his Sire arrived.

Lucas smiled. “He’ll never get here in time,” he told the vampire almost sadly. “I’ll be long gone, and so will you.”

The vampire blinked as he took in the meaning of Lucas’s words, but remained defiant.

“I can take it from your mind, boy,” Lucas growled impatiently. “It will be less painful if you just tell me.”

The vampire responded by spitting a glob of blood at Lucas’s feet, and Lucas laughed. “I like your spirit. Too bad it’s wasted on that bastard Klemens. The hard way it is, then.”

Lucas sifted his power into the young master’s brain, immobilizing him even as he rooted through the vampire’s thoughts. He flashed quickly through recent memory, seeing Klemens’s hateful face and then a safe. In the basement. How quaint.

He withdrew from his captive’s head and took a step back. The vampire was slumped forward, head hanging, chin nearly resting on his chest. But he was still breathing. Lucas considered his prisoner. He had everything he needed from this one, or at least everything the vampire had to give him. The only thing left was death. He couldn’t afford to leave the enemy vampire alive, but he could kill him painlessly.

With what was clearly a supreme effort, the young master vampire raised his head. His eyes were unfocused, and he blinked several times before he was able to glare his hatred at Lucas once more. “My Sire will kill you,” he rasped. “I’ll see you in hell.”

“Probably,” Lucas replied cheerfully, then slammed his fist into the vampire’s chest and ripped out his heart. “But you’ll see your beloved Sire there long before you’ll see me.”

The vampire crumbled into dust. Lucas’s vampires swore and stepped back quickly to avoid getting splashed with any of it. Why they bothered, Lucas didn’t know, since they were already liberally painted with the blood of their enemies.

“Nicholas,” he said, almost casually.

“Sire?”

“There’s a safe in the basement. I want everything that’s in it. Everything. Zelma, get that helicopter over here to pick us up, then detail two of your people to drive the SUVs. I want them gone before we leave.”

While Nick and Zelma ran to follow his orders, Lucas gazed around the demolished house. His people had taken him literally, coming in from all sides. Every door and window he laid eyes on was destroyed, and someone had actually broken through the wall from the sun porch. The air was thick with the dust of too many dead vampires. It was a musty stench, with an overlay of old blood. He heard the helicopter come in to hover overhead and strode back through the house quickly. He might not mind the smell of his dead enemies, but he didn’t want to be covered in their dust from the helicopter’s rotor wash, either. He kept going until he was under the dark trees, then took a moment to cast his awareness out, searching for Klemens.

Ah. There he was. And as mad as a wet hen.

Nicholas, he sent to his lieutenant’s mind. Get everyone on the helicopter now.

He sensed Nicholas’s attention and then the urgent emotions of his vampire warriors as they rushed to obey. The SUVs were already gone, their red taillights flickering through the trees as they turned onto the main road, heading away from Chicago to avoid passing Klemens’s incoming gang on the road. They’d head for the Iowa border, which was Lucas’s territory and less than a hundred miles distant. At vampire speeds, that was little more than an hour’s drive. Lucas and his helicopter troops would fly directly to Minneapolis. The jet that had flown them to Chicago had already departed and was waiting for them there. But Lucas would bed down for the day in Minneapolis again. Although this time, he’d be sleeping in his private penthouse condo, not bunking in the basement vault of the Minneapolis house, no matter how comfortable it was.

Between the looming sun and his crashing adrenaline, Lucas was definitely ready to rest. He was pleased with the night’s work, however. He’d flipped Klemens the finger by flying into his own capital city for the raid and then destroying seventeen of the vampire lord’s warriors and stealing whatever data there had been in the safe. It had been a very satisfying night, definitely one for the good guys—which he had no doubt he and his vampires were. He was looking forward to crashing in the giant bed he’d had custom-made for his Minneapolis penthouse. Only one thing was needed to make it a perfect night. Kathryn Hunter. But somehow he doubted she’d be waiting for him.

* * * *

Minneapolis, MN

Kathryn woke sluggishly, confused by the complete absence of light. She had a full two seconds of alarm before registering the sounds and smells of a hotel. Right. Minneapolis. Hotel. Blackout curtains. She’d driven all day yesterday, intending to confront Carmichael at his gallery last night. But she’d been so worn-out by the time she arrived in the Twin Cities that she’d wisely put off the confrontation and fallen straight into bed instead. She might be carrying a badge, but Carmichael was a vampire, and she wasn’t even the slightest bit suicidal. The last thing she wanted was to challenge him when she was too tired to think straight.