A groomed, more composed Tariq sat on his mahogany throne, legs outstretched, fingers steepled together. Only the tick near his right eyebrow and the hard gleam in his eyes betrayed his mounting frustration as his men ran in and out, rendering reports on their progress, or lack thereof. The emotional link to his Heart’s Blood had hit a dead zone, as it were, and Tariq was once again in full possession of his mental faculties.
This whole thing was puzzling the hell out of him, the way she was there one moment, gone the next. In all of his centuries of living he’d never heard of anything like it. He kept searching inwardly, hoping for a trail—something, anything—to pinpoint her location. There was nothing, not even the faintest hint of her life-force seeped through.
He didn’t know her name, where she lived, or where she worked. He didn’t know if she was human or something more. All he knew was that she’d been a virgin and being with her had given him a satisfaction he’d never before felt.
In his centuries of living, he’d loved and been loved by many woman. He’d cherished them as men of his species were taught to do and enjoyed every minute of time they’d spent together. However, his Heart’s Blood was the one woman who could complete him as no other had. Now that he’d experienced the emotional and physical satisfaction their bond produced, he couldn’t go on without her by his side.
Tariq held himself motionless as a helpless fury raged inside. Knowing his Heart’s Blood had run from him was bad enough, but now he had to face the fact that his woman, the very beat of his heart, was being held, tortured—raped?—and with all the power and resources available to him, he couldn’t find her. Couldn’t rescue her.
He was idly contemplating the toe of his black, heavy-duty combat boots, wondering if he started kicking some ass if it would grant him better results when someone cleared their throat. “Speak,” he growled.
“Master, High Lord Alvaro is here to see you.”
Alvaro, High Lord Master of the Western Domain and prince of one of the ruling houses on Vampalien, rarely came out of seclusion. Tariq slowly raised his gaze to pin the fledgling where he stood. “And why is one of our greatest nobles still waiting outside?”
Even though his tone was mild, the fledgling flinched and rushed to go get him. Tariq rose gracefully to his feet and left the platform to greet Alvaro as he entered the room.
“Brother, it’s been too long.” Tariq reached out his hand and clasped Alvaro’s left forearm. They bumped shoulders and clapped each other on the back in a warrior’s embrace. Shoving his concern for his woman temporarily aside, he dredged up a smile for his friend that he had not seen in too many years to count.
Alvaro grinned broadly. “Tariq, good to see you. You haven’t changed much.” Word of your dilemma reached me. I’ve come to offer my assistance, he stated on their private pathway forged from shared blood and battles.
“Wish I could say the same,” Tariq teased. “Although white becomes you. This must fool many into believing you wise,” he taunted as he flicked a lock of Alvaro’s shoulder length, pure white hair. Any help you can provide will be greatly appreciated, old friend.
Alvaro laughed and it sounded rusty, as if he hadn’t had much practice lately.
Tariq laid a hand on Alvaro’s shoulder and directed him toward the private elevator. “Come, share a glass of vintage bloodwine with me and let us catch up.” He punched in the code to open the doors, laid his palm on the plate, and gave the voice command to go to the penthouse.
As soon as the doors closed, Tariq’s air of joviality dropped. He turned to Alvaro as the lift shot up. “I won’t question how you know what’s going on within my domain when you live thousands of miles away. Nor will I question why you’ve shut yourself off from your brethren these many years. You’ve always keep your ear to the ground. I’m glad to see this much, at least, has not changed.”
Alvaro inclined his head. “Congratulations on finding your Heart’s Blood.”
“And promptly losing her,” Tariq muttered as he stalked into his quarters. He waved his hand, indicating the lack of furniture in the sunken living room as he headed for the miraculously untouched bar. “I would offer you a seat but as you can see…”
“Redecorating?”
“A minor…mishap,” Tariq acknowledged as he removed the wine bottle from the private fridge and took down two glasses.
Alvaro joined him at the bar. “Sources say that you are unable to track her, despite administering the Kiss of Life.”
He savagely twisted the cork out of the bottle. “This woman has confounded me from the beginning. Nothing about her adds up. She smells human but threw off my compulsion like a psychic, disappeared from my lair like a ghost, and drops on and off radar in a manner which I’ve never heard the likes of in all my centuries of existence,” he snarled, feeling no shame in allowing Alvaro to see just how befuddled he was. A vampyr’s Heart’s Blood was the one area in which he was allowed to show weakness. “If my body didn’t still bear the marks of our joining, and if the mating venom wasn’t still thrumming through my veins, I’d think I imagined the whole thing.”
Tariq poured two glasses of bloodwine, slid one to his compadre, and downed his in one gulp before pouring another for himself. He shuddered as the fruity taste of grapes with the underlying tang of blood hit his taste buds then exploded in his bloodstream. He’d go carefully with the second glass. He couldn’t afford to have his senses incapacitated.
Alvaro took a sip of his bloodwine. “I know of one species capable of most of what you stated.”
Tariq tensed and leaned forward expectantly, wanting to grab him by the neck and demand answers, but forced himself to patience. Not that Alvaro would have let him get away with it. The years since he’d dropped out of circulation had in no way made him soft. Alvaro matched his six-and-a-half feet in height and bulk. Whatever he’d suffered—and there was no doubt he’d suffered something because not much turned a vampyr’s hair the color of snow—it had left lines in his face that gave the formerly fun-loving and easy-going male a grim and saddened demeanor.
“The Felini roll across our senses as human in their two-legged form, but in their animal form we can’t sense them at all. It’s like a huge void where they should be. They’re also not susceptible to compulsion,” Alvaro continued.
“Felini?” He knew of them, of course. Several alien species called earth home. The Felini were by far the most secretive and reclusive of the lot. “How do you know so much about them?”
Alvaro tossed back the remainder of his drink and held out the glass for more. “I was blood mated to one.”
Tariq almost dropped the bottle. Alvaro reached out and took it from his lax grip. “You mind?”
He cleared his throat and sought his voice. “No, help yourself.”
Alvaro up ended the bottle and took a swig. Tariq opened the fridge, took out a bottle, and poured another glass full, having a feeling he was going to need it. He hadn’t known their two species were compatible. “I think you’d better start at the beginning.”