He had pledged himself wholeheartedly to his task, and to date he had been worthy of his queen’s trust. Not one hair on the children had been harmed since they came under his care. They’d seldom left the compound as they grew up and were zealously protected by their parents when they did. The Praetorians had followed discreetly on those occasions, close enough to be available if required but always far enough to escape the children’s notice.
Not one Praetorian had ever sighted one of the Vârcolac even though they knew where they were every second of every day. Their charges had been able to grow up happy and carefree.
Mac was proud that he’d achieved what was asked of him. For some unknown reason, no new children had been conceived in the last twenty-five years. Rhianna had told him once that it was a puzzle to everyone why this was the case.
The current train of thought was it had something to do with the hybrid nature of the parents. With both being effectively immortal there was talk of it possibly being nature’s way of balancing out the numbers.
The Were doctors believed that once the current generation reached full maturity, the reproduction cycle would likely begin again. If that was the case then the possibility of new Vârcolac being conceived was highly imminent, which meant Mac needed to increase the number of Praetorians.
Sometimes the elite guard were also called on to come in contact with the Weres directly though their counterparts had no idea they were in the presence of one of the Praetorians. They were usually disguised as mere bodyguards for a Were/Council meeting, something so ordinary none of the Weres thought anything of it.
To this end, Mac had two of his most trusted people in close proximity to the Alphas of both the Armand-Hanlon and Hanlon packs, though they never entered the compounds so they could avoid being detected by the children.
All candidates went through rigorous training by his lieutenants, but Mac had final say on all who came under his command. And he wasn’t easy on those who thought they could hack it.
Now his cold, black eyes surveyed those gathered before him. He’d already discounted two of them. Neither had held his gaze for the required length of time he demanded of them. If they couldn’t look him in the eye for more than ten seconds then it showed they were weaker than they thought.
Holding Mac’s gaze was a chilling experience. He knew others saw death when they looked in his eyes. Most vampires had to be in their feral state to have irises the same hue as his, but Mac wasn’t in his feral state. His eyes were a bottomless pit of utter darkness, disconcerting and deadly in appearance.
He discounted one of the women when she looked away after less than five seconds and turned to the final woman at the end of the line. There was something unusual about this one. He’d known it instantly because he’d noticed her the second he’d walked out of the large house the Praetorians used as their base.
She’d drawn his eye as he made his way down the six steps to stand before them, his agile mind flicking through what he knew about her. Andrea Ruminskey, an Elder of just under one hundred and fifty years old. She was the sole survivor of a European coven massacre a decade ago.
Not a lot was known about her other than that, except she was fast, deadly, and was the top candidate out of the eight wanting to join him. He’d tasked Pietro to find out as much as he could about her. His report hadn’t thrown up any red flags.
She appeared to be just what her file told him. What his eyes told him was she was five foot nine inches tall, had thick, wavy brown hair with traces of gold hidden within. She currently had it tied back in a high ponytail and the style accented the graceful sweep of her high cheekbones and exquisitely beautiful features.
Sleek, toned muscles graced her body clad in black cargo pants and tank top. She was dressed as a soldier but had none of the butch look some fighting women could develop.
No, the generous handful of breasts beneath her tank top screamed woman at him and his cock had fisted hard as he’d walked down the steps to come and stand before the gathered candidates.
That was an interesting development. He hadn’t lain with a woman for a couple of weeks, having been away on assignment. He didn’t usually fuck the women in his team either. Maybe Andrea Ruminskey would fail his test. He could fuck her before he tossed her out on her ass.
Mac stiffened as he stared into chocolate eyes that appeared to be amused. How long had he been ruminating? How long had he had her gaze trapped with his as his cock twitched at the thought of fucking her? He knew the answer to that question even though he hadn’t been paying much attention at the time. Their gaze had been locked for at least twenty seconds.
Fuck, that put paid to thoughts of fucking her. He was irritated to note she was not only holding his gaze. She appeared to be silently laughing at him, as if she knew the direction his mind had wandered. He would have to put her in her place, make sure she knew just who was in command here. Over confidence was just as dangerous as being too weak.
Turning from her, he pointed out the three he’d marked earlier and one of his men marched forward and motioned them to follow him. They would be gone within five minutes. He could feel the brunette’s eyes on his back and forced himself to disregard her, as he did the others, to have a quiet word with Karn, his second in command.
Liliana Rose Romanov watched the tall vampire turn away from her and fought hard to keep her expression neutral. Her lips were so tempted to curve into a wide smile, but she didn’t think that would go down well with the male she wanted to impress.
Mac was glorious, everything she had been told and then some. His physique was that of a seasoned soldier, all hard muscles and lethal grace. He wore his inky-black hair long and secured in a thick braid but the best feature about him was his eyes. They were black as midnight, devoid of any light or softness. They were the eyes of a predator.