Ironic Sacrifice

By: Brooklyn Ann

Jayden blushed harder. “It’s okay… I mean, it was wonderful.” She couldn’t suppress a sigh.

“Oh damn, mental picture!” Akasha opened another beer as if trying to drink the images away. “But if you had said no, do you think he would’ve stopped?”

Jayden frowned. It was hard to imagine telling such a dark and powerful man “no.” But Akasha had a point. It didn’t matter how gorgeous he was, or how good he was in the sack. She didn’t want him to rape her.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled.

Akasha glared. “Well you’d better find out, if you’re going to stay with him. If he rapes you I will hurt him…for real.”

Jayden changed the subject. “What is your husband like?”

Akasha lit up with a dreamy smile and her eyes overflowed with rapture. “He’s a sweetie. You’ll like him. He’s going to help you control your powers.”

“Really? Razvan didn’t tell me.” Surprised pleasure washed over her and a tiny candle of hope ignited. Could there truly be help for her?

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. He likes being an enigmatic bastard.” The mechanic put a flashlight on the bench. “Could you point that for me while I check out the wiring harness in that Dodge?”

“Sure.” Jayden picked up the flashlight and followed her to the car.

“And Jayden?”


“Until you get your shit under control, don’t fucking touch me again.”


As he walked in search of Silas, Razvan pondered his intense fascination with Jayden. Never before had any of his pet psychics weighed so much on his thoughts. Perhaps it was because he’d enjoyed her body so much. He hadn’t had a release with a woman for a long time. Or maybe her power brought him hope. Could she be the one to find Radu? His heart quickened at the thought, but something told him that there was more to his growing obsession. Either way, he couldn’t ask her about Radu until her mind was healthy and strong again…if it ever would be. Besides, he’d given up on his quest to find his missing twin. His fists clenched as he reiterated the statement. He had given up.

Razvan spotted the other vampire behind a tavern on 2nd street. He hung back and watched his prodigy feed. Silas McNaught was a large warrior, with broad shoulders and powerful muscles. The physique still remained from his practice with the sword, though he now directed most of his efforts to tedious matters of finance.

Silas touched his victim as little as possible. When he finished, he handed the young man some money and, as if on command, a taxi pulled up. Razvan chuckled at Silas’s way of turning his meals into a virtue. Every night he fed, he kept a drunk driver off the road. It seemed he was still covered with guilt over deeds long past. After Razvan had left McNaught to his own devices back in the sixteenth century, Silas had launched on a bloodthirsty campaign against the English who had slaughtered his clan. According to rumor, he had killed at least one soldier a night…until the Elders had instituted their ban on killing humans.

Of course, there were always accidents. Razvan chuckled aloud at the thought, thinking to announce his youngling of his presence.

Silas raised a brow at his laugh and crossed the street, meeting him on the cracked sidewalk. Dead leaves crunched under his polished shoes.

“Greetings, Razvan Nicolae, Lord of Spokane, Washington. How are you this fine evening?”

Razvan bowed. “Greetings, Silas McNaught, Lord of Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. I am well. I seek a favor from you.”

Silas stared hard at him with his far seeing peridot green eyes and ran a pale hand through long black hair that fell past his shoulders. “Might this have to do with the woman you found?”

Razvan was stunned. “You know about her? What did you see?”

Silas laughed. “Why do you presume I saw anything? I can smell her on you. I thought you did not advocate having sex with your food.”

Razvan grunted noncommittally and shifted back and forth on the cracked sidewalk. “I generally do not.”

Silas laughed harder. “Oh you look so uncomfortable right now. I suppose I will take pity on you. I had a vision of you taking her from the streets last night, so I think it was intended.”

“Intended? How so?” He hated the angst revealed in his tone.

Razvan had had centuries to get accustomed to the fact that things happened for a reason. Human beings had no idea how many prophecies and portents were being played out every second of their meager lives. Still, he’d never had awareness of being directly involved with one, despite his exposure to all the psychics he trafficked with. The idea that this fact could be changing made him wary.

“So, what was the favor you wanted to ask me?” Silas asked, ignoring the question, as they began walking down Lakeside Avenue.

Razvan measured his words carefully. “Jayden, my new pet mortal, is a psychic. A very powerful one.”

McNaught raised a brow. “How powerful?”

“So powerful that she cannot function in a normal human life. She sought death to escape the intensity of her visions.” He hoped that his worry and guilt was concealed from his youngling.