The room is blinding white, so white that it takes my eyes a few minutes to adjust to it. Twelve daylight colored UV lights flood lab from the ceiling, and I feel my energy draining from me with every step I take towards the center of the room. From outside, the sound of gunfires and explosions ensue endlessly. It's a big building, armed by more than two hundred men with a silver bullet loaded guns and grenades. Even with the fifty vampires I've brought, it's going to take time to slaughter them all.

And I'm going to slaughter them all, down to the last man standing. I'm going to bring them hell as they've never imagined.

The four scientists in white gowns huddle together in the corner, mumbling something with their eyes closed. They haven't noticed me teleporting into the lab, and why would they when they're too busy praying to whomever they call God. It's almost hilarious how they think it's going to save them. Humans. They shit on everything their God has ever created and then have the nerve to ask for mercy when they're chased into the corner. They shit on us and think there won't be consequences. Such arrogant, pathetic, helpless creatures.

The rain still pours outside, and thunders are roaring so loud it sounds like some sort of an apocalypse. I shake the water off my wings and send a blast of my power across the room. The lights shatter all at once, and the power goes out. Sounds of panic erupt from the outside, and I can hear my soldiers moving in for the kill. I ignore the scientists and head to the bed in the middle of the room, covered on all sides by white curtains with all kinds of tubes and cords hanging around it. A part of me is flooded with relief that I've found him, the other with dread for what I'm about to see behind those curtains.

I take a breath and pull back the fabric. Inside, Marcus is lying unconscious, his beautiful, golden hair is a mess and caked with blood. There are cuts everywhere on his face, his arms, his torso - cuts that haven't healed. Wolfsbane. I swear inwardly as I smell it from his blood. They're feeding him Wolfsbane through an IV to keep him weak and slow his ability to heal. There is a large if incision the size of my hand on his thigh, the wound kept opened by a few clamps as they're in the middle of an operation, but the smell of dried blood around it tells me it's been like that for days. They'd kept it opened as they experimented on him, I realize with a flash of anger rising in my chest. There're electrical wires everywhere - wires that are meant for electrocution. My stomach turns at the sight of it, at the evidence of what he's been put through for the last three weeks. White, hot rage courses through my veins as I clench my fists on the bed's railing, its metal groaning as it bends in my grip. I look up and, there I see them, hanging by the right side of the experimenting table, half stained with blood and torn around the edges.

His feathery white wings.

I jolt awake at the sound of my own scream. The entire floor rumbles underneath my feet as I run straight to the bathroom to hurl up the content of my stomach. My ring is glowing bright blue, keeping my sudden burst of power in check so I don't bring down the entire estate when I lose control. It takes me a full minute to reel it back in and calm myself down. I know the sudden need to throw up wasn't one of the effects of my bond with Veronica. For the past two weeks, the new pills have been working to perfection, and I haven't felt any nausea or headache since then.

No, this is all me. It's the memory, the nightmares that still linger somewhere in my head like a monster hiding in a dark closet, waiting for the right time to come out and eat me alive. For the first five years since Marcus had died, I struggled with it endlessly, and back then nothing else could keep them away except blood - an outrageous amount of human blood. For more than a year I raided the human world, tearing down every organization and slaughtering everyone who was even remotely connected to the cooperation that was using Marcus to create bioweapons. I don't even know how much blood I consumed a day. I was always heavily intoxicated, to the point that I can't recall some of the things I've done. Coming out of such addiction wasn't easy, and even now, after having stayed clear out of it for half a decade, I still crave it like nothing I've ever craved, especially when these nightmares return with a vengeance. It hasn't for a while, though, and I bet it's the report Lucien has given me yesterday that triggered it.

My mood has been sour all evening, and the entire estate knows, judging from the way they all seem to be unusually quiet around me. They all felt the tremors, of course, but by then everyone knows the cause when it happens during those hours and they've learned not to mention it. Lucien, however, made a point at sending up a pot of sweetened sage tea infused with milk of the poppy as soon as I woke up. It's not the closest thing to blood, but it does numb down some of the pain.

Some things never go away no matter what you do. I look at Lucien who's sitting across the table from me, sipping his own tea quietly as he reads the evening's paper and I see it too. Behind that mask of indifference he wears to perfection, there remain layers after layers of scars and wounds that will never heal. The man I saw in that dungeon is still in there, and I could never begin to imagine the centuries of pain and torture they'd put him through while in captivity. Lucien understands me. He also knows exactly what to do to survive, how to live with it, which is why he's joined me for his first meal today, not just to give me company, but to keep me focusing on the presence of someone, rather than an absence of another. I wonder from time to time if there's anything that can ever break my seneschal, and what would happen then.

I choose to fly to the Sky Tower that evening for a council meeting. I need to stretch my wings, breathe some fresh air, escape the world for a moment to clear my head. From the distance, I can see the tall, pencil slim glass tower glowing bright blue, its needle-sharp tip reaching high above the clouds and twinkles to match the stars around it. From the very top of the tower, one can see as far as the snow-capped mountain range in the north, and how remarkably unique the four territories are in their landscapes. The Northwood, the werewolf's territory and the largest of the four, is covered with the grey and white colors of its rocky mountain range, with hundreds of sharp peaks that are always covered in snow even in the summer. The Eastwood is filled with bright green tropical trees and waterfalls, with numerous curving rivers that look like a series of blue veins snaking through the land. My side of the territory, the Westwood, is made up of black volcanic rocks, and cobalt blue lakes surrounded by thick forests of pine trees. The Southwood, my true home and what used to be Marcus' territory, is a land with lush, rolling green hills that never seems to end. Large, centuries-old oak trees dotted along the edge of the forest, and in the summer, wildflowers in more colors than one can imagine spring up from the ground, covering every inch of the fields as far as the eyes can see. We used to race each other for days on horseback when we were young, Marcus and I, returning to the estate all wet and covered in mud that got us grounded for the next several weeks. It had never stopped him from heading out. You couldn't nail him down or lock him in a room any longer than a few hours at a time. He wanted to see, to taste, to hear, to touch and to climb everything just for the sake of it. There were more life and passion in a single man than I've seen in the entire realm we live in. That was why he'd stayed for so long in the human world, why he'd come to care for it, enough to want all the blood trafficking to stop, to close all the gates once and for all. Why he's lying in his grave now.

My childhood friend, my most trusted companion, the closest thing to a brother I'd ever had, and the man who'd made me High Lord of the Westgate, dead, by the hands of the humans he'd tried to protect. I can't hate the ideals that Marcus had lived for, even if it'd killed him, even if I want to, but I can finish what he'd started. It's a testament to his life to remind me of his existence, the only way I can pay him back for everything he'd given me, and the man he'd shaped me into today.

I make my landing on the platform at the top of the tower. Lucien has teleported my guards up there to wait for me. The Sky Tower is the center of command for the realm, the place for council meetings and home for the Chancellor for as long as he's in office. It's situated at the point where the four territories meet, surrounded by a moat ten meters deep and five-hundred meters wide that makes it look more like an island in the middle of a lake than a man-made fort. The building has its own codes, security guards, and a central army to protect it from attacks and any uprising. There are no stairs, no elevators from the twentieth floor up to the top of the one-hundred-floor tower, and the only way to get anywhere past that point is to either fly or teleport into its chambers, half of which are protected by old magic no one alive knows how to undo. It means only vampires and werewolves of pure or old blood can get here, which leaves out the possibility of invasion from a force larger than its army can handle. There aren't enough of us left in the realm for that kind of immobilization, and even if there are, we're usually more interested in fighting each other than working together anyway. The guards we bring are mostly for show, and while most of them usually teleport a lot more up here, I'm in the habit of bringing just Lucien, Mel and Dmitri. Lucien alone is the equivalent of bringing ten well-trained vampires in any case, and Mel and Dmitri - the two of them together - can take care of twice that number.

In the middle of the platform is the High Court where all official meetings take place. It's a glass dome with its own defense system that renders our powers utterly useless once inside. The only fight that can happen in there is a physical one, and I happen to be packing the most lethal three in that department, not to mention there were only two people who had ever managed to knock me down with their fist in the past three centuries, one being my worthless, piece-of-shit father, the other was my best friend now lying in his grave. In other words, nobody fucks with me in that chamber, not even the Chancellor, because if they do, I'll be the only High Lord who gets to walk out of there alive. I may be one arrogant son of a bitch, but every ounce of it comes from being prepared and a century of planning. When you grow up being a sandbag for your own parent who doesn't die, you either fold or you fight with your teeth to survive. I chose the latter, simply because Marcus hadn't allowed me the possibility of seeing anything else as a choice. 'One day," he'd said, pointing a trembling finger at my father on the dais, 'I'll drag that piece of shit down from that chair and put you on it.' He'd done precisely that, which is why I'm here at all, walking into a council meeting as the Keeper of the Westgate. Marcus was afraid of nothing, no one. He thought everything was possible, even turning the good-for-nothing, abused, pathetic little boy like me into what I am today.

The dome grows quiet the moment I walk in, and every head turns in my direction. My mood is sour tonight and they can feel it. I haven't slept enough and I can't get that nightmare out of my system. It probably shows, because Aelia's smile suddenly vanishes when she sees me, and I can see Kain sucking in a breath as if preparing for me to explode. He maybe Chancellor, bestowed with the power to pass laws and the command of the central army, but he can't throw me or any High Lord in prison for making his life difficult, which I do, most of the time. Across the table from Aelia's seat, Vincent Acheron, Marcus' half brother and the current Keeper of the Southgate, catches my gaze and inclines his head slightly, acknowledging my presence. The kid is almost two-hundred years my junior and had been Marcus' protege for some time, so he treats me pretty much like an older brother. Marcus trusted him, and so far he deserves that trust, which means I have the Southgate behind me for the upcoming election. I find the kid a bit lacking in experience and motivation, but I suppose its better than having to deal with someone ambitious. This way, I have one less competitor, since Vincent isn't running for Chancellor at all.

On Kain's right hand sits my archenemy, Zach Veyron, his protege and the acting Keeper of the Northgate while he remains Chancellor. Kain sure is my number one competitor for the election, especially with the number of werewolves being on the rise to give him votes, but competition is competition, people who try to fuck with you every time an opportunity knocks is another story. Since Veyron became the acting High Lord, the prick has raised border tax on me, thrown enough of my men into prison for the slightest breach of protocol, and has tried to kill me twice. It doesn't help that he pretty much matches me in just about every aspect whether it's power, looks, or arrogance. The conniving bastard also happens to be smart, disciplined, and pretty deadly at his job. He dresses to rival me, sleeps with my women just to piss me off, and now that he's helping Kain with the election, the insufferable mutt has been digging up everything to give me bad publicity. Just one look at that shit eating grin on his face makes me want to spill blood all over that black shirt, which, I have to admit, is cut pretty much to perfection. As if that's not bad enough, he makes a point at looping an arm around Aelia's chair then whispers something in her ear that tells me they'd slept together, and probably has just arrived here pretty much hand in hand. I don't particularly care who Aelia sleeps with when she's not with me, just as long as it's not Zach who's obviously doing it to fuck with me rather than to fuck Aelia. What's worse is that I know Aelia is also sleeping with the Wolf to get back at me for that blow job I'd forced her into last month. I'm going to have to set something straight with the Witch after this and make sure she knows her boundaries, even though I'm pretty sure already does. Nobody in the realm is ignorant to the fact that Zach and I want to rip out each other's throat on a regular basis.

I slam the evening's paper on the table before I take my seat beside Vincent. On the front page shows the news of yesterday's raid Kiera has led that resulted in the confiscation of a phenomenal amount of illegal blood and thirty living supplies. One or two humans are found sometimes when we manage to intercept these trades, but thirty is a number big enough to call a High Court meeting for investigation. Nobody can move a shipment that large through a gate without authorization from one of the Keepers. I know for a fact that all of them smuggle more amount of blood supply than they're allowed to through their own gates for their secret stash and for resale to the blood market. It's to be expected especially when there's an election coming up and funds are needed for votes. But live supplies - especially at this number - are off limits, and the fact that it got into my side of the territory means somebody has the nerve to try to fuck with me. It goes against my advertised policy, damages my reputation, and makes me look incompetent. Whoever brought this shit in and sent it my direction is going to pay for it and pay for it big time.

"I want to know which gate they came through and which border they used to cross into the Westwood, and I want the permit for my men to enter all three territories for investigation on my desk by tomorrow night," I lay it all out on the table at once, but they already know I'm not one who likes to stand on ceremony for these things. Ten years ago I might have tried a little harder to beat around the bush for the sake of a more peaceful meeting if only to avoid giving Marcus the headache of having to stop a fight. Now I don't see the point. Not anymore.

"For your men, Valentin?" Zach raises a brow. "Thirty live humans is a threat to the realm, not just the Westwood. It calls for central investigation, does it not, my lord Chancellor?"

Kain sits back in his chair and watches me from the corner of his eye as he replies, "It does."

"I never said otherwise," I tell them, keeping my gaze on Zach's yellow eyes to catch anything he might let slip. "Investigate, by all means, but the last time I waited for central investigation to crawl through some very obvious evidence, they were too late and shit happened. I want my men on it too, unless of course, if the Chancellor is worried they'll find something on his side of the wood." I wouldn't be surprised if they do. Werewolf territory is the largest and the most populated one where information is hardest to come by for the reason that they keep mostly to themselves. We work together sometimes, and while we vampires do employ a lot of them in our own territory, it's not quite true the other way around. A part of it is our own arrogance for finding it below us to work for them, but most of it comes from the fact that their bite is lethal to us, which doesn't really make one feel so safe being surrounded by that many werewolves. As for human blood, while they don't get high from it the way we do, they can still heal and regenerate tissues from the use of it, which makes it more dangerous for us if they have a lot in possession. Given how hard it is for vampires to conceive these days and how easy it is for them, not to mention the growing number of vampire's death rate with regards to blood abuse and the murders surrounding it, their population is growing too close to ours with three territories combined. It's how Kain, as a werewolf, managed to gain enough votes last time to sit in that chair. No vampires would ever vote for a werewolf, but when our votes split in three directions, they win, and they'll win again if I don't gain the support from both the Southwood and the Eastwood.

"Well, then, enlighten me." Zach meets my eyes and sneers openly, not that there is ever a need for either of us to be discreet about our hostility towards each other. "How do we know the shipment didn't come from your gate, and that you're only using this as an opportunity to investigate on something else?"

Because I don't let anything through my gate, you worthless piece of shit. I check myself before giving in to the provocation I know he's throwing my way on purpose. My mood is too sour today to engage in a verbal battle without making it an actual fight five sentences later, which will end up on tomorrow's headline to his advantage. Instead, I opt to simply sneer back at him, and give Aelia a quick smile. "Say what you want, but I'm not the one snooping around for information through someone else's bitch for my alpha."

Aelia snarls at me, fangs out and all, and I ignore her. I'm going to pay for that in some ways afterward, but I have more important things to worry about right now, and for how she's been behaving, that was considered mild.

Zach's yellow eyes narrow viciously at me, probably imagining sinking his fangs into my neck, before checking himself and turning to Kain. "The point is, my Lord Chancellor, that if a permit is to be given to anyone besides central investigators, it should be given to all of us to be fair. We don't know where the shipment came from, or who that High Lord is working with." He glances in Vincent's direction, and the kid who always seems to be occupying his brain with something else outside the chamber doesn't seem to notice. "You either open all borders for investigation, or you open none except to central investigators, and Valentin will just have to trust us to look after our own affairs. That is my proposal."

"I agree," Aelia chimes in, smirking in my direction to make sure I feel the knife she just plunged in my back.

Kain looks at Vincent, waiting for his vote. The kid lifts his drooping eyelids and smiles a little apologetically at me. I wonder sometimes if he ever listens to half the conversation on this table. "He does have a point."

I feel a cold, cold rage going through me, directing at everybody in the room, at Kain and Veyron who's trying to turn this to their advantage, at Aelia who can't be trusted with anything but whose support I happen to need, and at Vincent who should be backing me up but doesn't seem to have enough backbone for it.

"Trust you?" I say through tightly gritted teeth, my anger simmering to a boil in my chest. "Somebody in this room gave Marcus Acheron to the humans just to keep the gates opened, and so far none of you has shown the slightest intention to root out that traitor among us. Until I find out who did it and finish peeling the flesh off his or her bones and feed it to the pigs, don't, ever again, ask me to trust any of the High Lord sitting here." I rise from the table before my temper gets the better of me. I've had enough of this bullshit for the night. I've had enough since I woke up that evening.

"You can keep your permits, Chancellor, but when I find out who did this - and I will find out before you do - the perpetrators are mine to do with as I please, and if you interfere in any way, any way at all, I'm going to make sure everyone knows what happened to Marcus, and how you did nothing to stop it." There'll be a riot for that, and had I been more of a scumbag like the rest of them, I would have done it to make sure I win the next election. Marcus was a highly esteemed figure who'd fought for justice all his life, even for equal rights for the werewolves in our territories. Everyone loved him, and he would have won this election easily had he been alive. The media would all point a finger at Kain as to why the search and rescue mission had taken so long, why he'd kept the manner of Marcus' death a secret, and why there isn't an ongoing investigation to find out who'd betrayed him. It would be so easy for me to spread the words, but that means the case would be opened to the public, I can't do that to Marcus' family. I can't open that wound again for them after ten years of trying to forget every torture they'd put him through just to gain some advantage over an election.

I walk out of that chamber and shoot to the sky, ignoring Lucien who looks like he can use some Xanax. I need to get away from all these rotten, back-stabbing bastards before I explode and ruin everything I've worked for. As it happens, there is only one place, one person who can calm me down. I haven't given her a visit for a while because I try not to, but tonight I need a little more than comfort, I need a favor.