The heavy thud of the wrought-iron door to the secluded estate I inherited echoes loudly off the stone floors and Venetian plastered walls when I enter. Coated walls and slick floors are a must for any vampire's lair. They are much easier to clean should we wish to enjoy a meal from the privacy of our home.

The double bonus to bringing prey home is that I don't have to worry about proper body disposal. I simply bring the carcass down to the incinerator. Two hours later, the corpse is reduced to ashes I will scatter into the ocean where they become food for the fishes. The circle of life is as delicate as it is brutal.

My feet halt in the entryway before I make it into the living room. "Alekos?" I say, surprise to see the eldest member of the Vondarrie family stationed in front of the hearth as a gas fire crackles on colored glass behind him.

The Vondarrie hail from the royal bloodline that dates back to the beginning of our kind. There are only five bloodlines left that have ties that date as far back as the Vondarrie's. My family is one of them.

My sisters immediately stand, my voice pulling them from the sofa they were perched on before I arrived. I see Sabrina and Serena have received more than just one member of the Vondarrie into our home in my stead. Dorian Vondarrie bows his head in my direction.

"Tristan Darkos," Alekos interrupts my acceptance of his eldest son's silent greeting. "It has been some time. Over two centuries, if I am not mistaken?" Alekos smiles, his grin refine with an elegance that I always fall short of.

Humans may not be able to see it, but there is always a sinister edge to my smile, one I haven't been able to iron out despite my attempts.

I suppose any attempts are futile as not one of my kind would ever refer to me as a vampire that exudes elegance and charm. Sure, I can play the part for a human. However, that doesn't say much. It is not hard to charm a human, just play to their vanity and sense of self-worth. You'll have them right where you want them. To charm another of my kind requires talent, a talent I lack.

"I believe it has been closer to three," I say. "What brings you to North America's west coast? Did things get lonely up in that big castle of yours?" I kiss the ring Alekos wears that bears the crest of the Dark Prince when he offers his hand to me.

The Vondarrie's bloodline is the only one honored with royal distinction, as they are the "true" descendants. We vampires may have a creator, but our Maker only fashioned the first of us—the Prince of Darkness and his mate. Haysha, the God of the Underworld's true name the humans have forgotten, gifted her creations with powers unlike any this earth had ever seen. They were to become gods who would rule this world, and they did for a time.

Along with the gifts and powers Haysha bestowed upon the Dark Prince and his mate, she gave them a court known as the Vampirie to help serve them and establish their reign over the humans that infested the earth. The Vampirie were given remarkable powers, but no Vampirie's strength could ever match that of the Prince.

It's said that my bloodline comes from a night when the Prince of Darkness's mate laid with the Great Warrior who spilled blood in the name of the Dark Prince. She seduced him as a way to make the Prince jealous as the Prince had taken up a lover. That night the head of the Darkos name was conceived—Thron, the Beast of the Damned. At least, that is what the humans called him back when humans worshiped and paid homage to the Prince of Darkness in a time that pre-dates the written history of the humans today.

"Good evening, Tristan, Grandson of the Beast Thron and Son of Therrien and Lessandra Darkos." A silken voice flows in my direction on a breath that is distinctly feminine and lacking in maturity. "I have eagerly looked forward to this moment. Your parents have been so kind to us in our time of need."

The young vampire with platinum-white tresses spilling past the arch of her back walks up to me, the elegant and lavish dress she wears brushing against the material of my dark wash jeans.

"It seems you have now met the reason we have journeyed far from home. Tristan, may I introduce to you Kalista Vondarrie, the long-awaited heir to the Vondarrie bloodline and the Princess of the Vampirie." Alekos comes to his daughter's side.

My gaze flicks to Dorian's. He is one of the many illegitimate children of Alekos. As the first, he was set to inherit the throne.

"How is that...I thought..." I look down at the fledgling whose hands are clasped around mine, her purple eyes a match to the petals of the rarest of Phantom Petunias.

"Thought it impossible? Yes, so had I. Arianna and I had long given up hope we would ever have offspring of our own, but our Maker has finally sought to grant us what we have endeavored so long for," Alekos states.

"What about the Blood Sacrifice?" I ask, unable to take my attention off the princess of my kind, a princess I knew nothing about.

Why would Alekos and Arianna want to keep the princess's birth a secret? Something isn't adding up.

"It has been paid."

In all my years, I have never seen Alekos's eyes so weighted with sadness. For the first time, he is starting to look his age: his eyes dark and sunken, his complexion paler than usual.

"She had a twin?" I ask.

Having twins among our kind is a phenomenon that is rarer than a solar eclipse. Alekos and Arianna got lucky. Though I don't think most would count trying to have offspring for millenniums as lucky.

"No." Alekos shakes his head, his dark eyes filling with scarlet that slips past his cheek. He wipes it away quickly and clears his throat. "Arianna offered a trade, her life in place of the firstborn. The trade was accepted. It is why I sent for your parents. I needed Lessandra to help me care for Kalista and your father to help me protect her. There has been tension brewing among the bloodlines. If word of Arianna's death had gotten out, we would have been under siege. There are many unhappy with my rule."

Alekos places his hands over his daughter's that are still holding onto mine.

The princess must have been sheltered. She is far too happy to see someone outside castle walls. You would think I was the first vampire she has ever met the way she looks at me.

"Our kind is growing restless of living in the shadows," Alekos continues, squeezing our hands before letting go. "The dawn is coming when I will no longer be able to keep the existence of our kind in the shadows of human folklore. With Kalista's birth and Arianna's sacrifice, I need someone who can stand strong beside our future. Something is coming, Tristan. I can feel it in these old bones of mine. We need to be prepared. The Council has decided. Tristan Darkos, it is time for the warrior bloodline of your great ancestor to ascend. All you have to do is accept Kalista as your mate. You will rule beside her, guiding her when the day comes and I step down and take my place as council member instead of ruler."

Laughter, manic and disbelieving, bounces off the stone surfaces that cover this grand home. It dies from my lips quickly when I see the stern expression Alekos is wearing."

"You're serious?" I pull my hands away from Kalista. The way she looks at me giving credence to my belief this is no joke.

Alekos Vondarrie of the royal bloodline is asking me, Tristan Darkos, to accept the princess I didn't know existed until today to be my future mate. What hellmouth have I fallen into?

My gaze narrows. I step away from the lovesick fledgling. This decision is not something The Council discussed a few days ago. No, it was decided probably within weeks of the princess's birth.

"Princess, you have been misled. I wish to take no mate. I am sorry my parents and your father have neglected to keep this from you. You will have to look elsewhere. My condolences for the wasted trip over here." I turn to leave.

I want no part of this. I will never want part in this. I wasn't fashioned to love. I was fashioned to kill.

"You have not changed." Alekos shakes his head in knowing disappointment. "I will not command you to pair with my daughter. I have too much respect for your wishes, yet I did come prepared for the rejection your parents warned me would take place. I have brought Kalista's things. She will stay here until her twenty-fifth birthday, along with Dorian. It is my hope in these next two years you will change your mind. If you refuse to accept this pairing, Kalista will be forced to pair with someone not of my choosing," Alekos says, his voice worn and strained.

He is tired, the loss of Arianna too great for him to find the will to drink enough to nourish his immortal body to its full potential. I think if he had it his way, he would rather be turned to stone and be kept in the place where the Dark Prince and his mate have been kept for many millennia than continue to face this world alone.

Of course, if we could wake the Prince from his eternal sleep, he might be able to bring Arianna back. There is a partial scroll with evidence the Dark Prince possessed such a power. Most of the scroll is ruined, burned with a large piece missing. The rest of the writings are thought to be fables of our kind— human influenced babble that makes no sense with what little has been preserved since the Great War that ended the Prince of Darkness's reign.

"Alekos, you may leave the princess here. I will look out for her as my father has done. But know I will not change my mind. The sole companion I need is that of the blood of my prey. If you will excuse me, I need to wash the blood and pieces of flesh from my skin." I leave, heading to the master wing of the house.

The high I came floating in here on has been stripped from me just as I tore a human and her friend's hearts from them on the way home.

I don't know what is wrong with me. I can't seem to quench my thirst. Even now, I could feed on a hundred humans, draining them all within an ounce of their lives and still be blinded by the thirst running feral in my veins. It is like no blood is going to satisfy me because the beast in me only wants that of the human's I found in the bookstore.

"Tristan?"

"What?" I snap, turning around to face Sabrina.

Now is not a good time to talk to me. Alekos wants our bloodlines to mix. Why not choose one of the other families? I'm sure Kerrien Norvak would love to become the princess's show pony.

Not me.

I don't want to be enslaved by a mate or the rules royals are subject to follow. I enjoy my freedom too much to be tied down by traditions set before my time.

"Brother?" Sabrina delicately touches my cheek. Her gaze stays on the whites of my eyes. They are still stained black, the blue of my irises fiercely glowing as hunger torments me even though three hours ago I indulged in enough blood to see me through four weeks before needing to hunt again.

I pull my face away from Sabrina's hand, the feeling of the cinnamon blooded human's heart thumping within my chest cavity as the taste of her blood lingers in my mind like the phantom she mistook me for.

"Tristan, are you so against taking up a mate because of what happen—"

"Don't. Don't ever speak that name in my presence." I cut her off before the letters in the name I never wish to hear can fall from her tongue.

"I have no use for a mate, especially a fledgling that longs to have the grandson of the Beast Thron by her side. She can find someone else to rule by her side. If I am paired with the likes of her, the only beast that will be damned is me." I slam the door to my bedroom shut, buckling it at the hinges.

Agitation doesn't begin to describe how I'm feeling. This day started out promising, so how did it end up in a mess that will ultimately pit my wishes against those of the ruler of my kind?

I know if my parents have a say, I will be paired off before the next moon cycle is complete.

A throbbing ache shoots down into my fangs, the mere mention of the moon returning my mind to the female human. I retrieve her crushed phone from my pocket and set it on the counter. The water from the shower spews behind me as I empty the contents of the wallet I also confiscated during my hasty exit. Forty dollars cash, fifty-seven cents, two credit cards, a debit card, a loyalty punch card at a bagel shop, and—the corner of my mouth pulls left—her ID.

The smirk disappears when I see that it is an out-of-state license. I was hoping for an address. It would have made it easier to find her.

If the human is from out of state, does this mean she is visiting San Diego? If so, how long is she staying?

Her visiting does offer me an advantage. People go missing every day. It gives me a window of a few days before whoever will miss her will notice she isn't where she is supposed to be.

I stare down at the ID in my hand—Kinley Shea Rylan. Strasburg, Colorado. She turned nineteen years old last Thursday. Too bad that will be the last birthday she ever celebrates.

Propping the ID on the bathroom vanity mirror, something else catches my attention—a bagel store punch card. There is a scribble of ink on the backside.

I pick up the paper card and find an address written on the back, a San Diego address. It is a condo unit within walking distance of the beach and the bookstore I met her in.

Either the human is here visiting family and friends, or she is new to town. Perhaps she attends a university out here. What other human goes around carrying number two pencils in their purse?

Unless—I look down at the hole in my black shirt—she carries them for the specific reason of staking a vampire.

That thought amuses me. I can picture it, hundreds of yellow wooden pencils sharpened like an army of death she plans to bring to the one who caused her mind to fracture.

My delight soars when I recall the determination intertwined with her fear as she tried to drive her weapon of choice into my heart.

That would have been the perfect opportunity to tell her a stake to a vampire's heart won't kill them. Well, it will kill a fledgling or a weak vampire. Generally, a well-fed vampire will not turn to ash and dust if you drive a stake into their heart. The many wonders of self-regeneration.

Stepping into the shower, lukewarm water washes off the scarlet caked onto my skin. The crystal clear water turns pink before swirling down the drain. I raise my arms, the water twisting and turning as it zigzags down my blood-covered forearms.

Drip...Drip...Drip

I wrench my head toward the sound, only the sink faucet dripping isn't what I see. My lungs expand as the blood of the human with the sea-green eyes taints the air in a sinfully delicious aroma. I'm transported back to the bookstore, to the moment her life force escaped and freely slipped over her mouth before continuing on its way down her frail neck.

My gaze fastens onto the scarlet sheen gracing her bottom lip. Unlike what happened when I smeared the trickle that ran from her nose into the creases of her pink-tinged flesh, that doesn't happen. In this version, my tongue does that before I claim her mouth with mine.

Tile digs into my knees as I crash onto the shower floor without warning. Hunger like I have never felt rips through me with a vengeance I cannot stop. Every cell in me is reacting to the memory of her blood as its tang lies on my tongue. It was rich, sweet, and intoxicating.

The hunger tunneling through me reaches the backs of my eyes in a searing agony while blazing heat torches me from the inside.

I fumble my way out of the shower, gripping the counter for support as the intensity of my bloodlust reaches maximum capacity. The marble beneath my hands crumbles and I am left gasping for air I don't need.

The invasive heat begins to dissipate.

When the pain lessens to a manageable level, I am shocked by my reflection the mirror. The black in my eyes has crawled its way into the veins underneath my eyes, extending toward my angular cheekbones before disappearing deeper beneath my pale skin.

I think it is time for the human and me to have a late night therapy session. It seems only her cinnamon blood is going to offer me the fix I need.

Get ready, Kinley Shea Rylan, because I'm fairly certain you have unleashed the full extent of my ancestral blood. The Beast of the Damned is coming for you, for within the mad storm coursing through these black veins, I can feel his power flow.