CHAPTER 1
Standing on the balcony, Ronan’s eyes scanned the bodies writhing below him. The only thing he found enticing about the vast amount of flesh on display was breaking the necks of every person in the club. He tried to shake the impulse off, but his fangs throbbed in his gums at the thought, and it dug deeper into him with every passing second.
His entire existence had revolved around one mission: protect the innocents of this world whether they be human or vampire. It was a mission he’d followed for over a thousand years, but with every passing day, the bloodlust growing within him dragged him closer to the edge he’d seen so many other vampires plummet over.
Some of those other vampires he’d believed to be far better and stronger than him, yet they’d given into their more sinister impulses. And somehow, he remained and now stood as the oldest vampire in existence, not just within his close-knit group of men, but throughout all the vampires.
Every day he woke, he questioned if that day would be the day he fell too and became the thing he despised the most, a Savage. He didn’t try to tell himself that he would never give in. He’d done that for many years, but this past year he’d come to realize it may be inevitable that he succumbed to the bloodlust beckoning him. If he didn’t kill himself before that happened, he would start to kill the innocents he protected.
It was the killing himself first part that would be tricky. Savage vampires thrived on the blood of innocents, but they weren’t stupid or lost to the madness of the death they delivered. No, many of them remained intelligent and calculating, and they didn’t want to die. A vampire who gave himself over to their inhumanity simply saw nothing wrong with what they were doing. The blood they consumed warped them into believing a vampire’s true nature was to kill and they were only living the way vampires were supposed to live.
No matter how much he despised Savages, if he gave in, he would most likely come to believe that too.
Perhaps they were right, but Ronan refused to believe vampires were meant to be little more than animals who ruthlessly slaughtered the weaker masses.
However, it didn’t matter what he believed or what he didn’t, he was teetering toward the Savage side. When he went over, would his men, or even multiple vampires, be capable of taking him out as he had taken out so many of those who had fallen before him?
That was a question he dreaded he would find out the answer to soon. The fine line he walked became thinner with every passing day, and with every death he delivered to the Savages amongst his kind. The thrill of killing the vampires he hunted had once satisfied him, but that was centuries ago. Now, it barely kept the demon part of him at bay.
The emptiness within him would never be filled. There wasn’t enough blood, wasn’t enough death to begin to satisfy him anymore. He faced the same bleak concept that the many who had fallen before him also faced: an eternity of nothing, or the possibility that giving into their more savage nature would finally fill the emptiness inside.
For some vampires, it hadn’t been a difficult choice.
How much more time do I have?
His hands tightened on the railing, twisting over the cool metal as his teeth clamped together and his fangs slid free to press against the back of his lips.
I will not be one of them!
He told himself this every day when he opened his eyes and the emptiness greeted him, but it sounded hollow then, and it did again now. Even amongst those who were born vampires, the purebreds such as himself, he was an anomaly and stronger than the rest. The turned vampires battled their darker natures too, but not as badly as the purebreds did. Because turned vamps were human before becoming vampires, they had more humanity in them than purebreds did.
If he gave himself over to the darkness, he would never know this sensation of being torn in two again, and he would slaughter hundreds, possibly thousands, before being stopped, if he could be stopped.
No matter what, he couldn’t lose control like that. He didn’t like humans overly much, but there were rules, and they must be obeyed if the vampire race was to continue undetected. Vampires were far stronger than humans, but they were also vastly outnumbered by mortals.
Fear would have humans turning on them, slaughtering them, and studying them like lab rats. Some, if not many of the mortals, may try to become vampires, which would create more Savages. If such a thing happened, the vampire food supply would be depleted and the world would fall into chaos.
The rules had to be strictly followed.
This had been instilled into him from the moment of his birth. His parents had made sure he knew he would one day lead and keep the vampire and human races protected. That he would become a Defender, a vampire who protected the innocents and made sure the rules were obeyed. Things may be far different now than when his parents had been alive, but that mission still drove him every day.
Beside him, Declan shifted his stance as he glanced at Ronan from the corner of his eye. Declan’s eyes were so pure gray, they appeared silver as he surveyed the scene beneath them. He ran a hand through his dark auburn hair before tugging at the ends.
At six hundred years of age, Declan was the second oldest of their group, younger than only him. They’d been fighting together since Declan had reached maturity at twenty-four. Ronan had known Declan for his entire life, yet he still didn’t know all of Declan’s secrets.
He did know that he’d never seen his friend so apprehensive about a possible kill before, and he didn’t understand it. He’d expected Declan to be eager to destroy Joseph. Ronan suspected Declan’s apprehension was because his father had been the last Defender to give into his Savage nature, and it was stirring up old memories, rather than the fact they were now hunting one of their own.
Joseph had been a powerful fighter and ally for nearly fifty years. However, he and Declan had been like two dogs circling each other whenever they were in the same room. Declan’s more easygoing nature had abraded with Joseph’s austere personality.
In truth, Ronan had never liked Joseph either and never considered him a friend as he did the other Defenders who worked with him, but Joseph had been a strong fighter and had made it all the way through the rigorous training every purebred that worked with him had to endure.
Ronan had seen little of Joseph over the years as he’d run the training facility for turned and purebred vamps who wished to hunt Savages. Months ago, Joseph had given in to his bloodlust and become a Savage. Ronan had been trying to track him down ever since, but Joseph knew how they operated and how to fly under their radar. Not even Brian, a turned vamp who sometimes helped them to track down Savage vamps, could pinpoint Joseph’s location, until now.
Brian had called a few hours ago to let him know he’d gotten a track on Joseph in this area of Providence, Rhode Island. This club was the most likely place to attract Joseph. A club full of drunk humans was a homing beacon for vampires on the prowl. It was easy to prey on the humans here, and if Ronan got the chance, he would feed here tonight.
Feeding could wait; for now, they were on the hunt for something else.
His eyes swept the dance floor once more. Unable to take the flashing lights in places such as this, he’d put on a pair of dark sunglasses before entering, but the pulse of the flashing lights still made his head pound. The thumping beat of the music vibrated the floor beneath his feet. His gaze landed on the DJ. He ran his tongue over his fangs as he contemplated tearing the man’s throat out to end the annoying beat.