At the disruption, Yakut lifted his head from his feeding and looked up. So did his blood Host...
Renata.
No fucking way.
She was blood-bonded? Could she possibly be a Breedmate to this monster?
All of the accusations Nikolai was prepared to hurl at Sergei Yakut died a sudden death in his throat. He stared, his already roiling Breed senses ratcheting tighter at the sight of the female's blood on Yakut's lips and dripping from his huge fangs. The scent of it carried across the room, slamming hard into Niko's brain. He wouldn't have expected such an odd contrast to her chilly demeanor, but her blood scent was a warm, heady mix of sandalwood and fresh spring rain. Soft, feminine. Arousing.
Hunger coiled in Nikolai's gut, a visceral reaction that he had to fight damn hard to hold back. He told himself it was simply his Breed nature rearing up. There were few among his kind that could resist the siren's call of an open vein, but when his eyes locked on to Renata's unblinking gaze across the distance, a new heat flared to life inside him. Even stronger than the primal thirst to feed.
He wanted her.
Even while she was lying beneath another male, allowing that male to drink from her, Nikolai hungered for her with a ferocity that staggered him. Bound by blood to another or not, Renata made Niko burn to have her.
Which, by even his own flexible code of honor, lowered him to something close to Yakut's despicable level.
Niko had to mentally shake himself loose of the disturbing realization, yanking his focus back to the trouble at hand. "You've got a serious problem," he told the Gen One vampire, hardly able to contain his contempt. "Actually, I'm guessing you've got about three dozen of them, rotting out there in your woods."
Yakut said nothing, but the glow of his transformed, amber gaze darkened to one of defiance. A low growl curled out of him before he turned his head back to his interrupted meal. Yakut's tongue slid from between his lips to lick at the punctures he'd put in Renata's neck, sealing the wounds closed.
Only then, as Yakut's tongue swept her skin, did she look away from Niko. He thought he saw something quiet, something resigned, pass across her face in the seconds before Yakut stood up and released her. Once free, Renata moved to the corner of the room, tugging her clingy shirt back to some semblance of order. She was still dressed in her clothes from before, still barefoot as she had been outside.
She must have come straight here after what happened between Niko and her.
Had she run to Yakut for protection? Or for simple comfort?
Jesus.
Niko felt like even more of an ass when he thought about kissing her the way he had. If she was blood-bonded to Sergei Yakut, that bond was sacred, intimate...exclusive. No wonder she'd reacted as she had. Nikolai kissing her would have been insult and degradation both. But he wasn't there to apologize now - not to Renata or her apparent mate.
Nikolai turned a hard look on the vampire. "How long have you been hunting humans, Yakut?"
The Gen One grunted, smiling.
"I found the holding pens in the barn. I found the bodies. Men, women...children." Nikolai hissed a curse, unable to contain his disgust. "You've been running a goddamn blood club out here. From the looks of it, I'd say you've been at this for years." "What of it?" Yakut asked blithely. He didn't even attempt a respectable show of denial.
And in the corner of the room, Renata remained silent, her eyes rooted on Niko but showing no shock at all.
Ah, Christ. So, she knew about it too.
"You sick fuck," he said, looking back to Yakut now. "All of you are sick. You won't be allowed to continue this. It stops right here, right now. There are laws - "
The Gen One laughed, his voice warped from the transformation to his more savage side. "I am the law here, boy. No one, not the Darkhavens and their vaunted Enforcement Agency - not even the Order - has any say in my affairs. I invite anyone to come here and try to tell me otherwise."
The threat was clear. Despite the fact that everything honorable and just screamed for Nikolai to launch at the smug son of a bitch with weapons flying, striking to kill, this was no ordinary vampire. Sergei Yakut was Gen One. Not only gifted with strength and powers exponentially greater than Niko's or any other later-generation Breed, but a member of a rare class of individual. There were only a few Gen Ones in existence - fewer still, following the rash of recent assassinations.
As abhorrent as the outlawed practice of blood clubs was among Breed society, attempting to kill a first-generation vampire was an even bigger offense. Nikolai couldn't raise a hand against the bastard, no matter how badly he wanted to.
And Yakut knew as much. He wiped his mouth with the hem of his dark tunic, dabbing at Renata's sweet-scented blood.
"Hunting is in our nature, boy." Yakut's voice was deadly calm, utterly confident, as he strode toward Nikolai. "You are young, born of weaker stock than some of us. Maybe your blood is so diluted with humanity, you simply cannot understand the need in its purest form. Maybe if you had a taste of the hunt, you'd be less sanctimonious of those of us who prefer to live as we were meant to be."
Niko gave a slow shake of his head. "Blood clubs aren't about hunting. They're about slaughter. You can shovel your bullshit however deep you want it, but in the end, it's still bullshit. You're an animal. What you really need is a muzzle and a choke collar. Someone needs to shut you down."
"And you think that you or the Order is up for that task?"
"Do you think we're not?" Niko challenged, some reckless part of him hoping the Gen One would give him a reason to draw his weapons. He didn't expect he'd walk away from a confrontation with the elder vampire, but he sure as hell wouldn't go down without a damned vicious fight.