“We do not speak in raised voices here. It’s a holy place, don’t you know?” His thin lips hooked at the edges.
Cazantian reached underneath the table and procured a small cage. He set it down, before opening the door and snatching out a large rat. He casually snapped the rodent’s neck and slid the fresh carcass across the table towards Arantay. “My gift to you, hybrid. You have not fed since you arrived in this city, I can tell.”

Arantay looked disgusted with himself as much as he did Cazantian.

“Brother, we have a human present, let’s not act like animals.” Nalia took the rat and sliced its neck with red-lacquered fingernail, then squeezed the blood out of the corpse and into a glass, which she offered to Arantay.

A seductive smile splashed across Nalia’s face when she handed him the cup. Her hand lingered on Tay’s, until he pulled it away.

“Your touch is almost warm compared to ours,” she said breathlessly. “I would very much like to…study you further, Elfpire.”

“And I would very much like to drink from you. I’ve never sampled elf blood. Though I suspect your fluid is too tainted for our lips, we cannot drink from one another,” Cazantian finished ruefully.

Arantay ignored them both. He appeared to be consumed by melancholy as he stared deep into his glass. Tay tipped back his head and drained the glass in one gulp, clearly wanting it over as quickly as possible. Brooke knew he’d need the drink to help his body heal from all it had been through tonight, but she wished it didn’t torture Arantay to do it.

“Ah, the Elfpire does not like to savour his blood,” Cazantian said. “He is one of them, who whine and whine about their gift for eternity. It would be so much better for them if they just let their vampiric take over, embraced what they really are.”

“I see no need in revelling in what I have to do to survive.” Arantay grimaced, placing the glass back on the table.

“Yet you cannot deny your own cravings for the blood,” Cazantian countered. “Why, if I were you I would have long ago tasted the sweet nectar of the piece behind you.”

A low growl began at the back of Arantay’s throat, but Brooke stepped in front of him.

“You know, I’ve never slain a vampire,” she told Cazantian. “But talk about me like that again, and I just might start.”

“Apologize Cazantian,” said Malian.

The other vampires whispered with one another across the table and Nalia giggled.

Cazantian’s eyes challenged Malian’s own for a moment, before flicking back to Brooke with a generous smile.

“My sincere apologies, human. As Malian said, no harm shall befall you here.” He inclined his head.

“She has a name.” Arantay’s tone was stiff.

Brooke realised this was where she should introduce herself.