Evie Burne - Bound by Blood

To J.C.

Those of you who have already read Called by Blood should not be alarmed to find Alex single in this book. The events of this book take place before those of that book.

Gregor Faustin knew his mother was up to something. Her expression was suspiciously complacent—cream fed, even. His father was in on it, whatever it was, because whenever he peeked over his newspaper he looked entirely too amused.

“My boys,” she said, surveying Gregor and his two brothers, gathered for the occasion and stuffed in the tiny living room like three lions in a birdcage. “Last night I dreamed of a bride for one of you, your perfect mate.”

With a flourish, she produced a small slip of paper from her bra and held it upraised between her white fingers. “I have her name.”

Gregor’s younger brother, Alex, blew a low whistle and elbowed him in the ribs. “Misha’s freaking.”

He and Gregor both looked over at Mikhail, who was in fact turning green at the prospect of being mated off.

“Dead man walking,” Gregor intoned between cupped hands. Alex laughed and Mikhail shot them both a poisonous glance.

Their father folded his newspaper and put it aside, a sure signal that it was time to be serious. When all eyes were upon her, Gregor’s mother crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. “Why do you assume I dreamed of a bride for Mikhail Ivanovich?” she said in her thick accent. “I did not. I saw a bride for our Gregor Ivanovich. Grisha will soon marry.”

“What?” Gregor jumped to his feet, fight or flight instincts kicking in like nobody’s business, but he was hemmed in by too much worn furniture, too many knickknacks, and his formidable brothers on either side.

“That’s crazy.” He turned back to his mother. “Why would you go and do something like that? First of all, no one does the dream thing anymore. And even if you had to, Mikhail is Eldest. Marry him off first.”

Mikhail sighed and leaned back in his chair. Gregor noted the color returning to his face. Yeah, you dodged that bullet, Misha.

“Or why not Alex?” Gregor gestured to his younger brother. “He wants to get married.” Alex was a complete sap, always had been.

His mother tapped her ashes, crossed her long legs and pointed at him with the end of her cigarette. Ma Faustin sang cabaret in Berlin in the 30’s, and still had the smoky voice and the mannerisms to match. “My son, it is not possible for you to argue with destiny. I have seen your mate.”

Mikhail rose and kissed his mother’s hand. “Congratulations on your first seeing, Mat' . I pray you will have a grandchild soon.”

Gregor considered kicking him.

Their father got up and pulled out his best scotch. “We will make a toast for your brother and his bride.” He started to hand the glasses around.

“Oh no, no.” Gregor waved his hands in front of him. “That kind of talk is way premature.”

“Is never premature to marry,” his mother said. “It is time you give up your fancy women and disco sluts—”

Alex burst out laughing, and Gregor did kick him. Alex howled.

“After all,” his mother continued, ignoring the violence, “what is a vampyr without a family?”

In ye olde tymes, Gregor would have taken the slip of paper with his intended’s name on it, sought her out that night, carried her to his castle, fucked her senseless and drained her half dry. The next night he and his new bride would have celebrated by eating their own serfs or something.

Thankfully the dark ages were over. Marriage and breeding were fine for some, but he had better things to do. Gregor ignored the paper and all the imperative that came along with it. If this woman his mother had dreamed about, this Madelena López de Victoria, was his perfect mate, then he figured she’d wait for him.

His second nightclub, Elixir, was about to open and all of his attention was focused on that. It would be the first nightclub in the U.S. created to facilitate the mixing of vampyr and humans—very expensive, and very, very exclusive. The buzz was enormous, because instead of trying to keep Elixir’s nature a secret, he’d decided to be open about it. The press knew that New York’s leading nightclub impresario was about to open a nightclub for vampires, and of course everyone thought it was a publicity stunt. That is, except the vampyr .

Costs had run to double what he had estimated, construction was behind schedule, and not surprisingly, his investors were spooky. Once Elixir was off the ground, maybe—maybe—he’d take a look at this woman, and decide what to do next.

But his family would not leave him alone.

“Grisha? It’s me.”

A week after the announcement, Alex left a message on his cell phone, knowing full well that Gregor was screening his family’s calls.

“Ma asked me to hunt down your girl since you won’t do it, you shameful bastard, and the good news is she’s local. She works for the New York Public Library, the Mid-Manhattan Branch on Fifth. Don’t you think it’s kind of interesting that Ma chose a human mate for you? Aren’t you even curious? Anyway, they have night hours. You should go to the library and check her out. Pun totally intended.”

Gregor groaned and dropped his head back on the padded leather booth that served as his office at Tangiers, his first club. Lights spun on the ceiling above, although no one was on the dance floor. It was too early. It figured Alex would be intrigued by the idea of a human mate. Alex had a soft spot for humans. Gregor didn’t care if this woman was a human or vampyr or Lady Bigfoot. He just wanted to be free.

Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was a librarian, for crap’s sake. A local librarian, too. Why couldn’t she at least be a Bulgarian librarian? Then there’d be travel delays, language difficulties, goats to trade…

A light hand trailed from his chin up to his brow. He opened his eyes and found Betsy, one of his cocktail waitresses, leaning over the booth, smiling down on him. “Why the face, Gregor?”

“My family is killing me.”

“Poor Gregor.” She stroked his chin while he enjoyed a vertiginous view of her cleavage. “You’re all worn out. Have you fed tonight?”

He pulled her into an upside down kiss and murmured, “You volunteering?”

Three weeks after the announcement of his doom, Gregor was driving out of the city to meet up with a business associate of his on Long Island, when his phone rang. Expecting a call from his assistant, Honey, he answered his phone without thinking.

“Why do you break my heart?”

Gregor banged his head against the seat back. Trapped. Just like he was trapped in the gridlock traffic. He edged the car through an intersection and accepted his fate.

“Hi, Ma.”

“Do you think I will have another dream for you sometime in the future when you think you are ready? Do you think I am a…a gum machine?”

Gregor needed to change lanes, but the asshole in the lane next to him had no intention of letting him in. He shot his hand out the window and pointed straight at the driver, giving him the look of death. That worked, because it really was the look of death. Asswipe .

All the while his mother rattled on, the soundtrack to his stress. If he did not get out of the city within the next five minutes, he’d make history by being the first vamp to ever have a coronary.

“The dream is one time only. Your future is now, Gregor Ivanovich Faustin.”

“Ma, I told you, I have no time for this—”