Free Bite at First Sight by Brooklyn Ann Page A

circumstances and reasoning behind your decision to take this mortal into your custody. After our deliberation, we have decided that you shall have thirty nights to decide whether to dispense with this female or to submit a petition to bring her into our fold as one of your people.
    We trust you will use your wisdom on this inconvenient matter and anticipate your response as soon as you’ve determined your course of action.
    The letter was signed by all twelve Elders.
    “ Cristo .” With his good hand, Rafe crumbled the letter as if the action could destroy its dire edict. Blood trickled into his mouth like an ominous portent.
    * * *
    Clayton Edmondson paced the dusty floor of the abandoned warehouse, eyeing the gathering of vampires before him. Only thirty had deigned to arrive. For now that would have to be enough for his cause. If all went to plan, he would no longer be second-in-command. No, he would be Lord of London and that disfigured, pathetic excuse for a vampire, Rafael Villar, would be knocked from his throne and vanquished.
    Bile rose in his throat at the thought of the Spanish cur. After decades of kowtowing to the Duke of Burnrath, London’s true Lord, Clayton had only wrangled the position of third-in-command. Despite having only one fully functioning arm, Villar had been named second. The insult had never ceased to rankle, but soon it would be avenged.
    Clayton surveyed his audience, allowing them to build up anticipation. He’d been a skilled orator since his mortal days on the stage. Proper delivery of his lines had never been more crucial.
    Clearing his throat, he gave the assembly one more piercing stare before he began. “Blood drinkers of London, I have gathered you here today to bring attention to a grievous error made by our absent Lord. An error that, as members of this prestigious city, we must rectify if we hope to maintain not only our dignity, but perhaps even our safety.”
    His announcement was greeted with wide eyes and curious murmurs. Clayton hid a smile of triumph. He had them in his palm.
    He cleared his throat. “Though Ian surely meant well, I can no longer ignore the fact that he may well have brought ruin down upon us all when he put the Spaniard, Rafael Villar, in charge during his absence.”
    Most of the vampires nodded in agreement. However, a few exchanged skeptical glances. Clayton paused and straightened his spine. This would be the tricky part.
    “I truly wanted to believe that Villar was a wise choice to lead us. Despite his foreign title, he lived as humbly as the rest of us. I believed he would do a better job looking after the interests of those of our unprivileged standing, which at times the Duke of Burnrath, being a blue blood, could not help but overlook.” Heaving a mournful sigh, he met their gazes. “Tragically, I was wrong. From the moment Villar was declared interim Lord, received his wealth, and moved into the duke’s palace, he has taken his place among the Quality and thus seems to think he’s above the lot of us!”
    Another vampire stepped forward. “I wouldn’t say he’s all bad. He’s provided many of us with gainful employment and generous wages.”
    Clayton hid a grimace with a stiff nod of acknowledgment. There were bound to be naysayers. He anticipated such, and now he finally had the means to subdue them.
    “That is true, but now I must tell you what the Spaniard has done.” Pausing until he was certain he had their undivided attention, Clayton formed his features into a mask of regret for his next line. “Do you recall the several instances in which intruders were rambling about the St. Pancras cemetery? Intruders that may very well have been vampire hunters?”
    Again, the majority nodded. A tentative voice inquired softly, “Wasn’t Lord Villar supposed to have looked into the matter?”
    Clayton infused his tone with sympathy. “Of course you all remember this frightening time. After all, a number of you take your day rest within