The Sweetest Blood

Chapter 8

Hell, even I could smell the spicy scent of blood on them from a block away. 

Talk about ballsy. 

It was like they were begging to be caught by the immortal guard.  Either that, or they assumed that just because the prince was hooked on their crap they might be able to avoid getting arrested.

My how the times were changing.  Back when I was dealing, you wouldn’t catch me flaunting my criminal activity in a royal city, for damn sure.  Then, again I had also happened to have dealt in something even more illegal than mongrel blood…

My ears pricked.  I could sense that one of the smugglers notices me among the shadows, but his eyes gleamed with recognition. 

“Damien?”

He was a scraggly fellow, with long dark hair and piercing eyes that had always reminded me of a rat’s.  As he took a step forward, he rubbed his squinty eyes as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing was real. 

I couldn’t believe it either.  He was certainly one of the long list of people  I had hoped never to see again.  But, I could play nice—pretending was my forte after all. 

“Lucien.” 

Forcing my mouth into a dark smile, I headed casually toward the motley group, taking stock of every single figure as I went. 

Most of them were your average, scrawny, bottom-of-the-barrel vampires who meant nothing to anyone.  The only member of the group would might have been able to cause some trouble was the man who called me out in the first place.

Like me, he wasn’t your run-of the mill vampire. 

You could say we were brothers of sorts…

In the estranged, adopted sort of way.  We had shared a master way back when—during a time that seemed like a million years ago now, though it could only be more like a few hundred. 

He grinned as I came closer.  Close enough to make out the traces of dried blood glued to the corners of his mouth. 

“Damien!” he exclaimed again. 

Up even closer, I could tell that his eyes were wide, and his hands shook.  He looked at me like I was a ghost—and hell, maybe I was.

From his reaction, one might think I’d been dead or something, but the truth was close enough…

“Luc,” I say simply.  “Since when are you into dealing?”

I merely pretended to be surprised.  I knew damn well what he had been up to these days—just not here. 

I may have only been in this city a few months, but I had learned over the years to keep a close watch over the locals—to recognize when a strange face was out of place.  It was a simple habit that had kept me alive for only God knew how long. 

In all that time, I hadn’t seen Lucien—and he had the sort of face that was hard to forget.

 Even in all the times his royal pain in my ass had me fetch his bloody little drugs, I didn’t remember seeing the vampire’s face among the crowd of dealers. 

At face value, that didn’t exactly mean much.  Vampiric cities weren’t the most stable places around.  People changed almost weekly…but even still.

I didn’t like it. 

Sebastian winked as if we shared some kind of dirty little secret. 

“You know me, Damien,” he chuckled.  “I do a little this and that.”  He narrowed those beady eyes and stared intently at my face.   “I think the better question is when you started buying?   I always thought you weren't the type to get into this kind of stuff…”

“I’m not,” I snapped, annoyed for some reason.  “It’s for a friend.” 

As I spoke, I reach inside my pocket and withdrew a wad of cash, courtesy of High Royal dickwad, himself. 

“A very special friend,” I added, slapping the money into his palm. 

Sebastian’s eyes went comically wide.

“Oh.”  I could tell that he wanted to ask questions—but, like a good dealer, he knew better. 

“What can I get you?” he stammered nervously, flickering through the wad of bills with a dirty thumbnail.    It was alot.  Even my well-greased palms had itched at the amount.  “The next shipment’s not for a few hours but I can—”

“All the better.”  I smile.  This night was shaping up already.  “I want in.”

Mister Princeling didn’t exactly order me to go out and hand-pick his fix directly, but I was itching to do something to break out of the good little lapdog mold.

Even round up a few mutts for the slaughter.

What better way to break out of a funk?

“Are you serious?”  Lucien seemed a little too suspicious for my liking, but in an instant his gaze smoothed over into a pleased mask.  “Little Damie getting back in the game?”

“Something like that,” I grumbled quickly before he could get any cute ideas.  “I’m just here to make sure you don’t fuck it up; that price is for a pure blooded Lycan only.”

“Of course.”  Lucien didn’t even seem insulted that I was outwardly doubting his skill.  “Anything for a valued costumer such as your…friend.”

I let the term slip past without comment. 

In a few months time everyone would be able to see firsthand just how close 'friends' the prince and I were.  Until then, I could keep my mouth shut.

“You said the next shipment is in a few hours?”

Lucien shrugged.  “I was just about to send some boys out to retrieve it.  It’s funny,” he added on a gruff laugh.  “I was sure we’d just have to scrounge up some average dogs, but I just got a call from an old contact of mine…”

“And?”  I pressed.  While the prince wasn’t exactly picky when it came to dog blood, he had given specific order for a pure blood.

As lame as it sounded, I wasn’t in the mood to withstand a royal temper tantrum.

“Don’t worry.”  Lucien laughed as if my unease was funny.  “The call was for about a pure blooded lycan, fresh for the picking…”  He paused meaningfully, and like a good rat, I took the bait.

“And?”

“And who better than to retrieve it than one of the best runners in the business?”

“Me.”  It wasn’t a question, but speaking gave me the chance to mull it over.  Risk my neck, plucking a pure blood from their territory...

To even consider it I would have to be either crazy or suicidal.

Good thing that I was both.

I didn’t hesitate or give myself a chance to run over the logistics. I had my chance to stretch my legs and I took it without so much as a second thought.

They didn’t call me a cool-hearted bastard for nothing.

Looking Lucien dead in the eye I held out my hand for him to take in a rough handshake.

 “I’m in.”

But, of course, like a good runner, I would demand half.  

Fair is fair.