Chapter One

If there was anything about Zahara which could be considered an asset, no one could accuse her of not having a sense of humor.

Although President of the IVC, she didn’t take her position too seriously and considered it a bit silly to sweat about the little things in life.

A beautiful woman who appeared to be no more than her early twenties though her fashion sense and the way she carried herself belied her youthful appearance—she possessed dusky skin, liquid brown eyes, perfect cheekbones, a feminine Roman nose and slightly full lips. Her face was lightly made up and her petite, slim body was clothed in a black Versace cocktail dress and matching Manolo Blahnik stilettos.

She was just several days away from a very important meeting in Las Vegas yet there she was stuck in the city of London. It wasn’t all bad: she had an excellent companion and one who was bound to keep her busy, at least for a few days.

Ludvig Neville-Zhukov was quite the adversary indeed, especially when one considered his more than adequate bedroom skills.

He was good looking with his mother’s gorgeous French features yet milk-white skin, pale blue eyes and dark brown hair which had been inherited from his father.

As a genetically modified vampire—GenMods for short—he was not raised with his parents but rather in a lab where he was nothing but a freak who was continuously studied, poked and prodded. They were an arch prototype and were supposed to eventually lead the top of the vampire food chain but something had gone wrong.

Zahara was no scientist but a vampire that was damn near indestructible yet had no self-control and a sociopath personality wouldn’t lead the vampire community anywhere but into the ground.

The creatures were given their freedom and the secret of the GenMods was buried in vampire lore and turned into a good old fashioned urban legend to scare the gullible mortals. As far as they were concerned, Ludvig and his kind didn’t exist.

It was easy for them to hide amongst vampires as they looked more or less like other vamps with one small problem: regardless their ethnicity, they lost all pigment in their skin to the point of becoming albinos and their eyes were in a constant pale state regardless whether they were aroused or not.

The situation could have been a nightmare but as GenMods weren’t exactly daytime creatures, many of the tell-tale signs were overlooked by most except the fellow vamps of their community.

GenMods were ostracized, declared persons no regular vamp would fraternize with and thus they self-segregated. Although they often resided in the same cities and countries as other vamps, they had their own places to congregate and tended to mix amongst themselves.

Zahara was a live and let live type. One of the people she loved most in the world was a woman and her husband’s sister, Andrine. Labels didn’t bother her—rather the people who threw them around so foolishly did however.

She’d met him at his favorite table at his favorite pub GenMod vamps erroneously named Bloody Tuesday, as if that were the only day of the week vamps—genetically modified or not—got their drink on.

He drank a GenMod Bloody Mary which was a mixture of Sang Pur, Hpnotiq and Grey Goose vodka.

She ordered a plain old Sang Pur O Negative as like most run-of-the-mill vamps, she could not tolerate alcohol without a certain designed vamp pill and besides, Zahara had always gotten off on good old fashioned violence any day of the week. It was definitely her drug of choice and one she enjoyed quite thoroughly.

“Well, hello, beautiful,” Ludvig greeted coolly. “What brings you to this shit hole, President?”

Zahara laughed out loud before she sipped from the Sang Pur which had quickly been delivered and set before her on the scarred wood table. “You, of course.”

A dark eyebrow shot up curiously. “Why, may I ask? Don’t you have some sort of shindig coming up in Vegas next week?”

“Actually, I’m supposed to leave in a few days.” She brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Do you know what is going on and why this is taking place at all? Mikkel has finally found Manon and I think he wants to marry her.”

Ludvig sniggered out loud, highly amused by the situation at hand. “What do you mean he wants to marry her? He doesn’t know her and even knowing what we know about her heritage, it might just be for nothing. There is absolutely nothing special about half-breeds and I wish the Council would do something about them being fawned over all the time.”

Zahara swigged from her Sang Pur. “No, she’s different. I can feel it. She can change everything and that is why I need your help.”

“My help with what exactly?”

“How much would it cost to have her assassinated?”

“Assassinated?”

She slammed the bottle down on the table. “Will you stop repeating me like a goddamn parrot? Yes, assassinated. You won’t be able to do it in Vegas as that is too risky and I can’t have the Council seeing you and I together in any shape or form. If they knew we were talking, I could lose my position. You people are supposed to stay hidden and on the outskirts of our society. I can’t be contradictory and be seen with you if there is an uneasy truce between the vamps and the GenMods.”

Ludvig glared at her with icy blue eyes though his fangs did not emerge from his eye-teeth. “Listen, as much as I would like to help you, I’m not hurting for money. Dominique and Filipp set me up with a nice little trust fund before they realized I would never be the son they were promised by that freak, Mengele. However, if I could barter for your services, perhaps we can work something out...” he trailed off.

“What is it exactly you want? I’m not a fucking mind reader—well, at least not with GenMods.”

He smiled slightly. “This skin disease we suffer from...it’s annoying and brings a lot of attention to us. If there was some way to reverse it or perhaps just give us some pigmentation, I have some very fierce warriors who would jump at the chance of killing this Manon bitch. Of course it would have to be on European territory. We can’t risk going to the Americas. I would think the reason would be obvious.”

She smiled back in return. “I’m not sure we should be discussing a situation like that here out in the open. I realize this is a vamp establishment but there are certain…things I need to tell you and I don’t want the whole world to know.”

Ludvig nodded wordlessly. “It can wait. Right now, I need some female company and you…what are you in the mood for?”

“It makes no difference as they will serve as nothing but an evening snack. I have my companion here in the City. I will call her as soon as we get back to your place.”

His eyes shined coldly. “Let me guess: Andrine? How do we know this won’t get back to Mikkel? The last thing I need is for him to know about our plan—”

“Don’t worry about that. She and Mikkel aren’t that close so she isn’t going to tell him anything. She might be his sister but she shares no love loss for her brother. The only person she really misses is Kristoff. I think we all do except that son of a bitch.”

“Well, it looks like there are no feelings of loyalty there even though he has been here for you all this time…sexually, that is.”

“It certainly wasn’t because he thought he was doing me any favors. He would rather be with anyone other than me.”

“Okay, enough with the pity party. I’m not good with people feeling sorry for themselves and I abhor it even more when those types of feelings are shown in front of me.”

Zahara finished her Sang Pur and stood. “Let’s go then.”

“Fine,” Ludvig responded before he finished his Bloody Mary and set the empty glass on the scarred wood.

***

He could remember very little about his childhood but he clearly remembered it being in a place where a laboratory was nearby. It seemed like a normal child’s room, albeit, one he shared with Evald, the genetic offspring of Andrine Damgaard and Klaus Engel.

They were both GenMods and once the hated Mengele discovered there were “issues” with the prototype, they were locked away without any contact with their parents.

He and Evald had been best friends for as long as they could remember. Where as Ludvig possessed a brutal handsomeness, even as a child and it was obvious his looks would follow him into adulthood, Evald was beautiful in an almost ethereal and girlish way.

He possessed soft flaxen blond hair and the most gorgeous blue-gray eyes, gorgeous features and pale, milky-white skin.

Where as Ludvig looked sickly with such pale skin Evald’s seemed to suit him and the fine blue veins which could be seen underneath the delicate flesh.

This was a bad evening—they both knew that. It was testing day, experimentation day. They would be cut up and bloodied before the end of the night; a few Rhesus monkeys would be provided to them to feed off before they would both be locked back into their prison.

“We can try to escape,” Ludvig finally said in a voice which filled the silence albeit reluctantly.

Evald looked up at him. They were both thirteen years of age in vampire years but they looked like grown men. Vampire children grew much faster than human children. Why they needed to wait until they were eighteen to be able to hunt on their own made no sense. They could both defend themselves and besides, they were a new prototype. If anyone could survive the wilderness, it would be them.

Ludvig sat next to Evald and slipped an arm around his neck. “I know you are afraid of Mengele but he won’t do anything to you. I promise.”

“I know but I am actually worried more about you then I am worried about myself.”

“And why is that? If anyone can take the hard knocks, you know it is I. Evald, Mengele holds a very special…kinship with you. You’re one of his favorites. If anything goes wrong, promise me you’ll make sure I am the one at fault. I tricked you and you had no idea. This way, you won’t face Mengele’s wrath.”

Evald glanced at his best friend with frightened blue eyes before he nodded his head.

“I love you so much…you will never know how much I adore you. Promise me once we get out of here we will never be apart,” Evald admonished softly.

Ludvig kissed his lips quickly and pressed their foreheads against one another. “We won’t. I promise.”

***

“Taking a trip down memory lane?” Andrine wondered out loud though she failed to greet Ludvig with anything other than a cursory nod.

Ludvig sat on the sofa and snaked a hand around his mortal companion, a vapid-looking blonde with an awful Cockney accent and although she swore she was of age, she was tall with the body of a pubescent boy.

“Not particularly. I was just thinking about Evald, that’s all.”

Andrine sat across from him and slipped an arm around Zahara’s waist. She was a gorgeous woman with perfect features, platinum blonde hair, and intoxicating blue eyes. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties though she was well over one thousand years old.

“Tell me, how is he? I haven’t heard from him in ages.”

“Well, he’s still inseparable with Zed, unfortunately.”

“Now there is a name I haven’t heard in awhile,” Zahara mused coldly. “How is my son? Is he still wreaking havoc in Bruges?”

Ludvig poured himself a shot of Grey Goose and downed it quickly. “Don’t you or Mikkel call him at all?”

“Zed is an accident both Zahara and Mikkel would like to forget exists. Remember, all of you lot were designed in test tubes. Chiyoko thought it would be a laugh to combine Zahara’s egg with Mikkel’s sperm, the same way she paired one of my eggs with Klaus’ sperm. Very few of you GenMods were actually wanted by your genetic parents. Consider yourself lucky you came from a union that was true and binding and lasting. Dominique and Filipp were devastated when they found out they couldn’t keep you,” Andrine explained calmly.

“Point taken. The fact is Zed and Evald have left Bruges and are now in Amsterdam. He wants us to live a life of sheer debauchery and on top of that, he desires a polyamorous relationship. Call me old fashioned but I don’t want to fuck Zed and I don’t want to be in a relationship with him. I’ve always adored Evald but if he has taken Zed as a life mate then there is nothing left between us and our relationship is as dead as we are.”

Zahara stood and grabbed another Sang Pur before she flopped back onto the sofa. “Where are all your high-brow morals getting you? You’re here in London, absolutely miserable; meanwhile, he’s gone any way and won’t be coming back. Wouldn’t it just be easier to accept the polyamorous relationship and take it for what it is worth? It won’t be forever. Soon, Evald will be tired of it and he will have to choose. You’re making this into a much bigger deal than it has to be.”

“Perhaps but then again you wanted a favor from me and I am underneath no obligation to fulfill it if the only thing you’re going to do is bring me grief. You might want to think before you speak.”

“And please don’t allow yourself to forget you are in the presence of greatness,” Andrine purred, emphasizing a Danish accent she’d never bothered to lose. “We were around killing and fucking before you were even thought about being made in that Petri dish by Mengele. I thought you said there would be some entertainment—I’m starving and what I want isn’t in a bottle of Sang Pur.”

Ludvig followed their stares to his female companion for the night. “Don’t worry, I keep my promises. I’ll have my friend there call up a few mortal acquaintances and your appetite will be sated.”

“Too late,” Zahara murmured before she stood and walked over to the skinny bleached blonde.

Her movements were subtle yet predatory at the same time. The human morsel never knew what hit her as Zahara crouched in for the kill. Her eyes paled and her fangs unsheathed; the blonde tried to get away but she was too slow.

“Ludvig, babe—”

“He can’t save you.” She grabbed the blonde’s wrists and sank her fangs into her jugular without pretense or hesitation.

The blood rushed into her mouth and Zahara kept her lips pressed down, slowly feeling life as it drained from her body. Once she had her fill, she threw the blonde to the ground and walked over to Andrine. They kissed each other passionately as Ludvig ran over to the blonde.

“She isn’t dead! She can still be saved!”

Andrine broke the kiss with Zahara and looked at the young man with dead blue eyes. “Well, then save her.”

“If I save her then she’ll turn into a GenMod—surely you know that!”

“We know everything there is to know about you, Ludvig,” Zahara murmured as she tore open Andrine’s expensive blouse and began to devour her breasts.

He was at a loss. Should he watch the show? It was a great show after all with these two beautiful women locked together in a bewitching embrace, all long limbs and soft female parts—or should he save Xanadu? He couldn’t believe that was her name for surely English people wouldn’t use such wacky names to christen their offspring.

Ludvig did what he knew he must and only prayed he was making the right decision as he bit down into his wrist and allowed the warm blood to flood his dying companion’s mouth.

He hadn’t made a GenMod ever and surely this was the right time after all, he needed a companion too and since Evald had made himself unavailable, this one would have to do.