“Yes, just like I’ll destroy you if you don’t get out of my life.”

Xander’s eyes didn’t show any fear at Thomas’s threat. “There are many of us. He created an army. More are coming each day. Collectively, we’re strong. You’ll soon feel it. You’re nearly as strong as he. You can feel us already, can’t you?”

Thomas shook his head, trying to deny Xander’s claim, even though he knew it was true. He could feel the power coming from Xander. And now he also realized that he must have gotten a faint whiff of it from the four vampires he’d encountered earlier in the night. “I’m stronger than Kasper. Because I can resist the evil in me. He couldn’t.”

“Not all power is evil.”

Thomas scoffed. Kasper hadn’t done a single thing in his life that wasn’t considered evil.

He’d been rotten to the core. “Could have fooled me! If you believe that, then you obviously didn’t see the atrocities Kasper committed with his power. You didn’t see the pain he inflicted just because he could. Don’t confuse me with Kasper. I’m nothing like him.”

The stranger stepped closer. “It doesn’t matter what you think you are, or what lies you’re telling yourself. Over time, his blood will take over. It will make you into what you’re supposed to be. You’ll accept the dark power within you, and you’ll come back to the throne he built.”

Xander’s words were spoken with such determination that a shiver ran down Thomas’s spine. He fought against the sensation of dread that tried to engulf his body.

“Throne?” Thomas expelled a bitter laugh. “I want no throne that’s built on death and destruction and the tears of women and children. I want no part of it.”

“You have no choice!”

Thomas grabbed Xander’s throat and slammed him against the wall of the building behind him so fast, the stranger couldn’t even blink. “I have a choice. I have free will. And I’m exercising it. You hear me? I’ve made my choice the day I left Kasper. He knew it, he just couldn’t accept it.” He released the man and took a step back. “Now leave. I never want to see you on my turf again. None of you. Leave this town, or I’ll be coming after you.”

Thomas turned in vampire speed and jumped onto his motorcycle, racing away without looking back. He would never do the things Kasper had done. Evil things . . .

London, England, 1897

Thomas let the entrance door to the mansion he shared with Kasper and a few others of their kind snap in behind him, shutting out the chilly night air. Jeeves, the butler, a spindly man with a crooked nose, took the cloak from his shoulders while Thomas stripped off his gloves and tossed them onto the table in the foyer.

He’d been out on his own, feeding, since Kasper had said that he needed to attend to some business. “When Master Kasper returns, have a bath prepared to our rooms.”

The butler folded the cloak over his forearm and bowed. “But, sir, Master Kasper is already home.”

“Impossible! He was on his way to Whitechapel when I left him. You must be mistaken.”

Jeeves straightened his shoulders. “Master Kasper often surprises us by appearing unexpectedly. Maybe he simply changed his plans.”

Thomas wrinkled his forehead. The butler was right. Kasper made a habit of showing up when and where he was least expected. He seemed to be ubiquitous. It was at times irritating and unsettling.

“Where is he now?” Thomas demanded.

“Downstairs. But he asked not to be disturbed.”

Thomas’s hackles went up. Was Kasper having an assignation with another man? While Thomas was fully aware that Kasper fucked whomever he wanted to, whether female or male, the thought that these trysts happened under the roof they shared was something Thomas couldn’t stomach. They had agreed that whatever fornication happened outside of their relationship would take place outside of their home.

Thomas’s fangs lengthened and a low snarl ripped from his lips. Jeeves took a step back. The human was aware that he worked for vampires, and had in fact been in Kasper’s employ for many years, easily controlled by mind control and generous wages. He was loyal to Kasper.

“Who’s with him?”

Jeeves lowered his lids halfway. “Nobody, sir.”

“You’re a worse liar than I am, Jeeves,” he replied and strode toward the door that led into the basement of the building.

“Sir, please, the master . . . ” he called after him, but Thomas ignored him, taking two steps at a time to descend into the cellar.