My Vampire and I Vol 3: Blood Resurrection by J. P. Bowie

renegade vampires led by Darius, a one-time friend of his, but who later became his arch enemy. It was a surprise to me therefore, when I came face-to-face with Darius for the first time. He was so very different from what I had imagined. Marcus had said he was fair of face, and in that he was right. But apart from his comeliness, the man had an allure that was hard to resist. I later found out that he employed magic to ensnare those he wanted – magic he had learned from the Wizard Brotherhood survivors, in exchange for their lives.
    I have never been sure of why he pursued me so lustily, for I had heard it rumoured he preferred mortal men and women. But the taking of a mortal for a lover was against the Dark Forces’ laws—laws ratified by Darius himself, many years before. At first, I was flattered by his attention, drawn in by his beguiling smile and honeyed voice. He was careful not to malign Marcus in front of me, even though it must have galled him to know I revered the man he hated above all others.
For a time, close to a year, we travelled Europe together, and I have to admit that the time I spent in his company was never a hardship. He could be light-hearted on occasion, witty and extremely generous. In his more serious moments, he told me that the pressure of Blood Resurrection
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    leading the Dark Forces and dealing with the petty squabbles some of his men would bring to him, could often become more than he wanted to bear. For that reason, he had found himself two secret hideaways where he could, for a time, rest and renew his vigour. One of these places was in Paris, the other in Berlin. He took me to visit both of them, and fine, luxurious places they were. When we were together, we spent more time in his home in Paris than anywhere else, and as every lover knows, there is no more romantic city in the world.
Completely under his spell, and in love with the city, I was easy prey for Darius, and again, I have to be honest and say that his lovemaking was not repugnant to me—far from it.
     
Not as tender as Marcus, Darius could be demanding and at times rough in his dominance.
    Once, he hurt me badly, despite my protests and urging him to stop. Afterward, he was remorseful and apologised over and over for his coarse behaviour, and I was only too eager to forgive him—then. Of course, eventually I came to realise that what I felt for him was not real but was induced by the magical powers he had inherited from the Wizards. When we were apart, his allure lessened, and in those moments of clearer thought, I began to wonder why on earth I associated with the enemy of my most treasured friend.
    My decision to leave him came after one evening when we hunted together for the first time. Vampires, by nature, prefer to hunt alone, unless they are partnered. Some are even territorial, threatening those who would encroach on what they perceive as their terrain. This particular night, though, found Darius and me leaving a club in Paris—Le Petit Mal—
frequented only by vampires.
     
As we walked through the Tuillery Gardens and I admired the lamp-lit beauty of the park, he remarked that he had not fed that day. His eyes glittered as he spied a young man walking towards us.
    “He’ll do,” he muttered. He moved so fast, the young man had no time in which to react. Using his supernatural speed and strength, Darius lifted him from the path and carried him into the bushes. I followed and was surprised to see the young man fending off Darius with some well-practised boxing jabs. Instead of subduing him quickly with his hypnotic powers as Marcus had taught me, Darius stood there laughing at the young man, dodging each punch with his vampire skill.
    “Darius,” I murmured, wondering why he played this game.
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    “Look, Bernard.” His voice had a grating, mocking tone that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. “He thinks he can best me. What should be the price of his