Nature made them adversaries, but one glance ignites a lust stronger than the need for blood.
After 200 years, the nightlife has lost its allure for Reese. A leader among his kind, owner of a nightclub that serves as a banquet of nubile flesh and hot blood, he is bored out of his mind.
His heart hasn't stirred in over a century.
Born to a line of vampire hunters, Will ventures out every day after dark to track down those creatures who have crossed the line from feeding to murder, and destroy them.
All he wants is one night off to drink and dance and maybe get laid.
Too bad it's not his lucky night. Or maybe it is?
Not even witnessing Will stake one of his brethren is enough to quell the lust that Reese feels from his first glimpse of the gorgeous hunter. And though Will knows how dangerous it could be to take the sensual invitation in Reese's dark eyes, he can't resist.
Why fight when they could fuck instead?
During the day, the city was a beast at rest, somnolent and languid, though no less beautiful and dangerous for its dormancy. But once the sun set, it quickened. At night, it pulsed with dark, shimmering vitality, the streets like arteries filled with the people that were its lifeblood.
Among them, like a virus, invisible to the untrained eye, moved creatures who fed off the city's frantic energy... and the citizens who created it.
Many considered it the height of irony that the very science and technology that had banished their existence to the realms of superstition in the minds of humans made it so easy for them to walk in the modern world.
Never before had they enjoyed such freedom.
All over the world, they gathered, disappearing into the surging crowds, thriving in the neon shadows of cities that never slept.
Earlier, the heavy clouds had promised storms, but the ebony sky beyond Reese's wall of windows was currently dotted with ice chip stars. Below it, the lights of the city glittered like their own galaxy. He sipped his expensive scotch and stared out at all that sparkle, bored near to tears.
Two hundred years of existence, and how many night skies had he seen?
In the beginning, every stretch between sunset and sunrise was a marvel. Another chance to breathe sweet air and drink good spirits. He fought to feel the blood course through his veins. Fed to taste ambrosia on his tongue. Fucked to draw every drop of pleasure from his partner and himself.
Those first few decades, he had thrummed with more life than he had ever experienced. Every emotion that swirled through him had been tinged with the magic of his transformation. It had taken nearly eighty years for him to grow fatigued with his new existence, for his pulse to slow, and eventually stop.
Now, he couldn't remember the last time his heart had beat. Many floors below him was a veritable smorgasbord of nubile flesh, ripe for his teeth and cock, and not so much as a single thump.
"Are you going downstairs?"
Sebastian was a shadow in the glass in his black-on-black Armani. Reese toasted his CFO before finishing his drink.
"I hadn't planned on it."
"It's your club. You're expected." Sebastian ambled over with the bottle of Macallan. Reese watched the reflection of his friend in the window until they stood side by side.
He was several inches taller than Sebastian's six-foot-one height, but the younger man was broader of both chest and shoulder. Reese was built lean, whereas Sebastian's frame was heavy with muscle. They both had raven black hair, but his was wavy and he wore it clipped short on the sides. Sebastian's pin-straight locks hung to his shoulders. He currently had it pulled back into a tail at his nape.
Reese never let his facial hair grow beyond the bit of light stubble he currently sported. Sebastian had a neatly trimmed goatee.
But the most striking difference between them was the contrast of their skin tones. His own milk-pale English skin practically glowed next to his friend's burnished bronze complexion.
Sebastian grinned at him and lifted the bottle in silent question.
Reese let the other man refill his glass. "Correction. Sang is our club. Every member of this colony owns a stake in it. We're legitimate businessmen and women." He flashed a brief, fang-filled smile. "Why don't you make an appearance?"
"I've been down there practically drowning in coeds for the last two hours."
Reese grimaced at the thought of pretending to be interested in inane twenty-something conversation while they shouted in his ear. Feeling the press of eager flesh against his wasn't even enough enticement. Not anymore.
Nearly a hundred thousand nights had passed since he'd first embraced immortality, and there wasn't any act he hadn't tried, any delight he had yet to sample. In life, he had pursued only women, but eternity was a long time not to try new things. Since the first time he'd dared to explore his hidden desires and take the whispered invitation of a handsome, dark-eyed Italian, he had men in his bed as well as women. Many of them.
Often, at the same time.
But even debauchery grew stale after a few decades. Sebastian was still young, only seventy years immortal.
"Isn't that your favorite past time? Don't tell me you're complaining."
Sebastian rolled his eyes and sprawled in one of the low leather chairs that were part of what his decorator called "a conversational grouping". He swirled the amber scotch in his glass and arched a thick brow.
"Not complaining. There was a cute little thing who told me to go to hell." His smile was all bright white teeth.
"You always did prefer the ones who call you on your bullshit."
Sebastian toasted him. "What can I say? They get my heart pumping. But that's not the point. Your absence was noted. I thought I would come beard you in your den."
Reese chuckled and rubbed a palm against the dark stubble staining his jaw. "A lion now, am I?" He flashed his teeth in a feral grin, fangs gleaming.
His friend laughed and lifted his glass.
"Aren't we all?"