Amelia smiled. “Okay, see you later.”

As soon as Amelia was in the door, Byron turned and shot downstairs in a millisecond, certain that her lover wouldn’t come back out of the bedroom and see her unusual speed.

At the bottom of the stairs, Alexis waited for her. “Alexis, I need to feed. Send someone to my office as soon as possible, and you and the rest of the guard must feed as well.”

“Of course, Principe. I will.”

After Alexis bowed her head and started to walk away, Byron stopped her again. “Oh, Duca, after I’ve fed could you ask Bhal to come and see me?”

“Yes, Principe.”

* * *

Byron walked through some long marble corridors and came to her large wooden office doors. The electronic lock on the door frame was a contrast to the aged varnished oak door. She pressed her hand to the computer lock and it opened. Only a select few in the Debrek clan were allowed down in this part of the house. It was an act of trust to be given that kind of access to the private areas of the Debrek estate.

She walked in and let out a sigh of relief. It was harder than she expected covering up who she really was from Amelia. In their six-month courtship, the most they had stayed in each other’s company was a day and a half at the weekend, and she’d thought that was hard enough.

This—a whole month together—was going to be another thing entirely, but Byron felt she had very little choice. Their relationship had gotten to the stage that she either had to say goodbye to Amelia or try to let her in.

Byron looked down at her hand and saw it tremoring still, so she walked over to her side table that had crystal decanters full of aged whiskey, and poured a large glass. The alcohol would help stave off her burning hunger for blood until her attendant arrived.

She glanced up at the screens covering two walls of her office. The screens played rolling news, financial market reports, and the Debrek bank’s own internal channel, showing footage of every office around the world. The Debrek banking group split its interests into regions around the world, each region run by a Debrek born vampire or an older, trusted turned vampire. With a glance, Byron could check their numbers and investments from the comfort of her office.

Byron refilled her glass and enjoyed the burn as the whiskey ran down her throat. She hated to feel this jitteriness, this intense need for blood. It made her feel out of control, and that was something she didn’t like.

A call came in on the screen in front of her. “Answer.”

The face of her cousin Angelo came on the screen. Angelo ran the North American arm of Debrek International. She was unbelievably intelligent, worked hard, and played even harder.

“Principe.” Angelo smiled.

“Angelo, good to hear from you.” Angelo was younger than her, only having lived a hundred and fifty years. Where Byron was controlled, Angelo was the life and soul of the party, similar to Byron’s sister, Serenity. She was incredibly distinctive looking, with dark looks and skin taken from her African American father, but with light blue eyes.