A Dozen Black Roses Read Online Free Page B

that served alcohol, and a far more elaborate system for those whose tastes ran to things warmer than wine.
    A dozen humans, male and female, were shackled to the far wall by bondage harnesses attached to spools of stainless-steel chain, similar to those used to restrain large dogs. Phlebotomy shunts jutted from their right elbows, while bags of anticoagulant pumped into intravenous feeds attached to their left arms.
    Some looked terrified to the point of madness; others seemed oblivious to their surroundings; a few appeared to be lost in ecstasy. All were exceptionally pallid.

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) Esher paused at the balcony's railing to scan the floor below. The evening looked as though it was getting off to a good start. He spotted a couple of new faces clustered near the feeders. The Dance Macabre attracted Kindred from as far away as New York and Atlanta and had proved handy in recruiting unaffiliated vampires. Soon his enclave would be as large as Sinjon's brood—if not larger.
    Satisfied with the turnout, Esher returned to his seat, a rosewood throne outfitted with crimson velvet cushions, which had been presented to him by the human mage, Crowley. The little charlatan had thought he could learn the ways of Thaumaturgy from Esher, but had quickly lost interest upon discovering the price of such knowledge. Not that Esher would have Embraced the power-hungry dilettante in the first place.
    He snapped his fingers and his private stock stepped forward and knelt at his feet. This evening's private stock was a woman whose wan complexion and drawn features made her look far older than her nineteen years. Without his having to gesture or speak, she automatically lifted her right arm. Esher quickly uncapped the shunt and plugged a hypodermic needle attached to a length of IV tubing into the access port. He then brought the end of the IV to his lips and began to suck. The private stock rolled her eyes back in her head and voiced a deep sigh as her head nodded back and forth.
    Once the private stock's blood darkened the tube, Esher pinched it shut and motioned for Decima to hand him a shot glass. The private stock gasped as if on the edge of orgasm and swooned, laying her head atop Esher's boots. The vampire lord grunted and kicked her away as he would a bothersome pet. The private stock barely flinched. Judging by the thinness of the blood he'd drawn, she was close to empty. He made a mental note to remind Decima to see that another vessel was chosen from his cellar.
    As he sipped fresh blood from the shot glass, Esher settled back into the wizard's throne and allowed himself a moment's relaxation. His eyes flickered to the series of closed-circuit television monitors mounted near the ceiling.
    One presented him with a closer view of the club floor, another was trained on the stage, and two more showed views of the street just outside the front door. Esher liked to keep an eye on things. It was a trait that had helped him become one of the more powerful lords on the Eastern Seaboard.
    At one hundred and ninety-one years, Esher was little more than an adolescent, as the Kindred measure age. Most were well into their third century before they accrued a power base as sizable as his. But then, he'd always been exceptional, even as a mortal. All anyone had to do was look at the impression he'd made on his unofficial "biographer."
    He'd been born into Tidewater aristocracy thirty years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Indeed, his maternal grandfather had signed that very document. Raised by doting mammies, he had wanted for nothing as a boy. Nor had any limits been placed on him. By turns inquisitive and cruel, he'd shown signs of interest in becoming a physician, so he was sent to the University of Virginia to continue his schooling. Once there, he began a life of carousing and abandon that would eventually end in his being expunged from