“That is no more than superstition. No one has ever attempted to turn a sorcerer, certainly not in my lifetime, which is a fair number of centuries, nor can my scholars find any mention of it in their books and scrolls.”
Xavier frowned. “Perhaps you’re right in this, but does the sorcerer believe the same? And if not, will he consent?”
“That is why you must bring him to me, so that I may ask. I cannot go to him myself—it wouldn’t be seemly. But while you are powerful, you live far from this city and are less likely to be known by a sorcerer from France.”
Xavier stood immediately, ready to undertake this rather simple mission. But Josep waved him back down.
“Not this instant, Xavier. Enjoy the reception, and the many lovely guests. Tomorrow will be soon enough to begin.”
XAVIER HAD LITTLE trouble locating Sakal the next night. Unlike many, if not most, magic users, this sorcerer had set himself up in an elegant townhouse, which spoke to his success, if nothing else. Ignoring the line of petitioners, Xavier strode up the stairs and into the small foyer. Few argued his right to do so, and those who did were quickly silenced by the pewter gleam of his dark eyes. People knew what it meant when a vampire’s eyes possessed that eerie glow—power, and a lot of it.
A servant appeared in front of him when he started down the hallway of the small, but well-appointed home. The man was human, but then why wouldn’t he be? Sakal was also human . . . for now.
“My lord.” The servant spoke quietly, as if to avoid disturbing whoever was behind the door he’d just closed and now stood in front of. “I am unaware of your appointment.”
“That’s because I didn’t make one.” Xavier smiled, fangs on full display. “But your master will see me now.”
The servant froze, quivering like a terrified rabbit under the force of Xavier’s gaze. “Yes,” he whispered at last. “One moment, if you would.” He fumbled for the handle behind him, nearly falling inward when the door opened.
Xavier was amused by the servant’s terrified reaction, and didn’t immediately shove into the room where Sakal was receiving petitioners. For money, of course. He had no doubt the sorcerer charged a handsome fee for his services. His amusement was not infinite, however. He decided to wait three minutes before entering the room with or without an invitation.
The door opened again as a well-fed merchant hurried out, face paling when he saw Xavier waiting. The man squeaked a greeting of some sort, or perhaps it was an apology. Xavier barely glanced his way, his attention already drawn to the tableau inside the room. Sakal—it could be no one else—sat on a gilt-backed chair dramatically placed between two tall candelabras, each bearing six fat, wax candles. The sorcerer’s robes were black velvet with glyphs embroidered in silver thread. Xavier glanced at the glyphs, but made no attempt to reason them out. Chances were they meant nothing and were simply there to impress the ignorant. But if not, then he wasn’t about to trap himself by foolishly reading the wrong thing and getting caught up in some spell.
Sakal stood when Xavier entered, his outwardly calm expression betrayed by the wariness hiding behind his gaze. “I’m told you require an audience,” he said. “You’ve been quite insistent.”
An audience, Xavier thought scornfully. The last thing he needed or wanted was an audience with a fucking sorcerer. If not for his loyalty to Josep, he’d have killed the human on the spot for daring such arrogance. But what he said was, “Lord Josep would speak to you. Come with me.”
The sorcerer appeared taken aback at the brusque command, but recovered quickly. “And if I choose not to go with you, do you believe you can take me against my will?”
Xavier regarded him with a cold stare. “Do you believe I cannot?”
Sakal made a slight moue, as if the answer was uncertain, but said only, “I am intrigued. I will go.”
Xavier snorted dismissively and gestured at the door, for Sakal to lead the way.
“Surely if we are to be colleagues, we should trust each other,” the sorcerer observed.
“You’ve much to learn of the world, if you believe that to be likely.”
Sakal scowled at the ambiguous response, fussed pretentiously with his robe, but finally surrendered and marched out of the room, with Xavier a dark presence at his back.
Xavier telepathed his Sire when he and Sakal arrived at Josep’s home. His telepathic reach was considerably greater than most, but he’d have been able to contact Josep regardless. The bond between Sire and child was very strong.
The vampire lord was not waiting when Xavier hustled Sakal into his receiving room. He wasn’t some common line vamp, or even a powerful master. He was the fucking Lord of Spain and didn’t lower himself to wait in eager attendance upon a mere human, no matter that this particular human styled himself a sorcerer.
Sakal searched the large room, plainly surprised to find it empty. He aimed a glance at Xavier that was part question and part arrogance. Xavier ignored him and simply took up position near the entrance to keep others out. Josep didn’t require his protection, although if Sakal became a threat, Xavier could kill the bastard in a heartbeat without taking a step closer.
“Ori Sakal, I presume.”
Sakal spun at the sound of Josep’s voice. He recovered quickly, but Xavier caught the moment of shock that he hadn’t sensed the vampire lord’s arrival.
“Lord Josep Alexandre,” Sakal said smoothly, as if he hadn’t been summoned as one would a servant. “To what do I owe the honor?”
Josep shot Xavier an amused glance, sharing his view of the sorcerer. Except for his magical skills, Xavier reminded himself. There was a reason Sakal stood in this room.
“I have plans for you,” the vampire lord informed him.
The sorcerer’s brow shot up in unconcealed surprise, but he held his tongue. Perhaps he wasn’t so ignorant, after all.
“And I have a gift for you, as well,” Josep continued. “A great gift.”
“Might I inquire as to the nature of this gift?”
Josep laughed. “So cautious and courtly. You’ll do well amongst us.”
Sakal stilled. “Amongst whom, my lord?”
“Don’t be coy. You know who and what I am.”
“Vampire,” the sorcerer whispered. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“I’m going to make you one of us. A vampire sorcerer. You’ll be the first.”