“You didn’t count on Rhea choosing me.”
Arras bowed his head again, taking the deepest of breaths.
“Fools.”
The curtains silently glided across the windows, enveloping those in the sitting room into darkness.
With eyes glowing, arms bulging, and fangs showing, Arras stood quickly and powerfully, knocking the holy water out of Theo’s hand. Every mortal in the room trembled.
Arras’ resigned, pitiful demeanor disappeared and he suddenly faded from the vivid, well-dressed businessman, to a pale-skinned, ruby-eyed, furious vampire dressed in ancient black clothing. Snapping the bindings on his wrists, he roared, throwing the men holding his arms across the room.
All those present heard answering shrieks and roars. Rhea knew Tristana, Aedan and Brennus were on their way, wherever they were. Swinging around, Arras kicked Theo, knocking him off of his feet and causing him to drop the wooden stake. Rhea snatched it up and threw it into the fading fire.