6 IN ANTICIPATION OF BLOOD
IGNATIUS SLIPPED THE CURVED BLADE into the leather holster on his leg. It wasn’t the only tool he would need in torturing the Tod boy, but it was by far his favorite. The blade was an extension of himself, and had shed nearly as much blood. They were one. Symbiotic, in a way. The blade hungered for blood, but needed Ignatius’s actions and strength to acquire it. And Ignatius… he hungered for justice, something only the blade could provide for him. Soon they would taste both.
Lying on the table was a stack of papers, all stamped with the official seal of the Stokerton council. The top paper held the signatures of every council member. They had granted him official permission to hunt the boy at last. It was about time.
Now Ignatius’s only concern was how to find the boy alone… and in total darkness.
His allergy to the sun-so severe that he would burn even from the light that reflected off the moon at night, so terrible that it could not be overcome by mere sunblock-was an embarrassment that he had dealt with since the moment he’d been reborn into vampiric society. He had never let it hold him back from completing a task. Never. And it wouldn’t stop him this time.
He would capture Vladimir Tod… and make him bleed until his screams were silenced.