Vail didn’t rise from his bed until around six o’ clock in the evening. Recovering from his injuries and coping with withdrawals, he found it more pleasant to be unconscious than to deal with the incessant discomfort his body was facing. He’d skipped both breakfast and dinner in favor of sleeping, but when he woke, his stomach begged him to get up for supper. So, not wanting to leave the manor on a completely empty belly, he forced himself to endure the ache as he climbed out of bed and got dressed to go downstairs. Like the last time he’d woken up, his thoughts went straight to feeding, not on food but on human blood. It was hard for him to focus on anything else. The desire was consuming, and it made time feel sluggish as he longed for the sun to set so he could go hunting. Of course, he could leave earlier if he wished. The rumor that his kind was harmed by sunlight was just another lie spread by the Order. While he always felt stronger at night, he could just as easily travel about at noon as he could at dusk. He just couldn’t prey on anyone in broad daylight, since doing so was practically asking to be caught. Trying to distract himself from his itch to feed, Vail headed down to join the rest of the Hygraces for a meal. There were quite a few of them who still lived in the main manor, mostly from his uncle’s side. While he was the only son of Peter and Katherine, Reginald had born plenty of children, and a few of them had even gone on to carry the line even further. Sometimes Vail wondered why his uncle had willed the estate to his brother instead of any of his own children, but it seemed to have been a wise decision, because Peter had handled the title gracefully since accepting it a century ago. None of Lord Reginald’s heirs had fought for it either. They all seemed to acknowledge his father as the rightful successor and new head of the family without any conflict. As always, the long table in the dining room was packed from end to end with Hygraces and a few refugees who were still staying with them. Vail noticed some of them whisper amongst themselves as he joined the meal. Though he had tried not to draw attention to his wounds since he’d come home the night before, he guessed that word had still gotten out that he’d been attacked by the Order. His mother had probably said something. The woman couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. That along with the slight limp in his gait as he approached his seat at the table was enough to make him the center of attention that evening. Almost as soon as he sat down, one of his cousins fired off the first question. “So what happened last night?” Ada, one of his uncle’s youngest daughters—though even she was well over a century old—asked him curiously. “We heard you were shot by a Saint.” “Then you heard most of the story already,” Vail shrugged as one of the family servants filled his plate. “I was out hunting last night, and one of the Saints shot me. That’s about all there is to it.” His eyes wandered over the girl standing beside him in a wolfish manner. Though Peter had forbidden them from feeding on the family servants, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling a little tempted. She smelled even more delicious than the food she had set down for his supper, and she wouldn’t expect a thing… Suddenly, he girl seemed to notice the predatory look in his gaze and quickly scurried off to attend someone else. He sighed. It was probably for the best, since he and the rest of his family didn’t want the servants to be frightened of them. It was hard to come by humans who were willing to work for vampires in the first place. He turned back to his plate, focusing on eating as he answered intermittent questions about the Saint’s attack from his other cousins. -- The rest of the evening dragged on slowly. Vail passed the time by reading a book in his bedchamber until night fell over the city and he was able to commence his next outing. As he headed out of the manor, he could already feel his pulse quicken with anticipation. The thrill of the hunt was heightened by his bloodlust, and his senses felt even sharper than usual. Every passing scent was amplified, especially those of the people who were out late for a drink at the tavern. He ran his tongue over his teeth, walking briskly to the nearest pub in search of a new target to prey on that night. Though he was restless, he was also cautious. With the memory of the Saint’s attack still fresh in his mind, he was careful to watch his back a little more closely than he had the last time. Beneath his tailcoat, he harbored a pistol. The only deal the Hygraces had made with the hunters was to let the victims they fed on live. No one said he couldn’t shoot a Saint in self-defense. If any members of the Order tried to catch him off guard this time, they would be in for a surprise. After a bit of walking, Vail came to the White Hart tavern. He didn’t even have to look through the window to know that there were a few women inside. The odor of their strong perfumes reached him through the door. Forcing his excitement into check, he smoothed down his clothes and stepped into the room, eager to finally satisfy the cravings that had become so unbearable inside of him.