The Wolves of London Book 2: The House of Striker

(Chapter song ‘Diminuendo' by Lawless)

DEMETRI

I stride through the large arched wooden doors of my snow covered castle, pull off my long coat, and throw it on a lounge chair in the grand foyer.

I head for the large dark grey, stone staircase in the middle of the floor. “ESTER!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

“Here.” He runs up to me from a side room and starts walking backwards. “How was the moon?”

“Uneventful.” I grumble as I hit the stairs and start to jog up them. “Tell me there's progress.”

“Progress, Sire?” He questions as he jogs at my side.

Ester is my right hand. My second head in the house. He is who has all the information on this damn rebellion I’ve been dealing with, and other things.

I walk through the halls and climb a second set of stairs as we pass my many house companions and staff.

They lay out on couches and entertain themselves as they wait for night fall.

Everyone's up early. The moon probably energized them too much. I don’t notice any pair bonds. This rebellion is making mating harder the longer it goes on.

“Do you have her?” I jog up a third set of stairs as he tries to keep up.

“Not exactly.” He answers.

I pass a common room on this floor filled with early snackers. They've pulled some humans out of the care wing. I eye the fangs sink into the soft flesh and blood flow down as they drink. I hear the satisfying growls and feel the contentment of the hive in my head. My fangs itch as I see the veins in their faces pulse and watch the blood move through the necks of those who are still warm.

Men, women and children each take their fill of humans willing to feed us. I don’t take hostages. Love locks are only used for lust feeding and war as decreed by my law which keeps random human death down. It’s punishable by sunlight and no vampire wishes for that. It also stops turning. Over population is half the reason for this damn rebellion. With four vampires to every human, our borders are getting smaller.

Even still, I may have to stop in. I haven’t ate properly in weeks. I’m starting to feel the weakness growing. For someone like me, weakness is a danger for all.

I look back over my shoulder. “What do you mean, not exactly?” I climb a third set of steps and walk into a large common room. My private area is just on the other side of this open space. It’s also filled with vampires waiting for the sun to set, but these are first years. My children. I keep them close to control them until they are able to roam freely on their own without getting into trouble.

“There was a snag.” He starts.

“What kind of snag?” I scowl as I turn down a hallway that leads to my office.

“An unexpected one.”

“Explain!” I bark as I throw open the doors to my office and take big strides across the 200 year old, red based Persian carpet.

I wave my hand at a stone Gargoyle on the edge of a stone fireplace. Flames roar and grow in the hearth as I round my desk. I stand behind it and pick up papers.

As I sift through them, Ester stops at my desk. “We almost had her, Sire.”

I raise my eye to him. “What happened?”

“She escaped the binding spell you gave us.” He supplies.

I pause for a moment and absorb what he just said. I drop my papers on my desk and walk to my bar. I open a cooler fridge and pull out a small bag of blood. “She escaped one of the most powerful binding spells in the magic world. Is that what you’re saying?” I question as I raise my forefinger to my eye level. I call my claw and my nail grows to a long sharp point. I pick up the bag and slice the top open.

“Yes, sire.”

I pour the blood into a crystal wine glass. “And what have you done to rectify this?”

“Well… We were actually wondering….”

I pick up the glass and turn. I place one forearm on my back and walk slowly to my assistant as I sip my drink of A+ imported blood. “Wondering what?”

“What we should do next… Sire.” His pale green eyes avoid mine. He runs his fingers through his slicked black hair and he fixes his black long coat that covers his black shirt and pants. He's on the smaller side of most of us, so he’s no threat. But even still.

I swirl my glass and stare at the thick dark red liquid that coats the inner walls of the glass. “Did you perform the spell properly?”

He tilts his head. “Yes, sire. I believe we did.”

“You believe. You’re not sure.” I roll an eye up to him.

He flicks his eyes behind me then back to mine. “N-Not 100 percent. No. Y-You are the most practiced of us…”

I nod. “Ester. How long have you been with this hive?”

“152 years this June, Sire.” He says proudly.

“I see.” I place my arm around his shoulder and walk him to my door. I set my glass on the fireplace mantle as we walk by it. “And in that 150 years…”

“152, Sir.” He corrects.

“Pardon me. 152.” I stop and turn to him. “In that 152 years. Have I ever been satisfied with less than perfection?”

He swallows. “No, Sire.”

I straighten his lapels and slowly shake my head. “No.” I chew my cheek as look him over. “Do you think this house can run on less than perfection and survive my mother?”

“No.”

I look to the floor. “No.”

This defeat of a simple girl boils in the pit of my gut and the rage of failure erupts as my irises glow, black veins surround my eyes and my claws dig into his skin as I grab his throat.

“WE CANNOT SURVIVE FAILURE!!” I roar in his face as he chokes and hisses. He grabs my arm and tries to pull me off, but I’m the Emperor. There is no escape.

I pull open my office door.

“DREP DENNE VERDILØSE SEKKAN MED DRITT!!”

His eyes widen and he starts to fight me. “NO, SIRE! PLEASE! I’LL FIND HER!! DEMETRI! DON'T…”

With an explosive roar, I throw him out of my office into the hallway. The hungry growls and hisses of the first years in the common room rise as his body hits the floor and slides into the open space.

I wrap an arm around myself as I walk down to the end of the hall. I watch him scream and thrash as my children grab him and drag him to the room. I lean on the wall and watch they feast. They feed on him like a school of starving piranha.

I lean on the wall and bite the inside of my lip as I fold my arms and cross my feet. His blood splashes across the furniture and his flesh splatters on the walls. As he’s torn to the bone, I can’t help but think of golden eyes, ebony hair and snow white skin. I shouldn’t even be given her a second thought. I know she’s a spy.

Ester’s wails and garbled screams do little to break my thoughts as I turn around and walk back to my office. I look at nothing as I enter and shut the door. Thuds hit the door and wall as pieces of Ester are thrown for tastier parts. I grab another glass of blood and sit in my chair. I rest my feet on my desk and pull open my drawer. I pull out a file and rest it on my lap as I drink. I open it and flip through the pages. Her haunting presence floats across my mind as read the Intel we have on her so far which isn’t much, but it’s enough to bother.

‘Sire?’

I glance at my intercom. “Yes.”

‘The children are attacking the staff…. Again.’

I roll my head to the window. “What time is it?”

‘9, Sire.'

I pull out 8x10s and flip through them. “Release them.”

‘As you wish. I’ll notify the escort.’

“You can’t.” I mutter as I look over a black and white photo of a black dog on my east side lawn.

‘Why not?’

I flip to a photo of my carriage. Underneath is a giant black rat. “They just ate him.”

‘Oh… Shall I assign a new one and do we need cleaners?’

“Yes, please. And ready my carriage.” I flip to a girl of maybe 19. I touch her thick black curls, and admire her amazing neck as she looks around my property unannounced.

‘Are you hunting tonight?’

“Yes.” I take my feet off my desk, put the photos back in the file, and drop the file in the drawer.

I get up and walk to my closet. I pull out my long, black leather jacket. “If you want something done right…” I slide my arms into the sleeves and pull it up over my shoulders.

I strut to my window and throw it open. I see the moon rising and I smell the air. I swear, I can smell her blood. I open my mouth and my multiple fangs drop. My eyes glow green and I jump crouch on the window sill. The night air blows my coat as I perch like a bird and look out into the growing darkness.

“You got to do it yourself.” I growl and jump three stories to the ground. My jacket flaps above me like wings, and I land on my boots with a slight hop. I pull up my collar and watch my carriage barrel toward me.

As the driver cracks the whip, I ready myself.

The horses hooves thunder and their large snouts grunt as they gallop at full speed toward the road. The metal of their harnesses rattle fiercely as I extend out my hand. When the carriage nears, I grab the edge of the footman with one hand and leap into the air. I swing my legs around to the front and drop, landing on the seat beside the driver.

“The hunting grounds.” I say darkly.

“HA! GET ON, HA!!” He cracks the whip a few more times and the horses increase their speed. I set my boot on the edge of the foot rest and lean my elbow on my knee as I rub my lips in deep thought.

For months this girl has plagued me. It’s not so much my mother as the cause. It’s the fact that she reminds so much of another. One that I wanted to forget. One that was to be mine, but she couldn’t accept me. One that created what I am and who I was to become.

The ghost of one who was able to do the impossible…. Or so I thought.

She was able to wake the dead.

It was my mother’s fault, to a degree. And now, it looks like she’s trying do to the same.

Unless I stop it from ever happening again.

THE END

Thank you for reading House of Striker. It was a pleasure to bring this and all my stories to you. My world wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for my readers. Thank you.

The Wolves of London continue with Book 3: The House of Klouse.

The Wolves of London in order:

The House of Maximus

The House of Striker

The House of Klouse: After being chosen as Nova’s latest game player, Demetri faces many challenges that are not games. His mother has come out of centuries of hiding to declare war on his throne. With starvation being a real threat, Demetri must win the rebellion and save his house from execution. His men catch a spy who has ties to his mother, but also to a lot of other people. Her existence shocks not only Demetri, but the entire world of magic and now, everyone wants her. Dead or alive. The problem is Demetri refuses to trust. His heart may be dead, but it was broken and a vampire with feelings is already a threat. He can’t get close or even his supporters will turn. Which he believes was his mother’s plan all along.

To read The Falcon Ridge Universe in order:

Falcon Ridge:

She's Not For You

Not Just a Girl

If Looks Could Kill

Art of a Girl

Her Choice to Make

The First to Rule

Thrill of the Hunt

Lycans in New York

Reign of the King

Phoenix Mountain: Spin off

The City of Dreams

Alpha's Heart of Stone

You Broke Me First

The Heart of Atlas

Alpha Deals the Cards

The Alpha's Music Box

Lust of the Alpha

The Alpha’s All Stars

The Alpha's Wonder Land

The Alpha's Dark Side

Behind the Alpha: Side Character Stories

Quinn

Wes

Nala

Cass

Deacon

Oliver

Graham

Adam

Axelridge: Spin off

Finn's Slapshot

Jax's X Game

Marc's Stolen Heart

Griff’s Red Card

Eddie's 180 Break

Noah's Switch Up

Stand Alones:

Draco: A Dragon Born

The Snow Queen's Hunter

Upcoming Series:

Oceans of Atlas

The Falcon's Future

The Wolves of the Trees

The Falcon’s Reflection

The Wolves Of Denver

*all are working titles and subject to change. No release dates have been announced.

Other Universes from this Author

The Soul Carriers Series

Set in 2038, the world recovers from WW3. The human population explodes so much, heaven and hell have locked the doors and the world lives with ghosts. When a reaper named Mel tells the humans that they can recycle bodies to the freshly dead, the governments turn the solution into a lucrative business only to create a class division where the rich get everlasting life and the poor suffer. The Soul Division was created as a way to transport souls around the country using humans as vehicles. When Beth King, daughter to a high level Senator, discovers the dark side to her father’s work, she seeks the help of lowly Soul Transporter, Micah Carson. While trying to get Beth to Miami, Micah evades capture and inadvertently creates a resistance group bent on taking on the Soul Division and the government itself. While doing so, the two find friendship and love that only a soul and body can make. They must stop the needless carnage the governments of this dystopia world are doing. They must fight the reapers that will kill them and survive to build a new world where souls and humans are safe from the one human weakness. Greed.

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Until the next blue moon, readers.

Miranda McTier