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certain to come.
    The priest always remained a step ahead of her. “That is a good point. However, do you know without a doubt that the creature you call vampire possesses no soul? The Lord found virtue in all things. Even the wretched and the damned.” Father Mancini peered down at her through the grates of the confessional box. The man had a way about him. He helped her see things from his perspective without making her feel overtly guilty of sin.
    “You’re right, Father. I don’t know for sure that all vampires are evil. But the great majority of them deserve to be punished for what they have done.” Eva pushed a strand of her hair behind her ears, and forced the image of her deceased parents out of her mind.
    The priest wrestled with something at his feet, pulled out a hymnal and opened it. He flipped through it until he came to the right page and read one of the scripture aloud to Eva.
    He will come again in glory to judge the living and the down and his kingdom will have no end.

    The Nicene Creed. She’d recited that same benediction a million times during her years at St. Mary’s Catholic School. Father Mancini didn’t need to explain further. She got the message loud and clear. Casting judgment on vampires wasn’t her call. “Is there anything else you feel the need to confess before I give you your penance?” His downcast stare like truth serum flowed in her veins.
    “Well,” she answered. “There is one thing.” Eva slinked back into her chair. She felt almost dirty. Killing bloodsuckers was the last thing on her mind. She wanted to wrap her hands around a vampire in the raunchiest way possible. How in God’s name was she supposed to verbalize that to Father Mancini? The priest’s reassuring smile urged her to continue. “I’ve had impure thoughts about a man.” Eva murmured the words under her breath.
    “How so, Miss Sambucco?” Father Mancini prodded, aware of the delicate nature of their conversation.
    “I dream of having sex with him. Often,” Eva admitted begrudgingly.
    Father Mancini hesitated, a bright-red flush colored his rounded cheeks. “And have you acted on any of these fantasies?”
    “No. Not yet. But I am afraid that soon I will not be able to resist the temptation. What should I do?”
    With a wry smile, the priest offered a suggestion. “Pray, my dear. Pray and ask the Lord for strength. You can start with five Hail Marys and two Our Fathers.”
    “Thank you, Father. God bless you. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” Eva motioned with her right hand as she formed the sign of the cross over her chest and quickly exited the confessionary. Resisting Andreas Kristopolous would take a whole helluva lot of prayer.

Chapter Five
The Patriarch

    Andreas made his way up the winding staircase with slow, deliberate steps. The sound of his heels reverberated across the ornately-decorated walls filled with the works of Picasso and Monet.
    Twelve-foot ceilings fringed with Baroque-style crown molding and a blanket of polished cherry wood covered the floor from one end of the room to the other.
    Ugh! This home is definitely a reflection of my father’s gaudy sense of style .
    Andreas dreaded stepping foot across the threshold.
    Nonetheless, he climbed the immense spiral staircase. Each step carefully orchestrated to announce his eminent arrival at the door to his father’s office. With his father’s keen vampire senses, he would hardly need to broadcast his presence.
    Andreas arrived at the double doors and knocked hesitantly.
    He wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. He waited as the security camera stationed above the doors repositioned itself. Aristotle obsessed about the possible infiltration of his inner circle. But this was getting a bit ridiculous. A few seconds later, the security system deactivated, and his father buzzed him into the sanctity of the patriarch’s private quarters.
    Aristotle stood behind his desk. He motioned for his son to take a