Lord Lion's DesignLord Lion, Home Secretary of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, lifted the chalice of blood that Brabham, his butler, had brought for him. It was only midday, but he needed a drink. Presenting himself to a wary public as the acceptable face of the undead community was proving to be much more wearing than he'd imagined. Bloody plebs were just so damned mistrustful. He had to tread carefully; he was so close to the prize now. One slip and all the years of scheming and denial would be wasted.
The only light in his shuttered library was the shifting glow from the fire. It limned the polished silver cup as he brought it to his lips. He sniffed the bouquet, swirling the dark, viscous liquid around. The cellars were so poorly stocked these days. A good vintage was rare; so muc
