Heart of the Dead: Vampire Superheroes (Perpetual Creatures Book 1) by Gabriel Beyers

dress, simple in design, cutting her just at the knees. She looked as though she was no older than twenty, but Silvanus sensed her true age to be much greater.
    A man stepped into view and took his place at Foster’s right hand. There was no mistaking that this man was Shufah’s brother. He was her masculine mirror image, as handsome as she was beautiful.
    Silvanus was so intrigued by this that he nearly pressed the door open further so that he might get a better look at the siblings. Kole’s voice stopped his hand.
    “Why do you stand so guarded?” There was mocking in his question. “We are here as ambassadors. Do you not wish our approval?”
    “We seek the approval of the Stewards,” Shufah said, though the words seemed to pain her.
    “And we come on their behalf.”
    “Do you?”
    A sizzling tension rolled through the room and Silvanus wished that he could read their minds so that he could understand what was happening. The vampires’ minds were closed to him, but Foster’s wasn’t. Silvanus didn’t think he could read Foster’s mind without giving away his presence, however, so he decided against it.
    A strange glint and a smirk rolled across Kole’s face as Shufah questioned him. “We bear the Stewards’ insignia, do we not? If you believe us liars, we can postpone the judgment and bring Foster before the High Council.”
    “Maybe we should wait,” Shufah’s brother said.
    “No, Suhail. Foster has done all that the Stewards requested and we have waited long enough.”
    “Very well, then,” Kole said. “Stand aside.”
    Shufah placed a tender hand on Foster’s shoulder then followed her brother, Suhail, to somewhere out of sight. Kole approached Foster and stood staring into his eyes for a moment. He circled like a hunting wolf, running his fingers over Foster’s exposed back, up through the hair at the base of his skull. The experience seemed to elate Kole while revolting Foster.
    “You’ve done well reinventing yourself, Mr. Reynolds,” Kole said, facing Foster once more. “Were you not standing here, I wouldn’t have believed it possible.”
    “Thank you,” Foster replied, though it seemed an awkward reflex.
    Kole smiled, showcasing his tiny but dangerous fangs. “I can detect no scar from your various surgeries, except for the one hidden in the hair at the back of your scalp.”
    Foster’s eyes widened, panic floating just below the surface. “They removed a strip of my scalp so that they could transplant the follicles to the top of my head. That way I could grow my own hair.”
    “Oh, I understand the procedure,” Kole said. “Fascinating, truly, it is.” He rolled his eyes before turning toward Shufah.
    “The scar is beneath the hair,” Shufah said hurriedly. “Once Foster is turned, it will never be visible.”
    Kole held up his hand for Shufah’s silence. He continued to circle Foster in a slow, tight arch. He held his chin in his hand, his brilliant eyes flicking here and there as he pondered his decision. Just when the silence became unbearable, he stopped and faced Foster.
    “I find no fault in your fledgling, Shufah. You have my blessing to turn him.”
    Foster’s shoulders slumped in relief and a sigh escaped his lips.
    Kole squared his stance and all air of play fled from him. Foster seemed to feel the change in the vampire’s mood for he stood at attention once more.
    “Mr. Reynolds,” Kole said, his voice crisp and commanding. “You do understand that to take on immortality you must first lay down your mortal self?”
    “I understand,” Foster replied.
    “And you understand that just because Shufah has supped on your blood and allowed you to live — repeatedly, I might add — by no means does it guarantee that you will rise from your death?”
    Foster swallowed hard. The resolve on his face wavered a bit, but he glanced at Shufah and regained his composure. “I understand. Shufah is strong enough to bring me safely through the veil.”
    Kole