“Desmond Tiny would beg to differ,” Wester growled. “He said the vampaneze would unite behind a mighty leader one night, that their Lord would lead them into war with us and wipe us from the face of the Earth.”

“I’ve never seen the legendary Mr. Tiny and I don’t believe he’s as powerful as certain old fools claim,” Tanish said dismissively.

“Seba saw him,” Larten said softly. “He was at Vampire Mountain when Tiny visited after the vampaneze split from the clan. Seba heard him make his prophecy. He takes it seriously.”

Desmond Tiny was a being of immense magical power, who had predicted the downfall of the clan at the hands of the vampaneze. Lots of younger vampires thought he was a mythical creature. Larten might have too if his master hadn’t told him of the night when Mr. Tiny visited the vampire base. He had seen the fear in Seba’s eyes, even all these centuries later.

“When I was blooded,” Larten continued, “Seba made me hold on to the Stone of Blood for longer than necessary. He said that the Stone was our only hope of thwarting destiny. Mr. Tiny gave us the Stone to give us hope. Tiny craves chaos. He doesn’t want the vampaneze to eliminate us too easily. He’d rather we get dragged into a long war ful of suffering and torment.”

Larten stared again at the marks on his fingers, remembering the night when he had embraced the Stone of Blood and surrendered himself forever to the rule of the clan.

“I didn’t mean to belittle Seba Nile,” Tanish said, choosing his words with care. He wasn’t close to his own master, but he knew Larten respected Seba. “If he says he saw Desmond Tiny, I believe him and apologize if I offended you.”

Larten made light of Tanish’s apology, though secretly it made him uneasy. He could feel himself starting to drift away from Tanish and the Cubs.