Isadora (Masters Among Monsters Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

most genial of them all now looked as if nothing—bar his own grave—would bring him any joy.
    “Are you okay, brother?” Eton asked.
    Diomêdês gave a swift nod. He didn’t wish to burden Eton with his troubles. Not when Thanos lay bloodied and mangled, trying to heal.  
    “Do not concern yourself with me. You have enough worries of your own.”
    Determined to find his Isa, he opened the door, ready to track Vasilios down and devise a plan. Before he was over the threshold, though, Eton said, “You will find her.”
    Without turning back, Diomêdês vowed, “Yes, I will. And I shall destroy whoever has dared to harm blood of our own.”
    After shutting the door behind him, he halted in the east corridor and shoved his hands into the pockets of his long, black trench coat. He now wore black from head to toe. In his own way, he was mourning, and until Isadora had safely returned, he would continue to feel her absence in the most fundamental way.
    The clothes were a stark contrast to his silver hair and his smooth, ivory complexion. Add in his height of nearly six feet seven inches and he was always startling to observers when they first encountered him.  
    He knew that his presence was impactful, and though Vasilios had appealed to him to temper his appearance, he saw no reason to change it. It was not in his nature to put others at ease like the eldest of them chose to. He preferred to stay away from society, and if he did need to enter it, humans were always quick to make up a reason for their fear. Words such as albino, freak, and unusual had all been used in conjunction with him. However, there was always an underlying fascination running parallel to their fear.
    He made his way down the corridor, and as he got closer to Alasdair’s bedchambers, the distinct sound of sex came from within. Groans, growls, and grunts of pleasure emerged, and usually, he’d take a moment to stand where he was and listen. But there was too much going on, too much at stake, to wait outside while Vasilios and Alasdair fucked in celebration over the death of a pesky mortal. So, with no thought other than bringing Isadora home, Diomêdês opened the door.
    And froze.  
    The ache in his limbs turned to a hellacious burn as his rage boiled to the surface. His eyes latched on to three naked males on the bed in the center of the room, and where he’d thought he would see one lifeless and thrown aside, the human was very much alive and sandwiched between the two vampires. He was gripping Vasilios’s forearm, his knuckles white from the strain, and had his mouth fastened to the Ancient’s wrist as he greedily drank from him.
      Alasdair’s eyes were glowing at his sire as he drew his tongue up the side of the human’s neck, and when he gently bit his ear, the human bucked forward and Vasilios’s arm shifted up and down, no doubt working the male’s cock.  
    The vision was lewd. It was all arms, legs, lips, and cocks, and when Vasilios tensed and looked over his shoulder, his lips kicked up in sensual invitation. “Diomêdês. Just the man missing from this little party of ours. An audience always heightens the pleasure. Would you like to sit and watch?”
    Diomêdês curled his fists inside the coat—and then he snapped. He was on the bed in a flash, throwing Alasdair aside, as the black, woolen material swirled around his body like a dark cloud.  
    Alasdair landed on his hands and his feet in a crouch and growled at having been pushed out of his position in the threesome. Diomêdês paid no heed as he gripped the human by the neck and yanked him off Vasilios’s vein.
    “Uh ah,” Vasilios said, shifting off the bed to stand. “Don’t be too hasty, brother. If you kill him, you will not hear my genius plan to retrieve Isadora.”
    Diomêdês didn’t spare the human a glance as he kept an eye on Vasilios, who was now next to Alasdair. Weak fingers tried to pry his hand loose, but he didn’t care enough to tell the man to