There’s something about him that always sets people on edge, a feeling that crawls under the skin and refuses to leave. Tam-Tam strides into the gathering, a quiet smirk playing on his lips, his eyes scanning the room with a predator’s gaze. For all the noise that surrounds him, he barely speaks. He doesn’t need to. The vampires in the room can feel his presence—like a storm cloud, silent but charged with dangerous energy.

 

The other vampires have learned, over time, to be wary of Tam-Tam. He’s not the most powerful in a fight, nor is he the most politically savvy. But he doesn’t have to be. Tam-Tam thrives on chaos. Wherever he goes, things tend to unravel. Some think he’s just there to observe, to play the part of a disinterested bystander. But they know better. Tam-Tam doesn’t do disinterested. He’s watching, waiting, studying every move they make, as if he’s silently weaving a web to trap them in.

 

Then there’s the matter of the ghoul he’s brought along—Josefine. Everyone knows her master, Jonny, met a grisly end, but Tam-Tam’s kept her close. Why?