Carter sat perched on a barstool, slowly nursing a glass of rye whiskey. He gazed up at his reflection in the polished mirror suspended above the bar. As he looked at himself, he couldn't help but notice the eerie amber glow of his eyes. It meant the change would come tonight.
His keen hearing caught the clinking of glasses and murmurs of conversation in the next room beside the bar. It was Elliot, the owner of the inn, and another familiar voice, the mayor of Grandshope Parrish.
They were locked in a friendly discussion about town business. The two men were as bad as the Baron. All of those in charge of the run-down Parrish seemed to do nothing but scheme how to line their pockets with the hard-earned money of others who already had nothing.
The whole idea of it was despicable. If he became the Lord of this land, as promised by Duke Thayer, there would be many changes in store for those in charge.
