He’d heard it was nothing much to look at but he’d still been hoping to get there before this—a long time before. “Goddess damn it,” he muttered, running a hand over his shaved head. He kept his hair convict short because it was easier to deal with that way. Along with his massive seven foot seven frame and mismatched eyes—one gold and one blue—it made him look like what he was. A thug. Or that was what they called him growing up on Tranq Prime. Thug, low life, half breed, scum—you name it, he’d heard it. The good folks on TP weren’t known for their tolerance of anything different, especially if that difference was Kindred in nature. And Merrick had not one but two Kindred bloodlines in his heritage—the fiery Beast Kindred line that filled him with bloodlust and urged him to kill, and the chilly Blood Kindred line which made him cold as ice when he did so. The killing frost which came over him in times of violence and his huge size made him a male to be feared and avoided.
