Falling for Them Volume 3: Reverse Harem Collection

by Amy Sumida

  I snort, remembering how utterly gobsmacked I was to find out Lyle, my idiot guard, was an Old One. I was raised to believe all vampires were superior to humans, but especially the Old Ones. Meeting one who genuinely thought he could turn into a bat was an entirely new experience. He was one of the Mistress’s playthings, so I assume he got there by his looks, because a box of rocks definitely had more going for it in the IQ department.

  “After moving here, they became unusually...inventive...in their use of me, and I didn’t know how much more I could take before becoming the shell of a human they wanted. A week ago, I stumbled into a patch of wild-growing blackthorn while on my walk. Every time I went out, I ate as much of it as I could before returning to the house. It’s horribly bitter, but my sanity was hanging on by the thinnest thread.” My heart skips when I remember my only other option. “It was my last chance,” I sigh. “Yesterday, when they fed from me...”

  I trail off, and the room goes eerily silent, dinner momentarily forgotten.

  “They would’ve become lethargic, and fallen into an unnaturally long sleep,” Genji finishes for me. “I imagine they’re still unconscious.”

  And there it is. The thing I wanted to avoid. Pity. None of them could possibly understand what it was like. My gaze drops to the floor in embarrassment. It’s becoming a common occurrence. Their steady focus causes my skin to crawl from the weight of their stares.

  After a moment, Phoenix lets out a low whistle. “Like I said, she’s a badass!”

  I smile appreciatively at him for breaking them out of it, and he winks, giving me tingles of another sort.

  Kent rubs his forearm for a minute before rejoining everyone in their small conversations. Hawk storms angrily over to the fire and stokes it forcefully.

  Genji taps me on the shoulder. “Will you come with me for a moment?”

  I nod, wanting to get away from this feigned normality.

  He leads me to what appears to be an office with an entire wall filled with what I assume are doctoring instruments. They look nothing like what I saw in the infirmary at the compound, so I can’t be completely sure. “Kitten, after hearing what you’ve been through, I wanted to talk.”

  Uh, oh.

  I really don’t want to think about that anymore. The door opens briefly, and Kent joins us.

  “Guine.” Genji taps my hand. “Would it be alright if I drew a sample of your blood? I want to test it and make sure you aren’t experiencing any side effects from the blackthorn.”

  Yes, be a good little girl and give the vampire your blood.

  I smack my inner voice down and mentally roll my eyes at her snark. I trust Genji more than I trust anyone right now. As a sign of that trust, I give him my arm. He brings out his doctor’s bag and pulls out a syringe, drawing a small amount of blood out of my vein. He straightens upright and quickly drips a few crimson drops onto his tongue.

  Eew.

  He swishes my blood around in his mouth for a minute before spitting it into the waste bin and wiping his lips with a pristine handkerchief from his pocket.

  “Well, Kitten, the toxin’s definitely still in your system, but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything other than making you vampire-proof.” He smirks as he says this, and deliberately takes a step closer. “You need to eat more, though. I can tell you haven’t gotten much in the way of nutrition, and I don’t want you getting sick. When we’re done here, you need to eat at least two bowls of stew, okay?”

  I stand motionless as I process his words.

  He can tell all of that from a few drops of my blood?

  “Guine,” Kent’s deep voice interrupts my internal speculation. “The group we belong to, the Hunters, will find a home for you if you wish.”

  They will?

  Kent sits on the corner of the desk and swings his right leg as he talks. “We dedicate our whole existence to removing the rogue vampires and hybrids from society. Occasionally that leaves us with their victims. We have programs designed specifically for helping people like you.”

  People like me. Victims. I don’t like that word.

  “Will they let me become a Hunter? Will they train me to fight?” Acid drips from every word and my fists clench, my nails biting deeply into my palms. “Or must I go and sit away in a corner somewhere with the other victims?”

  He raises an eyebrow, clearly not amused with my rant.

  “Guine,” he admonishes, piercing me with his sharp gaze. “I believe, given the demonstration with the knives, the Hunters would be stupid not to welcome you among their ranks. Victim is a term to describe one’s circumstance, not their character. In the last few hours, you’ve impressed the hell out of me, Violet. Please don’t mistake my words for accusations. Honestly, if you’re willing, I’ll make a formal request for you to be placed with my team. We would train you.”

  My anger dissipates and I mull over his offer. Do I want this? To join their team and become a Hunter? Can I handle it?

  Genji snorts. “Kent’s right, Guine, you should join us.”

  His words are so incredibly heartfelt that I consider him seriously. “Kent,” I draw out, causing a spark of something I don’t recognize in his stormy eyes. “I-I want to train with you.” I remember the sensation of a weapon in my hand, and my adrenaline surges. “I want to work to make the world safer. I want to help stop what happened to me from ever being another person’s story.”

  He smiles, his whole face lighting up. “Okay, Guine. I’ll make the call.”

  “Thank you.”

  I stand, ready to go back out to the living room when Genji says, “Don’t forget Kitten, two bowls!”

  I laugh as I exit the office, and walk into a whirlwind of organized chaos.

  Phoenix tosses bowls and utensils through the air and Declan deftly catches them and holds them out for Ash to fill with stew. Each bowl then gets handed off to one of the other guys and they find a seat somewhere in either the living or dining room.

  I hover in the doorway, amazed. They eat like they may never see another meal; I’m in awe, and a little queasy from it. Before the last bowl gets filled, Hawk lines up for a refill, and the whole cycle repeats.

  Hurrying to the stove, I nudge Ashton out of the way and point him to a chair. He winks in thanks, grabs a bowl for himself, and slurps his food voraciously. I get everyone refilled and then grab a bowl of stew to eat.

  I sit at the table that separates the kitchen and living room, take my first tentative bite, and die a little when the savory meat and potato hit my tongue. This is what I’ve been missing all these years? My hatred for my captors grows as the kaleidoscope of flavors bursts in my mouth. I soon eat as quickly as the guys and almost choke on a particularly large chunk of carrot.

  “Careful, Mo Chroí,” Declan chuckles as he slaps me firmly on the back to dislodge the food. “There’s plenty more. Take your time.”

  I swallow the bite in my mouth and sass him. “How would I know, the way you all devour it?”

  His ears tinge red and Kent and Genji burst out into laughter as they enter the room.

  “Our manners have become a bit rusty, gentlemen,” Kent chuckles as he fills his own bowl and sits at the table. Genji joins him, albeit without the food, and Kent eats with impeccable etiquette.

  Genji notices me watching, and I nearly choke again when his pinkie finger lifts from his imaginary cup in a mockery of aristocratic tea. “I do say, ol’ chap,” he nods to Kent in an affected British accent, “I would be most grateful if you could pass me a scone.”

  Everyone gets a kick out of this, and after the not-so-subtle reminder of manners, Ashton jumps to his feet and refills my now empty bowl. “Don’t get up, Guine. I’ve got you, Sugar Plum.”

  I lean over to Declan once I hold my bowl again and nudge him with my elbow. He turns his hypnotizing pale blue eyes to me. “I just wanted to let you know that this is way better than the stew they served us as a ‘special treat’ when important Old Ones visited, even if that was the best th
ey ever gave us. Thank you.” His cheeks crinkle with a smile. “You’re an amazing cook.”

  As I eat my prescribed second helping, my mind filters out the lighthearted chatter around me and wanders back to a day five years ago at the compound.

  It’s cold and the first snow of the year has already fallen. They insist I get used to it now, as the vampires don’t feel the cold and rarely heat their homes. I just want a blanket or something to wrap up in. Isn’t it a good idea for them to keep their food fresh and healthy?

  Perry, my Decorum instructor, drones on about The Charter, and how the first vampires to show themselves to the humans during The Debut a hundred years ago were ‘oh so amazing’ with their manipulating us into writing laws that would make the world comfortable with the idea of them being real.

  Yeah, right. Like a bunch of words on paper were going to make the monsters behave in a civilized manner. They like their art and their parties and their ‘culture’, but they prey on us. To them, we’re nothing more than a food source. So what if the opera they love was written by a mere human? Who cares if the painting they covet was created by a blood bag? All they see is another way for us to serve. But the joke’s on them. Humans rule the world, and the stupid vampires are the ones who hide in the shadows.

  Crack!

  Perry smacks me across the face for not paying attention. Stars speckle my vision as he goes on about how worthless and disgusting I am. I just want to shout at him to shut up! I’ve heard it a hundred times before. I’m a ‘waste of resources’. I’m ‘nothing more than a blood slave’. Food that can talk.

  They don’t want me to have my own thoughts. They try to break us down, and it’s only a matter of time before they succeed. The corners of my eyes prickle, and I beg the tears not to fall. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

  “Your punishment, you insignificant little human, is that you, and only you, will be dinner tonight for the visiting Old Ones. You’ll be silent unless asked a direct question, and you’ll make them believe you want nothing more than to serve!”

  I choke back the tears threatening to escape. I hate this! I hate all of them! I don’t want to be here anymore, but there’s no one coming to rescue me. The realization is suffocating, and I find it hard to take a steady breath. This is all my life will ever be, and if I don’t want to get used to it, I’m going to have to take drastic action.

  When Perry finally dismisses me, I sneak off to the wall at the back edge of the compound. The patrol only passes here a couple times per night, and it’s the only place I can find complete privacy.

  I pull out the knife I managed to steal from the kitchen last week. I didn’t know what I would do with it back then, but I do now. It isn’t sharp, but it will do the job. I take one last look at the overcast sky and see a distant ‘V’ of geese flying south for warmer climates.

  “Maybe I’ll come back as a bird,” I sigh into the cold breeze. I’d like that; the freedom to fly away from my prison.

  I wedge the dull blade into a gap in the wall and drag my arms harshly across the edge, eventually opening my veins. I barely notice the sting after years of vampires biting into me with no regard. Only ever knowing their rough treatment, pain doesn’t affect me the same way it would a normal person. I watch the river of blood flow away from me and hope it will finally release me from this hell.

  “You’ll pay for that!” Phoenix’s shout snaps me out of my memories, and I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes. He chases Ashton, who laughs like a madman, holding two bowls aloft.

  Hawk takes a seat next to me and grumbles, “Don’t mind those asses.”

  I lean away from him and pretend to glare. “And what about the one who just sat beside me?”

  He barks out a laugh and sighs, running his fingers through his closely cropped dark-brown hair. “Yeah, about that. I’m really sorry. I jumped to conclusions, and I shouldn’t have.”

  His words settle in my mind and my feigned anger turns real. His insincerity pisses me off. “It would’ve been okay for you to treat me like trash if I was a donor, though?” I move to stand, and he grabs my arm, halting my progress. “Let go of me if you want to keep your hand,” I growl. My words ooze contempt, and I’m pretty sure I’m capable of the follow-through.

  “Shit, Guine! Ugh! Don’t take it that way!” He releases me and runs a hand through his hair again, rolling his eyes like I’m overreacting. I pull my elbow back, ready to strike out at him, when Kent steps between us, effectively stopping my assault and blocking me from witnessing any more infuriating reactions from the arrogant asshole.

  “Hawk,” Kent scolds. “If you don’t change your attitude, and quickly, you’re going to find yourself very, very alone. Explain yourself before your second chance flees.”

  Everyone joins me, and I’m amazed to see their expressions mirroring my own. They’re angry, too, and vindication rockets through me. I fold my arms across my chest and step around Kent, waiting for Hawk’s apology.

  “Fine!” He glares with sparks practically spewing from his eyes. “My mother was a damned blood whore and it ruined our lives!” He jumps to his feet and charges out of the room in a thunder of heavy footfalls that each weigh heavily on my heart.

  I search out Ash and my stomach clenches as he wipes the pain and disappointment from his face.

  Chapter Three

  The raw pain Hawk carries shoots through me, and my eyes sting with tears. Has he ever tried to talk it out with anyone here? Deeply immersed in my worries, I jump when a hand touches my shoulder. Ash’s warm, earthy scent wafts over me, and I turn to him.

  “You should go and find him, Sugar Plum.” He wipes a stray tear from my cheek, and I lean into his hand. “It’ll do him good to work through it with you. He needs to let this go.”

  His eyes, devoid of shock and anger, fill with a deep sadness for his brother’s pain. With a light kiss on my forehead, he ushers me after Hawk.

  Confused, I walk down the hallway, lost and unsure of where to go. How can Hawk be so worked up over his mom when Ash seems completely calm, if not a bit sad about it? I touch the spot where Ashton’s lips met my forehead, and wander down another corridor, lost in thought.

  An even, rhythmic grunt, thump, grunt, thump, draws me to the exit. I follow the noise until I find myself standing outside of a deceptively simple log cabin. It seems to have more rooms than I would know what to do with, but from the outside, it appears to be no bigger than a thousand square feet. I remember the staircases and wonder how many rooms are below the surface. The sounds come from around the corner to my left, and as I get closer, I come upon Hawk, shirtless, chopping his way through a pile of firewood. I take a moment to appreciate the view before letting him know I’m here.

  Thick cords of muscle ripple their way through his torso as he hauls the axe overhead into a powerful downward arc. Tattoos of thorny vines travel up and around his arms from under the leather bracers at his wrists. They wrap around his biceps, crawl across his pectoral muscles, and end by meeting as twin blades piercing the ornate heart in the center of his chest. The detail is so fine, I have to tamp down the urge to trace it with my fingertips and see if it has texture. He swings again, splitting another log in one strike. He only came out here a few minutes ago, but already a considerable amount of cut wood forms a pile beside him.

  I clear my throat. No need to startle someone with an axe. His shoulders tense and he whips around.

  “Come to shower me with your pity?” he snarls.

  Oh, hell no.

  My chin snaps up, and I stomp away from the house.

  “Really?” I shout. “You think having a horrible childhood gives you the right to be a criticizing ass?” I kick a rock out of my way and flies across the clearing. “I was property to them, Hawk, and even I still recognize Genji as someone unique and deserving of kindness and respect! Everyone’s different, you idiot, and there’s never a circumstance that makes it okay to throw accusations at strangers. It’s our c
ompassion that separates us from the monsters, and I can guarantee there are evil humans out there, too!” Once again, I find myself directly in front of him without realizing my approach. My breath huffs out irregularly, and fury seethes from every pore. “And—“

  His expression morphs from anger to confusion to humor in the blink of an eye. He smirks, and captures the rest of my tirade with his lips, silencing me.

  The kiss is rough and soft at the same time, and his stubble scratches at my skin as he moves his mouth, pressing harder. A calloused hand grips me around the waist, and he tries to make me lean back into the embrace.

  Shock overwhelms me as he trails kisses down my jaw. When he moans into my throat, it snaps me back to reality with a flaming vengeance. My temper boils over, and I knee him as hard as I can in the groin. He falls back onto the dirt behind him, groaning for a different reason now.

  I nail him with an icy glare. “I don’t know what possible scenario was running through your head that told you kissing me was the right move,” I spit out. “I’m not some toy to play with as you wish, Hawk.”

  I crouch near his face and stare directly into his eyes. I let a little bit of the frost leave my tone, but remain serious. “I’m sorry things were rough with your mother, but living your life caught up in the rage you felt as a child will lead you to destruction. People are complex, and we’re all more than just the poor decisions we’ve made.” I touch his face. “Who are you, to judge someone because they sin differently than yourself? I’m here when you want to talk, but I won’t let you continue to treat me like this. You’re hurting, I can see that, but you’re spreading that pain around like a poison, and it’s affecting your family.”