by Ginna Moran
Goosebumps prickle over my skin. I hide behind the curtain of the storage area near the stairs leading out, peeking through a crack to stare at my dad and Rochester glaring at each other. Neither of them realizes I’ve already returned after only pretending to follow my brothers to the creek like Dad told me to do.
My brothers didn’t want me tagging along, and I didn’t exactly want to follow either. The last time, I accidentally stumbled upon Declan jerking off to an old back-world magazine when he was supposed to be helping scavenge the fruit trees. I mean, it’s better than if he did it in the bunker, but still. Fucking not a dick I ever wanted to see.
“Because she’s not, nor will she ever be.” Dad’s voice rises with his words. “You need to get that straight or leave.”
Rochester releases a low growl. “I think you mistake where your place is, Jerry. Have you forgotten who you belong to? This life is fleeting. I’d hate to have to be the one to tell Gwen that her father couldn’t handle what she was and abandoned her.”
I blink a few times at Rochester’s threat.
“Just because she turned eighteen today doesn’t give you immediate claim. I know the deal. I’ve seen the contract.”
“But has Gwen?”
Dad doesn’t respond.
Rochester’s eyes flash silver. “I can’t wait to give her such a surprise.”
“You—”
I step from the curtain, stopping Rochester from lifting my dad off his feet. The two of them gape at me. If there was one thing I’ve learned from Rochester, it was how to be quiet enough not to be heard by vampiric ears. I bet he regrets teaching me now.
Abandoning Dad, Rochester materializes in front of me and offers me a wide smile. “You’re back early.”
I glance at Dad but keep my attention on Rochester. “I wasn’t exactly in the mood to see my brothers’ naked asses. It’s warm enough to go in the creek, you know. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you join...never mind.”
“You just love to tease me, don’t you?” Rochester says.
I shrug. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
I push past Rochester and head toward the couch and pull my feet up to tuck them under me. I don’t know exactly what I interrupted between Dad and Rochester, but whatever it was leaves not only me on edge. Dad’s lips hide under his beard with how hard he clenches his jaw.
Rochester sits down next to me, giving me more attention than usual. It’s been only a week, but last time, he didn’t even say more than hello. Now, he looks like he has a bunch to say. His sudden closeness tightens my muscles with nerves, and I shift in my spot, considering getting up to leave.
Cool fingers caress my cheek. “Gwen, today is a special day, isn’t it?”
I draw my eyes to Rochester. “No, not really.”
“You’ve turned eighteen.”
“Have I?” I try to keep my voice even. “We don’t celebrate birthdays.” It’s a flat-out lie, but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this day for the sole reason that once a person turns eighteen, they usually must register to become a donor, something I never plan on doing.
“But I insist we celebrate this one.” Reaching into his jacket, Rochester pulls out an envelope and hands it to me. “Please, accept my gift.”
I frown and look up to see my dad staring at me, the wrinkles on his forehead so deep they look like black lines under the shadow of the light fixture. He brings his hand to his lips and motions for me to be quiet.
My heart picks up pace, but I turn my attention back to Rochester. “A gift? You didn’t have to do this.” I force myself to smile. Dad obviously wants me to keep Rochester distracted. I know what his expression means. Something is utterly fucking wrong.
“Of course I did...but technically, you’re the gift.”
I grimace. “Huh?”
“For me.”
Pulling out the papers, he hands me what looks like some sort of contract. I’ve seen something like this once before at one of the Blood Rebel outposts my dad took me to a few years ago to get my brothers and me a health check. It was in the strange archive building with everything I could ever want to know about vampires. I didn’t get to stay long, but the copies of contracts taken and stored were interesting to look at.
Except this one freaks me out.
“What is this?” I ask, silently reading over the words.
“Reimbursement for providing for you. Now that you’re eighteen, I’d like to collect your dues.”
A wave of ice drips down my back, the dread so intense that I shiver. “I don’t understand. My dad gives you blood.”
“He’s been only paying partially until you hit maturity. If you want to continue the life you live, I must insist you pay yourself.”
“No.”
He growls at my word, flashing his fangs. “This isn’t your choice to decide. I’ve had a deal with your family for decades. We will provide for each other how it should be in every way imaginable. You are going to be responsible for my rise in power, something we can only accomplish together.”
Swinging my arm out, I attempt to punch Rochester in the face, but he catches my fist and pulls me to him. The click of his fangs sounds in my ears as he extends them even longer, holding my gaze while turning my neck to the side.
I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for his bite.
A roar startles me, and Rochester shoves his hands into my chest. He disappears from the couch and smashes my dad into the wall. A silver stake protrudes from Rochester’s back. Snarling, he punches my dad in the face, spilling blood from his nose. Dad doesn’t yell or scream or anything. All he does is mouth that he loves me and to run.
Rochester bites my dad’s neck, sending blood pouring from his throat unlike anything I’ve ever seen. He’s bitten my dad before, but never like this. Something inside me snaps, and I rush toward Rochester instead of away.
He drops my dad to the ground and flies at me. The world spins and blurs, and my vision shadows with the movements. With one hand, I link my fingers into Rochester’s hair, bending his neck. The world slows as my back hits the wall at the other end of the bunker. Rochester heaves a few deep breaths, his eyes flashing crazy silver, igniting my fear instincts inside me.
“You are mine, Gwyneth. I did not spend all this time assuring your survival for nothing in return. Submit to me, or I will make you,” he says, his deep voice growling the words. “We have a new future to create together.”
“Okay,” I whisper, leaning forward to hug him.
He relaxes under my action.
And then I bite him.
Blood fills my mouth, the action shocking Rochester enough that he doesn’t react in the rage I expect. He doesn’t do anything but let me continue to drink his blood. His hands travel to my waist, pulling me closer.
Reaching between us, I tug the silver stake dad gave me for my birthday, one he said that was specially made for me. I pull away from Rochester’s neck and lean back to meet his eyes. He puffs a breath of air, caught off guard by my closeness. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in his arms.
“Gwyneth,” he whispers. “You’re everything I imagined.”
Swinging my arm, I stake him so hard that I shatter his sternum. His eyes widen, and he snarls, but he’s too slow to stop me. We both fall to the ground with me on top of him. I punch him in the face over and over again even though he doesn’t move.
“Dad!” Silas yells.
“Where’s Gwen?” Grayson asks. “Gwen!”
Kyler rushes to my side. “She’s over here.”
I fall off Rochester and land on my back, heaving a breath.
“Fuck, Gweny. Are you hurt?” It’s Ashton.
“Declan, get a jar. Hurry. Gwen’s going to need this bastard’s blood until we find a new source,” Grayson says, standing over me. Bending down, he picks me up. “Hey, lil sis. Look at me.”
I blink through my tears.
“Yo
u’re such a badass,” he says. “Rochester was powerful as hell.”
“You saved us.” Kyler shoves his hand into Rochester’s chest. He pulls out what I’m guessing is his heart.
“D-Dad,” I cry.
My brothers surround me with various expressions on their faces.
“I’m sorry, Gweny. Dad’s gone.”
“What? No!”
“She’s having another memory,” Bronx says, his deep voice yanking me from sleep.
“How can you tell?” Jameson’s voice trickles to me next.
“Turn her towards me,” Everett says. “Hold her tight, Mik. She looks like she’s going to wake up fighting.”
Jameson groans. “Damn, you’re right. Her heart’s going wild.”
“I don’t like this,” Bronx says. “Wake her up.”
Cool fingers touch my cheeks and comb into my hair. “Gwen, hey. You’re okay. We got you. Open your eyes and look at me.”
It takes everything in me to drag myself away from the memory of my dad’s death as it spins over and over in my head. It’s strange, the experience nearly as I remember it but something was different. More clear.
“That’s it,” Mikkalo whispers. “You’re safe. You can relax.”
I sink against his taut body and flutter my eyes open, meeting Everett’s sparkling blue gaze. His sharp features soften as he suppresses his concern to offer me the smile I love. Reaching out, I run my fingers over his jaw, grazing the scruff on his cheeks. He covers my hand with his and presses it more firmly into his skin, feeling the weight of my hand.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Everett asks, tilting his head slightly.
I lick my lips and clear my throat. “Can I have a drink first?”
Everett reaches under the seat and pulls out a bag with what looks to be dinner. I wouldn’t usually eat until past dawn, but from how neatly everything sits arranged in the bag, I’m sure that Jameson wasn’t going to risk not having food for me.
Everett pours me a glass of water from a thermos.
I just stare at the clear liquid without taking it.
Extending his fangs, he pierces his arm and holds it out to me. Mikkalo loosens his grip on me, letting me scoot closer. I bring Everett’s arm to my mouth and moan softly as his sweet blood coats my tongue, washing away the bitter taste of Rochester’s final donation from my mind.
Everett hooks his arm around me and pulls me sideways into his lap so I can lean against him. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his almost musical heartbeat sounding like it’s beating just for me. Usually none of the others would watch me, but tonight, they all capture me in their stares.
It’s enough for me to pull myself away. “Thanks, Everett. That helped a lot with the bad taste in my mouth. Rochester’s blood to be exact.”
“Fuck, Gigi. Let me help too,” Jameson says.
I smile and shake my head. “Later when I can drink from all of you.”
Bronx glances at me in the rearview mirror, his face remaining expressionless though I know he’s glad that I deny Jameson. Not because he doesn’t want me to but because he wants to be able to join in.
I lean forward and squeeze his shoulder. Bronx brings his hand up and rests it on mine. “Thanks, Gwen,” he says softly.
Jameson punches him in the arm. “You guys need to get your shit together. I never thought I’d say this, but maybe we can help you get past your need to devour each other.”
“What’s the fun in that?” I tease, gliding my tongue over my teeth.
Bronx hits a few buttons on the dash to put the car on autopilot. “Careful, dandelion. I might ask Jameson to take over if you keep teasing me like that.”
“Who says I’m teasing?” Sliding off of Everett, I wiggle my way between the seats and onto Bronx’s lap.
“Teasing or not, you should come back here, Gwen,” Mikkalo says, reaching over the seat to grasp my hand. “You look ready to start something I’m not so sure we’ll be able to stop.”
“Plus, there is no fucking way Bronx would seriously let me drive,” Jameson says, fake glaring at his brother. “Especially not with how close to our contact point we are.”
“Wait, we’re almost there?” I ask.
Bronx hooks his fingers to my hips to stop me from bouncing. From the hardness of his boner, I’m probably driving him crazy.
“Almost, but try not to get too excited,” Mikkalo says. “This was only a lead. We can’t be certain that we’ll get your brother.”
I nod my head. “I know.”
“You also need to be prepared if things go to shit,” Jameson adds.
“Story of my life.” I scrunch my nose. “At least until you guys.”
The car slows, and I swivel to peer at a tall stone wall with a wrought iron gate. Bronx doesn’t move me from his lap, and no one reacts at the small tap of a finger to the window. Something freaks me out, and I can’t stop from hugging Bronx and hiding my face. It’s the first time I’ve never wanted to see what I could possibly be dealing with—but this is the first time I know things will be okay. This isn’t me and my brothers facing demented outcasts. This is my guys showing me exactly the reach of their power as the force behind the Royale Coven.
“Mr. Royales, what an unexpected surprise,” a smooth, velvety voice says, humming through the window. “Mr. Brentwood will be pleased by your arrival. Please, come with me.”
Bronx opens the door and slides out of the car with me still in his arms. Mikkalo steps in front of us while Everett takes our side and Jameson positions himself behind. I realize they’re protecting me by circling me.
“Don’t talk or look at anyone,” Bronx whispers in my ear.
“Then maybe don’t let me go,” I say.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
The world blurs, the sudden movement making my head spin for a few seconds after we stop. I can’t resist easing my face away from Bronx’s shoulder, and I meet Jameson’s green eyes. He stands close enough to Bronx’s back that if I stretched my neck a little, I could kiss him. I consider it for all of a second, but a loud, warm laugh reverberates through the grand room to soak into my bones.
“What an honor it is to have the Royale Coven grace me with their presence,” a man says from somewhere behind me. “But where is Zaire?”
“He’s away on business,” Bronx says. “And I must ask you to keep our visit discreet, Brentwood. You know how Zaire gets.”
Brentwood roars a laugh. “I won’t say I’m not pleased by his absence. Now, come on. I have dinner on the table. Join me. I even have something for...that lovely little thing.”
Bronx stiffens.
“May I see her?” Brentwood asks.
“No.” Bronx’s deep tone snaps through the air. “And she will not be joining us. May I request a room?”
“Of course. But what a pity. You know I’ll keep my hands to myself, dear friend.”
“Your brothers might not,” Mikkalo says. “Or must I remind you of the Vaduva ball?”
What the hell is a Vaduva ball?
Brentwood heaves a sigh. “I suppose you’re right.” He claps his hands. “Ms. Stephanie, please show Mr. Royales to a guest room and retrieve whatever they’d like.”
“Thank you,” Bronx says. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to rejoin you in an hour to discuss a few...regional issues.”
“Splendid. My home is your home.”
Soft footsteps sound through the air, and Bronx shifts me in his arms. It takes me a moment to realize that the man vanished without as much as a goodbye. Gathering my nerve, I pull away from Bronx and catch sight of a petite woman in a uniform not unlike the one Bronx had me wear that was intended for the staff I still have never even seen at Night Palms Castle.
The woman, Ms. Stephanie, keeps her head bowed, staring at the floor. She guides us up a huge spiral staircase that takes us to an entertainment room with comfy couches, wall projection screens displaying a movie I’ve never seen, a pool table, a swing hanging
from the ceiling, and a group of humans—mostly female—swaying to music on a small dance floor. While I don’t see any vampires, I know these people are part of the entertainment. At least they look to be having a great time.
“Some households control their staff by treating them as if they’re above the general population,” Bronx says. “It encourages loyalty and population growth. Staff members who procreate usually have a clause in their work contracts that require blood donations to the coven’s personal staff. The Hunter Coven rules Sky Canyon in our region and has one of the largest self-made staff—so large that they no longer receive gen. pop. blood.”
I raise my eyebrows and turn to look at the women. It’s then that I notice the bulging belly of a blonde who doesn’t look much older than me. She perches on a chair in only a bikini while a man paints her toenails.
“Don’t stare too long, Gwen,” Everett whispers. “It’s considered rude to focus on the staff.”
I avert my eyes. “I’ve never seen a pregnant woman before. She looks so...happy. Not what I’d expect from someone who...they don’t force them to be baby-makers, right?”
“If they were, they’d be stripped of power and most likely sentenced to death. Donor Life Corp favors females and has laws to assure no coven manipulates the population unnaturally. Blood adds to power, and alliances wear thin.” Mikkalo leans in closer to me. “Too much population growth requires transfers and adjustments to the regions.”
“Sounds complicated,” I say.
“With good reason,” Bronx says. “But let’s talk about this later. You can’t control the volume of your voice when you’re on edge. This kind of discussion isn’t meant for human ears. You’d have to accept a Blood Vow before we could really get into things...at least in other households.”
“A Blood Vow?”
“Gigi, later,” Jameson says.
I glare at him. He knows how curious I get about everything, and once one of them opens up, I know they’ll spill all their secrets. Bronx must realize it or else he wouldn’t have said anything.
Ms. Stephanie comes to a stop outside a set of double doors. “Your room, Mr. Royales,” she says, keeping her voice low.