Ache (Vampire Beloved Book Three)

by R. E. Butler

  Ache

  Vampire Beloved Book Three

  By R. E. Butler

  Copyright 2020 R. E. Butler

  Ache (Vampire Beloved Book Three)

  By R. E. Butler

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Cover by Jacqueline Sweet

  This ebook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is coincidental.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and is intended for those older than the age of 18 only.

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  Edited by Missy Borucki

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  Special thanks to Wild Shifter Babes Reader Group member Kelly Guadalupe for choosing the name of Lady M’s book-loving cat, Poppy.

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  Thanks to Joyce, Shelley, and Ann for beta reading.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Coming Next from R. E. Butler

  Contact the Author

  Other Books by R. E.

  Next in the Vampire Beloved Series

  Ache (Vampire Beloved Book Three)

  By R. E. Butler

  Two-hundred-year-old vampire Bellamin wants nothing more than to find his beloved mate, and he holds out hope that he’ll be the first vampire to ever feed from her. When he scents his mate in the club one night, he’s disappointed when he realizes she’s paid food for the members of the coven but decides he doesn’t care about her past.

  Kelly Archer doesn’t consider herself impulsive, but when her sister Selma is in danger of losing her job as paid food at the vampire club and begs Kelly to take her place, she decides to do something entirely out of character. Donning her sister’s revealing clothing, Kelly ventures to the club and is almost through her shift when she meets Bellamin.

  Bellamin knows she’s his beloved, but his prejudice and Kelly’s fraud threatens to tear their budding romance apart. And the moment he gets back into her good graces, an old enemy appears.

  Kelly’s no average human, and when the uniqueness of her family history is exposed, Bellamin must keep her safe. But can he keep her by his side forever?

  Chapter One

  Kelly Archer finished marking the discounted books and set them in an arc on the display table at the front of the store. She loved this place. Lady M’s Books had been a haven to her when she was a teenager and looking for more romance books than she could find in the local library. The always interesting Lady M herself—Margot to her family and friends—had taken her under her wing, eventually offering her the first and only job she’d ever had. Although the pay wasn’t fabulous—Kelly was never going to own a private island—she loved being surrounded by books. There was honestly nothing better. She could lose herself for hours in the store, digging through the boxes of donated books that she’d then clean and shelve in the hopes of sending them to a good home someday. She couldn’t help but feel as if the books themselves had feelings. That they wanted to be read and loved and passed along to someone else.

  “What do you think?” She stepped back from the table and studied the books she’d laid out, looking at Poppy, the resident curator of all things yarn and mouse.

  “Are you talking to me, dear?” Margot called from the back.

  “No, Poppy.”

  Margot walked down an aisle, stopping to place a book back in its home and smiled. “And did her highness answer?”

  “She did not! But that’s okay, I think she approves.”

  “Oh, it does look lovely.” Margot looked over the table display with a smile. “I hope some of these books find homes.”

  “Do you think books have feelings?”

  “Well, not really, I don’t think. But I do think they absorb the feelings of the people who read them, so in a way yes. They have an aura to them.”

  Kelly tilted her head. “Aura? Like the glowing colors psychics talk about?”

  “Other supernatural creatures can see and sense auras besides psychics. Technically speaking, inanimate objects can’t have an aura, but there’s something about old books.”

  “I’ve always loved the smell of them,” Kelly said. “Makes me think of my grandma.”

  “The one who gave you books when she’d come for a visit?”

  Nodding, she thought back to how she’d run out of the house when her grandma pulled into the driveway, so excited to see what she’d brought. Her grandma had passed away when Kelly was in high school, and she’d taken solace in reading the favorites she’d left to her in her will. Those special books held a place of honor on one of the many bookshelves in her bedroom.

  Margot put an arm around her. “I wish I’d had a chance to meet her, but she lives on in your memories, and the love of books you share with others. I still think you should have gone to college to be a librarian, but I’ll happily keep you here with me.”

  “I love it here.” And she hadn’t had the money for anything quite so glamorous as a library science degree, but she’d loved her job since the moment she got it and she wouldn’t change a thing about her life.

  Well, she might like a new pair of shoes for spring.

  Margot bent and scratched behind Poppy’s ears, getting rewarded with a loud purr. “Shouldn’t you be out finding a nice young man to have dinner with? Or go dancing?”

  Kelly gave an inelegant snort. “When have you ever known me to go dancing?”

  “I’m just saying. The night is young and so are you.” Margot straightened.

  “Maybe, but I’ll still curl up with a book and a cup of tea when I get home anyway. Selma’s the one that’s always out being rowdy.”

  Her younger sister was the wild one. Popular in school, where Kelly had been content with a few close friends. Always out on dates, where she’d only had a handful of boyfriends over the years. They shared an apartment, but she really didn’t see Selma much anymore, not since she’d taken a job as a blood donor for a vampire club in downtown Cleveland. She shivered, thinking about her sister being willing to let a stranger put their fangs in her neck or wrist.

  The pay was great, but daggone.

  Kelly had never let someone feed from her, and she didn’t plan to.

  “What are you thinking about so seriously?” Margot asked, tilting her head.

  “Vampires.”

  “Ah. Well, your sister is living the life, isn’t she? She only works a couple days a week and makes a lot more money than you or I do.”

  “Have you ever had a vampire bite you?”

  “No. I try to steer clear of them.”


  “Why?”

  Margot opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything, which piqued Kelly’s curiosity. Then she simply shrugged and said, “Family history, my dear. Now, off with you! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” she reminded her.

  “Oh, yes, of course. Then I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “With bells on.”

  Grabbing her jacket and purse from under the front desk, she said goodbye to her boss and the cat, and hustled to the front door. As the cool evening air swept in, she nearly fell over a box on the sidewalk.

  “Margot?” she called.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “There’s a box on the sidewalk with the store’s address but no name.”

  “Oh? Odd. We’ve already gotten the deliveries for today.” Her boss joined her and looked down at the box, giving it a tap with her foot before bending over and reading the label. “There’s no sending address.”

  “Do you want to call the police?”

  “Why would we do that?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a box left on the sidewalk with no return address. Just being cautious, I guess.”

  Margot inhaled, her slim shoulders raising with the motion, and Kelly swore that her eyes changed color, flashing to an odd silver before returning to the natural hazel she was so used to seeing. Then Margot bent and lifted the box, carrying it inside. Curious, Kelly followed her and watched her cut the tape with a small knife and open the flaps.

  Kelly hummed in surprise. “Books.”

  “It would appear so,” Margot said. She lifted the books out one by one and inspected them, setting each one on the counter.

  “Why would someone send books without a note?” Kelly asked when the box was empty.

  Margot was silent for long enough that Kelly looked at her and cleared her throat. Margot startled.

  “What, dear?”

  “Any thoughts on who might have sent these?”

  “Not a clue. It’s strange.” She placed her hand on one book and sighed. “Well, it’s possible someone passed away and a relative boxed up their books and sent them here. We are listed online as taking book donations.”

  Kelly read the spines, noting that they all appeared to be either cooking or travel books. “What are you going to do with them?”

  Margo gave her a smile. “Well, on Monday, you can clean and catalog them, and then check online to see if the titles are valuable. You’re so much better at it than I am.”

  “You think one of these might be worth something?”

  “Hard to say. You never know with books.”

  She helped her repack the books in the box, and then carried it into the storage room in the back.

  “Now I’m off until Monday,” Kelly said.

  “Take care, my dear.”

  A cool drizzle started as soon as the front door closed behind Kelly, and she lifted her hood and hurried to her car. By the time she reached the apartment she shared with her sister, she was tired and glad to be home. As she expected, the apartment was empty because Selma worked on Saturday nights at the club.

  For a moment, she considered following Margot’s advice. She could give Selma a call and ask to meet up with her at the club. It might be exciting to go there and see what it was about. But just as quickly as the idea surfaced, she pushed it away. That was just so not her. She hadn’t done a reckless thing in her life, and at twenty-five, she really didn’t plan to start now.

  Instead of heading out into the night, she planned to wash a load of laundry, make a pot of her favorite lemon tea, and settle in with a new book. It might not be exciting, but it was her favorite way to spend the night.

  * * *

  Kelly balanced the basket of freshly laundered clothes on one hip and unlocked the apartment door. She kicked the door shut and heard an answering groan from her sister’s room.

  Looking at the clock on the wall, she frowned when she saw it was after nine. Selma was supposed to be at the club at sunset, ready to donate.

  Setting the basket down on the couch, she knocked lightly on her sister’s bedroom door. “Sel? Are you okay?”

  She heard another groan and worry spun through her. Opening the door, she peered into the darkness and clicked on the overhead light.

  “Ah, shit,” Selma groaned, pulling the blanket over her head and rolling away.

  Waving a hand in front of her face, Kelly walked to the window and opened the blinds, then tugged the glass upward to let in the night air. “It smells like a distillery in here. Aren’t you supposed to be at the club by now?”

  Damn, she hated when she sounded like their mother. They’d lost her a few years ago, and Kelly felt obligated to keep that same watchfulness their mother had over Selma, who seemed to enjoy making bad decisions and worrying about the outcome later.

  “I’m... sick. I’m so sick,” Selma said weakly from underneath the blanket.

  “No, I think you’re hungover. You need to get up and go to work. Didn’t the manager at the club say if you missed another night you’d be fired? You only work a few nights a week and you get paid like you’re a heart surgeon. Don’t blow this.”

  Selma lifted her head, and then made a terrible face, racing to the bathroom and throwing up in loud, heaving gasps.

  “See?” Kelly said as she leaned against the bathroom’s doorjamb. “Hung over, not sick.”

  “I can’t go in like this,” Selma said as she curled over the toilet like it was her best friend. “They won’t let you be food if you’re drunk, the blood runs too fast.”

  “So sober up.”

  “I was supposed to be there already. I’m done. I’m so fucking done there.” She sobbed and wretched, and Kelly wrinkled her nose.

  Turning away, she left Selma to her vomit and toilet hugging, and picked up the laundry basket, heading to her bedroom. As she was neatly folding her undies, her sister appeared in the doorway, holding onto the doorjamb for dear life.

  “You have to go in for me.”

  “Excuse me?” Kelly asked.

  “Take my place tonight at the club. I’ll call and say I’m running late because of car trouble. You can be me tonight.”

  “We’re not twins.”

  “We look similar. And besides, they only glance at the ID,” she said emphatically. She paused for a moment, stifling a deep burp, and then let out a gusty sigh. “You can wear my clothes and drive my car. It’s perfect.”

  “Except I’ve never let a vampire put their fangs in me! I don’t want to do that. It’s weird and scary.”

  “Nah, it’s not so bad. Most of them are nice, especially at the club. You can say you only want to feed at the wrist; it’s not so intimate. And really, if you stick to the shadows and stay off the dance floor most likely no one will approach you, especially this late. Please. Please!” Selma’s eyes were watery, but whether it was because she was about to cry or because she was about to throw up, Kelly didn’t know.

  There was a moment of silent pleading, and despite Kelly’s irritation, sisterly duty reared its head. Kelly couldn’t afford the rent by herself, and if Selma lost her job, it could conceivably take her a while to find another one, assuming she didn’t get slammed with a bad reputation from the club with future employers.

  “Come on,” Selma whined. “Please. I’ll owe you forever.”

  “You owe me more favors than you could return in a lifetime,” Kelly pointed out. “I’ve covered for you for years. I really think I have a problem, you know? I should let you fall on your ass with this and get fired, but the truth is you need the job. I just... don’t want to do this. I’m scared.”

  “You don’t have any reason to be, I promise. There are nights when no one asks me to feed them. I’m not super close with any of the other food because Cella doesn’t encourage fraternization during work hours.”

  “This is the first and last time I’ll cover for you at this job.”

  It was an empty threat. Kelly loved her sister and would always be
there to help. They’d been raised to never turn their back on family.

  “I promise. I messed up last night and went drinking with some friends, and it got out of hand. I’m paying the price today.”

  “Actually I think I’m going to pay the price,” Kelly said ruefully.

  “Go take a shower and use my body wash.”

  “What’s wrong with mine?” She had a favorite that smelled like coconuts.

  “Vamps are big on scent, and they encourage us to use unscented products. I guess some of the chemicals make us taste bad.”

  “Gross.”

  “Hold on, let me throw up first.” Selma disappeared and Kelly sighed as she stared at the empty doorway.

  She couldn’t believe she was going to do this. It was possibly the craziest thing she’d ever done. But she was going to swallow her fears and do it because family was everything.

  Chapter Two

  After sunset, Bellamin cleaned his apartment and then decided to head to the club for a drink. He could use bagged blood, gathered from donation facilities around the state, where humans who didn’t want to have fangs in their neck or wrist could choose a needle instead. But the club made it easy to feed from live donors because they hired them to be available during work hours.

  There were rules, of course. A vampire had to ask the donor to feed them. Food could refuse, but if they were in the habit of saying no—basically not doing the work they were hired to do—then they could get fired. There were some people who liked the idea of feeding vampires, but once they were in the club, the old fight-or-flight instinct caught up with them and they grew fearful of being around so many predators. Generally, he liked to pick donors that were fairly new on the scene. He likened being paid food to being a prostitute in some ways—money exchanged for a physical act—but he usually kept that opinion to himself.