Presidential Vampire: First Sun [Presidential Vampire, Book One]: A Young Adult Vampire Romance

by Holly Hook

  “Becky told me what happened. But we have no proof that anyone from the panel tried to kill you. That's a leap of judgment, don't you think?” she asks.

  “Who else would it be?”

  Zara smiles. “I hear you made Senator Goodman squirm. No one ever does that to the Majority Leader. We need you, and if you work on a few things, you can be a precious asset. I will talk to my daughter about this.” Then she narrows her eyes at me, waiting for my answer.

  Click. Click. Click.

  The noise is driving me nuts and adding to the thickness of the air.

  “I don't think that'll work,” I say plainly. “Just talking to her, I mean.”

  “Really, you plan to go back to your family?” Zara shakes her head at me. “I don't think that'll work, either.”

  My heart drops into my stomach. “Why do you keep giving me this cryptic message? Just tell me what you mean.”

  The elevator gives up and finally rises again. And Zara reaches into her leather bag, producing a tablet.

  “You may find this interesting.”

  She presses an icon on the tablet and then holds it out to me as a video struggles to load. Once it does, I see some security footage. A small modern house with large glass windows takes up one side of the video. The surrounding landscape is well-kept, and a shiny new truck occupies the driveway on the right side of the screen. The porch light is on, and there's a man getting out of the truck to go inside. He doesn’t even look at the camera that must hide in a shrub.

  I take a sharp breath.

  He has dark hair, a neat beard, and a distinctive tattoo of a horse on his forearm.

  It's Mike. My brother, just getting home from a long day working at the construction office. As I watch, he walks closer to the camera and towards the front door, oblivious that he's being watched.

  “What the hell?” I ask.

  “That's why I highly suggest that you stay, Ember,” Zara says, putting the tablet away. “You wouldn't want anything to happen to Mike, especially since he's worked so hard to go where most humans never get to go. That would be sad. Now, are you going to come back to dinner?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I barely remember returning to dinner.

  I find myself next to Silvia, who notices something is on the tenth level of Not Right. She keeps looking at me between bites, switching her gaze between my face and the dinner jacket that is obviously not mine.

  Zara shoots me only one warning glare after she sits back at her table, and there's zero desperation in it. That means she has control here, and all I can do is follow her rules.

  I'm trapped.

  Or my brother dies.

  We human panelists are prisoners, and only I seem to know. Victor has cheered up some, and he talks to Ariana and Colleen on the other side of the table. Becky looks at me with sympathy, nodding her head and letting me know she understands what happened at the apartment. But is she in on this, or is she a prisoner of the vamps, too?

  Becky, once again, is indulging in wine. There’s my answer.

  I just know one other thing.

  The vampires do not have happy intentions for us, and they consider us threats to boot.

  And I notice all too well when Beatrice bites into the male server's neck, and he takes it in exchange for some bills. The blood bag staggers away and pockets his cash once Beatrice lets him go.

  Why not kill us now?

  We're going to be food at the end of this, and they want to study our weaknesses first.

  I can't answer these questions now while I’m stuck in fight-or-flight mode. I choke down a few bites of my food before pushing my plate away, and as dessert comes out on another cart, I catch Jeremy's gaze at the other table.

  We stare at each other for a few seconds as his agents stand at attention at the corners of the room, and he gives me a tiny nod.

  Does he know what just happened?

  Beatrice tugs on his suit sleeve, and Jeremy morphs his expression into one of disgust at me before he turns and says something to her. He’s probably talking about having to save himself from the sight of me.

  When dinner concludes, Becky happily tells me that my new apartment will receive a shipment of new furniture in the morning. I'll just have to lie on the couch in the meantime, and a new wardrobe will arrive as well. I'll just need to be up for that. I nod as we depart and Zara gives me one last stare from her table.

  She’s smiling.

  Zara knows a lot of things that I don't.

  It's my hope that she stops Beatrice from trying any more shit and that she finds my temper valuable after all. That she thinks she can bring me into line. Staying alive even another week depends on that.

  I say nothing as we step out of the restaurant, and Silvia doesn't either. She's already picked up that something is even more wrong, and the way she narrows her eyes at me as we stand at the front door tells me that.

  Is my phone bugged? Can I even warn her?

  Or will that not even matter? I bet that if Silvia tries to leave, they'll off her family, too. Her parents and younger sister are still staying in shelters, but they all have cell phones with GPS. That's probably all the vamps need.

  And how the hell did they find my brother?

  Well, they are the government with access to fancy surveillance tools.

  We're dead.

  “Ember?” Silvia asks as our cab pulls up. Apparently she ordered one, though it would take less time to walk. She's smarter than I am.

  “We can't talk right now,” I say, pulling out my phone and shutting it off. I give her my most serious look as we get into the back of the cab, and the driver takes us to the front of our apartment complex.

  Silvia doesn't turn her phone off until we get inside, and I don't say a word until we reach my new apartment. I unlock it and we go into the mostly empty space. The bare cabinets and the single couch greet me, which is where I'll be sleeping tonight. But at least there is no blood and no big picture window anyone can break through.

  Silvia faces me. “Ember, this has been a weird night. First, your apartment, and then you show up wearing a dinner jacket that belongs to a guy. It was Jeremy who walked into the dinner right behind you.” Her jaw drops. “Either a guard was friendly, or there's something you're not telling me.”

  Despite my horror and although Jeremy did this to “spare himself embarrassment,” I blush. “I tried to run to the restaurant dressed in plain clothes. Two vampires tried to harass me, and Jeremy stopped his SUV and gave me a ride. I made him late, apparently, and he didn't like me going to dinner in this shirt.” I hold the jacket open, and Silvia's jaw drops.

  “You wore that?” she asks, her shoulders dropping in relief. She thinks this is just about our interaction, and that there isn't so much more to this than she knows.

  I swallow.

  Silvia deserves the truth, and I have to give it to her. Will Zara kill her or anyone else if I spill the beans? But it's not as if Silvia can leave either, and she needs every edge she can get to survive. The vampires find her a threat, too, along with the other activists who were at that dinner.

  Could this be why so many people go missing or kill themselves after spending so much time here? Is that what happened to Justin Loftis and so many others? How the hell did Emmy survive for so long, then?

  For all I know, she's a roper for this, but that makes little sense either. Maybe the vampires only go after young activists and leave older people alone. Young blood must taste better.

  “Sit down,” I tell Silvia after a pause.

  Her shoulders go back up. “There's more, isn't there? You know, it's probably not safe to associate with Jeremy. He's soulless. And he's high status.”

  He's high status. No shit. But he seems to know about the danger, too.

  Was he trying to warn me before I got enmeshed in this?

  That's insane, so I push the thought aside and motion for Silvia to sit.

  And I start with my apartment switch and end wit
h Zara's threat.

  By the time I finish, Silvia's lower lip quivers.

  “What? What the hell? She knows where your brother is?” She grabs the edge of the couch.

  “She had the camera. It was his house. I've seen photos of it before. That means they either hacked into his security camera or they installed their own.”

  “Shit, Ember. This is my fault,” Silvia says, burying her face into her hands as she struggles to speak. “I wanted to stay, and I know you stayed for me.” Sobs rack her back as she does her best to hold in the sound. I die inside as I watch her.

  Wah, wah. Complain a little harder, would you?

  No. I know how much that sucks to hear when you're at your lowest. Am I supposed to put my hand on her back? I do that, and Silvia takes slower breaths as she regains control.

  “It's not your fault. I stayed because home is hell for me, too, and I wanted to fight Dream Developers,” I say. “I thought this would be my chance to make a difference.” I've got to be strong for her. “We need to stick together if we want to get through this. We don't even know what's happening yet, but I don't think they'll kill us right away. They've packed our schedule full to when Congress votes on these new laws. And there must be another reason they're having us visit a ton of lawmakers.”

  Silvia lifts her head, and her eyes are red and watery. “You think so?”

  “I don't know for sure, but we have to keep our eyes out. They're spending a lot of money on their potential food,” I say. I feel better when I say that, because it's true. “Something else is going on, and we need to figure out what it could be.”

  “But how?” Silvia asks. “They can have control by keeping us in the dark. Sure, it's possible they don't want their program to look bad by stopping us from leaving after we signed on, but I really don't know.” She's struggling to hold it together.

  Yeah. It's possible. But is it so important that they threaten our families?

  “All I know right now,” I say, choosing my words carefully, “is that we need to look like we're on our best behavior, and we need the answers before we decide what to do next.”

  * * * * *

  After the guys Becky hired come in at dawn to bring in new furniture and a new, ironed wardrobe for me, I can barely stay awake. They set things up, taking the burden off me, and Silvia leaves me alone as the magic happens.

  I lie on the couch, watching as Becky, who has bags under her eyes and probably a hangover, oversees the operation. Pink morning light streams in through the window.

  Are you a roper for whatever evil plan the vamps have for us? I want to ask. But that goes against the best behavior part of the plan. Maybe it's best to act scared and small.

  I feel scared and small.

  “There, Ember,” Becky reassures me. “I'll talk to security and make sure no one else gets in. By the way, you did very well against Senator Goodman last night. You have an approach that we don’t see here too often, and I like that. Keep it up.” She winks.

  “I'm blunt,” I admit, curling up on the couch. You need to work on a few things. Zara wants me to tiptoe around the problem and let the government delude themselves into thinking they're doing the right thing. I must make her uncomfortable.

  Becky grins. “We need that. I know some people want band-aid solutions. It's difficult to admit to yourself that you're hurting people. FHDA thinks they're the good guys. I believe their hearts are in the right place, but they need to fix some issues.”

  “No kidding.” Maybe Becky is oblivious to our hostage situation, or she's just a superb actress.

  What the hell is Zara's plan, anyway? I'm just to be her mouthpiece for her stupid ideas. And if I'm not, will she have my brother killed? I want to warn him, but my phone has passed through so many security hands that anyone could have bugged it.

  Once my apartment’s complete with some 70s-style art, I can settle down on my new bed and sleep. Now that the sun is up, Silvia and I should be safe. No vampire will have the strength to climb the building in the daytime, and they feel like they've got a nasty case of the flu in daylight, anyway.

  I wish I knew where they all lived.

  But there's a reason they have guards for the daytime hours.

  When I wake, I realize that the last of the day's light is vanishing. We're supposed to have the day off, as it's Saturday, and Becky thought we'd need it after facing Goodman. I'm glad we have weekends to breathe. Next week, we talk to the Minority leader and then go to the House building to talk to a couple of “easier” Representatives, one of whom is from Florida.

  I sit up off the bed, stiff.

  I've slept way too long and wasted the safe daylight hours. And my heart thumps as I remember Zara's threat.

  My phone rests on my new nightstand.

  I've got to text Mike to make sure he's okay. Why the hell didn’t I do that first?

  Hey, bro. How's it going? Things are exciting here.

  I hold my breath, and I wait. Maybe I can send him a code or cipher, something to tell him to get out of there, and I can figure out something for Silvia's family as well. But what if he's already dead and drained? I laid here and slept while he could have been getting attacked.

  My phone buzzes.

  Great! Got a new client, so I was up super late last night getting materials ready. Things are moving.

  I breathe out.

  Mike's alive. Well, probably. The only way to know for sure will be to hear his voice. But this text sounds like him, and he's sent me that thumbs-up that he always does.

  I want to burst and spill everything. Can I check my phone for updates? See if something suspicious got installed?

  Someone knocks.

  Silvia. Of course she'll want to check on me. “Coming!” I shout, because I'm still in my offensive T-shirt and underwear. I throw on my jeans and a plain tan blouse, running my hand through my hair before I answer.

  But when I open the door, I realize that the tall, well-built, suited vampire inclining his head towards me is not Silvia at all.

  I take a sharp breath as he tucks a strand of long hair behind his perfect ear and studies me with emerald and ruby eyes.

  “Jeremy?” I ask. “What the hell?”

  “What the hell?” he parrots, mocking me. Then he sets his expression and works his jaw. “I bet you've been saying that all day. And by the way, I'm coming in.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The whole thing about vampires needing an invitation to come into your home is a myth they made up centuries ago to make people think they were safe sleeping at night. And Jeremy falsifies that myth by just barging into my apartment and standing there with his arms crossed, as if daring me to do something.

  My heart palpitates. Why does he have to be so hot?

  “You can't come into this building. No vampires allowed,” I say, waiting for him to grin, but he just stands still as two Secret Service men, one human and one vampire, come in behind him and stand on either side of my door. The human, a blond man with a buzz cut, closes and locks it. The vampire's nostrils flare as he sniffs out my apartment. He’s probably searching for any assassins hiding in my closet or shower. Vampires have a sense of smell that surpasses bloodhounds, right?

  “Yes, I can. I got clearance from your security. So long as a vampire comes before sundown, they can enter this complex,” Jeremy explains with an infuriating calm. “By the way, I trust these agents.”

  My throat dries even as my body tingles at the sight of him. Every angle is perfect. Jeremy is every hottie rolled into one, amplified. He's so gorgeous, so graceful, and so dangerous. Why is he here?

  Should I call for help?

  I reach for my phone, but Jeremy's eyes widen, and he glares at me. “Drop that.”

  I do so out of shock.

  “Are you here to kill me?” I ask, eyeing my small window. There's still orange sunlight on the horizon. It's not full night yet. How strong is Jeremy right now?

  The First Son draws closer, just like a cat a
bout to pounce. “What do you think?”

  “I know I'm a prisoner,” I say, getting it out as sweat gathers on the back of my neck. “And that someone wants to kill me.” If the time is now, I'll have no say in it. Maybe Jeremy wanted to save me for himself.

  He nods. “You didn't listen to my warnings, so now you're on trial.” I spot a hint of his fangs just under those sculpted lips, and I wonder what those lips would feel like. My body keeps betraying me. Do I want to die?

  “On trial?”

  Jeremy gives me a sharp nod and motions me to the leather couch. “I can't stay for long. I have an image to keep up.”

  I refuse to sit. But instead of snapping at me, Jeremy's expression softens and he frowns.

  “I'm sorry you're here,” he says. “It's scary.”

  That makes me take a step back, closer to where the agents stand. “You're sorry? Yeah, I believe that. Since I got here, you've been laughing at our misfortune.” My mind spins. Jeremy Haywood is in my apartment and I'm not dead yet. The more I'm around him, the more I see that there's something underneath that ego of his. It could be a spider’s web, but I’ve got to see what it is.

  “That's expected of me,” Jeremy says, flashing his fangs. “Haven't you seen this world? Victimize or be victimized. Be the predator or the prey. It's natural selection, and you're on the evolutionary stage.”

  A shudder races up my spine. “I got that idea.” Despite what's best for me, I head to the couch and sit. Could Jeremy have answers?

  “Good,” Jeremy says.

  I don't like his patronizing tone. “I'm not a dog.”

  Jeremy moves his lips like he wants to apologize. “By the way, I did not wreck your last apartment. There's no proof of their involvement for sure, but Beatrice and her friends have it out for you. I think you scare them.” He punctuates his sentence with a wicked grin.

  My entire body lights again and sweat gathers under my shirt as Jeremy stands over me. He grins as I sit there, eye level with his hips. Ugh. Even if he is trying to help me after all, he's still an ass.

  “I scare them?” I ask.