The Born Vampire series: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Complete Series, NSFW Edition)

by Elizabeth Dunlap

  Putting my reaction into words was an impossibility. With a sharp intake of breath, I held it together for their benefit. “I’m not Arthur.”

  Waiting until they’d closed the door behind them, I slowly closed my eyes and curled my hands to fists at my sides. That bastard had made a human sleep on the fucking floor. There was no curse word, no insult, no nothing worse than that offense, short of killing a human without just cause.

  I was probably having a hormonal mood swing when I stomped a death march out of my rooms, but I didn’t care. I rode that mood swing down the stairs, through a hallway, and out to the backyard. Arthur was on the veranda, sitting at one of the café tables, sipping some very strong coffee like an asshole. Without ceremony, I slammed my fist down on the table in a rage, breaking it in half. Coffee splattered over his dark grey t-shirt and he scrambled to avoid it.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded angrily. I was probably crazy to provoke him, but at the moment I didn’t care. I was too pissed off.

  We’d drawn the attention of everyone else on the patio. Olivier was suddenly beside me, and she grabbed my arm, probably trying to make sure I wasn’t about to strangle Arthur, and she was right to fear my wrath. I pulled free from her hands and glared at the subject of my anger.

  “I don’t know what you were fucking thinking when you took leadership of my companions, but you clearly have no idea of the protocols involved with that.” A slight twinge came to my belly and I took a deep breath to cool off. “You have offended several of the rules we practice here.”

  “I haven’t broken any laws,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  “You made my companions sleep on the floor,” I spat venomously.

  Othello had arrived to hear my accusation, and instantly turned on Arthur with surprise. “Is this true, Arthur?” he demanded.

  Arthur, for the life of him, had no guilt in his face. “They’re army men. They can take it. I saw nothing wrong with it. My priority was–”

  “Your priority was caring for them!” Othello’s voice was reaching my level of anger. We had become a united front at last. “The humans we house here are never treated with such disrespect. I will give no allowances because of your status as a Hunter, and if this is the level of treatment you and the other Hunters give humans, then you are not fit to be in charge of them.”

  I could see when Arthur finally soaked in the gravity of what he’d done, even if he thought it was stupid. He turned to me and said, “I apologize for what I did. How can I make it right?”

  Othello was the one that answered, because I couldn’t find my voice. “All of you are suspended. You and the rest of the Hunters will remain here and be instructed in social protocols by Lisbeth and Olivier. And if I ever get a whiff of this behavior from you or from any of the other Hunters again, you will be stripped of your status as their leader.” Arthur nodded humbly and left the patio as the gathered group dispersed, like a dog with his tail between his legs.

  Still beside me, Olivier gently touched my arm. “You okay?” I nodded to her. I’d been so angry that my fangs had almost come down. I took a deep breath to calm myself.

  Othello angrily pulled on the edge of his jacket and smoothed down his greasy black hair, turning to me. “I apologize, Lisbeth. When I gave him custody of your companions, I assumed he knew what that entailed,” he said. It was nice to have him on my side again. “Are your companions alright now?” He said it so gently, like we were discussing babies instead of grown men.

  “I sent them shopping for furniture and such. They didn’t know that was allowed.”

  Othello sighed with a weary glance to the heavens. “What is this world coming to…” he muttered. “You’re fine with instructing the Hunters?”

  “I’ll do my best. As in, I’ll try not to strangle Arthur. No promises.” He smirked and went back inside the castle.

  Olivier waited until we were alone to comment. “You have no idea what you’re in for. You can’t handle Hunters. They’re a different class of vampire.”

  “This is my world, Olivier. I can do anything.”

  I‘d like to say my confidence had been well placed, but it wasn’t. However, I was determined, and that almost made up for it.

  The Hunters were less than pleased at their new arrangement. We assigned them new rooms because they’d all been bunking it without permission in the smaller drawing-room. They thought living in actual rooms was too stuffy. Embrace the stuffy, people. Embrace it.

  By the time the Hunters had gotten settled and agreed to a schedule for their lessons, a week had gone by and they were antsy to get this over with. That didn’t bode well for me.

  Hunter class was being held in the smaller drawing-room, since they clearly all knew where it was. Twenty-nine Hunters had been on the chase when I was the target, but that was every Hunter from all over the globe. The number in America was smaller. Eight Hunters sat in the smaller drawing-room, lounging on chairs, sitting on top of things you’re not supposed to sit on, and they all looked at me like they wanted my head to spontaneously combust.

  It took ten minutes to get them to stop talking. I got their attention by threatening to revoke their feeding privileges, which as Hunters meant they could feed discreetly amongst the populous. Yeah, that’s right. Lisbeth doesn’t play the fuck around.

  “Lesson number one,” I started. I was instantly hit with a loud “Boooo!” from one of the girls in the back. She was sitting on a low bookshelf that was not meant for someone’s ass and had her arms crossed over her chest. I threw a pen at her. To clarify, I threw it so hard it sunk into the wall next to her head like a spear. “I am not here to play games with any of you,” I informed them frostily. “I am here to instruct you in proper respect for humans.”

  “Right, because Arthur made your ‘companions’ sleep on the floor. Big deal,” one of them said, making air quotes at the word ‘companions.’

  “You don’t understand what I’m trying to teach you. I get that. Think of it this way, you all have a respect for the law, right?” I waited for nods or a yes, anything. They remained silent like little bitches. “Try and think of that respect for the law but make it respect for humans. Would you pass on catching someone because you didn’t feel like it? No. Because you respect the law. And we don’t make humans sleep on the floor because we respect them. They keep us alive. They give us years of their lives in exchange for their blood. Without them, we’d literally starve. There is a level of esteem held for all humans that live here. They’re not pets. They’re not food.” I could see my words weren’t working. How could I explain it in a way they’d understand? “Think of them like… your favorite weapon. That weapon keeps you alive, right? You’d never leave it dirty or drop it wherever. You clean it. You keep it close by. You make sure it has what it needs to keep saving your life. Gun. Human.”

  And magically, I saw a hint of understanding light up in their eyes. Right before someone shot a fucking spitball at me.

  I went to my doctor appointments alone now. Every time I saw my daughter on the tiny digital screen, my heart leaped. She was perfection. I’d amassed a collection of ultrasound pictures, all as realistic as regular photographs. I put them in a photo album I kept in my room.

  My old suite had been very vintage. All yellows and golden tones, with furniture over a century old, and more than a few much older than that. They were all priceless pieces, from my Ming vase to my designer clothes. I gave almost all of it away. I had no interest in that life anymore. I wasn’t the Lisbeth that liked and treasured those things. I’d treasured my possessions more than I’d treasured the people I loved. It was a common vampire mentality, but I didn’t want to be like that anymore.

  The only things I kept were my favorite books, the clothes I’d bought when I was with Knight, a few trinkets from my past, and of course, my birds. The trinkets weren’t worth anything. One was a crudely carved wooden horse rattle Balthazar had made me when I was very little. All of
the edges had been smoothed out from centuries of holding it and remembering the past. The other trinkets were similar, just trivial things people had given me like a necklace or a piece of ribbon. I treasured those things, but in a different way than I’d treasured everything else. I treasured the memories, not the objects.

  My new room was larger, but like the living room, it had an almost identical floor plan to my old rooms. The wall of built-in shelves in my bedroom was mostly empty, except for one shelf of books and the trinket box. My closet held a small number of clothes and a few pairs of shoes. Everything in my suite felt too big, or I felt too small.

  I hadn’t yet decorated the rest of my suite, beyond my new birdcage. Apparently, when you throw a large amount of money at someone, they build things twice as fast. The cage was enormous, large enough for me to walk into without stooping my head. It was made out of sturdy wood that had been stained to a deep walnut color. The design made it look like a castle, with towers and little windows with glass. It was a bird palace, and I loved it.

  My birds loved it too, as much as they loved each other. They’d grown very close over the two weeks since I’d bought the purple and white lovebird. As soon as I put them in the castle and shut the door, they fluttered and flew around, singing to each other a song of joy.

  Benjamin came out of his room when he heard the birds happily chirping up a storm. “Ah, they are very happy now,” he said with a smile.

  They explored their cage and we watched them for several minutes. Eventually, they calmed down and sat together on one of the perches. They finally had room to be free, but they still chose to sit on the same branch. Just to be near each other.

  My heart hurt looking at them.

  “What are their names?” Benjamin asked, bringing me out of my momentary sorrow.

  “I don’t know. I never named them.” I didn’t know why I hadn’t done so. I wasn’t big on having pets. I guess I didn’t think it was necessary to name them.

  Benjamin clicked his tongue at me reproachfully. “They must have names. It gives them a soul.”

  “Well…” I looked at them and cycled through names I’d always loved. “The lovebird can be Kanoa. It means one who is free. And the cardinal…” I watched her flutter and smile. “Blythe. It means filled with happiness.”

  “Perfezione. Perfection. It fits them.”

  We sat there on the floor for hours, just watching the birds enjoy their freedom, without talking to each other. It was nice. Just relaxing together.

  Alfred came out of his room when it was time to feed, breaking the spell. Benjamin got up and left the suite to eat while I fed from Alfred, who then disappeared into his room again.

  I had six more months with them. Maybe things would start to change.

  In addition to instructing the Hunters in human etiquette, I was also training the turned. The group I’d helped with before running away had completed their training and were already gone. This group was new to me.

  Normally I dressed very stylishly while keeping a business aspect to my appearance. I entered the bigger drawing-room wearing a white button-down shirt and dark brown cargo pants with my long curly hair pulled back in a very thick braid. Olivier was wearing a long black dress that was much more modern than her usual style. It suited her.

  She looked up when I came in and looked me over. “Don’t you look different. I like it,” she said with a smile.

  “You look different too. No more mermaid dresses? I’m curious to know why you gave up a life of sarcasm.” She usually dressed like she was making fun of vampire stereotypes. As an answer, she rolled her shoulders up and down in a cute shrug. “Ah, so it was reviews from a certain gentleman?” I nudged her jokingly.

  “Renard can keep his opinions about my clothes to himself,” she said, sticking her tongue out.

  A knock came at the hallway door. Olivier hurried over to open it while I went to the enormous wall of windows to close the heavy green drapes. What was once a room filled with sunlight became a dark room lit only by the enormous chandelier on the ceiling.

  The turned had arrived.

  They filed into the bigger drawing-room and found seats on the couches and chairs. I wondered where that fancy Council desk had gone.

  “Good morning, everyone,” I said cheerfully. Everyone except Renard looked anything but cheerful. Renard was busy making moon eyes at Olivier. “Today’s lesson is staying with the times.” A very soft groan went around the room. “It’s important that we stay active in learning about–” More groans. “–modern technology and lingo–” Groan. “I’m sorry, is there somewhere else you’d rather be?”

  “Not here?” someone suggested, earning a round of laughter from the rest of them.

  “I’m sorry this isn’t fun, but it’s not supposed to be fun. Everything we’re teaching you is important.”

  The turned that had spoken looked somewhere between a vagabond and a rock star. He had long brown curls, a very short beard, and clothes that might not have been brown when he bought them. But as much as he looked like a homeless person, he had an air to him that meant he thought very highly of himself. He was clearly demonstrating that right now, with his dirty shoes resting on a table that was older than his grandmother.

  “Tell me something, sister,” he said with a disrespectful grin. “Did you just wake up one day and decide to be boring, or were you always like that?”

  Olivier’s hackles rose and her fingernails started growing into claws. “You watch your tone, Randall.” I waved to her to get her to calm down. I had no doubt that was how she’d been handling them in my absence. Though, I applauded that none of them were dead yet, so she hadn’t done all bad.

  “Randall, is it?” I addressed him. “You misunderstand something. We instruct you in everything we’ve learned over centuries of life so you can live centuries more.”

  “Blah blah blah, boring. I don’t want to learn how to play nicey-nice with the damn villagers. I want to go live my immortal life however the hell I want.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, trying not to display exactly how much I wanted to punch him in the face. “So, what exactly were you expecting when you came here? That we’d turn you and let you go on your merry way? It doesn’t work like that.”

  He stood up, his height towering over me, but if he was trying to intimidate me, he failed miserably. “I didn’t sign up for this to be babied and controlled. That may be your idea of what being a vampire is, but it’s not mine.” He turned and left the room, followed by the rest of the group, except for Renard and Cameron who stayed behind.

  “I should go bite his fucking head off,” Olivier grumbled.

  I doubted that would help. Something was seriously wrong with the turned, and by god, it was my job to fix it.

  9. The uninvited guests

  The turned stopped coming to their lessons. I could tell the Hunters wished they could stop coming to theirs as well, but they liked being Hunters too much to risk being kicked from the group, so they endured everything we taught them without too much grumbling.

  “Hello, my name is Sally Sue. I sure like shopping at the supermarket,” I said cheerfully. It was Hunter class, and we were going over how to feed from a human without them knowing. I was wearing a fluffy ruffled apron and had my hair in pigtails as part of the role play. Arthur stood next to me, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at me like he wanted to drop kick me out the window. “Arthur,” I encouraged in my character’s high pitched voice. “You’re supposed to respond.”

  “You look stupid,” was his answer. I waited, glaring at him with my hands on my fluffy, ruffled hips. Finally, he sighed and dropped his arms. “I knock Sally Sue out. And drag her ass into an alleyway.”

  I made a buzzing noise. “EHHH! Wrong.”

  He rolled his eyes, a rare move for him. “I wait until Sally Sue is near a dark corner, then I knock her out gently, feed from a spot she won’t notice, and leave her somewhere comfortable until she wakes up.”


  I clapped, the fluffy apron sleeves bouncing up and down. “Yay! Arthur has passed discreet feeding!” No one clapped with me.

  “Can we go now?” one of the Hunters groaned. I’d barely nodded before everyone piled out of the smaller drawing-room.

  “It seems no one appreciates my teaching methods,” I said to Olivier. She was biting her lip, trying not to laugh at my appearance. “It’s okay, you can laugh. This apron is ridiculous.”

  “Where did you find that?” she asked while I took it off. “I need a picture.” I tossed the apron in her direction so she couldn’t snap a photo of me, and then I noticed Arthur was still in the room.

  “Arthur,” I said to him, tilting my head up to meet his icy eyes. “Do you need anything?”

  He almost hesitated before answering. “I’ve heard whispers that the turned are being difficult. Is this a normal occurrence?” he asked, watching me pull the rubber bands from my hair and fluffing my curls out again.

  “They always have grumbles,” Olivier told him. “But it’s never been on this scale.”

  “Oddities are rare for us. I hope this doesn’t escalate,” he said thoughtfully.

  “We have it under control,” I assured him, though that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He still offered his services to assist us before he left, which was much more unsettling than what the turned were doing.

  A party was in order, given everything that was going on, and Olivier decided it should be a baby shower. At first I wanted it to be just friends and in my suite, but then I remembered what Othello had said. I’d isolated myself in my own home. I couldn’t keep excluding the rest of the Order. I didn’t even know all of their names.

  Party in the bigger drawing-room!

  We set the date, sent out invitations, and bought decorations. Benjamin and Alfred grudgingly assisted with the decorating part, as did Olivier’s new companion, a tiny young woman named Arabella. She was apparently a relative of Renard’s, and only spoke French. Cameron kept giving her side glances while he helped me hang streamers from the chandelier.