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

by Elizabeth Dunlap

  Memories of hunting with Olivier passed through my head, and I slowed down as the prey in my memory morphed into Arabella’s lifeless face. Arthur immediately slowed as well and stood beside me. The telepathic link faded.

  “Is the baby alright?” he asked in a worried tone, wiping the small amount of sweat from his forehead.

  “She’s fine,” I assured him, almost flushing under his concern.

  “We should keep going. We’re almost to the territory line.”

  “Ah, so that’s why I smelled dog piss,” I complained, wrinkling my nose.

  We walked further, passing the fence of the reservation, and were greeted by a stronger scent of urine. I had to put my hand over my mouth to block the stench.

  “Is this their porta potty or something?” Breathing through my mouth only made it worse, and I tried not to gag or throw up.

  “They’re marking their turf. They want to make sure it will scare off other Lycans,” Arthur said calmly, unaffected by the odor. Or just pretending nothing ever bothered him, as usual.

  “I know, but this is just overkill. Geez.” I walked faster, trying to get away from the fence and back to fresh air.

  Arthur gave me that look like I was that special kind of person who looks for their phone while holding it in their hand. I pranced past him, and straight into a Lycan’s claws. The pack had snuck up on us, using the overwhelming scent of wolf piss to mask their approach.

  The Lycan in front of me wrapped a long-fingered hand around my throat before wrenching me to the side and bringing me against his chest. I could feel his heart pounding on my back, and his acrid scent turned my stomach. I hoped my pregnancy wouldn’t make me barf on him. Blowing chunks on a Lycan would probably earn me death.

  “Let her go,” Arthur demanded, but he was in no position to make demands, as we were surrounded by a very large pack. By the looks of their faces, vampires as a whole hadn’t made a good impression on them. “We’re not here to hurt you. We just need to see your Alpha.” Arthur carefully reached to pull his shirt collar back. Beneath it, right on the chest muscle over his heart, was a tattoo of a sword rune. The symbol of the vampire Hunters.

  The Lycans weren’t impressed.

  They grabbed Arthur and dragged us away.

  Being manhandled by a pack of Lycans wasn’t exactly on my bucket list. Especially while six months pregnant. The one holding me loosened his grip on my neck when he noticed my belly, but he continued pulling me along with him.

  At the center of the reservation village was a large open area where the rest of the pack stood. They were talking amongst themselves, turning when we were brought before them. Arthur was thrown onto the ground and held with his face to the dirt. My captor pushed me down to my knees and pulled my arm at an angle that hurt.

  “Oww!” I complained, trying to get free. The Lycan backhanded me on the face. This trip was going so well.

  Surprisingly, Arthur fought his captors when he saw the Lycan slap me, and several more came to hold him down but he still managed to get to his feet. “You touch her again and I’ll rip your limbs off,” he growled out, grunting from the effort to break free.

  The group of humans and Lycans parted, and their Alpha stepped towards us. I caught his scent and recognized it. This was the pack of the pup I’d spared, and this was his Alpha, the very same that gave me his bracelet full of vampire teeth from his various kills, the bracelet that had kept me alive.

  “So,” the Alpha said, his voice full of authority, watching Arthur straining against the Lycans. “Two vampires caught on my territory. Are you here because you wish to die? It is my right to kill you.” Arthur’s struggling against the Lycans holding him down had almost gotten him free, but they had a firm hold on him and refused to budge.

  “It is also our right to kill Lycans in our borders,” I stated, hoping the Alpha would remember me and what I’d done for his pack. The Alpha stepped forward and grabbed me, pulling me up until I was standing. He looked at my face and I could tell he hadn’t noticed who I was until that moment.

  “You,” he said in revelation. What passed on his face wasn’t anger or dismissal. It was respect. “Let them go,” he ordered. His pack looked confused, but they obeyed. Arthur wiped dirt from his face when he got up. He looked pissed, his chest heaving, and he stepped closer to me.

  “I’m a Hunter.” Arthur showed his tattoo off again in an offended huff. “Your pack should’ve granted us safe passage.”

  The Alpha shrugged. “You’re not broken.” He turned back to me and lifted my arms to inspect my wrists. “You are not wearing my bracelet.”

  “I lost it,” I said regretfully. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry.” He let me go. “I hope it protected you.” I nodded. His gift had done much more than that. He flicked his wrist at the pack and they moved away. “We will talk.”

  The Alpha, whose name was Alexander, as I came to find, led us into his home. It was a simple, rustic structure that looked like he’d built it himself from nearby trees. I appreciated the unpolished style of the handmade wooden table and chairs he motioned for us to sit at. They were comfortable. I considered asking him to make me some for my new rooms, but that would probably never happen.

  “So,” he said once we’d both sat down, with Arthur insisting on sitting between me and Alexander. “What brings you to pack territory?” He offered us each a bottle of water before joining us at the head of the table. Arthur took a long swig of his, so Alexander turned his focus to me.

  Now that I was here, I found it hard to form my words into a proper sentence. How would I put it? Well, I’m here to find out if my werewolf boyfriend is dead or not so I can stop feeling guilty that I cheated on him. Too much?

  “I’m trying to find out some information on the whereabouts of a friend of mine.” There, that was neutral enough.

  Alexander raised his eyebrows. “You risked your life to ask me where your vampire friend is? Don’t you keep track of your own kind.”

  “He’s not a vampire,” Arthur chimed in. He sounded insulted, like of course we’d never consult Lycans about anything that wasn’t Lycan related. And maybe then, even not.

  “Your friend is a Lycan,” Alexander surmised.

  “A werewolf,” I clarified.

  That made his eyebrows go even higher. “One of the Marked. I heard they found one, but I didn’t believe it. And you know him? He is your friend?”

  “Friend is a relative term,” Arthur said sarcastically.

  I turned to glare at him. “I didn’t bring you here for commentary, Arthur. Shut up and drink your damn water.” Arthur grunted and I rolled my eyes in exasperation, glancing back at Alexander. A light of understanding had passed over his face.

  “The werewolf is your mate,” he said. There wasn’t judgment in his voice, surprisingly, but I caught him glancing at my belly. “His?”

  “No,” I affirmed. It was silly to even ask. Even if he and I had gone beyond dry humping, I’d never heard of a Lycan/vampire child. Were-pire. That sounded good. No. I’d never heard of a were-pire. What would my child with Balthazar be? Vam-cubus. Incu-pire? Neither option sounded trendy.

  Alexander sighed and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I can find out his status for you.” He hesitated, absently picking at a knot in the table. “They will not allow him to live,” he added gently, repeating almost verbatim what everyone else had said to me. I was grateful he was trying to spare my feelings, but I was beyond that now. He glanced up at me to see if I was upset, and I stared back unblinking.

  “I’m aware.” He relaxed with the knowledge I wasn’t about to get weepy on him. “I still need to know.”

  He nodded and stood up. “Very well. I will do this for you. But I am afraid this is the only boon I can give you. As much as I want to protect you because of what you did for Simon, you have lost my bracelet, and without it, my pack will not be compliant about sparing you.”

  Yeah, rub it in that I lost th
e one thing that would ensure I could enter pack territory safely to find out about Knight myself.

  “I understand, and I appreciate you helping me even though I don’t have it anymore,” I told him sincerely.

  He pushed his chair in and motioned for us to follow him out the back door. His backyard was open to the forest, and on the edge of it was a group of children playing. I instantly recognized Simon to be among them. He looked happy, kicking an old soccer ball around with his friends. He was taller now, and his hair had an extra year of growth on it. He was starting to look like a shaggy pre-teen.

  “You risked death to save him,” Alexander said thoughtfully, watching the children. “Even if we cannot continue to protect you, we can never repay what you did for us.”

  “And that’s why you’re helping me, isn’t it? To repay me?” I didn’t want to ask a favor of him if it was because of that. He might put himself at unnecessary risk out of duty.

  He shook his head. “No. Information is not the same as sparing a life. One day, I hope we can make it even. And that day may come sooner than we think.”

  Arthur stopped staring at a crack in the window and looked up sharply. “What does that mean?”

  Alexander looked like it was obvious, whatever he knew, and shocked that we were unaware of it. “There are whispers among the packs. Some of the wolves overseas have seen the vampires there acting strangely.” So they had a party line about our business but not about Knight. Maybe he was kept a dirty little secret.

  “Strange how?” I asked Alexander.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know much more than that. But if even Lycans notice something…”

  “Then there’s something wrong,” Arthur finished. “Thank you, Alexander.” He looked at me. “We have to go.”

  I turned back to Alexander who nodded and said, “I’ll send a messenger when we know something about your mate. A human messenger,” he added. Yes. Wouldn’t want a repeat of last time.

  12. Confirmation of fears

  Arthur went straight to Othello’s office after he escorted me home. I was mentally exhausted and went to my rooms to rest. What I really wanted was extra blood. In rare moments, like this one, I was angry at the restrictions on my blood intake. One extra mouthful wouldn’t hurt me. I felt like an addict. I missed being able to drink whenever I wanted. I had total freedom outside of the Order, and now I was back to rules, and standards, and ugh.

  Then I remembered Knight’s face when I almost drained him, that moment forever burned into my perfect memory. His skin had gone pale, and his eyes almost lost their glow. I’d never been so scared in all four hundred plus years of my life. And even being so close to death, he still chose to comfort me when I started crying like a baby.

  Benjamin broke through my memories when he came in through the front door of my suite, carrying a half-eaten loaf of French bread. He took several nibbles of it before he noticed me sitting in my new rocking chair by the birdcage.

  “Are you alright?” he asked me. I was used to him being kind to me, more so than Alfred, but his expression made me realize I had tears on my face. I sniffed, stood up, and wiped my face with my hands.

  “Yes. I’m fine,” I told him. I placed a hand on my belly, feeling a kick from my baby. She didn’t like it when I was sad.

  Benjamin was about to shut his bedroom door when he remembered something. “Oh, I almost forgot. They need you in Othello’s office.” He closed his door and that was that.

  Marie gave me the death glare as I walked past her to Othello’s office. I considered flipping her off, but being petty wasn’t my style, so I ignored her and went straight through the enormous double doors. I expected to see Othello and Arthur in a deep discussion, but instead, there was a group of about ten vampires, all of them the oldest in the Order, Olivier included. The decision makers.

  Othello looked up from his desk and stood when he saw me. “Good. You’re here. Arthur insisted you rest before coming in.” God, this Hunter was babying me. It was the opposite of cute, no matter what his face looked like. We might’ve been building rapport, somehow, but I didn’t like him treating me like I was made of glass.

  “I don’t recall hiring him to be my goddamn nanny,” I said tartly.

  “Not important,” Olivier said before Othello or Arthur could respond. “Clue her in.”

  Othello made his way to in front of his giant desk. “We looked into what the Lycan told you and Arthur.” Fast work. I expected no less from them.

  “And?” I asked, my stomach churning with anticipation.

  “Apparently, the other Orders have been having issues with the turned. They chose to not say anything because each one thought it was only in their ranks, and it prevented us from knowing about it.”

  That was troubling, but it could easily be contained.

  “They were told about the execution here, correct?” I asked him. That would cause unrest. It should also spark fear in them.

  “Yes,” Othello affirmed. “We made sure everyone was informed. And that could’ve started it. Especially if they were vague on the details.”

  “We’re starting an investigation to make sure the turned are contained within each Order,” Olivier told me. “But it will take time until we can safely say it’s over.”

  “The Hunters are going to split up, a few to each Order. We’ll do what we can,” Arthur said, and I tried not to look at him.

  “Your job, Lisbeth,” Othello addressed, coming closer to me. “Olivier and yourself will need to monitor the turned here. They cannot be told what’s happening in the other Orders, nor can any of the other turned. That is paramount to this working correctly.”

  And then I sensed an undertone he wasn’t saying out loud. That this could become serious, if it hadn’t already. He saw me giving him a look of understanding, so I stayed after everyone else had been sent on their way.

  “You’ve guessed it,” he said wearily.

  “Shiiiit,” I swore, drawing the word out. “This isn’t just the turned grumbling, is it.”

  “No. It is not.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t understand it. We give them life. We choose them to become immortal. And this is how they repay us. Ungrateful. That’s what they are.”

  “I’ll do my best here,” I promised. He patted my arm and walked back around his desk to sit down in his chair. I left him there to work on what could become the worst problem in our history.

  Olivier was waiting for me outside Othello’s office. She had on her serious face and was ready for anything.

  “Game plan?” she asked me. I continued walking with her following behind me.

  “Don’t know yet,” I admitted, chewing my lip. “We need to talk to Cameron and Renard.” Keeping silent did not apply to them. Othello would’ve agreed. If I told him, that is.

  “Agreed.”

  I texted Cameron to find Renard and meet us in the smaller drawing-room. They came a few minutes later, just as Olivier was finished pulling the heavy red drapes together to block the last few rays of sunlight before the sun went down.

  Cameron looked from my face to Olivier’s. “Something happened?”

  Olivier jumped straight into it. “The turned are starting to rebel in the other Orders.” While neither man looked surprised, they still looked upset.

  “We don’t know why yet, but we’re trying to find out,” I said.

  Renard’s gaze fell to me, and he looked grave. “We know why.”

  I looked away. “Those executions were necessary.”

  “Non. Not that. Though it did not help. You are the reason, Lisbeth.”

  That threw me. Me? What had I done? Okay, I admit, I liked throwing Randall into the sunlight and watching him burn up into a worthless pile of ash. It was heavenly. But that wasn’t enough of a reason to blame me for this because he totally broke the law and deserved it.

  “Why her?” Olivier asked him. I met his eyes again as he continued.

  “You broke the law, and you were sp
ared. Randall broke the law, and he was executed.”

  “He killed someone,” I said, flabbergasted so hard I almost stuttered. “He killed Arabella. That is not the same thing as what I did.”

  Renard was struggling to stop tears from escaping his eyes at the sound of his niece’s name. “Je sais savoir, I fucking know,” he spat firmly. He let out a breath, never breaking from my gaze. “But they are not me. They do not see it that way. Technically killing a human is not against the law. The law is preserving human life as much as possible. It does not say no killing. The law you broke is vastly more specific. And the turned are outraged.” He lost his control over his emotions and turned away slightly, rubbing his hand over his chin to try to hide the turmoil going on inside him.

  I focused on Cameron. “And you? What do you think?”

  Cameron was clearly affected, but in control of himself. “I think we all agree that Randall’s crime deserved death and yours didn’t. But,” he added. “I also think that the other turned had these thoughts long before Randall, or even you, broke any laws.”

  “She’s a scapegoat,” Olivier deduced. Cameron pointed a finger at her in confirmation. At least the turned here weren’t in contact with the turned from the other Orders. That would be a bigger nightmare.

  Cameron continued. “They’re enraged that her life was considered more precious than his. Not just because she’s older. Because she’s Born, and Randall was turned. They believe they are being treated as inferior.”

  “Damn it. That’s not true,” I said weakly.

  He shrugged. “Just repeating.”

  “Any ideas how we can calm them down?” Olivier asked him.