Fatal Harmony (The Vein Chronicles Book 1)

by Anne Malcom

  There was a gasp at the other end of the phone. “Fuck, Isla. A slayer? Hold on. I’ll get your location and be there to help.” The rapid typing on a keyboard filled the phone.

  I laughed. “Dude, I got it. I can handle one slayer. I’d have to let you take me to this convention if I couldn’t and sacrifice myself to the Twiharders, or whatever they’re called.” My eyes met those iceberg blue ones that were flickering with quicksilver. “Now how about you go shopping for a new date to your convention and your Captain Kirk outfit? Got to go.”

  I hung up on him.

  I slipped the phone back into my bag and shrugged at the man in front of me. “Sorry about that. He would have just kept calling if I hadn’t answered, and it would totally ruin the vibe you’ve got going here.” I waved my hand down his body. “He’s a pain, but I just don’t have the heart to kill him. What can you do?” I stood a little taller. “Now, where were we? Right, you were going to try and get all stabby. Then I’d have to kick your ass, and it’d be embarrassing for you to limp back to the slayer clubhouse. So how about we save my manicure and your pride and just go our separate ways?”

  He blinked away the amusement and if I wasn’t mistaken, shock shuttered his gaze once more, his muscles pulsing in his neck. “Not fuckin’ likely,” he growled. “It’s against my nature to leave a vamp breathing.”

  “Well, I’m not breathing, so there we go. You’re not going against your nature,” I informed him chirpily. I stepped forward with deliberate slowness, showing my intention to slip around him, just to see what he’d do.

  Surprise, surprise, he moved his body so he could block my way and bring himself closer to me.

  It pissed me off that I enjoyed the proximity, the way his heartbeat vibrated through my own body with its force, so much stronger than regular humans.

  Obviously I couldn’t give my preference to that away. In fact, I should kill him on principle and to stop my body from working against me.

  I straightened my shoulders. “It’s always the hard way with you burly types.”

  I could taste him, the scent bitter and sweet at the same time. Interestingly, his heartbeat was even, a steady thump that vibrated the air. Even the most experienced of slayers had a slight increase in beats per minute during confrontations with vampires. Experienced slayers more so; they knew enough about vampires to fear them.

  Either this one wasn’t threatened by me, and therefore very stupid, or else he was… something else. Something that was the reason for his strange alluring scent that almost wasn’t human.

  But it had to be. What else was there? Every instinct in my body told me this was a slayer, my cells almost rejecting his presence at the same time as welcoming it. Yeah, he was a slayer. And by that very fact, it ruled him out from being anything but human.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I stated honestly.

  His brows rose. “You think I look fuckin’ stupid?”

  I grinned. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  His lips thinned. “You’re a bloodsucker. Of course you don’t want to hurt me. You want to drain me dry.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, buddy. I’m not suicidal like you.” Another pesky part of the slayer’s genetic makeup: their blood was toxic, to vampires at least. Only uneducated or stupid vampires actually died from sucking their blood, since it wasn’t exactly a secret. But they were inventive in the ways they used it.

  I’d heard whispers that they were developing bullets that were injected with their own blood and copper-coated. If that was true, they might stand a semblance of a chance against our race.

  His eyes stayed locked with mine, his body taut and ready for attack. Instead of doing so, he just stood there, a hair’s breadth away, imprinting his scent on me, those piercing blue eyes unnerving in their intensity.

  The stillness between two naturally opposing creatures such as ourselves should have been uncomfortable. It shouldn’t have been like this. Like the swirl of quicksilver in his eyes was urging him against killing me. Like that swirl flickered with something that crept up my spine and urged me to lean forward, not to bite but to….

  “Hey!” The loud shout tore the moment and both of our heads snapped to the direction of the voice. It was coming from the mouth of the alley where a man was stopped, staring at the two of us.

  I jerked back, the interruption giving me exactly what I needed. Clarity. And distance from the slayer that spelled disaster.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Get away from her!” the man yelled.

  Then he started to briskly jog in our direction when the slayer didn’t move.

  I realized what this looked like: a hulking man with a beard, leather jacket and a knife backing up a well-dressed woman in an alleyway. Needless to say, this woman was far from helpless, but to the mortal’s eye, I was a delicate flower.

  “You should run,” I whispered to the slayer, who bristled.

  “Like fuck I’m going anywhere,” he hissed, the man almost on us. “I’m not leaving you alone with a human.”

  I put my hand to my chest and watched as his eyes flickered to my ample assets. I grinned inwardly. “I would never drain a man who’s riding in to save the day. That’s just bad taste.”

  His eyes darkened but he didn’t have the chance to say anything before the man roughly pushed the slayer out of my orbit. I was both glad and pissed about that. Slayers in the immediate vicinity weren’t usually ideal, but this one… well, I was getting used to it. Liking it.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” my knight in plaid yelled at my villain in leather. The man whipped his ponytailed head to me. “You okay, miss? Do I need to call the police?”

  I straightened, doing my best not to grin at the muscled hipster who would so not win in a fight with the brawny and dangerous man he was currently shielding me from.

  “I’m okay,” I said, trying my best to sound all breathless and vulnerable. “Thank goodness you were here. I hate to think what would have happened had you not happened upon us.” My eyes flickered to an ice-blue gaze. “Blood could have been spilled. And blood makes me queasy.” I glanced at my watch. “I’ve got a plane to catch so I can’t stay to make a statement to the authorities, whom I urge you to call. Detective Lewis at Precinct 15 is an old friend. He’ll make sure to put this scumbag where he belongs.” I hitched my bag up on my shoulder and leaned to give the hipster a chaste kiss on the cheek. A cheek which reddened, his heartbeat speeding up.

  Totally still got it.

  “Thanks so much for saving me. If I didn’t have to fly to Tokyo, I’d thank you properly,” I purred with a wink.

  I noticed another heartbeat quicken, one that drowned out hipster’s. Swallowed it, in fact. It seemed to bounce off my skull in a way that was not at all normal. My gaze narrowed but didn’t leave the hipster’s.

  I turned on my heel and hurried down the alley, not listening to the slight ruffling of feet and cursing from both male voices. No, the heartbeat drowned it all out. Even as I walked back onto the street.

  That unnerved me.

  Something was different about that slayer.

  And not just the fact that he got me tingly in the worst ways.

  I was accosted by two burly vampires the second my elevator doors opened. I would have most likely sensed their presence had I not been daydreaming about a certain slayer and imagining what I thought his denim-clad ass would look like.

  Especially since I had gotten a text from Lewis not one hour before.

  Lewis: Is there a reason why I just had a call to an alley where a woman matching your description specifically asked for me after a man interrupted an assault on the aforementioned woman?

  This guy was a hoot. Who used the word ‘aforementioned’ in a text message? I was almost five hundred years old and didn’t use it.

  Me: Please tell me you gave him a full cavity search. And then describe the outside of the aforementioned cavity.

  Lewis: Such a man actua
lly exists? The good citizen was found unconscious once I got there, and neither you nor the man was anywhere to be found. Did you… you know?

  Hmm, the not-so-little slayer harmed a human to escape the authorities. Not very slayerlike. I thought they were meant to protect those masses, not assault them. Disturbingly, I liked him even more now. I grinned down at the message.

  Me: What does ‘you know’ mean? Did I… get his number? Alas, no. He was too busy waving a scary knife to exchange digits.

  Lewis: Not funny. Is he battling a case of anemia?

  Me: Nice euphemism, Lewy. He’s got all his platelets, so don’t worry your pretty graying head about it. Have attached my dealer’s number for that cocaine we discussed.

  Obviously I didn’t get a reply after that.

  “Stop,” one of the burly vampires in my hallway demanded, snatching my bag.

  “Hey!” I protested. “Were you born in a fucking crypt? You don’t snatch.”

  The other one got in my face when I reached for my bag. I gave him a once-over. “Your friend wants a Birkin, he better just get on the waiting list like everyone else. I’m not averse to ending you both if you try to take it from me.”

  “She’s clear,” the deep voice of the handbag snatcher declared.

  His stoic friend stepped back.

  I snatched the handbag, glaring at both men, who stepped to either side of the elevator, staring straight ahead like that hadn’t just happened.

  My gaze flickered forward, deciding not to even bother with the confrontation. Whatever ‘that’ was, it was something that I’d deal with later. Or never. It wasn’t like I couldn’t take care of myself, and two vampires who looked like they snacked on steroid-laden blood were not something for me to worry about. So I stepped forward, my view unobstructed by said roid freaks so I could see a much smaller vampire barring my way.

  “You don’t live here,” I informed the vampire standing at the door of my apartment.

  It had been a fricking long day and the last thing I wanted was a visitor with fangs. Or a visitor full stop. I wanted a bucket of wine, a rare steak and a season of Prison Break.

  The slayer had fucked up my hunt and the priest was gone by the time I got to the church. Which meant that I had to call Scott to get him to dig up info. Which also meant that now Scott thought that he was involved in this hunt, which had led to him making a ‘date’ for us to stalk and murder said priest the following night.

  And the handbag I’d been eying at Bergdorf’s was out of stock.

  I was cranky, to say the least.

  Plus, I couldn’t erase two ice-blue eyes from my head. Nor those arms. Or shoulders. Or thighs. I hadn’t even gotten to see the butt.

  I totally needed to get laid.

  Not by this guy, though. The vamp at my door was bald, tall and skinny, wearing a black suit and tie. He looked like a funeral director or an aged Beatle. He’d turned old too, maybe early forties. His face was screwed up in what looked like a permanent grimace of distaste. I’d be pissed too if I had to spend eternity with crow’s feet.

  “The king requests an audience,” he said in answer.

  I stopped in front of him, quirking my brow. “Tell him to talk to my assistant. I’ll try to pencil his majesty in for an ‘audience.’ Though, I’m sure his schedule is full with killing babies and severing hands, so how about I send him a Snapchat video and we’ll call it a day?”

  Funeral vamp obviously didn’t get my humor because his mouth didn’t even quirk. His face barely moved. Vampires were notoriously unemotional and cold, but this guy was statuesque. The only thing apparent was his clear distaste of me, though it wasn’t communicated through facial expressions; it was like he excreted the emotion into the air.

  Totally creepy.

  But also kind of cool.

  I needed to figure out how to do that.

  “His majesty does not make appointments,” he stated, looking down at me. “He is inside the door. I am here merely to notify you of his presence.”

  I raised my brows. “He’s in there? My apartment? The king requested an appointment with me is what you said. But what you meant is that he broke into my apartment and has thrust said appointment on me,” I snapped. I wasn’t like Mr. Creepy here; I couldn’t seep emotions, so I needed a glare and a snippy tone to communicate how pissed off I currently was.

  He didn’t answer me.

  I hitched my bag on my shoulder. “Right,” I huffed, pointing my heeled toe towards my door.

  Before I could shove it open angrily, the vampire stepped forward, opening it for me.

  He faced the interior of my apartment. “Ms. Rominskitoff for you, Your Majesty.”

  I pushed past him. “Yes, by all means, announce my presence in my apartment to the vampire who broke in,” I snapped, glaring at the emotionless face. “Who else would it be? Britney Spears here for an impromptu concert?”

  “That will be all, Sven,” a deep voice rumbled through my apartment.

  The vampire did a little half bow, flicking his disapproving gaze to me for a split second before he closed my door.

  I glared at the attractive man who just happened to be the king of all vampires lounging on my white suede sofa in my all-white living room. My sanctuary with a ten-million-dollar view from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Central Park was framed by the glittering towers that still amazed me with their magnificence. Mankind had come very far in the blink of an eye. Though vampires had a hand in the evolution of technologies and the like, it was still hard to believe such a civilization could create and adapt to a totally different way of life in a mere century. Vampire society was a lot less malleable; after all, we still had a monarch who boasted absolute rule over all immortals.

  The man in question had both arms stretched out to the back of my sofa, his inky black suit juxtaposing the pure white and his patent leather dress shoes resting on my coffee table. His emerald eyes were focused on me.

  “Sven?” I said, nodding to the door that just closed. “Are you sure it’s not Jeeves?” I stomped into my living room, throwing my Birkin onto the ground. That’s how pissed I was, treating such a beautiful item with violence it didn’t deserve. “You think it’s appropriate to break into my house, put your feet all over my pure white, ten-thousand-dollar coffee table and station a vampire butler outside my door, giving me permission to enter my own apartment?” I asked mildly, my tone sharp enough to shave the small amount of stubble kissing his strong jaw.

  Side note—yes, vampires got stubble.

  I held up my hand as he opened his mouth. “What if I’d brought someone home with me? Then not only would you be ruining an already shitty day, but you’d be cramping my style when I really needed to get laid.”

  His eyes, once expressionless, darkened just a fraction, enough to send a small shiver down my spine.

  He moved his shoes off the coffee table with a pointed stare but remained sitting. “You think that is an appropriate way to greet your king?” he asked mildly.

  “No, I think that’s the appropriate way to greet the vampire who broke into my apartment. The polite way, in fact. The less polite way would have Jeeves flying out of that”—I nodded to the far wall—“window and your pretty face getting another scar. So, Your Highness, consider yourself greeted.” I did a little curtsey, scowl on my face.

  He was off the sofa and in my space in a split second. To human eyes the movement would have been little more than a blur, but I watched his entire journey, observed how lithe his movements were, the way his muscles moved underneath his custom-tailored suit, open at the throat, exposing thick cords and smooth, tanned skin.

  I could have moved back, but I’d been too busy perving to retreat.

  Also, I didn’t retreat. Ever.

  So I did my best to lift my eyes from the wide and impressive chest to meet his emerald orbs, full of heat and authority. Considering I was centuries old and could school my expression, you’d think I wouldn’t be a slave to my baser instincts. B
ut you’d think wrong.

  “I’m your king,” he rasped, his voice strong and rough. “Therefore, that threat of violence to me and my person is considered a punishable offense. With death.” His breath was hot on my face, somehow making a death threat seem seductive. “But since I’m intrigued by you, I could think of some alternative punishments that would be the most exquisite form of torture. You’d be begging me to keep going and yearn for chains instead of freedom.”

  His words hypnotized me for a hot minute, I’m ashamed to say. Yes, I was vehemently against the monarchy of my race that promoted elitism, glorified and romanticized murder and genocide and were just all-around assholes. But he was just so freaking hot.

  I stepped back, keeping my leveled gaze on his. “I’m rather attached to my freedom, and my head—I just got it colored,” I deadpanned. I crossed my arms, mostly to hide the physical evidence of his little monologue, hoping it came across as a pissed-off gesture. The way his eyes flickered to my chest area and the side of his mouth ticked up made me think he sensed the former.

  “You going to kill me, punish me, or tell me why you’re here?” I probed. I thought I’d gotten away cleanly after the battle at the Majestic, but obviously, I was wrong. “Because I’m sure the king of all vampires has better things to do than threaten mere peasants. And I know this peasant has better things to do.” I needed to call Dante to relieve some of the energy this guy had just pent up.

  He watched me for a second longer before his face transformed to full-on king mode. He crossed his arms and turned his back to me, wandering over to my stainless steel, vintage bar trolley that held crystal decanters of liquid.