Chosen by A Rogue Vampyren: Dark Vampire Romance

by Seth Eden

  He saw it with humans too. They beat and they raped. Mark thought you could conduct war without that kind of behavior. He didn’t say so often. He was savvy enough to know how easy it was to be dismissed as “soft” when he considered himself pragmatic. His friend, Loren, called him “gentle.” Mark didn’t dislike the word. Most of the time life felt hard, painful, fast, and too hot. Gentleness meant warm, tender, and perhaps a little slow. Gentle didn’t sound bad at all but Loren said it with a smirk. He’d told no one this and threatened to kick Loren’s ass when he’d called Mark gentle because that’s what humans did when they were insulted.

  He found humans pretty amusing.

  But the Vampyren, he thought, were making themselves monsters. Their approach was harming them as a species, making them emotionless brutes, and if they went too long in that direction they would be unable to find their way back.

  Everyone needed to just settle the fuck down, was Mark’s attitude.

  It was hard to sort out how to do that, though when he had to take out an entire horde of rampaging humans in the most bombed-out part of what the humans called “Chicago.” He liked the name actually. He had found himself covered with blood, trudging back to his unit’s base, saying the word over and over.

  “Chick… ah… go.”

  Human names were cute and strange.

  The word Chicago sounded a fuzzy animal.

  The other men wanted to go to the nearest breeding farm, and he kept his mouth shut. They were supposed to be for breeding but that’s not how anyone used them. They were for letting the soldiers get their rocks off. He didn’t know why anyone pretended otherwise. If anything, when women got pregnant everyone seemed pretty annoyed by it. Though plenty of babies had been born. They were raised on floors below in the creche as if secreted away from their mothers. They were hidden and contained. It put a bad taste in Mark’s mouth, but he was only distantly related to the royal family, and that only held sway with certain people. He wasn’t military leadership either, though he was a unit commander.

  If he had a plan it was to work his way up and change things from the inside. But he wasn’t holding his breath.

  He had taken up the human habit of smoking every once in a while because that too amused him. Humans put little sticks in their mouth and lit them on fire and it killed them, eventually. He found this mildly hilarious and had tried it. When he’d had an inexplicable urge to try it again, he’d understood why humans kept doing it.

  There was something so relaxing about leaning against the low stone wall next to what had once been a decorative garden in front of the big, glassy office building where the breeding farm and the creche were. The other men were heading inside now as they hooted and slapped each other on the back, riled up and ready to take what they wanted, by force if necessary. Mark thought he would just hang out and perhaps see how it was going in a few minutes. If things got out of control, he intended to quell the violence.

  But at the moment, he was thinking of nothing at all as he leaned and smoked. Which was when Loren found him.

  “Markole!” Loren said. It was Mark’s real name back on Vampyren and he had taken to going just by Mark because it was apparently a human name. Not that they all had to assimilate, but Mark thought that if they started with small concessions, maybe they would get somewhere.

  “It’s just Mark,” Mark said, unmoving. He took another drag of his cigarette. Why was that so relaxing? It was some drug, of course. But they’d had nothing so mellow and yet so addictive back on Vampyre. “How are you?”

  “I’m being careful,” Loren said warily as he sidled up to Mark. “Come with me.” He nodded up at the creche.

  Mark stubbed out his cigarette and immediately wished for another. Stupid human addiction sticks. “I don’t use those rape pits,” he said darkly. Loren knew as much. Or he should have. Mark was sure he’d mentioned that before. He was certain Loren wasn’t using them anymore either, if only because he’d fallen in love with Keira, a human girl, in one of them. That happened now and then. Mark considered it a good sign of things to come.

  Mark was tall but not quite as broad and beefy as some of his fellow warriors. He also hunched just slightly, though it was more because he’d found that the asshole alpha type Vampyren who were always looking for a fight avoided him if he kept his head down. Vampyren were constantly challenging each other. Mark wanted no part of it. The invasion of this planet has been quite challenging enough, thanks very much.

  But he had a long dark braid that reached his waist and giant dark eyes that had made women swoon before, and his leaner muscles were just as sculpted as anyone else’s.

  One of his men, upon learning the phrase from the humans, had called him “pretty boy.” Mark had been forced to lay him out for that one. He was “gentle” sure, but he had to maintain some kind of reputation or he’d get killed too.

  “I know you don’t use the breeding farms,” Loren said, seeming a little impatient. It seemed like one of those little behaviors he picked up from his human lover as he bounced on his toes. “I need you to save a girl from this place.” He tugged on Mark’s hand, yanking him toward the creche’s front entrance. “Sooner rather than later. Before one of your men shows her a bad time.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mark mumbled. But out of curiosity, he followed Loren inside. Because Loren was a reasonable person. Mark had a shortlist of people he considered reasonable. He was almost optimistic about the possibility of the list lengthening, though shortly after a slaughter of resistant humans, he couldn’t remember any reason he had to be optimistic.

  “She needs a protector,” Loren said. “Some of the girls, they know what they’re doing. Don’t even seem to have a problem with being taken. This girl is new, young, fresh blood. She needs somebody to claim her.”

  “You’re…” Mark wracked his brain as he followed Loren up the stairs to the fourth floor where the breeding farm was. What was that phrase humans used? It didn’t really apply on Vampyre where you just sort of ended up with people. “You’re setting me up? Like a… matchmaker?”

  “Yes,” Loren said. “She needs your help. There’s a particularly brutal unit commander after her. He’s attacked her once already. Drake?”

  “Ugh. Drake.” Mark made a face. He’d come across Drake before. Drake was perhaps the most brutal of his kind he’d ever met. He kept hair from the woman he raped. “Alright. I’ll help if I can. I could certainly protect her.”

  “Obviously, it would help if you two could actually breed,” Loren said as Mark followed him down the corridor to the open lobby of the creche. Mark swallowed at that.

  In his most private moments, after some battle or when he was alone with his thoughts, he did fantasize about finding some woman to love again. He had mourned his mate, and he missed her. But he’d had love once, unlike so many of his kind. He understood it and he knew how to maintain it. He wanted it again. Although it always seemed like some impossible feat with the way life was during colonization.

  “Do you love your mate?” Mark blurted out. His arms felt too heavy suddenly. This season in Chick-ah-go was horribly hot, they’d told him. They weren’t wrong. It was miserable. He thought his armor might melt into his skin and he wanted it off. He shifted uncomfortably as Loren pushed open the glass doors.

  “Yes, I do,” Loren said, smiling, softly. It was not an expression Mark saw often from his kind.

  He wanted that. Thinking he might find it with this girl who needed protection seemed like a long shot. But he could try it, he supposed.

  “Is she…?” Mark flailed slightly and in the lobby of the breeding farm, he actually blushed, gritting his teeth slightly. The place was full of women wearing barely a stitch of clothing, several of them already in the laps of Vampyren. They didn’t look unhappy. Pheromones no doubt, Mark thought. “Nice?”

  “Is she nice?”

  Loren looked him up and down. “I don’t know anyone else who would ask that. Come on.” Mark was va
guely offended and infuriated by that in equal measure, but he followed Loren to one of the bedrooms that looked like a place where teenage girls would live. Mark knew what the rooms of human girls looked like because he had taken to exploring the abandoned homes of humans. He found them fascinating and distressing; the empty rooms with all their little toys and amusements, the heartache of small lives lived. He had sometimes thought that all Vampyren should take quiet tours of abandoned human homes. He never mentioned that idea to anyone though.

  There was only one girl in the big room that held two rows of beds. She had long straight black hair that was tied into a high ponytail and curled at the ends. She wore a tiny little black nightgown that was meant to attract, her firm thighs bare, almost completely, her full breasts were at risk of spilling out of the top. She wore a full face of makeup, her eyelashes unnaturally long and thick.

  She did not look happy about any of this and sat smoking on her bed. She had clearly been staring out the window at the decimated city beyond and now her head swiveled over to look at him and Loren. She was beautiful because, of course, she was. But Mark could immediately tell that he was not quite seeing her while she was dolled up like this. None of it made sense on her even if it was all inevitably sexy. She would have looked more comfortable in a canvas sack or Vampyren armor. It was obvious the moment he saw her.

  “Crystal,” Loren said. “This is Mark.” Mark watched the girl tense up, her shoulders hunching. He found himself unconsciously slumping a little more, relaxing his posture and dropping his shoulders, tipping his head to the side. He schooled his mouth into a deliberately softer curved line, not quite a smile but not a frown. He clasped his hands in front of him to show that he was not carrying any weapons and that he was not raising a hand to strike her.

  It was elementary stuff, yes. But in his estimation, every little bit helped.

  “Mark,” Crystal said, in a tone that held a bit of mockery. “Mark the Vampyren. Of course.”

  Crystal got to her feet. She was of average human female height which meant she was about a head and half shorter than he was and her body was petite yet curvy, a little muscular in places. She looked like she’d lifted some heavy things in life, judging by the curve of her biceps.

  Crystal sighed and her long, black ponytail swung around to hang between her breasts.

  Mark considered himself an outlier among his kind; too kind and too soft perhaps, yes. But he found himself wanting to show this girl how good it could be if nothing else. It was hard not to imagine filling her up with his cock and his seed when her thighs and her breasts were on display like that.

  But he only stood, smiling carefully, his head tipped to the side in a gesture of near submission.

  “Well, my name is different in Vampyren,” Mark said in a soft voice. “But I thought it would be useful if it sounded a little more human.”

  “Hmm.” He watched the bob of her throat when she swallowed and even that aroused him. He wanted to lick her here. Crystal crossed her arms, a defensive posture.

  “Okay,” Loren said, sighing. “I have to go talk to Keira. You two can...get to know each other.” Loren shut the door after him and Crystal kept her eyes trained on him as if she expected him to attack at any moment. He sat on the bed across from hers, a few feet away. “How long have you been in here?”

  She scoffed and shook her head. “A day?” She looked so sad about it all. It didn’t seem fair to him. Why had they not offered some kind of compensation to human women for helping them breed? It would at least have been an attempt at a peace offering and from a practical point of view, it would have increased the chances of successful breeding. But then it was only partly about procreation. “I was a trader. I was good at it. I have a place in town and roommates, friends. They have no idea I’m here. I’m not allowed to contact them.”

  “Oh, I could get you a message to them,” Mark said easily. “For a start. I don’t...agree with this system. You should know that. I only agreed to be your protector, your patron, because Loren told you were in danger and it would be helpful.”

  She looked over his face, squinting, perhaps searching out a lie. “What makes you such a good guy then, huh?”

  “I… don’t see the need to be a bad one?” He shrugged, another distinctly human gesture. Crystal smiled at that.

  “Interesting,” she murmured.

  They fell into an awkward silence and Mark shifted uncomfortably, sweating bullets beneath his armor. He was better in hot weather as all Vampyren were but Chicago was also humid and that was murder. “Do you mind if I take this armor off?”

  “Do I…?” Crystal threw her head back and burst into laughter. He watched, baffled, as her face twisted up into an expression of helpless mirth before she hunched over her knees, slapping them as if she absolutely could not help herself. “N-no! No, go ahead.” She wiped her teary eyes, still chuckling. “You are… unusual alright. I don’t hate it. Tell you that much.”

  “You can tell me more than that,” Mark muttered, not having heard the phrase before, and he began to unlace and remove his armor, underneath which he wore soft cloth britches, a sleeveless shirt, and leather boots with laces. It was still too much clothing. Sometimes he envied humans with their thinner clothes that were better in the heat. He’d seen Vampyren wearing human clothes before but it was nothing he could get away with while serving in the military. His braid stuck to his neck and he tossed it aside, grimacing. Crystal was watching all this, seemingly fascinated.

  “Are you wearing eyeliner?” She said.

  “What?”

  “Black stuff on your…?” She pointed to her own eyelids.

  “Oh. Helps with the heat of the sun.” He said.

  “It’s pretty hot,” she said. “Attractive, I mean. I’m just saying.” She looked him up and down and he felt their positions had flipped, especially considering they were in a breeding farm. He felt more naked than the removal of armor allowed for. She was looking at him, into him, as she bit her lip. He was being appraised and finally, the corner of her mouth turned up and she said, “I think I may have really lucked out. Wait, are you using pheromones on me?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I don’t do that. Unless… I would if you asked me too. You human women are much too affected by it. It doesn’t seem right. It makes you want us when you don’t want to want us.”

  “Jesus, you’re more of a gentleman than… than…” Crystal made a stuttering little noise that Mark thought it was kind of cute. “Than most of the human men I’ve met in my life. Like the vast majority, I think.”

  “We weren’t always like this on our world,” Mark said grimly.

  “Humans have done more monstrous things than what you’ve done here,” Crystal said wryly. “Or at least as monstrous…” She seemed to think about it a moment and then said, “No. More monstrous. That’s why I traded with Vampyren, you know? Figured it wasn’t about...you know, the race? Besides... I’m a mercenary. And a customer is a customer.”

  “A mercenary,” Mark said. “You don’t look like one.”

  “Well…” She didn’t finish her sentence and looked at him with some new expression. All at once the temperature in the room started to change. “You know, they’ll expect us to have…”

  “There’s no need for that,” Mark said with a wave of his hand. “I wouldn’t want to…”

  “What about the blood thing?” Crystal said, rubbing her eyes. “You know, I mean the thing where you bite me and then you can smell me if I’m in danger…”

  “Yes…” His eyes roved over her. “Would that make you feel safer?”

  She gave him a long look and said, “I think if it were you it would.”

  Mark took a deep breath and steeled himself. He was already aroused by Crystal. But she felt safe with him and he wasn’t about to take advantage of her as anyone else would. It was tempting to use the pheromones after all. He couldn’t help but feel his cock swell at the thought of her helplessly turned on for him, wanti
ng him so badly she begged and threw herself at him until he filled her completely. But he resisted the urge. He would only use that if she asked him to. That was his promise.

  He stood up and went to her bed, sitting down beside her, the scent of her intoxicating, and his thighs pressed against hers, making him want to take one of her legs in each hand and feel that cool, soft skin under his palms. She bared her neck for him, licking her lips.

  “Will it hurt?” She whispered.

  He turned on the bed and wrapped an arm around her. He felt her melt against him and it stirred his blood. It threatened to make him go feral like he always promised himself he wouldn’t. “Only for a moment,” he whispered, and he slowly sank his fangs into the soft flesh of her neck. He felt her tense just for a moment as he tasted her warm blood and he pulled out to lick at the spot with tender swipes of his tongue, laving the spot, before he bit in again and sucked just enough to bind them. Now he had marked her. He wanted more. Her blood was sweet and warm and buttery in his mouth. But he stopped. Still, he held her, dizzy at the scent of her hair and her neck and her blood as she clung to him.

  “You’re lying,” she whispered, her hands sliding down his biceps, and he flexed them a little for her benefit. “You’re using something… I’m…”

  “I’m not,” he said sternly, frowning, wanting her to believe he would not do that. He needed trust.

  “But I want you so badly,” she said in his ear and his arms twined around her of their own volition. “I want you to make me feel good. Can you?”

  “Yes,” he breathed.

  “Do it.”

  He lay her down on her bed that was too small, though he supposed it would do for their purposes. He hadn’t planned on this but as long as she was so insistent… He straddled the small bed, observing her nearly naked body, she raised her arms overhead and lifting up the hem of her nighty and revealing the little triangle of her panties. He removed her shoes, a pair of absurd high heels he saw human women wear sometimes, and slid his hands up the backs of her calves, pausing at her knees and leaning over to the kiss them, marveling at her soft skin. But he could hear her short breaths and smell her arousal and it was pushing him to want more and more…