Blood Deception: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Royal Covens Book 2)

by Kaylin Peyerk

  Watching the sun rise with Uriel while exchanging our deepest secrets, our biggest regrets.

  Hearing Gabriel’s pain of losing one of the many loves of his life and echoing it with my own.

  Holding Michael close as he murmurs sweet nothings in my ear, stroking both my hair and my heart.

  “I’ll forget them!” I wail with surprising strength, jerking in her arms.

  Her hold tightens, and a strained bloody smile comes to her lips. “I know, little lamb. I know, but you will learn to love them still, perhaps even more deeply without the loss of your former lover hanging in the back of your mind.”

  Her words strike a chord within me, and the sobbing takes over completely, my eyesight nearly gone. The woman looks over her shoulder as if she heard a noise, but the world is so faded now that I don’t register it when she’s blown away from me. My limp body drops to the ground, and suddenly I’m above it, floating. The pain is gone, and my body's eyes are closed. Somehow, while my body is dead, my soul is still here, clinging to life. I watch as the four men I’ve come to love to drop to their knees around me, looks of pain and utter despair on their faces.

  “No!” Michael wails, pulling my cooling body into his lap and rocking me back and forth.

  My heart wrenches when I see tears falling down his face. Gabriel kneels next to him, eyes riveted to my still, bloodied, face with an unreadable almost shocked expression on his face. As if he couldn’t believe this has happened, can’t accept it. Uriel and Raphael are charging toward the woman who’s staggering to her feet at the other end of the clearing. And as soon as she flips her hair up and out of the way, both of them stop in their tracks, identical looks of horror on their faces.

  “Alina?” Raph murmurs, nearly choking on the name.

  The name echoes in my mind as I try to commit it to a memory I know I won’t possess when I come back to life as a vampire, but I do it anyway. Michael turns as well when he hears the name, utter rage on his face as he hands my still body to Gabriel. He takes me in his arms, that same dead expression on his face as he stares and stares at me. It’s strange to watch from above, to feel detached from it. It’s like I’m in a strange dream, and when I blink myself awake, everything will go back to normal. None of this feels real, and maybe it’s not. Maybe I had too much to drink at the party and I’ll wake up in a few hours with nothing but a hangover and tales of a horrible nightmare.

  “You’re supposed to be dead,” Uriel says, deadpan.

  “Well, I’m not. I never have been,” she replies, gesturing to my limp form. “And your welcome, for that.”

  All of my lords growl, stepping forward with murderous looks on their faces. “Thank you?” Michael roars. “Why would we fucking thank you for killing our bride? The love of our life?”

  Alina laughs, and it’s that same manic sound from earlier, and I notice Gabriel flinch as if it pains him to hear it. “You stupid fool. Vampires cannot love humans, all you felt was the curse, and the bond it brings. We are meant to truly bond with our own kind, as your mother and father did.”

  “A soul bonding,” Gabriel murmurs, looking stricken.

  Alina nods in his direction, clicking her tongue. “Admit it, you’ve never soul bonded with all those human women. It was a simple blood bond, and it most certainly was never love.”

  A rumbling growl builds in the back of Raph’s throat as his eyes turn a deep shade of red. “You know nothing about our love or bonds with the women. I will never deface them by saying it was only a cheap blood bond.”

  “Fine, I do not care either way if you're honest with yourself or not. But once she rises again, the curse will be broken,” Alina replies, rolling her eyes.

  The clearing goes utterly silent then, and my soul begins to rise upward. Fear grips me as I fight and struggle to stay, to get one last long look at the men I’ve come to care about so deeply, but it’s no use. My limbs become translucent in nature until beginning to disappear altogether starting with my fingers and toes. My ghostly body fades away inch by inch until all that’s left is my head, and I swivel to watch the lords lunge at the woman, a fight breaking out.

  That’s the last thing I see before fading completely into the dark.

  Chapter Eight

  For a while I bleed in and out of consciousness, feeling my body sway in someone’s arms. I can’t tell who it is, nor do I know who I am. My mind feels empty, void of life or memory. It’s a strange feeling to have, especially when I feel as if I was someone before now. As if my memories are just beyond where I can reach, fading away bit by bit as I struggle to open my eyes. It fills my chest with longing, but at the same time a part of me knows for certain that there will be no way to snatch them back.

  My stomach rumbles fiercely, snapping out of my morose thoughts. I’ve never known a hunger such as this, so raw and gnawing that it feels like my stomach is turning over itself. It makes a desperate feeling stir in my chest, and I try like hell to rise from the utter darkness my soul sits in, but the veil just won’t lift. Either my body isn’t ready to wake, or something else is holding me back here. I don’t know which. My limp body jolts when the person holding me jumps gracefully over something.

  Whoever is carrying me has been walking for quite some time. Every time I come up from the dark, trying to wake completely, I’m still swaying in their arms with each step. The smells around me are amplified, assaulting my senses until I’m nauseous. It’s woodsy and delicate. A mixture of pine, flowers, and animal musk. But another, more distinct scent is mixed in. Perfume of some kind that smells of. . . citrus and sandalwood. Both feminine and masculine at the same time. But the arms around me are small and wiry, clutching me with a strong grip. It must be a female, and someone in good shape.

  “Wake, little lamb,” the woman murmurs, then. “Wake and drink.”

  I can feel my brows pulling together as confusion riddles my brain. Drink? I’m not thirsty, I’m hungry. So, so hungry. A hunger that might never be sated, a hunger that’s nearly driving me mad as I sit here in the dark. I’d like to scream at the woman about this prison of darkness, but all I do is fall further into the cavern, my mind going blank as unconsciousness overtakes me.

  ***

  I jerk upright, gasping for air, my lungs working overtime as panic and hunger war within my chest. A strange, otherworldly woman is there, then, putting a glass to my lips. I almost knock it away with a growl that sounds less than human until the liquid hits my tongue. A flavor I’ve never experienced bursts across my tastebuds, and suddenly I’m clutching her wrist and tipping the glass all the way back to gulp it down. She replaces it with another, and I drink it just as greedily, my stomach filling with the spicey, rich drink.

  “Slow, little lamb, or I will not give you a third,” the woman murmurs.

  Another growl rumbles my chest, but I do as I’m told, slowing my racing thoughts and heart. As I do, the grip on her wrist loosens before sliding away completely. And when she hands me another tall glass of the dark red liquid, I’m able to take slow civilized sips, actually recognizing the flavors as I do. It’s sweet at first, but then spicey in the back of my throat like a mango hot sauce. I hum when I finish off the third glass, that insatiable hunger quelled afterward. Strength returns to my limbs slowly after drinking it, and warmth floods my veins like sweet fire, almost as if I had no blood to circulate before drinking whatever it is the woman gave me. It didn’t smell like blood, no, it smelt like summertime and citrus, just like her perfume.

  “Where am I?” I croak, finally looking around the immaculate room.

  I’m sitting against the headboard of an ornate four poster bed. The furniture around me is beautifully made of dark wood and black steel. Deep red and gold pillows accent the dark chairs and couches around the room and in front of the fireplace, along with the embroidered comforter beneath me. This woman must have a lot of money to afford something as nice as this.

  “You are in my home,” she replies evasively, and I eye her as I stand to test
my balance.

  My legs are a bit unsteady as if I haven’t used them in a while, but I stumble toward the raging fire anyhow, my cold body craving the heat. She follows closely, arms out to steady me in case I need it, but not quite touching my skin. I’m grateful for it, as everything in this room is overwhelming my senses already without adding the sense of touch into the mix. The crackling of the fire sounds like gunshots, and the smell of her perfume, red drink, and smoke invades my nose like a slap to the face. The stronger I feel after drinking whatever powerhouse of an energy drink she gave me, the stranger I begin to feel.

  “What did you give me? Drugs?” I ask, taking a seat on the low table nearest to the fire before reaching my hands out toward it.

  The woman chuckles and the crazed sound to it sends a feeling of Deja vu through my chest that I can’t quite understand. I rub my palm across my sternum, attempting to get rid of the awful sense of fear that was left in her laughter's wake. Did I know this woman before I lost my memory? And if I did, why does her laugh send a spike of fear through my chest? She watches me closely for a moment before taking a seat to my left, elegantly crossing one leg over the other, her black dress flowing around her like a beacon.

  “No, I did not give you drugs,” she begins, eyes turning cold and serious. “I gave you blood.”

  My body goes rigid and I rear back as if I’ve been slapped. Blood? No, that couldn’t have been blood. I didn’t smell the familiar coppery tang of it or taste it. Whatever that was, it tasted like roses and sunshine and life. Not blood, not death. I narrow my eyes at the strange woman, trying to sense any type of giveaway that it’s a lie, but to my dismay, I see none. My fingers shake as I lower my hands from the fire to grip the edge of the table, a deep sweat breaking out across my lower back.

  “No,” I moan, closing my eyes. “No, no, no!”

  I hear the woman stand, but don’t bother to open my eyes and look at her as she crouches before me. “Oh yes, Blair. You are a vampire.”

  Her words hit me like a shot to the heart, and just like all my other familiar memories slipping away, I get the vague notion that this turn of events is horrible, unthinkable. I drop my head and take a few deep breaths, attempting to calm myself but having little luck doing so. My thoughts are racing and jumbled up. On top of the panic that I’m a newly turned vampire, I don’t even know my own name. The woman said Blair, and it struck a chord in me, those fading memories confirming it. My eyes flutter open and I nearly jump when her face is close enough to touch with my nose if I lean forward. It really brings out her beauty, being up this close and personal. There’s not one imperfection on her face, and her large, round, eyes are a perfect deep chocolate brown. They match her long sheet of raven hair flowing down her back like water. Her beauty is nearly blinding, almost painful.

  “Who are you?” I ask, voice shaking just as much as my body.

  “You’re keeper, for now. My name is Alina.”

  I watch her for a moment, testing the word on my lips. “Alina.”

  “Yes.”

  All of her attention is on me, and it’s so unnerving that I look down at my hands rather than back at her. Alina is a woman of power, of strength, I can feel it. It nearly sizzles in the room around us, that raw power. It makes me wonder. . . is there something more to her that I’m not seeing? Our eyes lock again, and hers seem to flash with an emotion I can’t quite catch. So instead of analyzing her, I lean back, trying to get some distance between us.

  “You know, you’re very beautiful as a vampire,” Alina says, dragging one finger down my thigh.

  I try not to flinch at the touch, still feeling vulnerable and confused after the change. “Uh, thanks. What did I look like before?”

  “Still beautiful, but curvy, almost plump.”

  Her words irk a deep part of me, as if whoever I was in my human life hated it when my weight was talked about. It’s no surprise, I assume that all women hate it when someone refers to their weight. The room turns sour as if my mood has affected the atmosphere outside my body as well as inside. Alina opts to sit next to me on the small table rather than crouch in front, and I nearly heave a sigh of relief. At least I can look up into the fire now to give my eyes somewhere to go.

  “Thanks,” is all I say after the earlier uncomfortably long pause.

  “Your welcome. Do you feel uncomfortable around me, Blair?”

  “Yes,” I admit, still not looking at her. “But it’s mostly because I’m very confused right now. I didn’t know my own name until you said it, I don’t know where I am, where I came from, who my family is, nothing.”

  Alina doesn’t respond for a moment, and I chance a glance in her direction. She’s staring into the fire as well, her expression full of a longing so strong that my own chest nearly aches with it. Does she remember her family? Her memories? If so, I need her to tell me how to bring them back, how to claw them back if I have to. That need rises within me like a desperate wave, and my hand darts out to take hers in a tight grip. She looks up at me, surprise coating her features as her eyes dart from our clasped hands and back up to my desperate face.

  “Do you remember your past life?” I ask, leaning in.

  She shakes her head. “No, but I found out about it by asking around after the change. I found out enough information to find my family and fiancé again, but I never had the courage to go back.”

  My brows pull together. “Why not? Isn’t that the goal? To find our old memories and loved ones?”

  Again, Alina lapses into silence, and instead of pushing her for more answers, I let her take her time before answering. If she had a former fiancé and a loving family, I can’t imagine what it would be like to discover them again, to finally find them, only to feel nothing for them when you look upon their faces. No residual love or attraction, nothing. Was she hoping that her memories would resurface? That she could slip back into her old skin as easily as if she never left?

  “For the first four months of my vampire life it was my mission to find out who did this to me, and where my old family was. It consumed me completely, and soon all I thought about was blood and the urge to uncover the truth. But once I did. . . let’s just say that I didn’t like what I had found,” she pauses, exhaling. “I was turned in a town over fifty miles from where my family lived, so no one there knew me. But I asked and asked anyway, walking from town to town on bare feet and in my tattered still bloodied clothing.”

  Horror fills my chest as I listen intently to her story. Walking fifty miles with nothing on you but bloody clothing and scattered memories? Plus, the overwhelming hunger she must have felt, only to be unsatisfied with food. I don’t know what I would have done without her when I woke up, I barely knew what was going on, let alone that I had turned into a vampire. Sympathy fills my chest as I watch her closely, still gripping her hand in both of mine.

  “What happened when you got to your family's town?” I murmur, pitching my voice low so as not to startle her out of the memory that’s clearly shining through her eyes.

  She shrugs. “The first person I asked knew my name, knew who I was. They told me that my name is Alina and that they could take me to my family. That I had been missing for over six months,” she stops, biting her lip. “I refused their help, asking for directions instead. The woman gave it to me, albeit a little bit reluctantly. So I made my way to the house, nearly bursting with excitement. But as I walked through the town and people pointed and stared and murmured, waving cautiously to me, I could tell that they knew what I was now. A blood sucking monster.”

  Her final words come out full of bitter resentment, and I suck in a breath, nearly hissing at how deep her own words hit my own chest. Despite not having any in depth memories of my past, I still have general knowledge, and it’s telling me that humans don’t get along well with vampires. We prefer to stay separate, only coming into contact with them if we have to. Well, them, not we anymore. I close my eyes after making the correction, batting away the sadness that tries to rise
up inside me. This is my new reality, who I am now. It wouldn’t help anything to let it rule me.

  “I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I say.

  She shakes herself, blinking away the emotion welling up in her eyes. “No, it’s fine. I want you to trust me. Telling you my own story might bridge the gap a little bit, right?” I nod, so she goes on. “My instinct to protect myself rose up, lingering on the edge of my sanity, waiting for them to make a move all while the lingering human part of me begged them not to. I was strong, for a vampire. Some of the others I met along my journey told me so, but they also told me that being strong would make it that much harder to gain control of myself and my new abilities. But thankfully, they left me alone and I got to my family’s house without any issue.”

  She stops for a moment to stand up and move over to the window, facing away from me. Her tall, lithe, body full of obvious tension. What happened must have been bad if she’s this torn up about it so many years later. I clench my fists in my lap as I wait for her to continue, trying to curb my burning curiosity. It seems to have the opposite effect, permeating the air and filling the entire room with my emotions. I can almost smell it, as if it resembles citrus. My despair from earlier smelt of a rainy day or storm clouds rolling in. I wonder if this is my new power as a vampire, and if it is, what good will it do me? Can Alina feel it too? I peer up at her but see no indication that she can feel my emotions, not that I’d even know what it’d look like if she could. She shifts from foot to foot, the first time I’ve seen her do something like that. From the moment I awoke her body has been still and controlled, not a movement out of place. This must be really hard for her to talk about.

  “Alina. . .” I begin, but she cuts me off.

  “He had found another,” she nearly shouts, startling me. “My betrothed. I watched through the window as they laughed and talked and kissed. My parents were there, looking on with wary smiles on their faces as if they too, couldn’t believe it.”