Sleepless Beauties: A Rejected Mates Paranormal Romance (The Vampires Vendetta Series Book 1)

by A. K. Koonce

  It doesn’t even come fucking close.

  Just ask my sister.

  “Where—where is my sister?”

  I don’t want to fight with him anymore. I just want to know that Kyra’s okay.

  His smile slips away, fast.

  Are they ever genuine for him? Does he even feel happiness? Amusement? Anything?

  He drags his dusty boot up my green blanket and rests his arm on the bend of his knee. He doesn’t look at me. He studies the moon instead.

  He can’t look at me.

  “Tell me she’s fine. Tell me!” I’m shaking, and it’s no longer from the chill in the room.

  “Stop talking,” he says in the rasp of a breath. Barely a whisper.

  “Just fucking tell me!”

  In the skip of a heartbeat he’s in my face. His inky hair fans into place as he breathes down against my lips. His eyes darken, their pale blue is stained with emotion and blood in his gaze. Long fingers snatch a hold of my jaw and he makes sure my eyes are locked on to the violence contained within his.

  “I. Said. Stop. Talking.”

  His teeth are bared to me, his fangs flashing out. His breath beats down on my tongue as I stare up at the man who I once thought was my sister’s boyfriend.

  And he won’t tell me that she’s fine. She’s okay.

  She’s alive…

  “She’s dead.” I blink up at him, unable to fully close my mouth as I try to bring air into my lungs with shaking breaths.

  His hold on my face loosens. The bright red color in his gaze seeps out and the bitter blue comes right back. A lost look lingers there. It reflects my own sense of misplacement.

  “She’s dead… again.” My voice shatters on those words.

  My heart hurts, but for some reason the pain isn’t as breaking as it was the first time around.

  Or maybe it is.

  “Stop… stop crying,” he whispers.

  I blink, and wetness clings to my lashes as silent tears streak down my face. Tears I wasn’t even aware of until now.

  And then his hand slides down my neck, across my shoulder, down my arm. His cool touch rests along the back of my hand. But he doesn’t hold me. He doesn’t embrace me in his arms and try to smother my sadness with his affection.

  He lets me feel every cutting emotion.

  It’s not at all like it was the first time she died.

  “Why couldn’t she just stay dead!?” I scream the words out. They’re a secret thought I’ve whispered a thousand times in my own head.

  “Why? Why couldn’t she leave me blissfully unaware of…. YOU!?” I shove the vampire’s hand away and he lets me go without a struggle. “Fucking vampires! Why? Why couldn’t you just leave her dead? Why… why did you give me her grief… twice?” I stutter out the last word as I slam my fist into his chest.

  His subtle exhale is the only indication I hit him at all.

  I hit him again against the solid build of his unnatural body, and he lets me. He just takes it. Again. And again. And again.

  Until the sobs stuck in my throat creep out and I fall forward from the pressure it releases in my heart. I slump forward, and he doesn’t react. My tears bleed into his shirt. The light feel of his fingers along my back are hesitant at first, but then his palms smooth down my spine and he holds me like he’s the only thing that’s keeping me from collapsing from the force of too much anger and sadness… and guilt.

  He picks me up for the second time in one day, but this time he’s sweeping me off my feet and cradling me against him. Flawless steps, barely moving my body at all bring us to my bed and he places me in the middle. He curls up behind me, his arms still wrapped around me in an intimate way that calms my heart.

  But that’s not what I want from him.

  I don’t want him here.

  He hates my kind.

  How dare he try to twist his hatred into something it’ll never be.

  “Get out.” I say it so quietly it barely leaves my lips, but I know he hears me.

  He releases me slowly. Space suddenly feels colder against my back as he moves further away on the bed.

  “Get out of my room.”

  He pushes off from the mattress and doesn’t make a sound as he stands. I still feel him there, staring at me from the edge of the bed. A second slips by. Then I faintly hear the click of the door as he closes it behind him. It’s the only indication he’s gone. I blink through the tears I can’t seem to stop, but I refuse to make a sound. I won’t show my weakness to one of them.

  I won’t.

  Because my sister was indestructible.

  And look what they fucking did to her.

  When pale sunlight creeps across my bed, I lie there in the warmth of it for hours. It crawls over the room while I hide beneath the blankets and think about all the things I’ve already dwelled on through the long dark hours of the night.

  I tried to protect her. I was her only friend.

  And I failed her.

  Twice.

  I swallow that thought down. It’s a weird sense of grieving I’m trapped in. Because my sister, she truly did die two years ago. The woman I’ve met and maintained a relationship with during the time since, she wasn’t the same girl I grew up with. She wasn’t the twin who understood my every thought.

  She was… frigid and proper. Scared almost.

  I know why.

  Of course I understood.

  But it’s hard to mourn someone you’ve already lost a long time ago.

  The emotions within me are a pushing and pulling confliction of ups and downs. She’s gone, but her heart is at some form of peace now.

  Finally.

  When I shove out from the blankets and sneak into the bathroom, the cold flooring sends chills across my flesh. I leave the light off as I brush my teeth at a slow and distracted pace.

  Wow, you’d think I was avoiding a monster lurking in my living room.

  Probably because I fucking am.

  I know Prey is still here. Seventy-two hours, at least. I wouldn’t be surprised if he continued to check up on me for the rest of my short mortal life. That’s what the council of Crimson City does, they keep tabs on the suspicious.

  And I’m sus as hell in this case.

  Do they know I checked up on them last month? I surveyed the house. The House, I suppose I should say.

  I spotted the man Kyra described, the cruel one everyone fears.

  I just wasn’t fast enough to kill him before he killed her…

  With a swipe of a wet rag over the dried blood along my temple, I realize I’ve stalled as long as I can. I can’t ignore the bloodsucking leech in my apartment any longer.

  I slip through my bedroom and quietly open the door.

  Then I fling my fist out so fast that the man looming over me doesn’t even have time to react. My knuckles meet the hard plane of his abdomen and he folds on impact. The lazy lean he had as he lounged against the door frame crumbles in half a second. My tired eyes watch while Prey hisses out a lost breath as I simply walk past him to my couch and curl up there with my morning blanket. Once I’m wrapped like a pretty cocoon, not yet ready to spread my wings and fly, I acknowledge the coughing creature.

  “Put a fucking shirt on and don’t get comfortable in my house.”

  He slowly lifts back to his impressive height, but there’s a new glare in his eyes.

  “Did your sister never tell you not to attack your superiors?”

  Superiors.

  He can call himself whatever he likes, but he’ll always be the kind of monster humans whisper about.

  I hold his crisp blue gaze without blinking. “So your kind can attack us, but not the other way around?”

  His hand still lingers on the etched lines of his lean stomach and the smile he gives me is on the cutting edge of hostility.

  “Vampires are consensual beings.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Prey stalks toward me like the predator he really is. His long fingers brace against
the back of the couch as he cages me in to hold my gaze.

  He smells like a surprising mixture of honey and spice. I stop myself from leaning in closer to the addicting scent.

  He isn't hot coffee. There’s no lustful humming or orgasmic eye flutters when I smell him.

  Shit, did I just hum?

  “To be fed from is the most erotic sense of pleasure you could ever know, Pretty Pet,” he whispers. “There are more than enough of volunteers. We do not need to attack.”

  My foot extends fast and hard, slamming into his stomach once more. A groan rumbles from his throat as the air heaves from his lungs in one big huff.

  But he manages to catch my ankle. And he holds me there.

  “You don’t need to attack. But you still fucking do!” I accuse through clenched teeth.

  With a flash of fangs, his own sharp teeth shine back at me. “Do not. Ever. Attack me.” His nails bite into the skin just above my foot.

  I refuse to wince from the pain.

  Blood slides down my flesh from around his fingertips.

  He’s controlled. He won’t bite my leg off simply from catching the smell of blood. But the ruby color shadowing his pale blue eyes is a telling sign.

  “Let go,” I grind out.

  His glare burns into mine. Beneath the soft throw blanket my fingers dig into my palm and every calculated way I can think of to hurt him circles my mind.

  How to make it look like an accident?

  A slip of the pencil to the eye: death by guy liner. A thousand flat-iron burns: an e-boy’s tragic demise. Introducing him to Andy Biersack: A fanboy’s heart failure.

  I don’t have time for any of those scenarios, unfortunately.

  Instead, I leap off the couch and tackle his ass to the floor with a heavy thump. Prey releases a grunt of pain, but that pain is given right back to me as we flip suddenly. He shoves me down before the air hits my lungs again. And then his hands are around my upper arms, holding my hands above my head as he stares down on me with more spite than I’ve ever seen from the conniving vampire before.

  He hates me...

  Our breaths clash between us and there’s no gentleness as we glare at one another.

  There is nothing but animalistic violence in the air.

  Until…

  “You were told to protect her, not fuck her,” someone says with laughter kissing their warm, deep words.

  From my low-lying spot on the floor, I look over the small coffee table to find two—very large—men standing there.

  With luggage.

  As if they’re planning to stay a while.

  Motherfucker!

  Three

  Kira

  The first man strides in as if this has been his apartment for years and he’s happily reunited with all his beloved possessions after a long time away. Probably has renter’s insurance or some shit. His luggage —an old Bull’s duffle bag— gets tossed on the couch without care. He kicks his enormous sneakers off haphazardly near the door, flinging dirt over the beige carpet as he goes.

  The second man sets his duffle down quietly and I appreciate him as he slowly slips out of his shoes and closes the door behind him.At least one of these assholes has manners.

  Then his hand grips the bottom of his green shirt and he pulls it up slowly. Inch by glorious inch of smooth bronze skin reveals the deep lines of his abdomen.

  My eyebrows lift high, but that’s the only outrage I’m capable of expressing. My brain is detesting it, complaining about the audacity, but my uterus is already bundling up a little egg and preparing it like a present just for him, whenever he’s ready.

  He folds the shirt, but when he unbuttons and drops his jeans, my brain finally clocks back into work.

  “Who the fuck are you two?” I sputter from the floor, still trapped and held prisoner in my own house by the jerk leaning above me.

  The man is folding his jeans now as well, his innocent and smiling eyes finally meet mine, as if he forgot I was here at all.

  Yeah. Y’all invited me to my your housewarming party here, asshole. Please acknowledge me!

  He kneels down on his hunches, squatting in nothing but a pair of tight black boxers and a bulge that not even Mother Mary could ignore.

  He sweeps his long golden blonde hair from his eyes, giving me a gleaming smile like the sun rising over a crashing ocean.

  “Vuitton,” he extends his big hand an inch away from mine… the one that’s held down to the floor where I’ve been pinned.

  I pause, but awkwardly lift my wrist as much as I can. He proceeds to shake it like the weird gentleman that he is before releasing it.

  My hand drops to the floor like a dead fish, yet still he lingers.

  “Louis and I are guards.”

  “Wolves,” Louis corrects.

  “Wolves,” Prey rolls his eyes hard.

  “Don’t be mad, little leech. It’s not our fault that our senses are so superior.” Vuitton is still smiling that big aloof smile he walked in with.

  “Louis and Vuitton.” I blink at that.

  Vuitton smiles, like a dog about to pounce a tennis ball.

  “Your sister named us. We’re her personal guards when she needs us.”

  “Were. We were her guards,” Louis corrects once more as he pulls his shirt off and gazes intently out the foggy glass window that overlooks my quiet street.

  Guard dogs.

  My sister had a pair of guard dogs.

  And she named them after shoes…

  I blink up at the enormous beautiful man as I try to sort out the mess my life has become.

  Kyra Vega had a vampire assistant and two pet werewolves for protection.

  And still her enemies managed to kill her.

  “How did she die?” I ask so quietly, but the room halts on a dime the moment I say those words.

  Prey finally loosens the pressure he’s been holding over my wrists. He releases me slowly, and it’s with a hard frown etching his smooth features that he leaves me lying there. He stalks off toward the kitchen without looking back at me.

  Vuitton looks to Louis, but the two of them remain silent.

  I close my eyes and just wish I could fall right through the cracks in the floor. To be absorbed into the carpet and floorboards and hope that that existence feels better than this crushing grief. As I lie here wishing for numbness through the anxiety and confusion, Vuitton finally speaks in a gentle rumble of words.

  “Someone did it while she slept.” His honesty lights up the darkness. His soft words reveal what Kyra already knew would happen.

  Exactly what she warned me about last month.

  Someone would hurt her there.

  Again.

  “They found her lying in her coffin just before sunset two nights ago. Other than the four of us and Royale, no one else knows.” The enormous man is still lingering at my side. I stare up at him, dissecting those last words.

  “Why does no one know of her death? Why isn’t it being investigated?” I fling myself up then and look at Louis for more information, but the man hasn’t shifted his eyes from the glass window even once.

  “Why do you think we’re here, Pretty Pet?” Prey says in that cruel and cutting tone of his.

  He leans against my kitchen wall as he gazes at me like I’m a toy to be played with.

  I process his question, and only one answer comes to mind.

  “I’m a ploy. A trap for whoever did this to Kyra.”

  Edged laughter rumbles from the vampire as he throws his head back and really enjoys what he seems to see as stupidity.

  “You’re her twin. The twin no one knew about.” He tilts his head at me. “No one knows Kyra is dead.”

  My memories flicker through all the twin swaps Kyra and I did to mom. Our friends. Our teachers. Everyone. They all flash before my eyes over and over again.

  “You want me to be bait… in your world.”

  Vuitton doesn’t meet my searching eyes, but Prey just smiles at me. He smiles in
that way that makes me think he might eat me alive if everyone turned their heads away for longer than a second. My stomach drops just imagining being planted among the deadliest creatures our world has come to know. And I’m supposed to trick them long enough to catch a killer? The numbness I had craved so badly finally settles in.

  “Royale will be here after nightfall. He’s too old to sun-walk like I do. He’ll get everything in order for you,” Prey shoves off from his leaning spot and flops down on my green velvet couch.

  Still shirtless. Still acting as if this is their home and not mine.

  “Hey!” A banging resounds through the room. “Hey, that’s not your stoop. That’s not yours!” More ruckus than I’ve yet heard from Louis erupts as he bangs his forehead off the glass not once but twice, scolding someone down below the entire time. “Tie your dirty fucking shoes somewhere else, bitch! This ain’t your building. Keep walking. Yeah, you better keep going, you loose-laced cunt.”

  My wide eyes blink slowly attempting to process all of that.

  His every muscle is taut and flexed as he continues to chew the woman out from the safety of my second story apartment living room. The fog his breath leaves against the glass is smudged from how he’s rubbed his chin and nose on the window too many times. Vuitton looks wildly interested, his brown eyes big and watchful as he hops up and strides over to his friend.

  “She won’t be coming back here any time soon,” Vuitton encourages, clapping Louis on the shoulder as the two nearly naked men appraise their good work.

  And I’m left sitting on the floor. More confused and worried than when I first woke up.

  Four

  Kira

  I’m still glaring daggers at the three strangers in my living room as I sip a soda in my kitchenette. Louis and Vuitton still guard the window, barking their asses off anytime someone so much as spits gum on the sidewalk. Prey naps… do vampires nap? Anyway, Prey lounges with his dark lashes fanned over his sharp cheekbones on the couch, his feet hanging off the edge as he rests.