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

by A. K. Koonce

  My heart seizes.

  I have to be deadly careful of my heartbeat from here on out!

  And I will be.

  “Put me down,” I finally whisper.

  I don’t look at him. It surprises me how gentle he is when he lowers me down his hard body and lets my heels click against the sidewalk before finally dragging his hands away. One hand grazes the open back part of my dress and a shiver races after his touch as he skims his fingers down my spine.

  What the fuck is happening?

  Why is my pulse sounding alarms right now?

  I inhale slowly and exhale even slower.

  Everything will be fine.

  I count the drumming within my chest until it’s no longer something I can hear, but only something I’ll depend on dearly for the next four weeks.

  Stay alive.

  That’s the only goal when you’re a human walking into a den of thirsty vampires.

  If I’m not careful, I could end up dead… or worse.

  Something looming sends a spider crawling chill across my flesh. My attention drifts to the moon haloing the lone building just past the draping vines of the willow trees surrounding us. Through the dry leaves, the spikes of the church can be seen piercing the starless sky. The jagged metal sheathing the tips of the pointed roof top are as ornate as they are ominous.

  But there’s not a single cross in sight.

  But it’s still a place of religion. It was once a house of God, though now its faith is one of a different kind.

  A very, very different kind.

  I think back to when I snuck up to the property of Hell after Kyra’s confession that she feared someone within the council. Some vampires can walk relatively freely in the daylight, but they’re still very much creatures of the night. I had spied on the cruelest vampire: Aston. He was exactly as my sister described: Heartless to the core.

  I spotted him cornering Kyra. I knew who he was by her body language during their simple interaction: from the way she repelled away from him, but he just kept going. He kept on antagonizing her. It was quiet in the bright afternoon hours as I watched through the window. And I was just as quiet while I plotted his gruesome death.

  I’ll finally be able to make good on that plan.

  Today I’ll walk in as Kyra, and walk out as a killer.

  And knowing that no one will ever have to fear the man who took so much from Kyra ever again, that will be enough to ease my conscience.

  I’m skipping too far ahead, though. I can’t think about that right now. I have to focus on… not breaking my very mortal neck in these monstrously high heels. It’s pathetic that this entire plan of theirs could crumple all because of a sprained ankle.

  I lift my head high, straighten my shoulders to an impossible standard, and stride down the smooth brick sidewalk.

  I only make it a few steps before I get pulled back into the brushing limbs of the tree. They sway around my hair in the cold breeze. I peer up at the dark eyes searching my face.

  Vuitton’s worry isn’t a mask like Prey’s. The line between his eyebrows is deep and his apprehension in his gaze goes even deeper.

  “Be careful, Kira,” he whispers as he steps away. “I’ll be watching. Keeping you safe.”

  That’s sweet. He sounds a little creepy, but the situation calls for some borderline stalking, I think…

  His palm slides down my arm and around my wrist, toying with my fingers before he lets go. And then he turns away.

  His enormous body grows in size. It’s an impossible sight to witness beneath the white light of the moon. His shoulders widen, his neck thickens, and his entire frame morphs and grows into a beast of a man. As he runs off into the night, the sound of cloth tearing accompanies him. He carries on with a howl of animalistic excitement and human pain tinging his melodious cry to the moon.

  My wide eyes watch him until the night completely absorbs him into the darkness.

  “Where is he going?” I ask, trying to reclaim my lost breath.

  I thought he’d accompany me the entire time. I thought I’d have his help. I thought I could depend on one fucking person at least.

  “Wolves, especially members of Creature Control, do not enter our domain without an invitation.” Rival doesn’t seem concerned in the least, and the sound of his footfalls are a command that forces me to turn away from the shifter.

  And Makes accept that ultimately, I’m in this alone.

  Just as I have been for the past two years.

  Prey walks just a step behind me, and I’ll admit he’s good at playing the part of the dutiful servant.

  For once.

  I pretend not to be aware of him at all as I follow Rival up the many stairs to the front of the enormous, towering cathedral. I don’t gawk at the decorative metal that lines the heavy door, or the way that dark metal can be found lining every seam of the foyer. It’s like a crown molding straight out of the dark ages.

  My heels clicking rhythmically over the stone tile flooring is the only sound that can be heard. The ancient building emits a gloomy atmosphere that seems to settle right in and makes itself at home under my skin. Thick gray curtains made of fine silk hang from the high ceilings and cascade down to a fraction of an inch above the smooth stone floor. Though the walls are painted black, a carved mural of a crucifixion still lines the wall directly in front of us, just above a set of opened double doors. It’s like a mouth leading into the stomach of the church, and I have a pretty good idea about what lies in the bowels.

  When we cross the threshold of the doors, Rival’s palm burns down the opening of my dress and his touch across my skin nearly makes me stumble. There’s a clatter of heels and a gasp of air as I teeter uncertainly.

  Then, just before I fall, he’s pushing me against the wall, staggering my steps even more in a loud clattering of noise. Cold stone scrapes my spine as his warm hands cover the small of my back before the softest lips press desperately over mine.

  And just like that, my messy fall is turned into a messy, confusing, conflicting, all-consuming kiss.

  The petite and polite sound of someone clearing their throat drags Rival away from me. My thoughts blot back into my lust-filled mind once more, and I have to try hard to appear like I’m not sedated by his simple allure.

  “You may have missed her, but you don’t have to be rude, Royale,” a woman says with a soft laugh warming her words.

  She’s an enchanting vision of perfection. Ruby red lips are full against her bright white teeth with two sharp points pressing down along her bottom lip. Her dark brown eyes are somehow glimmering in the glowing yellow lighting. The emerald dress she wears flares daintily around her smooth thighs.

  There isn’t a single flaw to be seen on her slender frame.

  Not one… aside from a faint splatter of blood against her chin.

  I smooth my dress and try to think of what my sister would do in this situation. No, not my sister. The sister I knew would have laughed loudly and charmed this vampire den like it was a frat party.

  So what would a spy do? What would I do?

  My chin lifts higher, and I slip past Rival with our chests brushing lightly, my palm smoothing down his sleek black tie as I go.

  “Acessa,” I say her name in greeting like it’s honey flowing over my tongue. I try not to look her in the eye as I pass, not out of fear, but I give my best to just breeze through the room like it’s been my home for the last two years and not just the last two minutes.

  Two men lean against the wall, both of whom are missing shirts, and one of whom doesn’t seem to be aware that his pants are unzipped all the way down. Both are in a daze, staring forward with hooded eyes that seem to see absolutely nothing.

  I ignore both of them as well while I casually step over their legs to make my way to the table.

  Without question, I take the chilled red wine from the long dining room table. It’s hard to keep my pulse calm as I pour a meager amount into a crystal glass.

  I can’t
focus on anything. Everything feels much too important, and yet I have to seem aloof to it all. My hands settle on the table and I push up to slide myself on the edge, crossing my legs as I sit carelessly before the three of them.

  Rival arches a dark eyebrow at my perch. Acessa keeps her beautiful smile in place. Prey catches my eye, and there’s a slight gleam there. His smirk is a cutting thing, and it feels testing but prideful all at once.

  “How was Milan?” The woman asks with her big curious eyes.

  I buy myself some time to think by taking a sip of wine.

  My tongue curls back from the liquid the very second it touches my lips. The thickness of it alone is enough to turn my stomach.

  Because it’s not wine.

  It’s cold blood.

  Oh my God, is it their blood? My eyes dart to the two shirtless men. So many thoughts race through my mind: Spit it out! No! Swallow that shit! Swa-llow. It!

  I have to sit here and freeze this fucking charming smile in place as the chilled blood soaks into my tongue like battery acid on a sponge.

  Until I’m finally able to swallow it down.

  My throat constricts. My lips curl within the plaster of a smile I hold in place, and it nearly comes out my fucking nose as I hold in my cough.

  Never once does my smile fall.

  Acessa waits patiently and enthusiastically for my reply the entire goddamn time.

  “Beautiful. As. Aa-always,” I grunt out, trying hard for effortless poise, but sounding more like an alley cat with a bad coke problem instead.

  The snorting sound of Prey’s laughter shakes through the room, but Acessa and I continue to smile pleasantly at one another.

  “Ah, I wish I could go. I do wish I can leave our home soon.” She keeps chatting while I flash my attention to Rival, who just looks as impassive as ever.

  Why don’t all the vampires leave this place?

  “How was Markin and the European den?” Acessa asks.

  Ah… yes. Markin. And the other Euros… Um. Well...

  Fuck.

  “He was the same old Markin,” I give a little insider-joking-laugh at the end of that vague little remark and thank the ever-loving fuck that Acessa laughs along with me.

  Prey snorts annoyingly once more, and I want nothing more than to break his nose so he never gets to make that arrogant sound again.

  Why the hell did no one brief me on absolutely anything besides shoes, posture and handbags?

  “Do you want to rest, Darling?” Rival asks so intimately I nearly blush.

  I can’t do that. Nope. I can not allow blood flow to rush anywhere, north or south. None. Can’t do it.

  I dip my head low and sweep my sweating palm across my cheeks in an attempt to steal away the warmth in my face.

  Fluidly, I slip down from the table and stride toward the man who is apparently so devoted to my sister.

  It feels like a violation of some girl code for me to be snuggling into his side as he takes my hand and leads me deeper into the bowels of the church.

  “Rest well,” Acessa says kindly from across the room.

  I bow my head to her with a smile as I leave.

  Prey walks slowly behind Rival and I, giving us plenty of respectful space.

  He’s so good at being bad, and yet so perfect at being a vampire’s assistant.

  How is that possible?

  “Take her to the croft.” Rival drops my hand the moment we’re out of sight and turns to Prey. “I have to find Pavel. He’s been asking about Kyra.” Rival strides away down a dark corridor to our right, and I’m left in the shadows with my least favorite Ann Rice character.

  Prey nods his head to the side in a ‘follow me’ sort of way but once we cross the hall that leads to the cellar, I already know my way around from the back entrance here. I’ve never been to the croft itself, but the windows in the cellar do provide a fairly nice viewpoint for spying.

  Prey offers me his hand when we reach the narrow stairs that lead down to a hard drop, and my attention looks from his hand to his eyes and then back again.

  “Habit,” he whispers like an apology before dropping his offer and slamming his shoulder into mine as he strides quickly down the steep steps.

  What exactly was Kyra’s relationship with these assholes? How could she stand so much undead testosterone in one house?

  Really though, what were their relationships?

  Prey seems dead set on making this life of Kyra’s as comfortable and easy as possible. He has had moments of tenderness toward me, but it seems more familiar than sexual. Vuitton… Well, Vuitton has been more than sweet. He’s been —the memory of his body pressed against mine flashes through my mind.—

  Was he like that with Kyra?

  I roll my eyes at myself for letting that stinging emotion flood through my chest.

  I quickly file it away to calm my aching heartbeat.

  And Rival? Yeah, they were definitely hooking up.

  What about Louis, then? The socially quiet but loudly protective shifter comes to mind. Though he was my sister’s protector, I don’t think there was anything deeper between them.

  How many boyfriends did Kyra have in this life?

  And if none of them were able to save her from her fate, what does that say about my prospects?

  When I take a deep but uneasy breath, I find that we’ve entered the bowels. And seven crofts are in a line at the center of the room. Each one has a number etched deeply into the coffin shaped tombs.

  “You’re six,” Prey tells me with a sweep of his hand. We walk toward it on slower steps, and just as I stand over my literal grave, someone else speaks.

  “I didn’t expect you back,” the gravelly tone says, “so soon.”

  The densely packed shadows of the dark room are all I can see, until the corner lamp splashes golden light over his black and white sneakers.

  Aston Cardence.

  “How have you been, Six?” He asks with a cruel smile that carves dimples into his taunting features.

  My heart hammers as I stare at the man who tormented my sister for the last two years of her life before killing her. Again.

  “Mistress,” Prey whispers with a bow of his head.

  The sudden formality he shows me serves as a reminder of my own existence.

  Of my pulse, and of what I have to hide.

  “Why, did you miss me, Cardence?” I ask on a snap that I wish could lash out physically at his pretty pink hair.

  His brows lift high and his pale green eyes flicker with something, but I’m not sure what it might be.

  “Oh, dearly,” he says with a smirk.

  His steps are languid, but with each one my heart begs to push me into fight or flight mode. Yet still I just stare, unimpressed at the daunting vampire.

  My heart storms, despite how hard I try to calm myself.

  With a fixated gaze he comes closer.

  He comes so close his hand lifts and that’s all the space that he allows between us. His shining attention flits across my features in an animalistic way. There’s a question in his sea glass colored eyes.

  Something… bad.

  “You look different,” he whispers curiously.

  Fuck.

  My pulse now feels like a mallet slamming into a spike, over and over again.

  “Yes. And it’s unfortunate that you still look the same, Cardence.”

  His mouth falls open with a half smirk of stunned shock. “Damnnn, Six,” he whispers with growing amusement.

  I turn away from him with a flick of my hair and my hands want to tremble badly, but I hold them delicately in front of me instead.

  “Prey,” I beckon as I stride to croft six.

  I wait with blank boredom painted on my face, and I refuse to exhale the painful breath I’m holding within the tightness of my chest. Prey works quickly to push aside my coffin lid for me, and it’s morbid that I’d rather crawl into my tomb and die than continue to look at that all-knowing man a single second longer.
>
  Prey offers me a hand. I slide my sweaty palm into his cold one and I instantly feel a little better. I feel a gentle squeeze there, and I know the two of them are watching me closely as I climb in. It feels like a trap to crawl into your own coffin. It feels like a lifetime of fearing death is washing into me with the intent of drowning me in a puddle of my own creation.

  I slide in.

  Smooth, cold stone kisses my flesh.

  It’s hard to swallow as I accept my fate.

  Then I lie down in my tomb, waiting for Prey to close the lid on my existence.

  The light squeal of hinges sounds like an alarm as the lid is lowered over my body inch by inch. I watch the light fade away with wide eyes.

  Panic slams against my chest. I lie immobile.

  A dim crack of light is all that is left.

  “Good night, Six,” Cardence whispers like a snake slithering in just before all the light is shut out.

  And then I’m left all alone.

  The darkness feels pressing. My fingers slide back and forth, touching my thighs before slipping the few inches to feel the smooth grain of the side of the sarcophagus. I do it again. I trace the space once more. Three inches. It can’t be more than three inches of space on either side of my body.

  The shaking exhale I release blows right back into my face. It’s hot and stifling and gives the illusion that there’s not enough air in here.

  There’s not enough air.

  There’s not!

  My palm collides with the top and I push so hard it flings open with a resounding slam. I’m sitting up so fast I nearly leap right out of the damn thing.

  But Prey is right there. His hands are against my shoulders in an instant, cool along my damp skin as he stares down at me hard.

  “I—I can’t stay in here. I—I need to get out!” The look I give him is too fragile, too scared, and I fucking hate it. I was doing so good at concealing that human side of me.

  Until now.

  “You,” his voice drops to a whisper and I realize Acessa is now watching us from across the room with a sparkle in her big brown eyes, “you need to lie down, mistress.” He lifts his brows rather sternly.

  He’s politely saying one thing while threatening me with a lift of his eyebrows.