by P. A. Warren
I hang my head between my legs and remember Griffin telling me I would never be allowed to find a mate. It wasn’t in his plan, and I should be grateful he trained me the way he did. After a moment, I stand. I can’t just give in, I have to fight it. Maybe seeing one of the blood whores will help me clear my head and get her out of it.
I walk to the set of apartments where dad keeps the live blood bank. I stroll in unnoticed and grin at a brown haired girl that reminds me of Megan Fox sitting on the couch. Confidently, I walk over to her, motioning for her to stand. I point towards a room and she obeys without hesitation. I watch her ass as sway back and forth, smiling, and I know she can definitely get Claire out of my head. I’ll know soon enough.
Walking her to the bed, I take her purple dress off and watch with pleasure as it slides to the floor. She is left in her lingerie, and I push her down on the soft bed while pulling my shirt off with vampire speed. I cover her with my body. I press my mouth against hers, pulling her lip with my teeth and letting my tongue invade her mouth. I kiss her plump lips and groan when I feel nothing, absolutely nothing. Frustrated, I move to her breasts and pull her bra down, taking her nipple in my mouth. I hear her mewls and know I’m doing something, only I’m not feeling any part of it. It’s actually boring me. Letting her nipple pop out of my mouth, I groan in frustration. I already know I’m not turned on one bit. I drop my head and let my eyes go back. I try again and pull the girl onto my lap and tilt her head and press my lips against her neck. Her moans tell me she is really into this. I am desperate to feel the same way. I clench my jaw tight and curse under my breath. It’s just no use. I feel nothing.
I turn her face toward me. “Look into my eyes,” I tell her in a monotone voice, “You are going to put your dress back on and go back to the couch and watch a movie. I was never here, and we were never in bed. You did nothing today.”
Blinking rapidly, I break contact with her and she looks at me confused. “Why are you here?”
I make up the first thing that comes to mind, “I was going to feed but decided not to.”
“You sure? No one’s fed on me for a while, and you haven’t come to my bed in forever,” she says coyly with her pouty lips.
“Oh, I’m positive,” I say, heading for the door. I shake my head in disbelief. I hardly know this girl, and I’m turning away someone who would normally keep me entertained for hours. Thanks to Claire and I accidently starting the bond, I have absolutely no problem doing that. That’s the ironic thing with bonds, once they’re started, they can’t be stopped. The thought of hurting someone who is your soul mate is excruciating, and you immediately become their protector. The irony is that I am in fact her jailer and torturer. I’ve done bad things in my life. I’m not a good guy, but maybe I can be good for her.
I walk rapidly towards my apartment on the south side of the mansion and unlock the heavy door. I close it and lean against it, contemplating my next move. I push away from the door and head straight towards the fridge, grabbing a bag of blood, ripping it open and pressing it to my mouth. I swallow without a second thought, not even bothering with a glass. Within seconds it’s empty and I toss it into the trash. My hands are at my shirt buttons before I even think about it, unbuttoning them and pulling it out of my pants. I jerk it off and toss it to the floor, unconcerned for the mess I’m making. I move towards my bedroom and grab a black pair of track pants and black hoodie and head for the shower. I run the water full blast, and while waiting for the water to warm, I take in my reflection, staring hard at Claire’s name above my heart. It appears so very foreign on my body. I have tattoos on my arms and back, but those were all chosen by me, and none on my chest. The tattoos are there for one reason and one reason only, to cover up the scars from the whippings I received from my dad, because in his eyes I was a weakling and still am. He thought if he beat me enough I’d become more of a man, but what I became was a great actor. I’m not stupid, I know he has cameras in the cell Claire’s in. I lift my hand to my chest and slowly trace her name that now lies there, feeling a jolt as I do. Stepping into the warm water, I let it rain over me as I sort everything out and how the hell I’m supposed to break the news to Claire. What I regret is that she saw the part of me that I don’t allow people to see. Most only see the dark side of me, the torturer side, and they don’t ever live to tell about it.
Claire, oh God, when I first saw her I knew I would have to pull my act together and make her see the evil that I am. I find myself wondering how I can I have a bond mate that’s considered the enemy and not even a full vampire? The things my father has done to her, and the things I said to her, may cause her to never feel safe with me as her mate. I feel disgusted with myself and slam my fist into the shower wall, making a huge dent. I instantly feel the pain of my broken fingers and watch as they slowly heal themselves. My anger isn’t appeased. I want to feel more pain—no, I need to feel pain. Unfortunately, I have to see my dad, and I can’t take my anger out on him, no matter how badly I want to. I step out of the shower and open a drawer. I grab a knife, gripping it in my fist and slide it across my chest, over her name, and watch blood flow down my chest. I enjoy the relief it gives me for a few minutes and then watch as my skin heals itself. Sometimes I hate the fact that my skin heals itself. Griffin uses his silver knife, his weapon of choice that creates scarring. He likes seeing the scars he creates, and he’s also a sick bastard.
Before meeting my dad, I stop by the basement and locate the guards who are playing poker in a smoky room across from Claire’s. I glare at them when they fail to notice me. I walk to the table where they have everything laid out and knock the thing over. I am satisfied at the loud sound it makes crashing down, and the guards jump to their feet and stand at attention.
“Good, you’re paying attention. No one but me is allowed in there,” I say, pointing at Claire’s door. “Not Griffin, not anyone but me. Should anyone else be allowed in, I will take great pleasure in killing each and every one of you.”
They look up, startled, but know better than to question my orders. They’ve been trained not to question anything. If they question orders, they are dead.
Leaving them, I rapidly walk through the basement up to the area of the house where Griffin resides. The ornateness of the living room is so ridiculous, I think as I walk under the huge chandelier Dad had imported from France. I slow down once I get to the family hallway and notice a guard standing at attention. I nod towards him in a cocky manner. I manage to keep my mouth in a straight line and look at him in the way that I do to bring true fear to his eyes. So far it’s the only way I’ve survived this long. If I show weakness, I will be staked by Griffin without a second thought.
I stroll into Griffin’s office without knocking and let the door shut behind me with a soft click. I find him going through papers, and I wait for him to glance up at me. It’s so quiet in the room and the only noise is the crinkling of paper and the fireplace crackling as wood pops with heat.
He looks at me as he finishes signing off on a paper and puts it aside, steepling his fingers under his chin, acknowledging my presence. The irony isn’t lost on me. He needs me as an integral part of his fight for the Vampire Kingdom, and yet he doesn’t think I’m worthy to be his son.
“How is she doing?” he quietly asks as he puts the papers in a drawer. I swallow any doubt I have and walk over to the liquor cabinet and pour a glass of bourbon. I smile as I take a sip, only to see him smirking at me.
“Is it really necessary to drink this early?”
“I’m a vampire. Time doesn’t really matter to me anymore…hasn’t since I turned, but then you should know that.”
“You are so like your mother, disgraceful. She was nothing but a whore,” he responds sharply.
I ignore him and the twinge that hits me every single time he says this to me. I drain the glass, looking at him over the rim. “I’m going to need full access to her twenty-four/seven with no interruptions from you or the guards. You cannot go in there
and neither can the guards. It will mess up everything I’ve been working on with her.”
“She needs to be broken that bad, eh son?”
Nodding carefully, I look up at him insolently as I grip the glass firmly. “She’s a tough one to break, Sir.”
“Well, you know who her grandmother was right?”
I shake my head and sit, placing my glass on my leg and letting my fingers circle over the rim.
“Her grandmother was the great Augustine,” he says sarcastically.
I instantly stop the circular motion with my hand and listen to him ramble on about Augustine. She is one of the great few Vampire Witches. It’s said she single-handedly stopped a vampire war on the humans in 1654 and has been called for every conflict from then on.
“Well, that’s interesting to know,” I abruptly stand. “Oh, and by the way, I borrowed one of the blood whores and ended up taking too much from her, so you’re one short.”
Not caring, I throw the rest of my liquor in the fireplace and get a glimmer of satisfaction when I watch the fire shoot up. I set my glass on the table and nonchalantly walk out of his office and towards my room as if I wasn’t planning on backstabbing the man that made me into the evil uncaring person I am today. Picking up my phone, I dial the number of a friend who I know can help me, Mikail Tsarev. He’s a contract killer who’s worked for us before. I’ve had his back many times, and it’s time for me to call in that favor he owes me.
I listen to the phone ring and impatiently slam my fist into the wall, leaving a hole there. Shards of sheet rock litter the floor, but whatever, it’s a wall it can be replaced. After the eighth ring, he finally picks up the phone.
“What the hell took you so long to answer your phone?”
“Dude, I’m driving. Take a chill pill,” he says.
“I’m calling in that favor you owe me.” I sit on the bed pulling at a random blue string on the comforter.
Scoffing, Mikail laughs, “How do I owe you a favor?”
“How soon you forget the Audra incident.”
“Dude, I told you never to bring her name up again.”
“I never told anyone what she did to you, or how she left you handcuffed naked to the bed with a pair of her—”
“Okay, okay, I get it. What exactly do you need?”
Calming down the urge to laugh, I throw the blackmail pictures that I took before uncuffing him from the bed into the fire, staring as the flames destroy them. “I need a safe place to hide with a girl, a girl that my father took prisoner, and one that I’m trying to keep safe.”
“No shit, your dad kidnapped a girl?” he asks curiously.
“Yep.”
“So the awesome Riley Dumont actually had to call me for help? Today’s my lucky day,” he says sarcastically.
“Why exactly are you doing all this for a girl?”
I ignore his last comment and snap at him, “Call or text me when you get the location for me.”
I hit the end button and throw the phone on the bed. I step to the window and watch the moon rise, trying to figure a way out of this crappy situation.
Chapter 15
Mikail
Well that’s quite an interesting development, I think, shaking my head as I hang up the phone. Riley does have Claire and for some reason he’s trying to keep her safe, to the extent that he wants to call in a favor, and he never calls in favors, ever. What could have possibly happened to make him want to defy Griffin and go through the trouble to save someone when normally he’s in the business of killing them? The last time I checked, he took great pleasure in killing people. Tapping my fingers on the wheel and biting my lip, I look over at a sleeping Jason, who has no idea that I’m working with Griffin, and now Riley, or the shit storm that’s going to happen. What a friggin’ mess. I hit the steering wheel in anger. I can’t believe how all this happened. Everything was going fine until those two powers hungry fools concocted their stupid plans, and now Claire’s gone. What the hell did she do to deserve this? Nothing. She was born, and she goes from living a normal life to this shit. When she’s finally mine, I’ll make sure her life is protected no matter what. I grab a bag of blood and force myself to look at the bright side. I realize this is going to work out in my favor, and Riley has just made my life ten times easier if he is bringing Claire to me.
The reason why, however, has me worried a bit though. Something doesn’t seem right, and I know there’s something he isn’t telling me, but what is it? Pulling over to the side of the road, I get out and grab a file full of the houses that are available to use as a hideout. I flip through them and find the one I’m looking for. I type in the address and text it to him. Shoving everything back into the trunk in its special compartment, I slam it shut, take a seat, and pull out my phone to call Augustine.
“Riley called me,” I tell her in Hungarian before she has the chance to say hello.
“What did he want?” she questions me while talking to someone in the background.
“He wants me to find him a safe house so he can bring Claire there.”
“This is perfect,” she responds, sounding a bit too chipper for my liking. “It worked! Listen whatever happens, I’ll fix it.”
“What worked? What do you mean, you’ll fix it? What exactly would you need to fix?”
“Oh, nothing, something I’m working on. Listen, I have to go. I’ll call you soon.”
Staring down at my phone, I flip it the bird. What the hell is it about today that no one answers any damn questions anymore? I sit there and cool down, getting my thoughts in order. I watch quietly as the cars pass, when my silence is interrupted by the opening of the car door and Jason hops onto the trunk.
Seriously? I’m not in the mood to deal with his shit right now. I’m on edge. I feel like a taut wire and the slightest thing’s going to make me snap. Jumping off the hood, I reach in the passenger side and grab my hoodie, pulling it on and putting the hood over my head. I hop into the car so I don’t have to deal with Jason for a few minutes.
“Dude, what’s your problem?” he asks, leaning down to get in the car.
What I want to say is you’re an asshole, and I want to jam my fist up your nose, but what I actually say is, “Nothing. Let’s go to Antony’s lair we should be there in an hour.”
My phone rings just as I’m pulling back onto the highway. I pull it out and glance down, frowning as the name flashes on the screen. It’s Griffin. Son of a friggin’ hell. Why is everyone and his brother calling me today? “Hello?”
“Mikail, how’s it going?”
Switching to French, I look over to Jason. He’s digging in his bag for some blood. I hit his leg and point to the bag by his left foot. He glares at me as he grabs one. Rolling my eyes, I get back to the phone call.
“As good as can be expected,” I lie. “That was quite a trick you pulled yesterday, kidnapping the girl, I mean. Though I’m kind of confused as to why you hired me in the first place if you were going to do it yourself.”
He sighs into the phone. “Complications came up, and I did what was needed. I no longer need your services as I’ve put Riley on the situation.”
“Mhm, well next time let me know when the situation changes. That was an asshole move on your part,” I hiss and hang up before he has a chance to respond.
Throwing my phone into the center console, I feel my anger building. I’m so sick of power hungry men who think I’m at their beck and call and screw me over.
Chapter 16
Jason
Mikail finally gets off the phone, and I can feel the anger radiating off him. It makes me wonder what’s going on to make him that angry as I watch him shaking his head at the phone.
“Who was that?” I question him.
“Just a friend,” he says as we both sit back and stare at the gate in front of us. The security guard comes out as we pulled up, and Mikail puts his black sunglasses over his eyes and rolls his window down to talk to the burly man.
“My man, w
e are here to see the Antony,” he says, smiling at the guard.
“Do you have an appointment?” he asks in response, his tone bored.
“Yes, yes we do,” Mikail replies confidently.
I sit straighter in my seat, not looking at either of them, knowing we don’t have an appointment. Finally, the guy, for some reason, believes Mikail and lets us through. Driving through the gate and down a winding driveway, Mikail pulls up to the house and puts the car in park, and we stare out the car windows. The house, if you can call it a house, is built out of brown stone. There is a huge front door and I can see through the window a giant lit chandelier hanging in the foyer.
Pushing the car door open, I glance around at the grounds, and it’s eerily quiet, too quiet for my liking. I peer up and stop to take in the huge palatial house that the King of Vampires lives in. It’s a massive monstrosity. There are guards out front by the door, and I zone in on security cameras that are most likely recording us now. This place gives me the creeps.
Mikail gets out of the car and motions for me to follow him up the steps. He rings the doorbell and we wait on the porch awkwardly, neither of us saying a word. I look over at Mikail and watch him stand there eyeballing the guard as footsteps approach the door. When it opens in front of us, there stands something that makes my mouth drop open. It’s Claire.
“That’s not Claire,” Mikail says.
Ignoring him, I walk towards her.
“Claire, what are you doing here? How did you get away?” I grab her around the waist in relief, not even dawning on me that her hair is blonde instead of brown like Claire’s.
“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me,” she says, punctuating each word with anger. Whoa. I feel my brows lift in surprise. This is not the nice Claire I know. I take a big step back and put both hands up, showing her my palms and that I’m not a threat to her. She first looks at me and then to Mikail, studying us now that I have created some distance.