Zorica and Declan: Restless Spades MC (A Bad Boy Paranormal Vampire Romance)

by Daniela Jackson

  I want to kill.

  “Maybe we could sit in our house,” Zorica says behind me, her voice muffled by my son’s screeching.

  There’s a red fog in my head. A rageful, ruthless fog.

  I nod. “Sounds like a plan.”

  My daughter looks at me like I’m an alien. Brad and she rise to their feet, holding hands. Holding the fucking hands in my presence.

  My daughter loves a man.

  When the fuck did that happen? She was never to grow up.

  Zorica

  Brad nurses my baby boy against his chest, leaning against the wall, as Declan pretends to be a civilised man. His thoughts are far from being civilised though. He wants to break bones, slit throats, and claw eyes out. But his urge to murder is nothing compared to the feeling of confusion and betrayal creeping into his head. I can sense only the delicate vibes of his emotions, but my heart hurts for him.

  I suspected… knew from the moment I met Brad. I’ve had enough time to make peace with what was to come, but Declan? It’s a shock for him.

  Maybe I should have told him, but this was too blurry at first, just a fragile impression, a dainty thought in the back of my head. Then our life just carried on—our kids, their education, their problems and dreams. Not to mention that as a vampire I’ve never been fully available.

  I realised Brad was my daughter’s future when she turned eighteen. I knew the storm was coming.

  Declan is a wonderful father, but he doesn’t like it when he has no control over things or people.

  Neve walks into our living room, carrying a tray in her hands. She puts it on the coffee table and slips down into the armchair, avoiding Declan’s glance. Electricity wafts through the air as though a hurricane is coming.

  Brad clears his throat, breaking the silence. “So—“

  “So?” Declan nods, a malicious grin curling his lips. “She’s eighteen, motherfucker.”

  “Declan,” I growl.

  My husband raises his hands. “What? He’s an old git.”

  “You promised,” I say with reproach.

  I see Declan grit his teeth and he says nothing.

  “Brother,” Brad says, “I’m gonna make your daughter the happiest woman on the face of the earth.” He bows his head. “I’ll be a good, faithful husband to Neve.”

  “You can’t make Neve the happiest woman in the world,” Declan says with a wicked gleam of his eyes. “My wife is the happiest woman on the face of the earth. This position has already been taken.”

  “Declan,” I hiss.

  Neve looks like she’s sitting on needles. Ross drops his head to hide his grin.

  “This is a happy night,” I say. “My daughter has found her eternal joy. We could celebrate… not argue.”

  “We should shake off the stress,” Declan says. He nods to himself and grins. “On the training ground.”

  Neve squeals as Ross pulls forward and Brad puts my baby into the cot. He flashes Neve a smile, bows at me and exits the room. Declan mutters something and follows them.

  Neve jumps to her feet and falls into my arms. “He’ll kill Brad.” Her sobs travel in the air.

  “He won’t. He’s angry but he knows Brad will be good to you, so don’t worry.”

  She sniffles and pulls away from me. “I’ll tidy up the kitchen.”

  “Thank you, honey.” I raise my hand and stroke her head with my knuckles. “You should eat properly from now on.”

  Our glances meet and her jaw drops open. “You think?”

  “I know.”

  “That’s…”

  “That’s the reason for joy, Neve.”

  “You are not angry with me?”

  “A bit, but that’s what mothers do, right? They should be a bit angry in such moments?”

  “You’re always so eccentric, you know.” Neve kisses my cheek. “Thanks, Mom.” She walks off.

  I feed my baby boy and help Neve tidy up. Then we sit in the living room and wait.

  “He will kill him,” Neve squeaks.

  “He promised, Neve. Trust me. There’ll be bruises and broken noses, that’s all.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Chapter 14

  Declan

  I like it when I’m fighting with bare fists. No, I love it. I love the adrenaline circling in my veins and the burning pain from the skin peeling off my knuckles.

  I love the fact that I just broke the motherfucker’s nose.

  Brad’s blood splatters over the grass and shines like rubies.

  “You should work out more, Brad,” I say. “You want to take a young wife, after all.”

  “I can manage,” he rasps.

  I sweep my arm and punch him in the face again. He steps back and spits out a tooth. No big deal. It will grow back in two, three days. Why not knock out all his teeth?

  “You’re clumsy,” I growl.

  It pisses me off that he takes every punch and barely punches me back. That’s no exercise and we’re here to exercise, right?

  “I would die for her if that was needed,” Brad says, his voice solemn.

  I freeze for a moment.

  We’re standing opposite each other, the sounds of our heavy breaths filling the night’s air. Streaks of cold fog wreath the tree trunks that guard the training ground. An ominous black cloud obscures the silver disc of the moon. It’s dark until the cloud drifts away. The silver light illuminates the high wall back again. Frost glitters on the grass.

  “She is too young,” I yell.

  “I know.” Guilt seeps through Brad’s words. He drops his head, his frame oozing a feeling of being defeated. After a moment, his conflicted eyes meet mine. “Neve will never cry in life, brother. She’ll always be happy. I give you my word.”

  I know he’s a man of his word. I know she’ll be safe with him. I know he’ll make a spoiled little princess out of her. Each time he says her name the love for her coats his voice.

  “If I as much as see one tear on her face, you are dead,” I say.

  I am a man of my word too.

  Brad grins at me as his hand rises. I grab it and shake it.

  “Prez,” Jax says behind me, his voice sounding both alarmed and excited.

  I turn around. “What?”

  Jax puts his hand on the back of his head. “There’re four… scumbags at the gate.”

  “And they’re not dead yet?” I growl.

  Jax takes a deep breath, a grin crossing his face. “They’re asking for asylum. A wolf is with them.”

  “A wolf?” I ask. I’m fucking intrigued. “A shifter?”

  “A shifter.” Jax nods. “A female shifter. Ross’ age.”

  I haven’t heard of shifters for fifty years. I thought they were an extinct species. We never crossed our paths—they lived on the outskirts of the world, minding their own business.

  We kill werewolves—they’re dark cursed creatures, thirsty for human flesh. In fact, we killed a werewolf thirty years ago and since then I haven’t seen any of them.

  My inner hunter can sense a werewolf but can’t sense a shifter. They are no threat to the human race, but the Order can’t see the difference.

  If there’s a shifter with the scumbags then either this is a trap or the beginning of a new era.

  “They’re unarmed,” Jax says with humour, which is fucking weird, “and covered in heather dust.”

  “To the office,” I growl. “And bring our guests.”

  The new era has just begun.

  The heather dust is the sign of peace and submission. It slows down the hunters and dulls their senses. The scumbags are vulnerable, at our mercy.

  I pick up my cut and put it on. I pull forward as Brad walks beside me, slipping into his cut. Blood trickles down from his nose.

  “Something is coming,” he says.

  “Yep, I think the final battle is coming.”

  We cross the garden and pick up the pace. As I enter the office, Hugh’s dark stormy eyes lock on mine. A flutter goes through my chest.
I am the president. I have to make good decisions in the dark times that have come.

  I take my seat and one of the scumbags walks in. I can’t help grinning. It’s a woman with brown eyes and black hair that falls to her shoulder. Three more women enter the office, and they look like her daughters.

  “Fucking hell,” I mutter. “Four chicks?”

  My boys grumble and the women frown at us.

  Another woman walks in. She’s very young. Yes, Ross’ age. Her face is strangely familiar to me. She has amber eyes and long blonde hair.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I growl as I glance at her.

  I fucking know her. I must have met her or something.

  “I’m Coyote’s daughter,” the girl says.

  “Coyote’s?” I scratch my head. “I know one man called Coyote, but he’s a human.”

  The girl nods. “Yes, you know my dad. And he’s not a human. He’s a wolf.” Her eyes flicker with yellow. “My mom and he say their hello.” She flashes me a genuine smile.

  Motherfucker. We got drunk together, fought with drunken humans, partied and visited casinos. He never said a thing. He must have known who I was from the very beginning.

  A fucking wolf. I can’t believe it.

  The girl moves closer to Ross like she’s seeking shelter and fucking hell, my son’s eyes flicker with yellow too.

  “Alright,” I say. “Who’s gonna speak?” I thrust my chin out towards the oldest of the four huntresses. “You?”

  She nods and drops into a chair. “There’re rumours.” Her voice is a bit raspy but melodious. “The rumours say you’ve found a Stoyanov.”

  Ice fills my veins, but I flash the bitch the most beguiling of my smiles. “Never heard that name.”

  The woman flashes me a mysterious smile. “We came through the rift to support the Stoyanovs.”

  Hugh’s eyes widen and something in his glance causes my heart to beat faster.

  “I’m Carina,” the woman continues. “I’m a huntress’ daughter. My father is a male Mora. My queen Alena Marinka Stoyanov wants to support you.”

  I feel like ice has layered my heart. “Who are you?”

  “I’m your ally,” Carina says.

  “Really?” I say.

  “Ask Yeva,” Carina says. “She’s one of us.”

  There’s silence as crisp as the air in the mountains. Something is wrong. Something is very right.

  “I’ve been infiltrating the Order’s headquarters for ten years,” Carina says. “I know every weakness of their citadel. We have two of our people inside it, waiting for your orders.”

  “Who are you?” I repeat.

  “Your friend,” Carina says. “That’s all I can tell you.”

  “Where are you from?” Something squeezes my heart like an icy hand.

  “Prez,” Carina says. “That doesn’t matter. Our goal matters.”

  I nod.

  A wolf is with them. They never made friends with the hunters, neither with the scumbags nor with the rebels.

  “Alastar, show the ladies their rooms,” I say.

  I finish church with a strike of the gavel and walk out of the office. I need fresh air and solitude, but Yeva appears beside me.

  “You want something?” I growl.

  I tolerate that bitch, but chills go down my spine each time I see her. She makes my granddad happy and he keeps her in check. One false movement and she’s dead.

  “I want to go with you,” she says.

  “Where?”

  “To the Order’s citadel.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Carina’s people will create diversion and let us in.” She grips my arm and hums. “So much blood waiting to be spilled.”

  Alright. It seems like I’m gonna be the first president that will allow women to fight.

  I know Yeva is a skilled killer.

  Somehow, I know Carina and the others are good warriors that want to stand by our side.

  It’s time to change the world.

  “Zorica has fighting skills ingrained in her genome,” Yeva says. “Her great great grandfather was a warrior, one of you. A powerful hunter. Tristan Stoyanov.”

  “No fucking way. She’s so delicate. So peace-loving.”

  My wife is just… my little wife. I can’t imagine her holding a sword.

  “Your wife could surprise you if you let her,” Yeva says.

  The name she said to me bangs against my brain. Yep, I’ve always preferred practice to theory. I dig around in my memory, searching for knowledge, as Yeva’s smirk accompanies my mental effort.

  I heard of Tristan Stoyanov, but that’s not possible.

  “Tristan Stoyanov founded the Order,” I say.

  Yeva nods. “He did.”

  “That was over a thousand years ago.”

  Yeva sighs and says nothing.

  Tristan Stoyanov was all honour and courage. When he ruled the Order, there was justice in the world. He disappeared in the mists of time and nobody knows what happened to him. The Order started heading in the wrong direction after his mysterious disappearance.

  “Love,” Yeva says. “Love ruins everything.” She strokes my arm with her hand in a motherly gesture. “And rebuilds everything.”

  “Who are you, people?”

  “Declan, you know who we are.”

  I’m not sure whether I even want to know. That knowledge could turn my world upside down. “You’ll be my advisor, woman.” Emitting these words, I feel like a pussy.

  “I’ll be your friend, Declan. Zorica will be your supporter and advisor.”

  The wisdom flowing from her to me is almost tangible. For a moment, I sense something good in her. No, I don’t. Her darkness is ruthless and cold. All-pervasive.

  Yeva bursts into laughter.

  Epilogue

  Yeva

  The others join us. The wolf, Zorica and Neve have made the rift stable enough for them to emerge from it. I feel deliriously happy. And bloodthirsty. We set off to smash the Order. I kill; I drink blood, I enjoy every moment of the battle. I haven’t been in battle for a long time.

  My Nadia spills as much blood as I do.

  Alena dances with her swords separating heads from necks.

  Zorica dances with her deadly bow releasing deadly arrows.

  My dark soul beams at my brave girls.

  My dark soul chants when my Neve kills the leader of the Order. I knew she’d be the one.

  Hugh doesn’t want me to leave after it’s all done.

  He takes me out for a walk along the river.

  “Stay, Yeva,” Hugh says.

  “Everything is as it should be. I should join the others and leave.”

  “Stay. My bed is comfortable. My love for you is strong.”

  “I don’t want to love a man, darling.”

  “Why not?”

  “Men die.” Bitterness layers my evil heart.

  “I’m still in good shape. We could have a long life together.” Hugh’s hand searches for mine.

  “I don’t want to live. I want to drain blood. Your blood, darling.”

  “I want to twist your neck sometimes, you know.” A grin crosses his face, taking at least ten years off his handsome face. “We’re perfect for each other.”

  “I don’t want to struggle every night.”

  “We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

  I stop walking as my eyes roam over the navy expanse of the night sky. I can see beyond the sky—I can see black holes and constellations. Stars being born, stars dying. “Fine. I’ll stay with you. The others can manage without me. They have a nice place to live and their duties to fulfil. They’re busy and safe.” I twirl around him as excitement fills my veins. “Did I tell you about Biserka?”

  “A few sentences.”

  “She was so stiff. So hopelessly in love with him.”

  Hugh pulls me to him and wraps his arms around my chest. “I love your stories.”

  “You do?”
/>   He kisses me on the top of my head. “I love you.”

  Warmth washes over my heart. Is this love? I haven’t loved a man for a very long time.

  I feel at peace when I’m with Hugh. Is this love?

  I think it is.

  “So,” I start as my back moulds to his chest perfectly, “Biserka and I went to a ball. We were wearing beautiful gowns and wigs.” I wiggle out of Hugh’s embrace and then cling to his arm as memories float through my head.

  Alena was such a beautiful miracle. But my baby girl? She was everything to me. My husband was everything to me too.

  Bastard. He just decided to die.

  The bitch who loved chopping off my hand? She deserved to die in pain. I chopped off her fingers. I chopped off her toes. Alena’s husband chopped off her head after Alena had ripped her heart out.

  I tell Hugh the story of my life.

  It all started when he kissed her.

  There was pain and tears and death. There was love stronger than anything. A fall. A rise. A strong family, stronger than greed, evil, and war. Yes, my family was stronger than death.

  “You’re all just a translucent reflection, Hugh.”

  “If you’re saying so.”

  He thinks I’m crazy, but maybe it’s for the better.

  “Fine,” I say. “It’s only a silly story.”

  “Love you.”

  I snort. Maybe I should focus on practical things. “Colin needs a wife.”

  Hugh shakes his head. “He is a lost case.” Worry is written all over his face.

  “I am a lost case, but look where I am. Colin just needs some help. Da?”

  “Da, Yeva.”

  Neve

  My husband smirks at me, the thick scar on his cheek wavering. “Any other orders, Queen?”

  I killed the motherfucker so I was to take over from him. It was as simple as that—the law established in the very beginning when the Order was created.

  I take a shaky breath. “We need to hunt down those who don’t want to support us. We’ll ask them again. They either join us or die.” I shrink into myself as those words come out of my mouth.

  We’re seated in the great hall of the citadel we’ve taken over, the light emitted from three crystal chandeliers creating a misty atmosphere. Stars twinkle outside the arched windows as the aromatic hot breeze of the summer night drifts inside the room. Cicadas sing in the distance.