Game of Vampires: A Reverse Harem Serial (Part Two)

by Rosette Bolter

  Harland leaned back in his chair. “Fascinating. Tell me more.”

  Theresa sighed. “I guess you have to be friends with someone first before there’s any romantic connotation. But that’s me. If I’m going to marry someone, then the most important thing is the relationship I have with them. Not whether they want children. Or … some pre-planned day to day existence…”

  “You’re rebellious, I get it,” Harland said. “You’re used to making demands of other people.”

  “No, it’s not that at all. Just … just forget about me for a moment. When you think about whoever you want to set up shop with, is their willingness to have children your number one priority? Is that really what you’re looking for?”

  Harland smiled. “Not every married couple has to love one another. I completely separate the quest for love from the quest for a life partner. From a life partner we expect certain things. We expect them to service our needs. That’s what comes first. As immortal as I may be, I cannot expand my rule unless I have children that I can raise to be loyal to my family name. To be loyal to the north at all costs. You can’t get that from anyone else. They have to be bound by blood.”

  “And what then of the quest for love? Is that not important to you?”

  Harland gave a soft laugh. “The infectious excitement of two strangers who meet and find their personalities compatible, is indeed a hit of euphoria for our brains. But I’d be lying to you if I said that there was anyone out there tonight, whom I had had fallen in love with, and not in the end taken their lives…”

  CHAPTER SIX

  He was drowning her. Hypnotically seeping into her mind and making her forget what she was supposed to be doing. Of course she didn’t like Harland. His view of the world wasn’t something they shared. But Theresa did find him interesting. She could see this conversation going on forever.

  She put down her wine chalice, now empty and Harland seized it up. He finished what was in his own and then returned to the bar for refills. Theresa adjusted herself in the chair. She thought about poor old Lord Fane still presumably huddled over Princess Emberlynn, surrounded by his forest of yellow and green –

  “Harland,” Theresa said. “May I ask you something? I need your help.”

  He returned to the table with her wine and his blood. “Of course you may ask.”

  “I need you to put me in touch with a necromancer. If that’s something you’re able to do.”

  Harland frowned. “A necromancer? I’m not really…”

  “Something’s happened. Something I can’t explain. But it’s what I need. More than anything right now. If you can’t help me, then I really have to be on my way.”

  Disappointment flashed in Harland’s eyes. “Is this a test?”

  “No, it’s not a test. I promise you. Just be honest with me.”

  “I’m afraid, I … Necromancers are extremely elusive. If one turns up he usually has to move as a bounty will be placed on him. No one likes them. Unless they’re trying to use black magic to…”

  Harland put his fingers together.

  “What?” Theresa asked.

  “It’s just such an odd request. Have you asked Lord Fane? Surely he would have a better idea –”

  “Can you help me or not?”

  Harland stared at her. “Perhaps. What is the information worth to you?”

  Theresa shrugged. “A lot.”

  “They have bedrooms upstairs on the third floor. I’ve been in there. The rooms are large, soundproof, with the softest sheets and mattresses –”

  “Is this some kind of a joke to you?”

  “No,” Harland said. “You don’t want to talk about the future. Fine. You don’t want to tell me why you need a necromancer. Fine. But you have your needs and I have mine. The only question is how much is the information worth to you?”

  Theresa glared at him. Her nostrils flared. Her teeth locked together.

  There was only one more thing left to ask.

  “Do you know where I can find a necromancer? Yes or no.”

  Harland nodded.

  “Alright,” Theresa said standing up from the table. “Let’s get this over with then.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  If she had a choice she wouldn’t have. Oh sure. Lying on the shabby excuse for a bed with a paper-thin blanket, Theresa may have thought about a situation like this. Unlike Lafayette, the air Harland inhaled and exhaled was searing with heat. She didn’t even have to touch him to feel it around her. He was indeed gorgeous to look at. Even more gorgeous to be looked at by. She knew nothing of his heart, his soul. And only his intellect on a superficial level. This was exactly how she might have imagined him. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t a lifelong thing. But as of right now, Theresa was going to force herself to enjoy it. The alternative was too obscene to grasp.

  The room was large like he said it would be. Blue carpets and red coverings. The bedposts were pure gold.

  Theresa walked to the window where the curtain was pulled back a tad. The moon was still closed off. People in the street carried torches and glowsticks to bring light into their travels.

  The night was still young. Theresa couldn’t see the full scope of what it had planned for her.

  Harland’s fingers pressed into her bare shoulders. She felt his chest against her back. He’d already taken his shirt off.

  He leaned forward slowly and began kissing the back of her neck.

  Theresa allowed him to do so. Each kiss caused a tingle. A small wave of sensation. And she knew where she was in her mind with it. All this unnecessary build up. She was already prepared. Already ferocious. Ready for anything.

  She turned around, her hands touching his face like it was some type of prize.

  His eyes glowed back at her, amused.

  She lifted the arches of her feet till she was on her toes, her lips reaching up to him. He closed his eyes and moved his mouth towards her. They kissed.

  There was so much.

  So much involuntary emotion.

  Her body’s natural assimilation, forming ideas and deductions about this vampire in front of her, that simply weren’t true. She felt it. She felt the love gurgling out of her throat. And so she kissed him harder. And he kissed her harder. She heard his heart beating in his chest like a ball of led smashing against a wall. And her nipples went dead-eyed erect.

  She shoved her hand down by his crotch.

  Harland opened his eyes, pulling away from her. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “You must really want a necromancer.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Theresa said. Then nodded behind him. “Get on the bed.”

  Harland raised his eyebrows, turning. Theresa gave him a gentle push.

  He staggered backwards, undoing his belt buckle, kicking off his shoes.

  Theresa walked towards him. “Get on the bed.”

  “Yes, your Majesty,” Harland said climbing into the middle of the bed in his briefs.

  “Don’t call me that,” Theresa said.

  “I’ll call you whatever you want.”

  “My name is Theresa. Okay?”

  “Princess Theresa then?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, Theresa,” he mused. “It’s getting lonely here all by myself.”

  “I have terms,” Theresa said.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t care about your Romeo-Reputations. This isn’t going to be an all-night fuck-a-thon.”

  “Okay.”

  “Fifteen minutes. That’s all.”

  “Alright.”

  “No anal, no biting, no scratching, no hurting me, no pulling my hair –”

  “What if I pulled it just a little?” Harland asked.

  “I said, no –”

  He reached over and yanked a lock of her hair. “Like that?”

  She punched his hands away. “It’s my fucking hair. Okay? Do you want me going elsewhere?”

  “No, no, no,” Harland said quickly. “I was only teasing.”

  �
��Okay…” She felt her fingers trembling. Tried to hide them.

  Harland moved to the edge of the bed. He put his hand to her waist.

  “I’ll be gentle with you,” he said. “Because it’s your first time and all. I know you must be scared –”

  Theresa’s eyes widen with anger. She unclipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor, exposing her body to him.

  Harland’s mouth dropped.

  “No more talking,” Theresa said and jumped on him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Hard at work they were. Hands squeezing thistles. Middle finger and thumb finding the pressure points inside the stem. Through sweat. And hunger. And cold. Blood dripped from flowers across hands into buckets. Iron clad guards walked through the rows and columns. Nurse Chantley was just one of them. Any other day or week or year she would have been here. Slaving away. Minute after minute. Hour after hour. Into the depths of night the nurses strained themselves. And occasionally one or two might be looking up. And noticing. Nurse Chantley was not with them…

  Not in a million years would Theresa have seen herself here. Looking down into his tender green eyes. His deliciously golden hair. The night walker afflicted by his perversions of nature. Afflicted by his passion for her body. And he was underneath her. Doing as she wanted. As she desired. Now that she was free.

  He held her sides firmly as she thrust down on him. No pain. No awkwardness. Only the fresh and the new. The burning sensations. That carried them forward.

  And then without warning he seized her wrists and forced her off him. He planted her hands behind her head and spread her legs apart, nailing her into the bed with vice precision.

  Theresa’s senses were jolted. Even though the room was well lit, Harland’s face was becoming difficult to recognize. He lent down, his head buried beside hers as his cock rubbed and rammed and twisted inside her. And it was as though they weren’t alone in the room together. She saw him, Harland. But she also saw Lafayette. And Moldark.

  And Lord Fane.

  Theresa opened her eyes and exhaled. She could feel the penis starting prickle and spasm. Before slowing again.

  “No,” Theresa whispered. “Hurry.”

  “But I’ll –”

  “Just do it!”

  He smashed her into the bed and her head went back violently, bouncing off the wall. Dazed, scattered, writhing. The thick liquid seeped inside of her and Harland came to a stop.

  Their eyes met.

  “That was … interesting,” she said.

  He shut his eyes momentarily, then climbed off her. He handed her a cloth to clean up.

  She got busy with it.

  Harland got off the bed and began getting dressed.

  “Is there a bathroom through there?” Theresa asked, motioning to the other side of the room.

  Harland looked up. “Think so.”

  She stood up, gathered her clothes and went towards the sliding door. She pulled it back and closed it behind her. Her fingers still shaking. Her stomach still anxious. She couldn’t explain what had come over her.

  And wasn’t sure yet whether she liked it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Harland was sitting on the bed with a cigarette when Theresa exited the bathroom. She’d had a quick hot shower and dried herself off. “It’s funny in a way,” she said, “how once you’re clean any bit of dirt you go on to pick up becomes a major issue. But if you haven’t showered or bathed in weeks it’s almost like you don’t notice the dirt at all.”

  “I’m confused,” Harland said. “Is that a question you’re asking me? Something you heard from one of your servants?”

  “No, I was talking about…” Theresa trailed off.

  “In truth that was nothing,” Harland said. “I went easy on you because it was your first time.”

  “You don’t need to sell yourself anymore,” Theresa replied. “I was there, remember.”

  Harland nodded. He stood up.

  Dropped the smoke on the floor and stepped on it. “Guess you’ll be wanting to know where the necromancer is then.”

  “That was the deal.”

  Harland chuckled. “Would it really surprise you that much if I turned around and said I was lying and can’t help you?”

  Theresa took a step towards him. “I may be human. But I am still a princess. Do not underestimate me.”

  “I don’t. But the thing is I’m about to send you off to make right with someone else.”

  “Come again?”

  “There’s only one necromancer I know of that is alive and within a day’s ride.”

  “I need him closer than that.”

  “There are means of transportation that will get you there faster. That’s not the point. The point is that the only reason I know about this necromancer is because he’s been captured and imprisoned. And the security on him is impenetrable.”

  “But you can get me in, right? You can set him free.”

  Harland stared at her. “No.”

  “No?”

  “I’m afraid you have to go further east. All the way to the coastline. In other words, outside my jurisdiction.”

  Theresa moved in closer. “And whose jurisdiction are we talking about then?”

  “The Davorin Twins.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Cyprian and Seraphine Davorin. The Vampires of East House. Theresa had almost forgotten about them. How convenient to run into Harland by his lonesome on her return to the harem. It wasn’t just about the twenty or fifteen or thirty minutes wasted. It was about the darkness inside her he’d brought out. And what for? What gave him the right to –

  “Don’t be mad,” Harland said, trying to assure her. “You will want my advice on this anyway.”

  “Oh really?”

  “You see the thing is, they won’t let the necromancer go. You could be Princess of … well, you are the Princess of the Blood Garden. You would think that would count for something. Unfortunately, in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t.”

  “And why is that?” Theresa demanded.

  “As Princess, your powers are limited only to the now. This current year. Or decade. Or century. And being mortal, you could go at any time. That is just the natural order of things.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “Look at it this way. Do wrong by you, and the worst case scenario is that we stop getting our blood flower supply. Or you set the likes of Lord Fane and other high ranking individuals against us due to your connections. It is all still temporary. A vampire can be killed, yes, but it is far more likely for us to continue to rise and see more days. They all go by. Endlessly.”

  “I get it. We’re short term, you’re long term.”

  “As is the necromancer.”

  “He can’t be killed either?”

  “The ramifications of such a person being on the loose can be dire. He has the power to inflict the worst kinds of magic on others. We’re talking the level below the lowest level. It’s underground. Which is their usual habitat. Long story short, you won’t be able to talk the Davorin twins into letting him go. The only thing you can do is get yourself situated inside their castle. And then when they’re incapacitated find your way down to the dungeon where they’re likely to be keeping him…”

  “What else?”

  “What?”

  “How else can you help me?”

  Harland shrugged. “Might I ask what you need a necromancer for. Maybe there’s an easier solution to your problems.”

  “I wish there was.”

  “Have you even thought about what you’re going to say to this necromancer to get them to do whatever it is you want?”

  Theresa blinked. “It wasn’t my plan. I didn’t come up with it.”

  “Well, who did?”

  She shook her head. “Lord Fane.”

  “You’re searching on his behalf?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Well, perhaps that will be enough for the necromancer to listen to you. I guess
your next move is to reach out to Cyprian and Seraphine.”

  “Where are they?”

  “At Lord Fane’s keep.”

  “Without him?”

  “How do you know he’s not there?”

  “He isn’t.”

  Harland shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. That’s where they’re supposed to be.”

  “I guess I better be going then.”

  She moved by him and went to the door.

  He stopped her before she could open it.

  “If you wish to see me again after tonight,” Harland said, “You should pay a visit to my castle in the north. I’ll be there. Waiting for you.”

  Theresa’s eyes grew smaller. She held her head back high. “Don’t hold your breath.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The driver and his carriage had found their way back to the harem. Theresa exited surprised to see him there, resting against the side of it, as though he was waiting for her as before.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked walking over.

  “I ran into the Lord of the West,” the driver explained. “He said I could find you here.”

  “Lafayette?” Theresa queried. “Where did you see him?”

  “I just saw him loitering in the Merchant’s District. He seemed busy. Like he was in the middle of something. Or on his way somewhere, I don’t know. Shall we go and try to find him?”

  “No,” Theresa said. “I need you to take me back to Lord Fane’s keep.”

  “Of course. Here, let me get the door for you…”

  Soon enough, Theresa was in the back of the carriage. It bustled along the street, passing a few drunks along the way, one of them throwing their boot at the carriage. Theresa put her head out the window, glaring at him angrily. Of course she wasn’t the Princess, and she knew why one would be angry towards Emberlynn… But at the same time she couldn’t help but take it personally. Supposing for one instance that she was not pretending. That she really was of the royal blood. Would this violence not also be directed to her? And in such instance, what would be an appropriate response? Surely, not to do nothing.