Chapter One
Sixteen Years Later
It wasn’t until his fourteenth birthday that Connor realized he’d been born into Hell. Before that, he’d known his world sucked big time. He’d known his mother suffered to keep them safe and fed. She tried hard to shield them from most of what happened to her, but he had a pretty good idea. The fact that they were barely given enough blood to keep them alive was no secret. They were slaves. The humans didn’t call it slavery. They claimed to be protecting vampires from the dangers of the world. Humans called this place a reservation, but it was a prison. The humans believed they were oh so fucking kind because they could have just killed all the vampires. Vampires were expected to show their gratitude in the most disgusting ways. Life pretty much sucked.
Connor got why humans hated his kind so much. A lot of humans had been killed by turned vampires. In the beginning, humans hadn’t known what to do with the vampires who weren’t trying to kill them. He’d been born in a dirty cell at a local jail. That’s where they’d all been kept at first, jails and prisons. At least, that’s where the ones who’d gone to the government for help had been kept until it was decided what to do with them. The smart ones had probably stayed hidden. Connor had spent the first five months of his life in a jail cell. He supposed the reservations were an improvement in some ways, but he’d always hated it there.
Still, he’d had no idea how bad his life could really suck. Now that he was old enough to earn his keep, as the humans put it, he knew the truth. Just shy of sixteen years old, he knew all about Hell.
His fangs ached, and his gut twisted with hunger as he stared at the human woman who had paid for his services. In exchange for the use of his body, she had paid a hefty sum to the owners of this prison and promised to provide him with blood—blood he’d only receive after she was satisfied he’d met his end of the bargain.
The humans running this special corner of Hell called it a fair trade. Vampires were allowed to find willing donors this way. While the humans insisted it wasn’t a prison, no vampires could leave. None could refuse to service the patrons after they reached an age when they were deemed useful. For some, like Connor’s friend, Simon, that had come earlier. Simon had golden hair, innocent blue eyes, and an angelic face. Connor’s mother had been the one to tell them that. She’d once confided that she’d been tempted to scar Simon’s face to protect him. Connor often wondered if Simon wished she had.
Connor was lucky; he’d been an awkward looking kid. With his light brown hair and eyes, he had nothing special to offer. It wasn’t until just over a year ago, when he began to fill out, that he started to attract the interest of the bastard humans who owned him. His mother had once told him it was the defiant look in his eyes that attracted the patrons. They wanted to break him, and at least twice a week, someone tried breaking him. The only good thing was his mother no longer had to work as hard. Had he known the extent of what she was forced to do, he might have volunteered earlier.
“Turn around and get on your knees,” purred the dark-haired human. She was one of his regulars, and he supposed many would consider her attractive. Of course, her appearance didn’t matter for what she wanted from him most days. Sex wasn’t usually what she came to him for.
He did as she instructed and immediately felt the whip slice through the shirt on his back. The bitch never let him take his shirt off first. Later that day, he’d have to get someone to pick the bits of fabric out of his shredded flesh before he healed over them. It was much worse if they had to cut him open to get the fabric out. He cringed with each strike but said nothing. She only wanted him to speak when she ordered him to.
“Such a good little demon,” she crooned. “Should I give you blood today? Would you like that?”
“Yes,” he hissed as another strike rained down on his back.
“Then you’d better please me really well. I hear you’ve been misbehaving and I don’t have to give you a bag of blood if you don’t give me my money’s worth.”
The owner was a bastard, so Connor didn’t doubt she was telling the truth. Connor knew why he was on the owner’s shit list again. One of the bigger patrons had developed a sick obsession with one of Connor’s friends, and Connor had refused to tell the bastard where Simon was hiding when he’d come to call. Since Simon had already been used twice that day, Connor couldn’t stand the thought of his friend going out again. It had been worth the beating. He dreamed of the day he could rip that bastard’s throat out. That fantasy kept his mind distracted while the beating continued for what seemed like an eternity.
He could smell her arousal, making him curse his heightened sense of smell. The realization that she’d want more from him today made stomach turn. Most days, it was just the beating.
His hatred for humans burned strong as she made him beg for the blood he’d earned. Only after he’d pleasured her with his mouth, did she finally give him the bag of blood.
“Such an obedient little demon today,” she cooed as she lounged on the plush sofa. The rooms where they met with clients were all richly decorated and kept at a comfortable temperature. None were carpeted because it was too hard to remove the blood stains. The furniture was frequently replaced, but they never gave the used furniture to the vampires. They’d rather burn it than give the vampires any comfort.
Staggering home, he hoped Shelby or Norah were there to clean his back. Carla was too squeamish, and he hated having one of the guys do it. No matter how tough he tried to be, it hurt like a bitch, a fact he couldn’t hide. The guys couldn’t resist making fun of him, and his mother felt guilty if she had to clean him up.
“Ah, fuck!” Shelby spat out when he stumbled in. Her face was bruised, meaning she’d just returned from her own assignment. With her mocha skin, the bruises didn’t stand out as much, which sucked even more. Connor’s patrons weren’t allowed to mark his face, in case he was requested later that day. While the bruises would be gone in a day, the owners didn’t want to risk upsetting paying customers. Shelby wasn’t so lucky. She attracted customers for some of the same reasons Connor did; she was mouthy and bold. She was also considered an exotic beauty. Her mocha skin contrasted in a striking way with her green eyes. She kept her reddish brown hair short, which accentuated her delicate features. “Norah!” she called out. “Connor got his ass kicked by some bitch again!”
“How’d you know it was a woman?” he asked with a smile. He knew how, but Shelby’s answers always amused him.
“I can smell bitch on your breath,” she replied with a shrug. “Careful, Con, you are what you eat.”
“Ew, Shelby!” Norah said as she hurried out with their meager first aid supplies. “That was crude, even for you.”
The banter ended, and they went to work on his back. They’d been doing it at least once a week for the last year, so they had a system. Unlike the rest of them, Norah didn’t get much attention from the patrons. She was attractive, in Connor’s opinion, but nothing stood out with her. She had brown hair, brown eyes, and very nondescript features. She was also sweet-tempered and quiet. It’s not that she didn’t get requests; it was just pretty rare. Most of Norah’s customers were just looking for sex, nothing weird. She was the luckiest in their little family.
“Some days, I just want to put a stake through my own heart,” he muttered.
“Not me,” Shelby scoffed as she tweezed the last of the fabric out of his back. “I wanna put stakes through the hearts of the people who do this sick shit to us. Oh wait, they don’t have hearts.”
That made Connor smile. Shelby had been a fighter as long as he could remember. “We’ll get our chance soon enough,” he assured her. Connor still wasn’t sure how he’d earned the title of leader in their little misfit band of blood whores. It had happened when they were still small children, and for some reason, the others had looked to him for help.
“We need to stop talking like this,” Norah said quietly.
Connor went into the bedroom to put on a clean shirt before anyone else�
��especially his mom—could see him.
The fact that his home was a total shit-hole always stood out more after he worked. Compared to the luxurious homes where they entertained humans, the vampire homes were slums. Theirs had two bedrooms, a tiny bathroom, and a flat top roof that leaked. While they had electricity, it was monitored, and they only got so much. The water ran, but hot water was a luxury. Seven of them shared the tiny home with its chipped paint and exposed insulation.
“Where did my mom go?” Even as he asked, he knew the answer. They were old enough to get enough blood to keep her fed now. She didn’t have to work for blood, but the bastard in charge was obsessed with her. He’d never let her go. Even if he weren’t obsessed, one of his biggest clients was.
“They took her,” Simon answered from the front door.
“Bastards,” Connor spit out. “You okay, Si?”
The haunted look in Simon’s eyes said he wasn’t okay and never would be, but he gave a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Once the fun one in the group, Simon had become embittered in the last couple years. Not that Connor could blame him. Simon had been the first to work for his keep, and the only one who refused to talk about what happened when he left their home. His mother also didn’t talk about it, but that was to protect them. Si’s reasons were different.
The door opened slowly, and his mother walked into the room. She was a slight woman with delicate features. Her silky brown hair was kept short, like most of the women. The Moon virus would keep her looking young forever. Eloise had lived a hard life in the sixteen years since she’d contracted the Moon virus. Before that, her only concern had been finding a way to raise her baby alone after her husband left her. Aside from her own baby, she’d managed to collect five other children to care for. Their mothers had either been killed or gone insane after the change. Children with no protection were as good as dead. The lucky ones were torn apart by crazed turned vampires. The unlucky ones were used in medical experiments or left to die.
“Hey kids,” she greeted with a strained smile. Over the years it got harder for her to pretend things were okay. Connor saw her hope shrivel and die. She was their biggest inspiration for the training. “Where are the others?”
Simon’s eyes softened at the sight of the woman who had raised him and tried her best to protect him. “Jack and Carla went out. They should be back soon.”
She nodded, and Connor could tell her mind was elsewhere. He wanted to ask her if everything was okay, but it was a stupid question. Things weren’t okay, but that day things seemed worse than usual.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Connor asked hesitantly.
Pulling down the paper shades, she glanced around nervously. “I need all of you to get away from here. Find Jack and Carla, and then you need to find another place to stay. If anyone tries to connect you to me, tell them they’re mistaken. Deny knowing me.”
“What the hell is going on?” Connor demanded.
When she turned to him, her eyes held something close to panic. “I killed him,” she barely whispered.
“Killed who?” Connor asked. “Was it the bastard running this place? Did he hurt you again?”
She shook her head. “I killed the one who hurt Simon today.”
All the color drained from Simon’s face. His mouth hung open, but no sound came out.
Finally, Simon spoke in a strained voice. “No. What have you done? We can tell them it was me. They’ll think it was me. I’ll go now.”
She caught his arm. “No, Simon. I made sure someone saw me do it.”
“Why?” Simon asked desperately.
“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t watch them torture my children.” Her voice held one thing Connor had never expected to hear, defeat. His mother had finally reached the end of her rope. This wasn’t fighting back, this was giving up. She knew she wouldn’t survive, and she didn’t care anymore.
Before any of them could respond, Jack and Carla raced into the house. “Men are coming to kill us,” Jack stated calmly.
All eyes turned to Connor, waiting for him to tell them what to do. Connor took a deep breath. “It’s time.” Speaking the words made him feel both trepidation and relief. By the end of the day, they would no longer be slaves. They would no longer be blood whores. By the end of the day, they would either be free or dead. He was almost giddy with anticipation.
No one asked for further direction, lifting the floor boards to reveal the weapons they’d made and the ones they’d stolen. Armed with crudely made bows, bags of wooden stakes, chains, and two guns with enough bullets to reload twice, they prepared to meet their destiny. A scruffy bunch of adolescent blood whores ready to take on the masses. Adrenaline coursed through Connor’s veins.
“No!” Eloise shouted. “They’ll kill you. Don’t go out there. Please, just let them take me.”
“No,” Connor said firmly. “This ends today.”
The front door was thrown open, and in swaggered the bastard human who made their lives hell. Flanked by two guards, he looked more than a little smug. “Now, Eloise,” he began with that arrogant drawl of his. “You know I’ve worked hard to protect you all these years, but I just can’t abide you killin’ one of my best customers.” Suddenly he froze, looking around the room. The guards at his sides tensed and started to draw their weapons.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Connor warned, his lips curling into a slow smile.
“Stupid blood brats,” the bastard sneered. “Put down those weapons, and I might not punish you as severely.”
Simon laughed. “Well now, ain’t that just magnanimous of y’all,” he said, mimicking the bastard’s drawl. “I’ve got a better idea. How about we kill every fucking human in this place and gorge ourselves on your blood?”
That was enough to spur the guards into action, but it was too late. Shelby and Jack had already moved around behind them. As the guards reached for their guns, stakes were thrust into their hearts from behind.
It was surprising how few guards there really were. Within an hour, Simon’s words were made a reality. The only survivors had fangs, and the vampires had all eaten better that day than they had in their entire lives. Every human scumbag who’d preyed on their kind was dead, and it was just the beginning.
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