Unleashing Vampires: A paranormal revenge novel (Unleashing Series Book 2)

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Unleashing Vampires: A paranormal revenge novel (Unleashing Series Book 2) Page 2

by C. J. Laurence


  “Care to share?”

  A mischievous twinkle spread through his dark eyes. “Not just yet, no. I don’t want to step on your toes with your new career.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and tried my best not to think too much into it.

  Chapter Four

  Lina

  Last night

  I drew a deep breath, raking the crisp night air into my lungs. It felt like an eternity since I was last topside.

  Tonight is my first night of freedom—our first night of freedom.

  My little sister, Arana, had bloomed into an unimaginable beauty in the time we’d been training as part of Lilith’s fearsome Lamia. Her thirst for blood and revenge fuelled her more than air itself.

  Arana and I had already agreed we would work independently up here. It would cause less suspicion overall and would also enable each of us to find our ‘groove’ without worrying on judgement. I tended to prefer the subtler ways whilst Arana seemed to prefer going all out raw and wild.

  We settled in our home town, a large town called Minster Arch. Not far from the city, it was the perfect ‘in between’ of quiet rural life and bustling city life.

  Our old house that we grew up in stood empty, slowly deteriorating into a sad state of sagging window frames, busted windows, and overgrown weeds. We both agreed we couldn’t bear to go back there. It was better left untouched.

  Instead, we found ourselves ‘renting’ a flat in a newly built apartment block on the other side of town. Arana had already found her first mark—some geeky IT guy who all but walked into his front door because he was too busy staring at us both.

  With Arana busy, I headed out to find my own target. Using my heightened sense of smell, I followed the distinct scent of cherries—the tell-tale sign of recently mated males.

  Our job was quite simple—find a man who was already involved with someone, seduce him, and if he cheats on his unsuspecting partner, kill him.

  Simple.

  We needed blood to survive, like regular vampires, and Lucifer needed souls. The poor woman being cheated on had unknowingly been saved a whole load of heartache, so it was a win for everyone involved.

  Well, except the guy of course.

  My nose led me to a crowded pub. The pungent stench of sweat, stale beer, smoke, and raging hormones made me want to vomit, but, just as Lilith had taught us, I focused on the cherries. It was important to attend only to the sweet, not the sour.

  I approached the bar, slipping in between a group of girls to my left, and an old guy to my right. The girls sneered at me and started whispering whilst giving me looks of disgust.

  I’m a firm believer in the old saying ‘if you’ve got it, flaunt it,’ so my choice of a figure hugging, knee length dress with a slit all the way up one thigh was bound to attract some attention.

  The old man the other side of me barely acknowledged my existence. The faintest tinge of cherries lingered on his clothes leading me to the conclusion his wife had either left him or died. Either way, he was of no interest to me.

  Across the bar however, a tall, fair-haired guy caught my eye. He reeked of cherries. A quick glance to his ring finger told me he wasn’t married but that didn’t mean he wasn’t committed to someone.

  Dark brown eyes met mine, twinkling with amusement. He tipped his glass at me in recognition of the fact he’d caught me looking at him.

  I smiled. The bartender then stepped in front of me, blocking my view of him. As I placed my order of Malibu and lemonade, the sickly-sweet scent of cherries became stronger.

  By the time I’d finished ordering my drink, the focus of my attention stood at my side, smiling like he’d just won the lottery. He’d nudged the old guy out of the way and squeezed himself in between us.

  “Chester,” he said, holding his hand out.

  “Lina,” I replied, shaking his hand. He had a proper man’s handshake. Shame he didn’t have a proper man’s manners when in a relationship.

  “I’ve not seen you around here before. Are you new to the area?”

  I smirked, thinking of the best way to answer his question. “I actually grew up here. I was here until I was ten. I moved away after that.”

  “Makes sense. I know for sure I’d have noticed you before now.”

  I laughed. “Cheesy, but I’ll let it go.”

  “So what brings you to The Black Iris on a Saturday night?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual—a little drink, a little dance, maybe a little love…”

  The bartender returned with my drink. Before he’d even told me the price, at which point I would have compelled him to believe I’d already paid, Chester flashed a twenty in his face, smiling at me as he did so.

  “Why thank you,” I said, grabbing a black straw from the pot on the bar and slipping it in my drink.

  I made a point of wrapping my tongue around it before I put it in my mouth. Just as I wanted, Chester couldn’t resist watching me, his eyes widening slightly and his own tongue darting out to lick his lips. I felt pretty confident in saying I already had this one hook, line, and sinker.

  “My pleasure,” he replied, taking his handful of change and stuffing it in his pocket. He motioned away from the bar and said, “Would you like to go somewhere a little quieter?”

  I glanced around, wondering where he could mean exactly. All of the tables around the dancefloor were taken, although that could be solved with some quick compulsion, and I knew for a fact the small terraced area out the back would be heaving with smokers and snogging couples.

  “Sure,” I replied. In less than a minute, I knocked my whole drink back, slammed the glass on the bar, grabbed Chester’s hand, and marched towards the exit. “No point in beating around the bush.”

  He set his drink down on a table we passed as I led him outside. “I like you,” he said, chuckling.

  You won’t so much in a minute.

  His long legs made sure he kept pace with my quick strides. I was desperate for this. I couldn’t believe that finally, I was getting the first draw and I would have a meal all to myself. The excitement almost sent me light-headed.

  I headed around the back of the building, thankful to see it was deserted. Leading him to the furthest corner, we were tucked away from the orange glow of the street lamps and any prying eyes.

  I stopped and threw him back against the wall. He grinned. I traced my right index finger down the buttons on his shirt, my nail growing to a sharp point at just the thought of blood already. His buttons popped off one by one under my finger. When I got to the end, I opened his shirt, baring his chest to me like a grand prize.

  “Nice,” I said, nodding as I trailed my hand from his pecs to the waistband of his jeans. “Somebody works out.”

  “Have to make sure the ladies want to come back,” he replied, chuckling.

  “Oh, I know I’d love to come back if I could.”

  Pressing myself against him, I ran both of my hands over his naked flesh. He was so soft, so smooth, and so supple…gah, he was like Galaxy chocolate all wrapped up in human skin.

  After I’d finished feeling his bare chest, I rubbed my hands over his broad shoulders and then wrapped them around the back of his head.

  As I brushed my fingers through his chestnut coloured hair, I dared to nibble on his earlobe.

  He shuddered underneath me. “Baby,” he whispered. “You can come back anytime.”

  I grinned and kissed his jawline, then left a slow trail of kisses all the way to the sweet spot of his jugular. I kissed his skin three more times, anaesthetising it.

  My canines lengthened into sharp points. The first time it happened, it hurt like hell but now it was merely a minor pain to gain access to great pleasure.

  I bit down into his neck. The second his taut skin gave way to my teeth, I almost groaned from the pleasure.

  Fresh, warm blood flowed over my tongue, basking me in the sweet taste of his life.

  In my minds eye, his life played out like a movie in reverse—the
most recent memories first, but the deeper the blood came from, the more historic his memories.

  He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tighter against him. He moaned, still blissfully unaware I was draining every last drop from his pathetic body.

  Humans are so weak but think they are so strong; it amuses us down in the lair, especially with alpha men like Chester who think women are here to do nothing but serve and please them.

  When his hold around my waist lessened, I knew he’d be feeling his life slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

  “Lina…” he whispered. “What are you doin’?”

  I sucked harder, desperate to finish this already.

  Finally, the last beat of his heart thudded through his ribcage. I stood back and caught the last flicker of life in his eyes before they glazed over with that familiar dead stare.

  Getting the dregs from all the guys in the lair meant we were well accustomed to when they were ‘empty.’

  Chester crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll. I grinned and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. That was a good meal.

  To pay homage to my worthy life giver, as we’d been taught, I stroked my right palm over the purple rose tattoo on my left arm.

  The ink shimmered with a silver glow and as I reached the edges of it near my wrist, a warm fuzz buzzed through my hand as a physical rose was pulled from the ink.

  I placed the rose on his bare chest and blew him a kiss. Turning my back on the now useless bag of bones, I headed back inside the club for meal number two.

  Chapter Five

  Arana

  Last night

  It’s strange how life can change in the matter of a minute or more.

  Have you ever wondered this? How one minute you can be driving down the road, thinking what to cook for tea, or what would have happened in the latest TV show episode you recorded last night, then boom! out of nowhere, something hits you and you’re dead.

  Just like that.

  No tea being cooked, no TV show being caught up on—just a mangled mess for someone else to scoop up and another funeral for your family to arrange.

  I’m depressing, I know that. Initially, I didn’t like being called depressing, but it grew on me after a while. Now, it’s just a part of who I am.

  Given my childhood, I think I’m allowed to be. I know what you’re thinking—everyone has some sort of tragedy or trauma hidden in their past; just suck it up and move on.

  Tell me though—would you allow your eight-year-old daughter to watch movies like Saw or Hostel?

  “Of course not,” I hear you cry. “That’s far too horrific for such a young, impressionable mind.”

  Then, without even thinking about it, horrible real-life cases where video games and movies have been to blame for child murderers are in your mind, making you ever more paranoid about the fact you must keep your precious child away from such terrible things.

  Well, I had a real-life horror movie play out right in front of my eyes.

  The warm spray of my mum’s arterial blood hit me square in the left eye. Have you ever had that happen? It’s quite traumatic, I assure you.

  Agonising screams have haunted my sleep for what feels like eternity along with the chilling image of my mum’s body being opened up like a cattle carcass.

  I don’t think I really need to say that that kind of experience scarred me because it’s obvious. It fuels me as a person, as a vampire, as one of Lilith’s Lamia.

  All I want is blood and I want it in the bloodiest way I can. I can’t tell you why because I don’t know. Maybe that experience as a child re-wired something in my brain; I don’t know. But what I do know is I’m unforgiving and relentless.

  When Lilith delivered the news that we were being let loose, I almost peed myself with excitement. Within the hour, we were topside and ready to rumble.

  I found my first target without even trying. Lilith had used her demonic magick to ‘rent’ us an apartment on the opposite side of town to our old house. We’d just walked through the front door to the building when some geeky guy was so busy ogling at me, he walked right into his front door without even attempting to open it.

  I’d flashed Lina, my sister, a big grin and cooed over the poor man, wholeheartedly accepting his invitation of a cup of coffee.

  The reek of cherries on him was indisputable.

  Bingo.

  I bid Lina goodnight and went after my meal.

  “Miles,” he said, as he shut the door behind me. “Sorry about that. I am a tad clumsy.”

  “No need to apologise. Are you sure you’re ok?” I turned to him in the narrow hallway, purposefully using the small space to my advantage. I lifted a hand, stepped in close, and brushed my fingers against his forehead. “It feels like you have a bump forming already.”

  With our bodies touching, Miles flushed bright red, almost instantly. “I…I’ll get some ice. Thank you.”

  He sidled out from underneath me, sliding along the wall and then disappearing around the corner into the kitchen. “Would you like tea or coffee?” he called out.

  Already trying to think of ways to seduce and maim him, I replied, “Tea, please.”

  “Milk and sugar?”

  “No, thank you. I’m sweet enough.”

  He chuckled. “No milk either?”

  I rounded the corner, widening my eyes at the huge open plan apartment. It was a typical bachelor pad and I began to second guess my judgement.

  Until I saw various pictures of him with a stunning blonde, not that dissimilar from myself.

  Miles stood to my left, behind a grey marble work surface, clattering around with mugs as the kettle whistled away in the background.

  “No, thank you. No milk.”

  “You know they say psychopaths take their tea black.”

  “That’s for coffee, actually.” I flashed him a sweet smile. “But I don’t need a burst of energy just yet.” I’ve got your sweet, sweet blood for that.

  He glanced up, giving me a quizzical look. Then, when he noticed I was stood in front of a picture of him and the blonde, looking rather cosy in a selfie at a camp-site, a flash of horror seeped over his face.

  He suddenly became rather more attractive to me at that point because I knew then that I’d caught my first cheater. He wasn’t bad looking with his thick glasses, curly ginger hair, and the build of a cheese string, he just wasn’t my normal classification of attractive.

  “That’s errr…” he cleared his throat “…my younger sister, Clara. We’re quite close.”

  I twitched my lips into a smirk as I picked the picture up and pretended to study it closely. “Yes, I can tell.” I flipped the picture around so he was staring at it. “Remarkable resemblance between you two. Same mother and father?”

  A hot flush stained his skin bright red from his collarbone all the way up his neck and to his cheeks. “Um, no. Different father.”

  “Still, uncanny resemblance,” I said, resisting the rising giggle. I set the photo back down on the small shelf I’d picked it up from, facing the wall. “Will your sister be likely to stop by any time soon?”

  “No,” he said, grabbing the kettle when it clicked off. He poured the boiling water into both mugs and spilled some on the worktop too. “She’s away for the week on a business trip.”

  “Nice,” I said, walking towards the work surface. I skimmed my left index finger across the smooth, shiny surface as I walked around it to my prey. “So it’s just you, alone, in here for the next week?”

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. He turned his back to me as he swung to his right to rehome the kettle. He missed his target and the kettle fell off, clattering onto the work surface and spilling boiling water everywhere. “Just little old me.”

  I walked up behind him, grinning. With my left hand, I grabbed a hold of his groin from behind, pressing my body into his. “I wouldn’t say your little,” I whispered, giving his junk a good squeeze. “And judging from that, you’re definitely not old
either.”

  He groaned and closed his eyes. “Dear God. What are you doing to me, lady?” He licked his lips, opened his eyes, and turned his head to look at me. Our noses were almost touching. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “You don’t need to,” I replied, inching my lips closer to his. “All you need to know is I’ll be the last thing you ever see.” I rubbed his excited member through his jeans, taking his mind off what I just said.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, leaning back into me. “Touch me, please.”

  And there it was. The simple, lust driven begging of a committed man, asking someone other than his beloved to pleasure his flesh. It was pathetic, infuriating, and oh so wrong.

  I wasn’t feeling particularly horny for this guy, so his ‘sister’ could keep the pointless badge of being the last one to bring him to orgasm.

  I briefly brushed my lips over his, and then with my right hand, I turned his head so I had all the access I needed to that delicious spot on his neck.

  With perfect timing, I slid my hands down the front of his jeans and grabbed a hold of him just at the moment I sank my canines into his neck.

  I didn’t bother blessing him with the anaesthetic my saliva could provide. Why should a cheating scumbag receive such niceties?

  He moaned loudly as I took my first draw.

  The delicious liquid gliding over my tongue brought me almost enough pleasure as any sexual encounter surely would.

  “Ow,” he whispered, after a few seconds. “Easy on the hiccy. It needs to fade before my…sister comes back.”

  Rolling my eyes, I took my hand out of his jeans and wrapped my arm around his torso, pinning him to me. I sucked harder, wanting the blithering idiot to end already.

  He hissed once more, another whispered ‘ouch’ coming from him before he fell into unconsciousness.

  A few seconds later, the heavy thud of his heart giving its final beat resounded through his chest. As the last drop of his life fell onto my tongue, I realised I’d completely ignored his life movie playing out in my minds eye. I didn’t care really; I wanted my first full meal to myself and I’d done it.

 

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