Wordless: new adult paranormal romance (Age of Blood Book 1)

by May Sage

  William couldn’t save them all without alerting the rogues of his intention to file a report, and he couldn’t afford to mess up his investigations that way; especially this time.

  Nothing was going to get in the way of his search for Adrian.

  William and Adrian had been friends until very recently; that bridge had crashed, burnt, and gone to hell when the man had disappeared with one of his protégé’s sons.

  Some vampires liked to brag about how many humans they had under their thumbs; William had no need to. When he felt like showing off, he introduced himself. That being said, he did protect a fair few humans. Amongst them, there was one family he particularly cared about: almost every human with a drop of Gardiner blood had voluntarily entered his service, for five generations. They were loyal to him and he had their back – simple as that.

  No sane vampire would have messed with any of them, yet they’d found the nineteen-year-old Gardiner boy’s corpse six weeks ago. The state of the remains, he’d rather never think of. Mutilated didn’t even begin to cover it.

  Amongst other injuries, there had been countless bites, and the entire corps reeked of Adrian.

  Everyone knew Adrian had particular tastes, but it hadn’t been that – or not just that, in any case. Adrian was playing with witches; of that, William was sure. The boy had been a seventh son; no one was interested in seventh sons, save for witches.

  They’d been an issue since the takeover. Witches had loved it back when humans had been in control, because manipulating mortals determined to ignore anything they found even remotely impossible had been a piece of cake – humans just refused to believe someone could have cursed them, so they used half-cooked scientific explanations rather than just pointing their fingers at a person they’d pissed off. Now the Witches had to answer for their actions.

  The shifters were no better; they’d had no issue obeying random human rules about hunting and other matters, but bowing to a vampire wasn’t an option, in their opinion.

  William knew there would be a war, eventually – a significant one, this time. Adrian was a loose cannon in this world. He had friends amongst shifters, witches, and vampires alike – no one could really tell where his allegiance lay.

  If Adrian’s actions were a precursor to a bigger problem, they needed to know it as soon as possible.

  “He isn’t very nice,” Fay replied, her gaze on her knees.

  That got his attention.

  “What has he done to you?”

  “Not much,” she replied dismissively. “I’m not to his taste.”

  She knew Adrian, alright.

  “But the guys at the house… they don’t come out of the infirmary for days after his visits. One has died.”

  Needless to say, Vincent hadn’t reported any human death attributed to vampires.

  William was yet again struck afresh by the stupidity of the council.

  Those rejects no one wished to deal with had been banished to faraway towns, instead of being kept close; they needed constant supervision, dammit. Submitting defenseless humans to their rules was a show of supreme foolishness.

  Thankfully, Michael agreed. He sent out Knights and huntsmen everywhere there were rumors of mistreatments. Abusive lords were imprisoned for a minimum of a year and after passing their rehabilitation assessments, they lived under strict surveillance until they’d proven themselves wiser. Those who crossed the line were killed on spot.

  From what he’d seen, Vincent wasn’t as bad as some… but he would have loved nothing more than to see him burn regardless.

  “When was the last time you saw him?” he asked, trying to get his head back in the game.

  “About a couple of weeks ago. He was in a hurry; just in and out.”

  Brilliant. It meant the asshole might be cocky enough to still be in the country. Not that a few thousand miles would have made much of a difference, but going oversea meant dealing with other Covens. Not all of them would welcome his interference in their domain.

  Politics. His favorite thing, right after self-flagellation and fang extraction.

  “He said there was a pit-bull on his ass, that he was going to lay low for a while, but he told Vincent their agreement still stood. I don’t know what that means.”

  William couldn’t believe his ears.

  “You were in the room?”

  She shrugged.

  “Whenever a guest arrives, I’m required to stay in the next room, in case I’m needed. I’m supposed to listen, because Vincent might call,” she said quickly, as if to justify her eavesdropping.

  William wasn’t exactly complaining.

  Hell. He really couldn’t believe Vincent had been stupid enough to sell her. If William had been a conniving, spineless little shit, he would have kept her close at all times. But then again, he was smart.

  Considering that revelation, it was a really good thing he’d gotten her out of there. She would have been the first to be slaughtered, at the signs of a raid.

  “I need you to think hard and tell me everything you remember about any conversation they ever had.”

  Fay couldn’t help it: she yawned after a while. Her throat was getting pretty dry; she’d talked for what felt like hours – something she wasn’t used to.

  Yet, she did so eagerly, delighted at the prospect of betraying Vincent and perhaps even making things difficult for Adrian in the process. Dangerous, but exhilarating.

  She had a good memory, and Adrian’s visits were accompanied with so much anxiety, it was the last thing she might forget, so she had a lot to say.

  “Enough of this for tonight,” the ancient told her when she resumed explaining about the time when Vincent had exchanged a boy of his for a girl of Adrian’s. “It’s almost dawn, and you’ve given me plenty of ammunition. Go to sleep, if you can. We have another five or six hours to go.”

  Then, he handed her his expensive, crisp jacket, and she wrapped it around her shoulders.

  Inhaling a mix of musk, cologne, and a faint spicy scent she couldn’t place, she fell asleep and dreamt of being fucked; hardly a new turn of events.

  This time, though, her lover wasn’t faceless.

  This time, it wasn’t exactly a nightmare.

  When they stopped for fuel, William bought a blanket for his pocket size sleeping beauty, knowing his light jacket probably didn’t cut it.

  Their kind preferred the cold, and he’d stopped himself from demanding that Jessica raised the temperature in the car.

  Jess wasn’t a problem, but Mark might be. He knew his type: made less than twenty years ago, he wanted to prove himself, and went about it completely the wrong way. Eventually, he’d try to piss him off, to show that he was a big bad vampire who wasn’t impressed by anyone and all that. Which was fine; children needed to push their elders’ buttons to understand the rules of the game. William just didn’t want to give him a reason to mark the vulnerable girl as a way to get to him.

  However, he soon realized he already had.

  “I get why you got all possessive, by the way,” Mark chuckled, following him around while he was browsing the petrol station’s kiosk to stretch his legs. “That chick is one hot piece of ass.”

  It seemed he hadn’t caught on, yet.

  “Do I need to remind you of that girl’s name, Mark?” William replied.

  The soldier swallowed, rightly assuming that the reminder wouldn’t be more pleasant than the first time he’d introduced them.

  “Fay is under my protection. You know how I treat those who harm the mortals I’ve pledged to look after.”

  On that note, he went to pay, gently tapping Mark’s shoulder as he passed him by.

  The kid wasn’t that bad; he just had a lot of maturing to do. Turning twenty-year-olds was frowned upon for that very reason; it took them a long time to stop acting like unruly children.

  William sighed when he heard the light steps trailing him on his way out.

  Jessica wasn’t a threat, but she could be nosier
than a pack of bored housewives.

  She walked next to him, staring at him and grinning like a Cheshire cat, until he broke down.

  “Just say what you have to say so we can move the fuck on.”

  “Six months.”

  His left eyebrow waggled a fraction; whatever that was, it almost sounded like a challenge and… well, he kind of liked those.

  “I give you six months until you announce you’re taking her as your consort.”

  He chuckled. She was obviously losing her touch.

  Jess’s dares were generally impossible to win – one of the main reasons why he’d kept her around for over a century.

  This time, she was off her rocker.

  “Laugh all you want. You obviously haven’t tasted her blood yet. Or her pussy, for that matter. Jeez, the girl is sweet.”

  What the hell was it with his underlings pushing his limits these days?

  A while back, no one so much as talked when he entered a room. He guessed the fact that they were all bound by stupid rules had given others a false sense of security; they’d figured that he wouldn’t just eviscerate someone. Now he had to justify his actions.

  They were wrong. He’d still cut a throat without so much as an afterthought for a valid reason; and protecting – or avenging – innocents was as valid as it got.

  Jess met his icy stare, then broke into another grin.

  Damn. She’d been messing with him.

  “Got ya. Six months, boss. Probably less.”

  She disappeared in the front cab of the car after winking at him.

  William rolled his eyes and open his door. A glance down to the girl spread out on his seat had him break into an involuntary smile that might have made him consider Jess’s words more seriously, if she’d given a reasonable timescale. Six months was just ridiculous... but if he’d imagined his idea of a perfect consort physically, he would have seen someone exotic, with a darker complexion – a Latina or an African descendent perhaps. A small, slender frame. Come to bed dark eyes.

  He would have seen Fay.

  However, the bond between consorts had practically nothing to do with appearances. Obviously, attraction was a must, but a vampire’s mate needed to be so much more than beautiful. Strong. Independent. Inquisitive. Trusting. Everything little Fay wasn’t.

  As far as he could see, in any case.

  Recalling how little he knew of her, William took his phone and called the best hacker in the realm.

  Sure, he could have directly asked her, but waking her up when she looked so peaceful right now wasn’t an option.

  “My liege,” the asshole said on the other end of the phone.

  They had exactly the same rank in their Coven: both of them were Knights. Yet Knox insisted in calling him by rubbish titles that shouldn’t mean anything in the twenty-first century…

  They did, though. William tried to ignore that fact whenever he could, but they weren’t in the twenty-first century; they were in year 15 AGR – After the Great Reveal.

  Every relevant title had been reinstated which meant that he was Knox’s liege.

  Stupid politics.

  “I need a favor.”

  That got his attention; William had already paid every single favor he’d owed Knox and the hacker did love having some leverage.

  “Pray tell?”

  “Name: Fay. Location: Riverville. Age: between…” he glanced again, and grimaced.

  He had unabashedly stared at her ass – amongst other things – assuming that she was an adult, but she did look pretty young.

  Way to speedily kill a hard-on.

  “Fifteen and twenty-five.”

  Hopefully, closer to twenty-five.

  “Got her. Only one option: Fay Turner, twenty-one.”

  Thank fuck. His dick merrily went back to pushing against his zipper.

  “I need her last academic results. Has she graduated from High School?”

  Knox laughed on the other end of the phone.

  “She’s got a BA, man. Cum laude. Just started a master’s.”

  And that was why he shouldn’t ever judge books by their covers. The pretty girl had brains. Damn.

  “Thanks.”

  “That’s it? I can’t exactly cash in on a favor for something you could have googled.”

  William was about to acquiesce, when an idea popped in his mind.

  “Actually, no, that’s not it. I need you to erase everything saved on her, save for her academic performance. Social media, official records – everything. Change the address, in particular.”

  A few seconds later, Knox said an eloquent “Oh.”

  He’d dug up her status, apparently.

  “Yes, oh. Make sure no one can trace that shit.”

  Four

  She was confused at first; the bed she woke up in was unfamiliar. Her mattress had always been hard, with a few loose springs, yet today it was so comfortable; the back ache she’d sported for so long had considerably subsided, and there was no doubt that the soft pillow under her shoulders had something to do with it.

  The best was the feather-light, yet deliciously warm cover. She didn’t think she’d ever felt something as heavenly.

  Everything came back to her all at once. She wasn’t Vincent’s slave anymore. She belonged to an ancient she didn’t even know the name of.

  Now she was over the fact that her life had taken a surprising U-turn, she was grinning. Sure, she wasn’t certain what would be in store for her yet… but she decided to be optimistic until something made her feel otherwise. He’d seemed considerably more civilized than the average bloodsucker. Perhaps he might even be one of those masters who asked whether it was ok to bite before going for it?

  Her surroundings greatly contributed to her good humor. The room around her couldn’t have been more different to her previous home: where Vincent’s place had been dark, cluttered and gloomy, this one was modernized to the nth degree.

  The bedroom was luxurious and gigantesque – almost the size of Vincent’s drawing room. Two walls were painted grey, another one, covered in blue and gold lush wallpaper, but it was the last she went to.

  The entire façade was a floor to ceiling window, to which she was drawn to like moth to a flame. The view way, way down below was unparalleled; she’d seen pictures of New York City by the bucket load, but nothing had prepared her for this.

  They used to call it the city that never slept. Now it did, during the day. Fay must have woken up just in time to catch twilight, and there was no car in sight, saved for a handful of wayward yellow cabs.

  The city was dead and beautiful.

  “Pretty impressive from up here, right?”

  She turned to find a plump, smiling woman who must have been somewhere around her fifties.

  To Fay, she was an oddity. Older people had been rare in Riverville to start with; they’d all moved out as soon as they had been free to, and in her three years confined in Vincent’s home, she hadn’t seen anyone who looked one day past thirty-five.

  Also, the woman didn’t have a collar. Not every human did – there were plenty of free ones – but if she wasn’t mistaken, she was in the ancient vampire’s home. Yet that human wasn’t a slave?

  Fay bit her question back; asking outright would be rude.

  “It’s gorgeous. I would love to visit,” she admitted longingly, wondering whether she’d ever be allowed to, or if she’d be kept like a bird in a cage again.

  At least, this cage was pretty.

  “Of course, poppet. Just be sure to always take a few men with you; a pretty girl like you can never be too careful.”

  What. The. Hell. She could go out, just like that?

  Recovering from that bombshell took so long the older lady had moved on to another subject; she was now babbling about her wardrobe.

  “So, you’ll only find essentials in there, for now,” she told her, gesturing to a chest of drawers artfully painted a dark blue brushed with gold, like her vibrant wall. “I bought
you t-shirts and some yoga pants; sorry dear, I didn’t know your size, so they may not be the best fit, but Agnes is very much looking forward to taking you shopping in the best places tonight.”

  Her head was hurting so bad right now, she didn’t even bother trying to understand. The world wasn’t going to make sense for a little while and she had to deal with that.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, before the lady could throw another confusing tirade at her. “I’m Fay. Fay Turner.”

  “Zeva, Poppet. I’m the housekeeper upstairs – I don’t mesh with the whole mess in the rest of the building, but if you need anything done up here in the penthouse, you come to me.”

  Fay felt considerably better, now. From her experience, getting along with the housekeeper went a long way towards having a peaceful life.

  The one at Vincent’s had taken a dislike to her, which had meant that the water in her bathroom was somehow always cold; she had to clean her own rooms – she hadn’t minded, honestly; it had been something to do. Other things had been more problematic; for example, if she missed the communal meals – which had happened often as Vincent generally called her around dinner time – no one was allowed to serve her anything. One of the servants, Xia, had sneaked in leftovers when she could.

  Fay couldn’t imagine Zeva would let anyone go hungry for kicks.

  Undeniably proving that, she was on her way to get some breakfast ready.

  “You’re the first up, so far. The others generally emerge around seven or eight, so nothing is ready yet,” she told her apologetically.

  Fay waved it off. That had been her normal time, too, but obviously, the long nap in the car, followed by some sleep in the wondrous bed, had screwed with her body clock.

  It made her wonder; how had she ended up in the bedroom anyway? Who had carried her? It was a miracle that she’d slept through it.

  “Breakfast won’t be for half an hour or so. Feel free to veg out in a nice warm bath, sweetie.”