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

by May Sage

  “Agnes can’t stand any sort of competition – from humans, in any case.”

  She was biting her lip, obviously wanting to add something, but it was Charlotte who spelt it out, rolling her eyes.

  “It’s about William. She’d like to become relevant to him. I know my brother, and that’s as likely to happen as another Ragnarok.”

  Her brother?

  Now Charlotte had pointed out the connection, Fay saw the resemblance. William might have darker hair – dirty blond, rather than her reddish honey – but otherwise, they definitely bore similar features. They were equally stunning, for one.

  She couldn’t help it: she was grinning like the fool she was, now it was obvious that the perfect creature wasn’t her savior’s wife.

  Stupid. Completely, utterly stupid.

  Sure, he might not be attached to that particular vampire, but the point was that he belonged with someone just as remarkable – kind, beautiful and kick ass.

  And dammit, was she really getting obsessive over some guy she’d met under twenty-four hours ago? Some vampiric guy, at that.

  There was something wrong with her brain.

  “Thank you,” she told the vampire. “You’ve obviously intimidated her.”

  “That would be because I’m crazy,” Charlotte replied casually. “She knows I wouldn’t think twice before bleeding someone who displeases me.” Then, although she’d just given the weather forecast, she offered: “Should we go to a spa, then? On me, ladies.”

  Fay shook her head, still smiling, and deciding that she was the crazy one: instead of running the other way, screaming, she smirked and followed the self-proclaimed nutcase to a beauty parlor, without having the decency of being even a little bit scared of her.

  She had no idea what kind of wonderland she’d stepped into when she’d crossed the borders of New York City, but she was definitely enjoying the ride.

  Six

  He knew he’d made the right decision as soon as they walked in.

  Next to Jessica and Charlotte, Fay should have appeared significantly inferior; not in a bad way, but having humans and vampires side by side was like comparing cats and tigers, usually. Humans were cute – vampires, magnificent or at the very least, intimidating.

  Fay wore heeled ankle boots that made her legs look like they belonged around his shoulders, especially in the skinny jeans which covered her lean legs, emphasizing on the curve of her hips. Her soft, silky white top fell mid-thighs, under a blood red leather jacket. Her hair had new layers, and cascaded down her back in waves. She wore make-up, too: not a lot, but her plump lips were red, and her eyes, highlighted by a graceful black line.

  She was a tiger, alright.

  That was not what he’d had in mind, when he’d asked for a makeover. Her style was so diametrically opposite to the usual smart, conservative, or fashionable things Agnes valued, he didn’t believe for one second that she had a thing to do with it.

  As the personal shopper was nowhere to be seen, and Charlotte was now accompanying Fay, he could hazard a guess as to where it had all gone wrong. He glared at his sister, who blew him a kiss.

  Forcing himself to appear somewhat civilized, William turned to the mini bombshell and forced a smile.

  “How did it go?”

  The darn girl had the gall to blush. Fuck.

  His dick twitched in agreement. Yes, let’s fuck, it said quite clearly, forgetting how uncooperative it had been the last time it had found itself inside a wet pussy.

  It wanted hers. And her mouth. And darn, that fantastic ass, too.

  “Thank you for the clothes,” she replied shyly, looking down.

  Her subdued demeanor was torture. He wanted to tell her to kneel and call him sir.

  Jess replied to his actual question, breaking his focus before he could do something he regretted – like ripping those clothes off.

  Then, he’d buy the entire outfit twenty times, to do it over and over again.

  “It was pretty good, after Charlotte scared Agnes into not trying to make Fay look ridiculous in epaulettes.”

  “And ruffles,” the girl interjected helpfully.

  Oh, hell. Ruffles? He thought they’d have passed a law against that monstrosity by now.

  “Thanks, sister.”

  “You’re welcome.” And because Charlotte couldn’t have been helpful and leave it at that, she added, “just try not to send your whore with a girl who’s prettier than her in the future.”

  An unexpected chuckle made him turned towards Fay again, surprised and perhaps a little bit irritated, too. She’d warmed up to his sister so quickly, and she still looked at him as though she expected him to pounce on her any second.

  Calm down, he told himself, biting back whatever he might have said. And get the heck out of here.

  “Going anywhere?”

  Charlotte was pointing to the small, tattered Louis Vuitton wardrobe case she ought to recognize; she’d purchased it for him somewhere around nineteen twenty, before it had become a statement.

  William didn’t bother with clothes or personal hygiene essentials – that, he could easily purchase – but no way was he going anywhere without his favorite arsenal of weapons, and all of them fit perfectly in there.

  “Yes, I’m on my way out. I’ve left you a to do list.”

  Jess immediately stood straighter, adopting a professional composure.

  “Are we back on the case?”

  “No.” Well, at least, she wasn’t. “You’re staying here on an assignment. I’ll send you a briefing.” A very short, simple briefing: take care of Fay. “Michael wants me at Court.”

  That wasn’t a lie, strictly speaking; Michael always wanted him at Court. That didn’t exactly mean that he was actually needed.

  “I’m sure he does,” his dear sister snorted with a knowing grin. “Well, gives my best to the King. Tell him he’s toast if he forgets my birthday this year.”

  William smiled and kissed his sister’s cheeks. Then, he wasn’t entirely sure what happened, but next thing he knew, his lips had just touched Fay’s forehead. He was practically bent in two to reach her.

  He froze at the sudden and powerful jolt of energy that simple touch had caused.

  Hell. Door. Where was the door?

  “Take care,” he said to no one in particular, before hurrying out of the doors.

  Sometimes, there was no shame in waving a white flag and running the fuck out of there.

  Every day, she woke up at twilight, cold and shivering at the nightmares. The memories. The guilt.

  The guilt was prominent. The shadow of everyone she’d left behind – and Cece in particular – wasn’t far every time something good happened to her; a ghost reminding her that she didn’t deserve any of it.

  She was treated like a princess, there was no other word for it. Day three, she was given a bank card with her name on it, and informed that a huge personal allowance was going to get transferred in her account on a regular basis.

  “What is it for?” she asked, confused.

  They’d purchased anything she could possibly want, she already had a laptop in her room, and a phone just like Jessica’s mysteriously appeared next to it.

  “Anything,” Charlotte shrugged, before amending that statement, mentioning that she wasn’t allowed to purchase drugs.

  “It’s strictly forbidden at the Academy,” she’d explained, as though it needed justification.

  “I can’t take it… it’s too much.”

  “Two hundred dollars a week is hardly a fortune, Fay. It’s a very basic allowance – to cover your food when you’re out for lunch, the occasional coffee and some nights out with your friends. You’ll wish you had more when you’re used to NYC.”

  Unlikely.

  “If you need some extra cash, you can work for it,” she added. “There’s always some inventorying and other boring stuff to do – just ask. But the Academy will keep you busy, and you shouldn’t worry about anything but your studies. Your p
ocket money comes from my account; feel free to give it back to me when you get a job if you want to.”

  The knot in her stomach loosened. Firstly, it wasn’t another thing she owed to William – that was a considerable bonus point. But the prospect of being able to pay it back was what sold her on it; although, from what she could tell of Charlotte’s demeanor, the vampire wasn’t particularly bothered whether she did or not.

  Armed with her own money – of sort – she felt bold enough to mention going out in the city the next day; no one protested.

  Would that ever fail to surprise her?

  “Let’s go, then,” Jessica said.

  She’d tagged along, trailing a couple of meters behind her.

  Admittedly, Fay had wondered if she was there to ensure she wasn’t running away, but an incident cleared that up.

  Some guy of the bloodsucking sort stopped her and got a bit too friendly.

  “Come on, beautiful,” he’d said, his nostrils visibly inhaling her scent. “You know you want me.”

  She’d said no. Three times. By the third one, it was firm and dismissive. Something in his conduct – and the fact that he hadn’t lifted his hand to strike her – made her understand that he wasn’t going to hurt her in public.

  Her confidence grew exponentially; she came out of her shell and just told him to fuck off.

  “Don’t be like that, da’ling. I’ll make you come so hard you…”

  He never finished that sentiment, thrown a good ten steps back so quickly Fay didn’t even see the movements. All she knew was that Jessica was next to her, glaring at the vampire.

  “She fucking said no, dickwit.”

  Fay stared open mouthed, almost drooling.

  Damn if Jessica didn’t look – and sounded – kick ass.

  She wanted that. She wanted to be able to glare like that and have men cower away sprouting apologies.

  Sure, it wasn’t likely, given the fact that she was a hundred percent human, and a tiny little one at that, but a girl could dream.

  “That was amazing.”

  Jessica just shrugged, gesturing forward.

  “Carry on, then.”

  She bit her lip and frowned.

  “Spit it out.”

  “You could walk with me?”

  It was just silly to have her follow her from a distance.

  Jessica looked surprised, but she grinned.

  “I sure can. Where are we headed?”

  “I wanted to see the MET.”

  They continued on their way. Turned out, Jessica could have been a curator for the museum; she knew every piece in and out.

  “Did you study history?” she asked, wondering at her erudition.

  “Nah. I was there when they opened the MET, and every time they’ve added a piece, I did my homework.” Seeing her inquisitive expression, Jessica added, “I’m from New York, born and bred right after the Civil War.”

  “That must have been a hard time to grow up in.”

  She didn’t point out the obvious: Jessica was black.

  She cackled in response.

  “Hard doesn’t begin to cover it, girl. But I learnt to defend myself pretty damned quick – that’s how William noticed me. I was showing some low-life that no meant no when we met. Thing was, the low-life happened to be a vampire. I never had a chance.”

  Fascinated, Fay opened her mouth before wondering if she was being indiscreet. She didn’t want her new friend to be offended.

  “You’re going to have to learn to stop overthinking and just say what you want to, girl.”

  Yeah, right. That was likely to happen.

  She’d seen with her own eyes that asking the wrong question could cost someone all his blood; she wasn’t making that mistake.

  “I’d like you to go on. Explain what happened.”

  “The guy tried to drain me; I would have died. Then, vampires had rules that were more severely punished than they are now – they had to preserve their anonymity, you see. So, once it was clear that he intended to break the law, William broke his neck. That kept him out of commission for an hour or two. He took us both back to his Coven – that punk, to be judged, me, to see if I was going to make it. When it was clear I was, I became a problem. I knew about them. The patriarchs were going to have to kill me for the greater good, or whatnot. William said he’d change me instead and here I am.”

  She could see it clear as day. He’d probably worn a top hat and a tail coat, carelessly elegant just as he was right now. A gentleman coming at the lady’s rescue – again.

  Yeah, she was swooning.

  That made her frown. There was no way that Jessica hadn’t felt like throwing herself at him, just like Fay did.

  Obviously she was an open book, because the vampire smirked knowingly.

  “Yeah, I had a crush. However, William doesn’t touch anyone who is into him because of gratitude.”

  Fay took that for what it was: a little warning. She didn’t need it: she had no intention of making a fool of herself by propositioning her saviour.

  What Jessica had said didn’t quite apply to her, though. She hadn’t developed her “crush” because he’d rescued her; her fascination had started the moment they’d met, and was growing with everything she learnt about him.

  It was a moot point. There was no way she could compete for his attention against the likes of Agnes or Jessica, and she knew it. Besides, she was completely unable to think anything remotely coherent whenever he was near.

  She could answer basic questions, she could try and smile, but the very idea of attempting to seduce anyone was preposterous; let alone a gorgeous, perfect, intimidating man such as him.

  She was perfectly content to admire him from afar.

  “That’s an honorable policy,” was all she said.

  “Honorable could have been his middle name if it wasn’t already Vlad.”

  Fay turned to Jessica, chuckling. The idea of Vlad the Vampire had its appeal.

  “Like Dracula?”

  “You don’t know half of it. I’m telling you, but you haven’t heard it from me, ok?”

  She nodded eagerly in response.

  “He’s from Transylvania.”

  “No.”

  “Born around fourteen twenty or so.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “I kid you not. You want the worst thing? His name’s Drake nowadays, but it used to be Dracul.”

  “Fuck me.”

  They laughed like silly girls, bonding over the most unlikely rumor she’d ever heard.

  “Yeah, I also thought that was rubbish, at first. Then I met his brother. He’s called Vlad, too. Believe me, you will not be able to stand in the same room as him without shivering.”

  Fay waggled an eyebrow, curious.

  “While they share some resemblance, he’s very different from William. He might as well have invented the whole mysteriously scary thing. Most of his movements are pretty slow, for one of us. Calculated. He looks at you as though he can see your soul… and he can. He reads minds.”

  That did sound pretty intimidating… yet Fay would have been more scared if Jessica had described Vincent’s careless disregard for anything past his own enjoyment; she’d take someone who judged individuals based on their thoughts any day.

  “And now I guess, you have to add the fact that he’s our King.”

  They’d arrived back home by then, and that conversation made Fay realize just how little she knew of those around her, which awakened her curiosity.

  More observant now, she took in the emblem over the reception desk – something imposing and definitely regal: a dragon devouring a heart. How appropriate.

  There were people sitting in a waiting area; she’d walked out with her head bowed down low before, so she hadn’t paid them much attention. Now, she frowned, wondering what they could be doing there.

  She asked Jessica, who shrugged.

  “Anything, really. There are offices on the first twenty floors – ad
ministrative stuffs, mainly. You know, registration of births, deaths, marriages, applications for grants and welfare.”

  “Like in a city hall?”

  “Exactly like that. There,” she indicated, pointing at large doors beyond the elevator they were taking, “you can get to the gardens. Inside, there’s a dome with a ballroom that we can get over a thousand people in comfortably. It was a bitch to find a place suitable for all that when William claimed New York, so we razed two ugly skyscrapers and built it.”

  “You mean to say that William owns New York City.”

  “New York state,” she amended. “He doesn’t really have much to do with the actual running of things, though – William’s a Knight.”

  She said that like it should have made Fay immediately understand what she meant. Catching her puzzlement, Jessica told her,

  “Damn. You have a lot to learn. The Academy’s going to be a bit of a shock to the system. Knights answer directly to the King. They are above the law and their sole purpose is to protect the Coven. They have soldiers under their command – I’m one of William’s. That’s why William delegates most of the day-to-day politics around here.”

  After that, she reasoned that nothing else she might learn about him would surprise her; he was an actual Knight – she would have bet he owned a shining armor or two. Nothing could beat that.

  Or so she thought.

  The following night was Monday, her first day at the Academy and by the time she’d left, she’d decided that there was a possibility she might be in a coma, and dreaming up the whole thing.

  The Academy took over an entire block, carved into an imposing beaux-art edifice with columns, high, arched ceilings, teal blue roof and all. Fay had read somewhere that it used to be a hotel; she could image that – it certainly didn’t look like the school she used to attend.

  She tiptoed inside just before nine, as she’d been asked to, and stood dazedly in front of a grand stone staircase.

  She didn’t belong there. She really didn’t want to go up to the dean’s office, just to be told that there had been a huge mistake somewhere and that she hadn’t been accepted after all.

  “No one is going to bite you,” Jessica said, meaning it quite literally. “I’ll be close, in any case.”