by J. P. Uvalle
Shit, I’m losing her!
I immediately peel her from the dented metal and lift her into my arms. And just as quickly as I arrived, I take off into the night. Her warm body, with only a faint heartbeat, clenching tightly to mine. I zip into the nearest abandoned building to get a better look at the delicate flower wilting to a bitter end. Once on my knees, my jaw falls to the floor.
It’s her.
Blue eyes. My body runs cold. She’s barely clinging on to the life still present within her. I take a hard gulp as I think of my current dilemma. I know the rules. A vampire is not allowed to heal a human, let alone turn them into one of us without prior permission from an elder. But at the same time, the thought of letting her die in my arms leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. So, what do I do? Put my duty as a commander on the line, and risk being excommunicated or destroyed? Or let the woman I find myself completely infatuated with, take her last dying breath?
Caressing her disfigured face, I frown thinking how young she looks. Skin so supple. She’s barely lived, and her life is about to end. Gone. While, I, a six-hundred-year-old vampire gets to live another day. My emotions vex me. This isn’t passable by any means.
In the past, I’ve always been the rebel. The one who never followed the rules. A glorified sex god. And here is my one chance at redemption and I’m torn. I sigh heavily in time with her shallow breath. She’s slipping away, and I can’t bring myself to let her die. I raise my wrist to my mouth and bite into my vein. I hover my wrist over her lips, as my blood drips slowly into her mouth. She swallows my blood, and the tension in my body releases.
Good girl.
I glide my hand over her face once more, catching the blood from her nose against my hand. I stare at the blood streak, and the smell calls to my senses. Nectar, so succulent and sweet, could easily be on my tongue, then after, flowing through my starved veins. I drool, yearning for the rarest and potent blood of all. The most powerful. Hers. I bring my hand close to my nose, breathing in what I crave more than anything. My fixation gets the best of me, and I slip my tongue from my lips, tasting her sweet nectar. A surge of energy soon courses through me, and I shove my entire hand into my mouth. I devour it all, licking my hand clean. An instant high—my body lusting for more. One drop and I’m hooked, feeling the explosion inside me.
Her nose begins to shift back into place. I take this as a hint to get her back home and disappear from her sight. For now, I will have to keep tabs on her, because if something else happens to her, I’ll have a perplexing situation on my hands. I stand still, holding her close to me, and jump down into a darkened alleyway, speeding all the way to her dorm room on the top floor. I have no choice but to kick the door open. I walk over to her bed, adjust her limbs, and pull the covers over her. Before I leave, I gently kiss her forehead and exit back the way I came. Luckily, the building is quiet, and no is around to witness me leaving.
That annoying squawking noise penetrates my ears as a gust of wind meets me on the outside of the building. I instinctively follow it from the ground.
“There’s Lord Vladimir,” I hear Delia say in the distance.
I don’t slow down. I know my brood will catch up to me eventually. It’s time to find out where these mutants came from.
STALKING THE BEAST, I end up in the outskirts of the city, near an old junkyard, with the stench of their kind lingering in the air.
Fitting for scum.
The Dycipher turns on its side, extending the span of its black wings as it flies around a pile of cars. Once I make the bend, the beast is nowhere to be found. I stop to ponder over my next move, allowing the members of my brood to catch up with me.
What in the world?
“My Lord,” Ozario calls out. “Where’d that filthy beast—”
I put up my hand, and they screech to a halt. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” I squint activating my x-ray vision. Oddly, my gaze won’t penetrate through the pile of cars enclosing us. Growls erupt from my chest. I focus harder. My strength is at full capacity just from the one drop of Blue Eyes’ blood. My powers should be limitless.
Unless…
I spin around to face my brood. “They have a witch working for them.” I conclude this witch must have placed a protection barrier around their den. The same witch that must’ve allowed them into the city.
Bloody hell!
Chapter Six
Trinity James
“TRINITY?”
I feel a warmth on my cheek. A voice. It sounds far off in the distance.
“Trinity?” The voice repeats—soft and angelic.
Am I…in heaven?
SLAP!
“OW!” The burn shooting through my cheek forces me upright. I bring my hand to my face to rub away the sting. Although my head is throbbing out of control, my vision clears. I gasp as my eyes find Harper on my bed. I’m in my room, but how the hell did I get here? The last thing I remember was free-falling from the sky. The beast. Instantly pain radiates down the length of my back.
I feel every cut.
Every puncture.
I jump off the bed, gritting my teeth. The pain becomes unbearable, and a scream rips from my throat. “Harp…my back,” Is all I can get out before heaving over on all fours.
She runs to my aid and unzips my tattered dress. “Trinity…” She touches my back gently.
I wince, arching my back. “It hurts so fucking bad.” My eyes well with tears as they begin dripping onto the carpet. My whole back feels like its set on fire.
“Honey, I don’t see anything. Please tell me what’s happened to you?” I hear Harper begin to sob while her gentle touches still linger along my skin—over my lacerating wounds.
How does she not see them?
“The cuts, Harper. I have cuts everywhere.” My knees give way, weakened by the sensation ricocheting through my muscles.
Harper reaches over me and hoists me up by my waist. She leads me into the bathroom and runs me a bath. Her delicate hands meet my dress and slowly pull down the fabric. Then she shifts me around so my back is facing the standing mirror. Walking over to the counter, she grabs a hand mirror and offers it to me. “Trinity…there are no cuts. Look.”
I gulp taking the mirror, angling it, so I have a perfect view of my back.
Nothing.
Not a single scratch.
What the fuck?
I continue to gape at my back with cuts I can only feel and not see. I shake my head, handing the mirror back to Harper. Not saying a word, she helps me step out of my dress, and I use her shoulder as support to enter the tub, now full with suds. The warm water soothes my skin, and I take deep, long breaths. I pull my knees into my chest, trying to comprehend what has happened to me. I have no clue how to explain this to her, and I know she’s going to want answers. But right now, she’s being the motherly friend I need, squeezing warm water down my back. As she washes my hair, my mind races, trying to come to some rational conclusion for all this but all I can linger upon is one thought…
I should be dead.
How am I still alive? I fell miles from the sky and crashed into a van. The impact should’ve killed me. But I’m here…no broken bones. No scrapes. Not a single bruise. Completely unscathed aside from my back burning like hell.
Impossible.
I don’t understand…was it just a dream?
I’M SITTING ON the couch with my knees to my chest, on the verge of losing my fucking mind. Meanwhile, Harper is in the kitchen fixing us some dinner. She’s an excellent cook. If I were a lesbian, I’d totally wife that.
“Dinner is served.” She hands me a plate of filet mignon and garlic mashed potatoes.
I inhale the savory aroma of spices before popping a piece of steak into my mouth. “Mmm.” The meat is so tender and juicy it melts in my mouth. I act like I haven’t eaten a meal in days—shoving piece after piece into my mouth, filling it completely.
“Jesu
s, Hoover. Slow down and chew your food.”
But, I can’t. I scoop up some mashed potatoes with my fork and pry it into my mouth. A few bites in and my mouth starts to burn along with my back. Food goes flying out of my mouth and all over the coffee table.
What the hell is happening to me?
I drop my plate in a mad dash to the sink to drench away the heat engulfing my mouth. From the faucet, I gulp down the biting cold water like it’s going out of style.
Harper is quickly at my side, gazing at me with her big eyes. I take another gulp and come up for air. Her hand meets my shoulder. I stand up and face her, wiping the water from my mouth. Her eyes have a wash of concern within them. “Trinity, please tell me what the hell is going on? I came home to the door practically hanging off the hinges, and you knocked out cold.”
I try to open my mouth to speak, but they feel superglued together. I have no clue what to tell her after an hour of thinking about it—I’ve got nothing. At this moment, I’m convinced it was just a dream. Yes, vampires exist, but no way in hell would massive beasts with wings exist too. That’s just impossible. Or is it?
I’m so confused.
She snaps her fingers in my face. “Focus. You’re scaring the shit out of me. Tell me what happened?”
“I don’t know,” I snap. I turn and place both hands on the corner and hang my head in between my shoulders. “I don’t know, Harper,” my voice trails off.
Chapter Seven
Lord Vladimir
BEFORE HEADING BACK to my lair with more questions than answers, I check on Blue Eyes. I’m sitting on top of the building across the way beaming into her open window. I find her in the kitchen with an attractive blonde. I assume they are close by how attentive her friend is being. And from her pale skin and strained posture, I allude Blue Eyes is in duress. The sight makes my insides twist into an unforgiving knot. I want to run to her. Explain everything, but I can’t. I broke the rules. And now, I must hold onto this secret for all eternity. No one can know I healed her. Not even her. So, I sit here and watch from afar. Uncertainty of what’s to become, infects my core. How do you protect someone who has no clue you’re their hero?
“Focus. You’re scaring the shit out of me. Tell me what happened?”
“I don’t know,” she yells. “I don’t know, Harper.”
The fact that she isn’t alone and her friend appears to be a concerned, good-hearted soul puts me slightly at ease.
“Where did you run off to?”
“What I do in my spare time is none of your concern.” I fling open the door to my suite. Delia follows me in without permission. Goodness, this woman angers the vampire-life out of me.
“It is absolutely my concern. Elder Aragón made it perfectly clear, I’m supposed to—”
I tower over her. “I don’t give a damn what you’re supposed to do. I need you to step the hell off my back, and that’s an order.”
“You know…I’m having a hard time believing what people see in you,” she glares. Pivoting on her heel, she marches toward the door and slams it behind her.
Agitated by how my night has gone, I throw a lamp at the door. I let gravity take over, and my back hits my bed. My thoughts instantly migrate to Trinity. Those vibrant blue eyes could hold an entire ocean in them. Her kissable, plump lips. The way her hair shapes that strikingly gorgeous face. Her beauty is what I would describe as untamed. Raw. She looks so young and innocent, but at the same time, there is an alluring darkness to her aura. A rapacious pull I can’t deny. I want to consume every drop of that darkness that looms within the most intimate parts of her soul until there is no divide between our bodies, just our passion in the purest form. That’s what I want. Her. All her. And, I’ll do anything to summon her to me. I close my eyes, allowing my thoughts to flow freely around my brain. They paint a vivid picture of her naked on my bed, completely at my mercy to mark her entire body with my teeth and claws. I pounce on her with the need to have our flesh connected.
“Lord Vladimir,” she moans. “I’ve been waiting for you to mark me, my love. Bite me.”
I growl from hearing the two special words every vampire loves to hear. Sinking my teeth into the velvety skin over her neck makes me feel the closest I’ll ever be to heaven.
My thoughts have me on edge and rock hard. I reach into my pants and imagine her wrapped tightly around my cock like a vise. “Come to me, my love.”
Chapter Eight
Trinity James
I’M STANDING IN the middle of a dismal hallway—gray, stone walls surrounding me. The ground is lined with a rustic red rug trimmed with gold. An eerie mist dusts the air, inhibiting the view in front of me. My heart beats unrestrained within my chest as I slowly tiptoe down the hallway. Soon, a full moon casts in through the windows to my left. I make it to the corner of another long and dimly-lit hallway. There’s a set of heavy wooden doors. Although I begin to shake with fear, I’m drawn to whatever is the other side of the door. The feeling circling inside my belly becomes more intense the closer I get, almost as if my destiny awaits me. Inches away from the door hiding this unknown treasure—something I instantly crave—a woman’s symphony of moans can be heard, fierce and primal. An undeniable urge blooms between my thighs. Lusting for a taste of the ecstasy she’s feeling, my fingers glide down my torso and brush against my clit.
“Come to me, my love,” a seductive and deep voice calls out.
The alarm sounds, and I wake up to find my hand shoved between my legs. My panties soaked from my arousal.
What the...?
“That must’ve been some dream you were having.” Harper gets up to kill the alarm, smirking at me.
Was I talking in my sleep again?
I feel my cheeks warm, and my immediate reaction is to throw one of my pillows at her. “Shut up.”
She catches and throws it back in my face. “Feeling much better I take it?” She raises an eyebrow. Harper then plops down next to me, crossing her legs at the knee. Her silky hair drapes over one shoulder as she continues to give me that spill-it-already glance. “So…who was the lucky dream guy? You were moaning in your sleep.” She curls her lips in like she’s trying not to laugh.
“My God. It’s much worse.” I cover my face with my hands.
“Stop. We’re big girls here. No need to be embarrassed.” She peels my hands from my face.
“Well…I have no clue whom the dream guy was because the damn alarm clock went off before any bow-chicka-wow-wow happened,” I frown.
“Damn. Cock-blocked by the alarm.” She blows out a breath. “Better luck next time.” She slaps me on the arm before getting up to walk over to her side of the dresser. She rummages around inside the drawers before whipping her head around. “Aren’t you going to get ready?”
“Umm…I didn’t exactly start off on the right foot, Harper. I’m pretty sure I blew my chance of getting a job.”
“C’mon, Trinity. You can’t just give up like that.” She turns and leans her back against the dresser with her arms crossed. “Besides, I need some competition. Half the interns were let go yesterday and were told never to come back. You still have a chance.”
I snort. “Oh, that makes me feel ten times better. I already fucked up once.”
She unfolds her arms, walks over and stands over me like a mother who’s about to scold her child for being naughty. “We’re putting together a fashion show for some high-end clients. I suggest you use this opportunity to redeem yourself. Fashion is your forte, after all.”
She does have a valid point.
“But what if I can’t pull this off, Harper?”
Like Velcro, her arm is around my shoulder. “Stop doubting yourself. You got this.”
I smile at her. “What would I do without your optimism?”
AGAINST MY INNER demons saying I should just give up now, we step off the elevator onto the thirtieth floor of the lipstick building. Although Harper mentio
ned half the interns were let go, the scene is quite chaotic—phones are constantly ringing, and worker bees are running to and from their tiny cubicles. The poor assistant who picked the wrong day to wear a white blouse collides with someone carrying a stack of files and ends up with a coffee-stained blouse instead. I can hear my heart drumming in my ears. My anxiety is at an all-time sky-high just watching the overwhelming messes unfold.
What am I doing? I’m not cut out for this.
I debate with myself about stepping back into the elevator but then I hear a familiar voice.
“Ah, Miss James. I’m surprised to see you here.” Cruella Deville rears her ugly head—in a bright orange Versace suit—from a nearby office and struts over to Harper and me, with a smug look on her face. And, it’s all the incentive I need to make my decision.
I can do this.
Commotion to our right draws our attention. A girl with glasses—probably an intern—runs out of one of the other offices followed by a black-haired man in a metallic Armani suit. “And don’t you ever come back,” he yells after her.
Tears trickle down her freckled cheeks as she zips past us, entering the elevator.
“He’s the reason we lost half the interns,” Harper whispers in my ear. Her hand clenches my arm when the yelling tyrant makes eye contact with Cruella, and she waves him in our direction.
Her demeanor takes a one-eighty. “Westbrook, darling,” she says smiling.
Wow. This bitch is capable of a smile. I would’ve never thought it possible.
Harper’s hand finds mine and grips on for dare life as we watch Mr. Westbrook storm in our direction, parting the sea of frantic interns. The man is a bull rushing towards us, and we can do nothing but stand here helplessly waiting to get rammed by his invisible horns.
He stops directly in front of us. “You better have a replacement. I have a lot to get done today.”