A Vampire's Seduction (A Dark Hero Book 1)

by Fleur Camacho

  “Come in.”

  The door opened slowly and she stepped into the room. Her chest rose and fell, a habit from her old life that had yet to subside, and I could feel her fear, and her lust.

  “Sir?”

  I did not answer, and so she deliberately circled the room, studying the faded paintings on the wall. I studied the way her long legs swayed as she moved, and my eyes slid up the slit, giving me just a glimpse of what I desired.

  She moved closer, and her scent pulled me towards her. I gripped the wall and held myself still, forcing my will over the vampire part of me that lived off its baser instincts, my strigoi. Her lips turned up in a half smile, as if she could sense me. She stopped at the drawing of a woman, who lay half-naked on a bed, and Lily studied the strokes of pencil closely. She was so close I could almost touch her. Instead, I reached out with my senses, stroking her neck.

  She took in a sharp breath, and I smiled. I had her exactly where I wanted her. Feeling her desire, I flooded her senses with warmth, the kind that was no longer a blessing of the strigoi, and a reminder that she was alive once. The young don’t generally appreciate this gift, but she had been happy as a human, and I could feel her satisfaction at my gift.

  I moved my senses so that they surrounded her, feeling every part of her body as they drew her in. Her breathing hitched and a hint of red touched her porcelain white cheeks, unknowingly, she opened herself to me. I could see her every longing, exploit her every need. She gasped as I released the fullest of my senses, touching her in her most intimate places and giving her every pleasure that she could only imagine in her favorite dream. After a time, she grabbed the wall, breathless and unable to stand the onslaught any longer. “Arrêtez.” Her voice was a moan and I drew my senses back in slowly, until only a tendril of them stroked at her lips. When I was done, she leaned back, her face turned towards me, open.

  Then her eyes opened and they fell on me. I masked my surprise, but only barely. So she had the gift then.

  “Is that why Stefano turned you?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” Her voice was soft. “But I have been no use to him.”

  Then I was at her side, my breath on her neck, and she took a step closer. “I have a use for you.” I traced my finger down her throat.

  She pressed against me, her eyes an invitation. “I am at your service, Monsieur.”

  The front of her black dress dipped low, showing her pushed cleavage and I ran my finger down it. “You are young.”

  She didn’t answer, and I yanked the dress down. Her breasts pushed against her corset, begging me to release them. I teased her, playing with the clip that would open her to me. “I don’t usually partake in someone so childish, but for you, I will make an exception.” I gripped her hips and pushed her back against the wall, determined to fulfill her every need. She put her arms over her head, showing me what she was willing to offer, as her breasts pushed against each other. My eyes traveled higher as she moved her fingers down her neck, baring it open to me.

  Growling, I leaned in, and she stilled while I smelled her sweat and desire. I stood back up and yanked her towards the bed. I ripped open her corset and, extending my fangs, tasted her as she howled in pleasure.

  Rowan lurched, and the blood leaked from his mouth. I could hear it stream into the bucket and I grinned. “Was she good?”

  Breathing heavily for a moment he called back to me from the other room. “Shut up.”

  I laughed now, and sat at the ornately carved desk. “As long as she went home unaware.”

  “I’m not a child, Detrand.”

  My fingers nimbly thumbed through the neatly stacked paperwork and sighed. It was only the next evening, but there was work to do.

  Agosto made me a strigoi, mostly because he wanted a loyal servant. I served him faithfully, which was easy because he was good to me and taught me how to use my powers conscientiously, so that they grew to be as powerful as his. Back then, many of the strigoi were in hiding, our covens were few. After we were able to come out of hiding, we multiplied, and once there were enough for me to branch out, I traveled back to my Italian roots. I hadn’t been gone long, before someone ended him.

  I would discover his killer, and in order to do that I needed to establish my presence here. “Where’s Agosto’s papers?”

  Rowan leaned on the doorway, wiping his lips. “Everything is there.”

  I turned in my seat. “I cannot find what I need.”

  He shrugged and turned from the room.

  I opened the top compartment to the desk and rummaged through it. “Bring me some gin.”

  After a moment, I sensed his presence behind me and I stilled. His grief leaked into my senses and I blocked them out. Melancholy would do me no good.

  “He hid things from me.”

  “He always hid things from you.”

  He clicked his tongue. “No. This was different.”

  I turned towards him, and his eyes searched mine.

  “If there’s something that he was hiding from you, something important, then he had good reason.” I stood up, taking the glass of gin from his hands and went to the window. The night was still and heavy and my strigoi called out to me. It was a ravenous and insatiable god, always yearning for blood and the hunt, but tonight, I thrust it down. It could wait.

  I sensed the wickedness that stretched through the streets, and even as I watched, blood was spilt, seeping through the grounds and calling for revenge. I took a sip of the gin, and let the warmth travel to my chest, where it settled.

  “Where are his accounts?”

  “I told ya. I don’t know.”

  “I need to settle his debts. And collect mine.”

  Rowan was silent, then turned towards the door. “Come.”

  We traveled to the basement and, as Rowan opened the door, the stench of mold and filth hit my nose. I coughed. “Holy hell.”

  Rowan smirked as he waded through the water. He led me to the far wall and, after opening a crate, he pulled out empty glass bottles. He threw them into the water until he found the one he wanted. He held it to me and I took it.

  “Why did he store these here?” I looked at the water that seeped into the basement from the rising tide. Only death and excrement filled those waters and I stared at the bottle, amazed. “Why risk losing them to the filth?”

  “Because he knew that no one would come looking for them here.”

  “And were there many?”

  “Many what?”

  I twisted the lid impatiently, breaking the seal. “Looking. Were there many looking for them?” The smell of old paper hit my nose and I tipped the jar carefully, flipping through them. This was what I was looking for. I needed to remind the living and the dead who their new master was. If they were determined to stake me, I would not go down without taking them with me, and I would avenge the death of my sire.

  Rowan choked again, his blood sickness threatening to burst from him, and he fled the room, holding his hand over his mouth.

  I called after him. “Tomorrow we will make our visits, and you will go with me.”

  And then the room was empty, save for the dead and the lost. I shoved the papers back in the bottle and pushed the lid tight, tucking it in my jacket. I moved deeper into the room, inspecting the rest of the crates stacked against the back wall. They mostly contained old documents, no longer necessary, and I stuffed them back in their crates. As I moved through the water, the smell of the filth grew stronger, and fingertips caressed my neck.

  I pivoted and studied the darkness. “Go away.”

  Then there was a breath on my ear. “Detrand. Come for me.” I waved my hand, trying to shoo the ghost of my past away, but her hand slid across my chest.

  I slogged to the back wall, using my strigoi sight to study the shelves. A bottle of very old rum and dried flowers were all that was left. I put the rum in my other pocket and made for the door, but her hand was on my chest again and she pushed me into the water.

  I
fell with a splash, and then she was on me, her mouth on mine. I coughed, trying to dispel the taste of her dry lips. I moved to rise, but her body was wrapped around my hips and she held me tightly to the floor. And then she revealed herself to me, her dark hair wet and dripping onto my chest. Her green eyes stared into my soul. “Reach for me, Detrand. I’ve been waiting a long time. Pull me out of the darkness.”

  “I cannot,” I sputtered.

  Her head tilted. “Why not?” Her voice was a hiss, and I tried to console her by stroking her arm. An angry ghost was never a good thing, especially a lingering ghost of the undead with unfinished business.

  My hand lowered towards her fingers, and they gently caressed hers. She watched them with interest, and when she looked up at me, her voice was a whisper as she began to fade. “I’m waiting.”

  And then Sophie appeared behind me, wading through the water with her hands clasped in front of her. Her hair was still pinned up tightly, her clothes still the darkest of black.

  She stood over me, and I looked up at her.

  “Sophie.” I breathed in deeply, pressing my hands into the floor to keep them from touching her. “Your soul haunts mine.”

  She shrugged. “I cannot control what she does.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  She looked towards the back wall, and began to walk towards it. She touched the dried flowers, stroking them softly. “What do you intend to do with me?”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t considered it.”

  “Will you let me go?”

  I studied her, the way her thin arms gracefully hung from her sides, the flowers now gripped in her fingers. “I do not know.”

  She made an irritated noise. “You must tell me my fate. I cannot wait long.”

  I watched her move towards the door, and I couldn’t help but call to her, my voice desperate. She turned slightly back, but then continued towards the stairs. “Let me know by tomorrow.”

  I called after her, louder now even though it wasn’t necessary. “I have business tomorrow.” But she was gone.

  My strigoi called to me, demanding attention and needing the comfort and nourishment of the sweetest claret. It purred, deep in my chest and I got up, soaking and drenched with the filth of the city, answering the call. I moved to the garden and my canines descended, thirsty for the blood that called from the streets. I could hear the living as they moved through the city, as if they wanted me to come to them. To feel the euphoria of my bite as I pulled their life giving blood into me.

  I stopped as Lily entered the garden. Her steps were unnatural as they marched along the path. She was furious. My lips twisted up, and I waited for her to come to me.

  “You killed him.” Her hands grasped her skirt tightly and her hair was pinned up in a messy bun, with some escaped strands that floated around her head. The dark dress she wore was pinned up to her neck, but I could still see the paleness of her neck along her jawline as the light from the moon shined down on her.

  I picked at my teeth lazily, even though my fangs were still drawn out, my strigoi pulsing through my body, and then raised my eyebrow at her.

  “He was my mate.”

  I laughed. “He was not your mate.”

  “He was my mate for forty years.”

  I turned my top lip up. “Such a short time. You have plenty of time to find another.”

  “I loved him.”

  I bent over her, showing her my teeth and she took a step back, but stared me boldly in the eyes.

  “If he was your true mate, you would not have approached me so easily.”

  Her face grew flustered. “I had no choice. You would have killed us both.”

  I stepped forward and trailed my finger down her cheek. “It’s a good thing you came so quickly then.”

  She hissed at me and I pulled back. “Did I not satisfy you? Was not your every desire fulfilled?”

  She swallowed and looked away. “Now I have no one. I am alone.”

  I went back to my teeth, bored now and ready to move on to the city and the voices that called me. “That is not my concern.”

  She reached for me but I took a step back. “Please, monsieur.” Her eyes begged me to take her in. “I must have you, I cannot take another. Only you can satisfy me now. You know me more than I know myself.”

  My face was as hard as stone. “Leave now. And never return.”

  And then she was on me, fumbling at my pants. “You must take me. You must.”

  I backhanded her and she flew across the garden, landing in one of the bushes before she fell to the ground. And then I was on her, dragging her towards the wall of the garden and pulling my clothes off, throwing them to the ground. She stared at my chest openly and I yanked her head back by her hair, studying the lines of her face, and tore her skirt to the side. She cried out, her body was ready for me, as she involuntarily arched her back, inviting me in. I pulled out the pins holding her hair up and it fell around her face, framing it perfectly. The barest scent of honey filled my nose and I breathed it in deeply.

  “You shall have your every wish, your every desire fulfilled, one last time, and then I will never see you again.” I tore the front of her chaste dress so that I could see her breasts and she cried out. They were perfectly sized and pebbled at the tip. I studied them greedily. I bent to taste them, retracting my incisors so that I did not draw blood. That would be reserved for later. She moaned as I bit and suckled her, opening herself to me. I pushed my senses out, filling her with her innermost longings and then I moved them around her nearly naked body, making her feel everything she should ever want. My senses completely surrounded her, giving her the memories she so easily forgot as a strigoi, and then touched all her places until she howled, satisfied.

  She wept softly, her tears running down her face as I gripped her backside, pulling her up higher and onto me. She was face-to-face with me now, and my eyes bore into hers as I moved inside her. Her cries echoed through the garden as I gave in to my passion. She gripped my back, her nails tearing into my skin as she took all that I gave her. And then I released myself into her. Her body trembled against mine until our euphoria came down. I leaned against her, appreciating the way her breasts felt, still hard against my chest.

  My strigoi still hummed in my body; only blood would satisfy it. I stood back and when she saw my hardened face, she burst into tears.

  “Go now.”

  She nodded, moving away from me. She did not bother to cover herself, but I pitied any living that dared try to touch her.

  I glided through the shadows of the streets, smelling the scent of bodies as I moved among them. The carriages deposited the living at the table of my feast as they gathered to eat and drink, to laugh and to unknowingly invite me into their souls. My strigoi thrummed, eagerly anticipating a satisfied evening and I allowed it to consume my mind. My eyes turned black with need and my senses sharpened, ready for the hunt.

  I followed a group of men up the muddy street. They held glasses from the local watering hole, half-filled with sloshing beer as they danced up the street, their other arm draped around each other. Their voices filled my ears as I stalked them, picking off the most desirable. The one in the middle, his smile brimming to the edges of his face as he sang loudly, caught my eye and I stepped in behind him. The happy ones usually tasted the best, and my feeding would transform their joy into an erupting euphoria.

  My strigoi made my steps silent, my scent stifled and my movements agile. My hunger was all consuming; it flowed through me and I thought of nothing else. I licked the drops of saliva that slid from my fangs as I stalked him unseen. A woman slipped from the shadows and approached the chosen man before I’d decided to make my move, and my craving intensified. Her dress was short, her neckline low and her pulse pounded in my ears. If I could manipulate their movements, then I could partake of both of them.

  My hunter eyes took in her slow movements and her wide eyes as she grinned, showing a missing tooth. A moment before I moved
in, I breathed in deeply to satisfy my anticipation and before I knew it, my back was against the wall and I disappeared into the shadows. I turned my lips up choking on my revulsion, as I recognized the disease that spread through her body. The woman took the man by the hand, his compadres whistling their approval, as the couple paired off into the back alley.

  Women of the night did not bother me, they were usually quite pliant and flavorful, but some of them carried diseases that affected strigoi, making us sick and weak.

  I turned from the men and stalked down the street, cursing the woman. My mood was now depressed, but my strigoi still called for blood, and I would satisfy it tonight. I watched the crowds now with a sense of dulled urgency. They passed by me, uninteresting and boring, but I watched them eagerly, waiting for the right one to perk my interest.

  The night deepened, and the crowd on the streets thinned. I stood by the doorway to the tavern, my need making me desperate. A woman carrying a set of empty glasses walked into the streets and I fell in behind her. My long legs moved quicker, until I was walking next to her. She quickened her pace but I released my senses over her, making her relax and slow her pace. I steered her to the back alley, and she looked up at me, her eyes wide.

  I smiled at her, lust shining through my eyes as hers traveled up my body appreciatively. I pressed her to move against the back wall and she went willingly. No woman could ever turn away from me. Often I didn’t even need my strigoi senses to ensnare the woman. And sometimes, even the men.

  “‘Allo.” She grinned. “Wat we got ‘ere?”

  I stepped closer, my hand trailed up her ample stomach towards her breast. Her dress was simple, and it moved easily as my finger pulled the top down slowly. The glasses she held in her hands crashed to the ground. I preferred to feed from the breast of women. It was usually more tender than the neck and even more satisfying to them. We both derived such pleasure from it, that it was a uniting experience. I liked to enjoy my food.

  I also enjoyed breasts, pure and simple.

  She moaned as my nail circled her, and I bent to my knees, holding her against the wall. My fangs were fully drawn out now and I didn’t hesitate to bite, pulling her warm blood into my mouth. The blood of fuller women usually had a more satisfying taste, as they enjoyed the pleasures from their life. It filled my mouth and my strigoi purred. The woman panted as her emotions tumbled all over the place feeling the euphoria that my venom made her feel.