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

by Fleur Camacho

  “Pakka per.” I bowed before him again, refusing the food. The food of the fae was dangerous. Delicious and delectable, and so intoxicating that you spent months in an inebriated state, becoming lost to the real world. I knew this firsthand, and the agony felt afterwards was almost not worth it’s sensual pleasures. But, I had business to conduct and didn’t have time for the euphoric experience.

  He nodded and the food was gone. He gestured towards an ornately carved chair lined with gilded material; its carvings rivaled even my own. It faced his throne, which sat high above it.

  I was in charge of the city, but he was King here in Underhill, so I sat in it. He moved to his throne and, as he sat in it, a servant filled a glass with cherry wine and handed it to him. He offered me a diamond-studded glass but I waved my hand.

  “How may I serve you, Detrand?”

  I leaned forward. “Agosto was ruler over this city, and yet, you tried to buy a section of it.”

  Orin blinked pale blond eyelashes in response. “Agosto made an offer, but I denied the proposal. I have no need for such things.” He spread his hand out. “As you can see, I have enough.” The room grew even more crowded, as people lined up in formal dances. They held their hands out, touching each other in the center, as their feet followed the steps of a complicated dance.

  The fae cannot lie, but one doesn’t need to lie to mislead.

  I stood up and paced the room. “As I remember, you and Orin had an agreeable contract, with the Fae controlling the land south of the city which consisted of the farms and the forest. Just as you desire.” I was behind Orin now, who had not moved from his position on his throne, and I came up to whisper in his ear. “I’m out to discover who killed him. What do you know of this?”

  Orin’s pulse throbbed and I was tempted to bite him just to remind him that even though he may be King over his pitiful little room, I was Agosto’s second, and I was not to sit in any chair lower than him.

  I breathed in deeply, smelling the rotting floral scent in his blood. Too bad partaking of his blood would bind me to him. I had no desire to serve a blood oath with any fae. My closeness was enough of a warning, though.

  Putting his finger to his mouth, Orin tilted his head. “The shifters are suffering. They need an Alpha, not a mere mate to control them. Some of the wolves are clamoring for a new ruler, one that will live with the shifters and be their real Alpha. But they could not do this unless they challenged Agosto head on. Or killed him in his sleep.” He turned to me, and his eyes glowed a soft purple now. “They know of demon magic and how to enter the chambers of the strigoi. Who else could’ve done it?”

  “The shifters have no dispute with the strigoi. If they have any wants, they only need ask.”

  “They may have no dispute with the strigoi, but they have many disputes between themselves. Some wish for a new leader, one who will rule them without any help from the strigoi. They don’t believe that Salina is strong enough to rule them anymore.” He paused to study the woman who was dancing before him, watching as her body slowly swayed to the music. “And there is another. One who wished Agosto dead, so that he may replace him.”

  A soft wind blew on my back, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. A finger ran up my hand and stopped on my shoulder. The hand squeezed it tight and the ghost of the lost whispered in my ear.

  I walked around Orin’s throne and towered over him, blocking the dancing woman from his sight. He shifted his attention back to me, his feet kicking his throne nervously - he wasn’t tall enough for them to reach the floor.

  “Agosto recently bought a couple of ships and sent them to Africa to obtain the riches and jewels there. They say the land is dripping with diamonds and rubies; that you cannot walk up the streets without tripping over them.”

  Orin yawned, putting his delicate hand over his mouth, and that’s when I knew that this is what he desired the most. Orin was too powerful to use my senses to determine his desires, so I had to use other means to discover them.

  “I have caves of rocks that shine when you rub them.” He leaned forward. “What I don’t have, is any interest in Agosto, or any part of his empire.”

  Of course. Now he didn’t. Agosto had died the final death.

  “Then why did you try to buy a portion of the city? Agosto may have offered to allow you to control a portion of the goods that came in, but you wanted more.”

  King Orin stood up and began to walk towards the dancers. The music began to fade and then the scroll at my feet shuffled and the glowing letters on it began to grow brighter. They flew off the page and surrounded me, singing of returning to a peaceful life.

  If I signed the scroll, I would worry no more of the businesses of Agosto. I would be free to return to Italy and enjoy the pleasures that resided there and not have a care in the world. I could take Sophie, and we could renew old bonds. I looked around and the room was empty. It was just me and the paper, a feathered pen in my hands. I closed my eyes, imagining the possibilities. Orin wasn’t a completely evil fae, unless you were one of his subjects. He could rule the city with a fair hand, and the shifters would take care of themselves, most certainly better than I could myself.

  It was a fair trade, and I would certainly be happy.

  I raised my hand, and the ink dripped from the pen onto the paper, marking it.

  Suddenly cold lips were on mine and I was blasted from the paper with a fierceness that could only rival my own and I flew across the room. The pull of the dead called me. The sun was rising, the darkness overcame me, and I slept.

  Chapter Five

  Adelade

  I spent the first night in the corner of my new room, shaking with fear. My hands clasped onto the stake that my father had given me. I gripped it so tight that my hand was beginning to cramp. There was laughter coming from the floor below me and it frightened me to the core. Were they all strigoi? Was this house so filled with the undead that I wouldn’t be able to escape them?

  Was the man from the alley Detrand?

  If so, I would know despair like no other. My lust for him was so overpowering that I meant to flee from him the moment I saw him again. If he even turned his lips in a smile towards me, I would fall under his spell so hard that it would be the death of me. My body warmed with even the thought of him.

  The door to my room opened and I gripped the stake harder.

  It was the strigoi from before, the one who showed me to my room. His eyes traveled to the stake in my hands and he grinned.

  “Have you been in the corner all night?”

  I nodded, unable to speak. I imagined as he took in my shaking and ruffled state, that he saw my frame as weak and my mind frightened. I tried to straighten my back but only managed to poke myself in the stomach with my stake.

  He finally spoke. “You have no need to worry. The master has commanded that you’re not to be touched.”

  My hold on the stake loosened until I realized that he was probably just saying that to make me relax so that he could take me more easily. So I gripped it tighter and pulled my legs under me so that I could easily spring forward if necessary. Then another shadow joined him in the door and my breath caught. It was a human, and I knew her; it was the mayor’s daughter.

  She leaned against the strigoi and he put his arm around her. She whispered in his ear and he nodded and left.

  She entered the room and closed the door behind her.

  I relaxed in that instant; my legs felt like jelly and I was desperate to stretch them. She held her hand to me. “Rise, I will help you up.”

  I grasped her hand and she pulled me up. I almost fell over, my legs were so stiff but she led me to the bed and I collapsed onto it. While she rubbed my legs, I noticed that her dress was new, and the dip in the front so low, that I could see the swell of her cleavage and the ripples of her stomach. She was beautiful, much more beautiful than me. Her face was elegant and her body alluring, and I felt like a broom next to her.

  “Why are you he
re?”

  She looked into my face. “My father owed Detrand, the man who answered your knock earlier tonight, and he couldn’t pay.”

  So Detrand was the man from the alley. “And do you attend to him personally?” The question slipped from my mouth even though I shouldn’t want to know exactly whose blood Detrand drank.

  “I serve at his command.” A flash of jealousy rose in my throat, threatening to choke off my breath. She stood up, pulling me up with her, and she went to the closet and opened the door.

  “You can use any clothes in here, until your’s have been brought.”

  She smiled sweetly at me, and I wanted to like her so badly. If she lived here, she could help me. But she fed Detrand, and I frowned. I was only a lowly servant, not the daughter of the mayor, and I wouldn’t be allowed near him. The moonlight spilled on her, exposing her neck which had been pierced as evidenced by the dried blood. I imagined his hands roaming her body as he drunk from her, ashamed at such thoughts.

  “I brought my own clothes.” I gestured towards my mother’s chest. She opened it and pulled out my clothes. I rushed to help her and we put my things away. “Is this all you brought?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t have much.”

  She looked at me forlornly. “I didn’t bring anything at all.”

  The sadness in her face made me so ashamed that I’d had any ill thoughts towards her, this was obviously not her choice as it had been mine.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I cannot return home, and my mother has not visited.”

  My hand went to hers and I squeezed it gently. “How long have you been here?”

  “Only two nights, but I am to stay for two years.”

  My hand flew to my mouth even as words rushed out of it. “I have no notion that I will ever leave.”

  She looked towards the door and her hand went to her neck. “Nor do I.”

  My hand gripped hers more tightly. “Then we shall help each other.”

  She stared into my eyes, and I saw the tears that glistened there but did not fall. “Detrand has commanded that I’m not be killed.”

  My eyebrows flew up. “And do you believe that they will follow his command?”

  She nodded. “They must.” She turned away.

  My arm went around her to hold her and she leaned into me. “Are you afraid of him?”

  “I…” Her shoulders shook, but I could tell that she was gaining comfort from me. “I don’t think that he would hurt me. But I can’t be sure.”

  “And what about when he drinks from you? Are you afraid that he will lose control?” My heart pounded in my ears, I wanted to plead that she tell me how it felt to be drank from by Detrand.

  She pulled back. “Detrand hasn’t drunk from me.”

  “I thought you said you served him.”

  She nodded, “I am his to command, but he has given me to Rowan, the one who brought you in.”

  I felt an immediate sense of relief that flooded through my body. “And is Rowan controlled?”

  “Yes, he takes great care to stay in control.” Her cheeks tinged pink, and they glowed softly in the moonlight. “And he likes to make sure that I am taken care of also.”

  I was quiet, I think I knew what she meant. “So you like it?”

  She nodded, although I think she was ashamed to admit it.

  “Has he taken you?”

  She looked away, embarrassed. “Not yet, but I think he means to.”

  “And do you want him to?”

  One of her shoulders rose. “Does it matter?”

  “It should.”

  Her eyes grew dark. “It doesn’t. I am not clean. My father took me long ago.”

  I was quiet and the air grew heavy. Finally I spoke. “If Rowan has not taken you, then you are blessed. Let us pray that if he does, you will want it, too.”

  Her eyes rose to mine. “He has been gentle.”

  I smiled at her. “That’s good.” I went to my clothes and pulled out my nightgown. “Will you sleep with me tonight?” I glanced towards the door, and my stomach clenched. “I am afraid.”

  “I cannot. I’m expected downstairs.” She smiled, but it seemed sad. She walked towards my bed and pulled down the blankets. “I’ll check on you when I can.”

  I climbed in, grateful for her kindness and I started to feel sleepy. She began to slip out the door, but I called to her. “Lula?”

  “Yes?”

  I swallowed, I didn’t want her to see my face as I asked this, so I turned away from her. “Does Detrand partake of any of the other humans here?”

  “He stays away from the others.”

  My shoulders relaxed but she continued, “but they say that he partakes of many, and they are afraid of him, so any and all will give to him if he requests it.”

  Fear took hold of my heart again, and I wanted to scream out of the injustice of my life. To desire the man who could have any, or all, of the women he desired. The one that they were all afraid of. The strigoi who would as soon as rip my throat out as look at me. I nodded my head so that she would not know of my devastation. “Thank you.” My voice shook, but she didn’t answer, and the candlelight from the hallway disappeared as she closed the door behind her. I gave into my despair as I wept in the bed.

  The next morning, a pounding on my door woke me. I arose and dressed quickly. My night was dreamless and, since the sun was up, my fears were abated, for now. I left the room and bumped right into the chambermaid who had bloody rags in her hands. “Excuse me!” I tried not to stare at the rags as I made my apology.

  She curtsied at me and I bowed in response. Why was she curtsying me?

  “Er.” I didn’t know what to say, when I noticed what looked like a Page came standing next to her. “Are you the Misses Stainton?”

  “I am Adelade, yes.”

  He tugged on my hand. “You must come to the door. Someone is asking for you.”

  “Someone is asking for me?”

  Thoroughly confused, I followed him towards the door. There were several maids cleaning the house and I had to zigzag through them to get to the door. I noticed Lula asleep on the couch, her skirts pulled high and her bosom falling out of her dress. I stopped abruptly to cover her, and then scuttled towards the door.

  As soon as I saw the boy in the door wringing his hat in his hands, my blood drained to my feet. I gripped the door. “What is it?”

  He shifted his feet, his shoes much too large, and with a large hole in the toe of one. His hair was a bright pale blond and it contrasted with his face, which was beet red. “I’m sorry to tell you Misses. But your Father passed away in the night.”

  Only my hold on the door was keeping me up and I clung to it. “I’m sorry?”

  “Your Father. He’s gone down the river.”

  I nodded, not knowing what to say, or how to react. Last night I sat in misery and fear in the corner of my small silly room while my Father died. Did he call for me, or wished that he’d allowed me to stay one more night? I grabbed the boy’s arm. “Take me to him.”

  The morning air was brisk and I followed behind the boy. “Was he home?”

  The boy nodded and I ran ahead of him. As soon as I arrived at the house, I stopped short, my mouth agape. “What are all these people doing here?” I could hear my own voice raise a level or two higher than usual and it sounded unnatural even to my own ears. When the boy didn’t answer me, I rushed inside and stared in amazement.

  “What happened here?” Most of the rooms had completely been destroyed, save my own, but the men worked diligently to repair or replace everything. The boy, who had followed behind me as I ran from room to room, shrugged.

  “Dunno. Only that we’re to fix everything.” He hooked his thumbs in his pants. “And I was sent to bring you word.”

  With that, I rushed back up the stairs to my father’s room. His bed was untouched and he lay in it, a sheet pulled over his head. My hand shaking, I reached for the sheet. Fearful of what I would see, I la
y my hand on it but didn’t pull it down. The memory of his laughter echoed through the room and I closed my eyes, remembering. It was right. Ever since my mother died, I… Well, things were different, and my father suffered. It was right for him to pass on. He was happy now, although my grief threatened to overcome me.

  “He left this for you, Miss.”

  I swirled, frightened by the sudden noise. It was the boy, and he held an envelope to me. Taking it, I looked down to see my name scrawled in my Father’s loopy handwriting. A tear threatened to spill from my eyes but I wiped at it quickly.

  “It was in his hands.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  He bowed and suddenly remembering my mother’s vanity, I ran from the room. When I arrived at her room, I found it empty. An unnatural sound escaped my mouth as a stabbing feeling shot through my chest. Her vanity, the one and only thing I wanted from her things. She used to sit at it while I brushed her hair as she weaved adventurous stories before she and my Father left for the evening. I’d wished I could be as beautiful as she as I watched her apply her makeup, and she would always hold me in her lap, hugging me tight before she left.

  “It’s okay, Miss.”

  I turned and found the boy’s hand on my arm. “He told us to take it to your room.”

  “What?” I was thoroughly confused.

  “The vanity, and the bed. He told us to take it to your room at the mansion so you could have it.”

  Relief poured through my body and I gripped the front of his shirt. “Who? Who told you to do all these things?”

  “Mr. Trevisan.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know who that is.”

  “His given name is Detrand.”

  I took a step back. “Detrand? That’s impossible.”

  He shrugged. “I only know what I’m told.”

  I gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him to me. He wiggled under my serious stare. “What has Detrand to do with me? With my Father’s house?”

  “I don’t know, Miss.” His face flushed and he struggled to pull his shirt out of my grip. “How long have these men been here, what happened to my house? I was only gone for one night!”