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

by Fleur Camacho

  “I don’t know, Miss, I told you. We’ve been here all through the night.”

  “All night?” I let him go, considering his words, and he scuttled away. All night, meaning, since Detrand left me sobbing on his doorstep. Everything new in the house was beautiful, but it wasn’t mine. Everything my father ever owned was gone, and I had nothing left that was his. And the workers had been in my home through the night, while my father lay dead in his bed. How could Detrand do this to me? Was it his intention to destroy everything that my father ever touched as soon as he was dead? Did he consider my feelings as much as the earth that he walked upon: a means to an end as he trampled over everything I ever cherished?

  I walked through the city in a daze, unsure what to do next. My father was dead.

  Dead.

  I would never see his smile, or hear his laugh, ever again.

  I wandered the streets, wondering how I would pay to bury his body. Maybe I could sell the house. This thought threw me into a spiral of gloominess. Would I ever leave Detrand’s service? How long would it take for me to pay off my Father’s debt to him? If I sold my house, I’d lose any hope of gaining my independence.

  My mood darkened, as did the sky.

  When I reached the river, I realized that I’d wandered the streets the whole day. The sun had already set, and the moon was full on the horizon. I heard a whistle from down the street and as I looked towards the noise, three boys advanced towards me. The tallest of the three had bright copper-colored hair, and his face held a menacing scowl.

  “Oy there,” they called to me. I clinched my hands to my chest, realizing that I still held my father’s letter clutched in my hand. My only remembrance of him.

  I turned to run, and their raucous footsteps sounded behind me until they were beside me, surrounding me.

  “What’s that you got in your hands?”

  “Is it a gift from your dear old Pa?”

  “Did he lend you some money?”

  They grappled with my hands, but I desperately held them off by kicking and screaming at them. They wouldn’t take my only remembrance from me. “Please.” I cried out, trying to tear myself away from them, but it only drew their laughter. They ripped the top of my dress, and I clamped my hands down over my exposed breasts. One of them grabbed at my letter and it tore from my hands. The others shoved me, tripping me, and I fell into the mud.

  Uncaring now about my torn dress, I tried to chase after them, but they were too fast and they slipped away from me. I tripped again, and I drug myself through the silt on my knees, calling after them.

  Realizing that they were gone, I kneeled down, putting my forehead to the ground. I was no more than the mire I lay in. I had nothing, and no one.

  I looked at the homes that lined the street, many with a soft glow emanating from their windows and I realized that anyone could be watching me. Including Detrand. Surely there were some who’d heard the tussle, tucked away and uncaring, who could have stepped in to help.

  Slowly, I rose to my feet, cinched the front of my dress closed with my hand, and walked towards my new home, the beige-bricked mansion on the hill. My body shook but my mind churned. I was tired of living like this, as a fly feasting off the excrement that was dumped in the street. It was time for me to change my circumstances.

  As soon as the early sun touched the horizon, I dressed and went to the kitchen. My mind was filled with the question on how to bury my father. His body would begin to smell soon, and my only thought was to go to the priest to beg him for assistance.

  As soon as I finished eating, I began to help clean the kitchen, but Phyllis, the main cook for the whole house, began to berate me so thoroughly to get out of her kitchen that I fled from her. I was unsure if she was genuine that she would cut off my hand if I ever touched a bucket or a dish rag in her kitchen again.

  The maids avoided my look and, since I knew not where to begin to help, I determined that I would press them for information as soon as I buried my father.

  Leaving the house, and unable to find a horse to take me to the church, I began the walk towards it. My thoughts tumbled around me, uncertain of my future, but I took my steps deliberately and with measure to feel some semblance of control. As soon as he was buried, I would return to the house and demand that they instruct me on how to help with the chores in the house. I wouldn’t sit idly when there was work to be done, and I would pay my father’s debt.

  In the meantime, I would discover a way to leave the home and find me a husband, or even better, some sort of occupation in order that I could live in my father’s home and provide a living for myself. The house was mine and I had no need of much to live on. When I saw the church on the horizon, I was out of breath, not from the brisk walk up the hill but from the dreams that danced through my head.

  I drew closer to the church and the realization dawned upon me that it was not safe for a woman, especially as young as I was, to live alone in this city. Unless I marked my face and body as to be so ugly that no man would ever want me, I would be a target for the culprits of the town. The thought was tempting.

  Despair threatened to overwhelm me, but I pushed it down. My grief for my father was enough for today and I wouldn’t allow myself to see myself as a victim of circumstance. I was done with that. Determination set in my brow as I considered how I could change my lot in life. If I could learn to protect myself, then I may have a fighting chance.

  Having reached the church doors, I skipped ahead, hopeful with the thought that if I could learn to fight, maybe I could live alone after all.

  As soon as I entered the church, the priest rushed towards me. “Adelade, I was just about to call on you. We’ve been waiting.”

  “I’m sorry. Waiting for me?”

  “Yes.” He put his hand on my back, and gently led me towards the back room. “Didn’t you receive my message this morning?”

  I shook my head as we entered the room and the priest frowned. “I sent a messenger by the house to call you here.” He led me to a beautiful dark oak, wood coffin. It was simple in nature but beautiful.

  “Whose is this?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Why your father’s, of course.”

  “How did this happen?” I stuttered, unable to understand what was staring at me in the face.

  “He never told you?”

  I shook my head. “No, I came here to beg for your help to bury him.”

  “Oh dear.” He put his hand on my shoulder and tried to comfort me. “After your mother passed, he paid for his own in advance.”

  I looked into the priest’s face with shock and amazement. “And the gravediggers? The men to bring his body here?”

  “All paid for.”

  “By my father?”

  He frowned. “Unfortunately no, but Detrand has arranged everything. Everything is ready except for your presence.”

  “Detrand?” My voice came out a squeak, and I cleared it. “How is this possible? He and I never spoke of such things.” My feelings were a conflicted jumble of anger and relief. First my home and now this? Was I never to control my own destiny, but be ruled by the man that made me flush with lust and anger at the same time? And yet, he had taken an incredible burden off my shoulders.

  The priest took a step back, feeling uncomfortable.

  “Why did he arrange for all this?”

  He shrugged. “No one can admit to understanding the ways of that man.”

  “Why did he not tell me?” I had eaten my breakfast and attempted to clean his home, all the while they’d prepared my father’s body for his burial. “I should’ve been here.” Tears threatened to spring from my eyes.

  “I apologize profusely. I will most certainly berate my foolish messenger, who perhaps found throwing rocks off the bay more entertaining than collecting you.” Suddenly his arms were around me, holding me, and he pat my back soothingly. “Dear child, I will miss your father also.”

  I sniffled and looked up at him with tearstained eyes. “You wi
ll?”

  “Of course. Your father and mother both were loved by many.”

  “They were?” A group of young men entered the room and, after receiving my permission, they lifted the casket to take to the grave. I touched the top of it as it passed by, wishing I could speak to my father once more.

  I followed the men outside and in astonishment, there was quite a crowd waiting. I recognized some of the men who worked with my father, but there were also women from the church, some of the widows from the streets, and even some of the high society families. I searched their faces, attempting to determine the true intent of their presence, but all held genuine looks, and even many of them shed tears of sadness at his passing.

  I was so confused. I’d always felt like a pariah in the community, but there were certainly kind looks towards me as I moved in front of the crowd to watch the men lower him into the ground. As I watched the last remnants of my father disappear before me, everything I was worried about disappeared with him and the only thing left behind were my sadness and loneliness.

  I would never see him again, the one person who told me stories as I fell to sleep or keep the candles lit when I was afraid of the dark. I loved him dearly, and I allowed my sadness to wash over me. I opened my mouth to speak as the crowd drew forth and I whispered my final words to him. “Goodbye Father. You loved me well, and I shall live my life to honor your name.”

  The mourners passed me by, their well wishes on their mouths, and some even held me in an embrace. I thanked them all and, once they had all gone, I bade my Father one last tearful farewell.

  Chapter Six

  Adelade

  Determined to provide a way for both Lula and I to obtain security for ourselves, my mind searched every option to procure it. As soon as I entered the house, I searched for Lula, and found her just waking for the day.

  She frowned when she saw me. “Are you okay?”

  “Lula, how much longer before you are expected below?”

  “They won’t be up for another few hours. At least, that has been my experience.”

  I moved to the water in her basin and splashed my face and arms, then I stared into the mirror, determined. I turned to Lula who was watching me carefully.

  I took her hand. “Lula, I cannot live like this, being moved like a pawn on a chess board.”

  She nodded her head, and ran her other hand through her hair. “But what can we do?”

  I leaned in, and she followed suit until we were only inches from each other. “I intend to change my circumstances. To become the hunter, instead of the prey. Will you join me?”

  She hesitated for a moment. Her youth had been different then mine. She’d grown up with more luxuries and had certainly expected to become betrothed to someone of much higher standing. But we were the same in that we didn’t control our destinies. And even though she was a princess in the house of the strigoi, she was still under their control. They could get bored with her and decide that she wasn’t worth the time it took to look at her, and take her life. Her thoughts churned through her mind as she decided what to do. What I was proposing could be very dangerous if we were ever discovered. Women did not determine their fate, or attempt to control their own lives. To even attempt to speak to Detrand regarding my grievances could mean certain death.

  Slowly, she nodded her head and, staring at me in the eyes, she spoke. “I will.”

  I grinned and eyed her clothing. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”

  We sat against the brick wall in the dark alley, watching people walk by on the main street. The moon rose in the sky and Lula began to fidget, afraid that Rowan had woken and was looking for her. I took her hand, stilling her, and she calmed under my touch.

  After a time, I heard his voice and squeezed her hand. He was coming.

  And then I saw him, and both Lula and I stared at him like he was a god walking among man. His shoulders were gloriously wide, with muscles that pressed out from his shirt. His arms were tan, his fingers nimble, as he reached down to a widow and pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. They spoke in quiet tones and I imagined the twinkle in his eye as he spoke to her. They laughed and after a while, he straightened. He made to move towards us and I shifted, ready to approach him.

  His eyes, still filled with laughter, connected with mine and the amusement in them vanished. He turned and began to run.

  Pausing for a moment to stare at Lula in wonder, we bolted from our position and took after him.

  “Landon!” My voice called up the street, but he didn’t stop. He ran through a dark alleyway behind the theater and I followed him. Lula fell behind me and even though I was out of breath, I still continued my pursuit relentlessly. The road emptied into another street and as I turned, a hand grabbed me and pulled me into the darkness.

  He held a knife to my neck. “What do you want?”

  I gripped his hand, trying to push the knife away, but he was too strong. He dug it in deeper, and it pricked my skin.

  His voice turned deadly. “I said, what do you want?”

  Showing him that I had no harmful intent, I put my hands out, and that’s when Lula finally rounded the corner.

  He held the knife out towards her, pulling me tighter to his chest. “Why are you chasing me?”

  She held her arms towards him, trying to calm him. “We just want to talk, that’s all.”

  He pressed his knife to my throat again. “I don’t believe you.”

  I gripped his wrist; it was slick with his sweat. “We mean you no harm.”

  He laughed. “I know that you live with the strigoi now, and I will not be caught in their snare.”

  I clicked my tongue. “I know you’re already caught. You’re in their world as much as we are.”

  Lula stepped forward. “We just want to learn how to fight, in case we are ever attacked.”

  He studied her and after a while he dropped his hand, releasing me. “You could never fight the strigoi. They are too strong, too fast, and too powerful. It would be better to give in to their demands.” He put his hand to his neck and rubbed it softly. “Even if it is painful. Although many times it is not.”

  I eyed him carefully and he dropped his hand.

  Lula pulled me closer to her, and I turned so that we were facing him. “Please, Landon.”

  Lula nodded. “We know that we are weak. But you could train us, and that would make us stronger.” She slipped closer to face him, stared into his eyes and touched his hand. “You could give us a fighting chance.”

  He looked at her, really looked at her, and I knew that he was entranced by her beauty. After a moment of thought, he nodded his head, and a soft affirmation escaped his lips. Lula turned to me, and I grinned at her.

  I mimicked Landon’s steps, stepping in then out. Lula was behind me. Her steps were more clumsy and she had managed to trip both Landon and I at once several times. I wiped at the sweat running down my forehead and tried again.

  This time my legs seemed to move on their own as I leaped across the warehouse. A second later, Lula landed beside me and we turned towards each other, a grin on our face.

  Landon frowned. “The strigoi are ruthless, they will not wait. If your feet stumble, they will be on you. Halt your smiles and keep pushing.”

  He sat to the side of the warehouse that Stefano allowed him to use, while he studied the papers in Stefano’s office.

  Landon was smart, he made himself aware of Stefano’s business in order to protect his family. His father had died several years ago due to a rampaging strigoi, and Landon was always sure to be aware of any situation that may bleed out into the human population.

  Turning my back to him, I made a face, and Lula stifled her laugh, then we moved again, determined to get the steps down.

  “No, no, no.” Dropping the ledger, he went to Lula and took her face into his hands. “You must hold your head steady, like this.” He touched her chin. “Loosen your mouth. Any strength your body offers must be to your feet and your
arms; this is the only way to maintain any advantage over the strigoi.”

  She looked into his serious eyes and a pink blush rose to her face. I studied her curiously and noticed the way his hands lingered just a little at her face.

  He put his hand on her back. “Keep your back in a neutral position so that you can adjust at a second’s moment.” He stood back. “Try again.”

  She closed her eyes, and flowed across the room. I was entranced by her movements. She wove like a ballerina and I longed to be as graceful as she.

  He smiled. “Good.” He turned to me and, noting my careful gaze, he strode to his seat. “Now do it a hundred times, and then you’ll be done for the night. When you return, we will work on the movements of our arms.”

  I took in a deep breath and even though the blisters on my feet called for a rest, I began to move.

  Chapter Seven

  Detrand

  I awoke with a start, just before the sun set, and was surprised to be back in my bed, the smell of Stefano’s person still lingered in my clothing, instead of in the Fae city. How long had it been since I rested here last?

  Rowan was just inside my door. “Master!”

  I blinked at him. “How long have I been gone?”

  “Seven nights. I’ve been trying to enter your room since I heard you stir, but the door wouldn’t open.”

  I growled. “What has happened in my absence?”

  “The shifters have sent their intelligence, as well as the contracts, and have paid the additional tax.”

  And then I smelled her, and my fangs slid out.

  “Some say they have information in the hopes of avoiding paying the higher tax.”

  “Where is she?”

  Rowan raised his eyebrows. “Who, Lord?”

  “Where is the daughter, Bennett’s child?”

  “She’s with Lula, in the sitting room.”

  I moved towards the front entrance, not bothering to change or clean myself. I had to get away, I was too weakened from my time spent with the Fae, and the desire to pounce on her was too strong.