by T. S. Ryder
She turned and walked away. Panic flooded Avery’s veins. She needed to do something. She struggled at the bars, but they were built into the walls. She searched the bag, hoping for something to use as leverage, but there was only the soft and malleable gold.
She took a deep breath and turned over her brother’s body hoping he had some tool on him. His skin was cold and she tried her best to avoid looking at the huge gash on his neck. But his pockets were empty. She was trapped.
Forlornly she touched her belly. A smear on the pavement. That was her destiny. She would never give birth to the human vampire hybrid that would reunite the Kingdoms.
Chapter Eleven
He opened his doors and was surprised that Avery wasn’t waiting for him. He had got used to her always being there. But now that she wore the Flower she could come and go as she pleased. He took off his jacket and his boots and moved over to his table, looking for a correspondence. There on the table was the carved box the flower came in.
He smiled when he looked at it, it would bring Avery safety. But as he looked at the box, something shone from the corner, so he reached over and flipped the top up. The necklace was inside, one of the strands hanging out a little bit.
Why wasn’t she wearing it? If she left his chambers without it, there was no protection for her. Something twinged in the back of his head. His instincts were that of a warrior and he knew to trust them.
“Avery!” he shouted. He raced around his rooms, checking everywhere, but there was no sign of her. She wasn't here. Where was she? What had happened? There was no sign of struggle, nothing overturned, no clue of what might have happened to her.
Myrcel, it had to be. There was no one else who hated Avery. Even his father approved of the human.
Storming down the hallway he raced to Myrcel’s rooms, throwing open the door. A maid went scurrying away. But he was too fast for her. He grabbed the girl and held her fast.
“Where is your mistress?” Alastair demanded. She cried out and shook her head back and forth. “Do not make me ask you again.”
“Dungeon,” the girl whispered and he dropped her and raced down the hallway. Every step seemed to take an eternity. It felt like he was trying to run through water. This was a nightmare. One where he couldn’t get where he needed to go fast enough. It felt like miles between him and the dungeons.
He raced down the stairs two at a time and found the dungeon master. He grabbed him by the throat and pushed him back against the cold walls.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
“Who, My Lord?” the dungeon master said. His voice choked as Alastair tightened his grip. “Lie to me and there will be no end to the suffering I bring to you.”
“Please, My Lord. The Princess, she threatened my daughters-”
“Where are they!?” Alastair screamed.
“The lowest level, My Lord,” the dungeon master answered. Alastair threw him against the walls and raced down. Guards got out of their way as he passed, their mouths hanging open.
“Come with me,” he ordered and they all fell in line behind him.
The lowest level, they raced down to the deepest dungeon. This was where they put the real criminals. The ones who they made suffer as much as they could. It was no place for his soft human. She would never survive down there. The door was locked, but one of the guards had a key. He quickly opened it and then stepped into his own fetid dungeon.
“Avery!” he screamed.
“Alastair!” the call was far away. It echoed around the dungeons.
“Find her,” Alastair ordered and the men scattered and began racing through the jail. He called her name again, but there was no answer. Someone must have her and they must be covering her mouth with their hand. The thought enraged him. He would kill that person and rip out their throat with his teeth.
He raced towards where he last heard her voice. He came around the corner and there was Myrcel. She looked at him furiously, baring her teeth.
“You go too far, Myrcel!” Alastair screamed, vibrating with rage.
“I go too far? You bring this human peasant into your bed. You give her The Flower of the Court. You would have her sons replace mine and I am expected to do nothing! Bearing an heir is my right.”
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“The prophecy! It decries that the human who will lay with the Vampire King and bear a son that unites the empire.”
He pushed past her. There in the cell was Avery. A strong vampire woman had her hand around her throat.
“I am the Crown Prince, I order you to release her,” the woman’s eyes travelled between him and Myrcel and then fell on the dozens of guards who had gathered around them. They were whispering to each other, the words son and prophecy echoing in the room. Finally, the female vampire released Avery.
Alastair threw the door open and she ran to him. He grabbed her in his arms and glared at his wife.
“We are done, Myrcel. Prophecy or no prophecy, Avery is the only woman who will bare my sons.”
Myrcel gaped at him, her mouth hanging open as Alastair hurried Avery up the stairs.
Epilogue
The Fire Islands were beautiful. The shores were white sandy beaches backed by blue ocean waters. The interior was a thick jungle. Everything burst with life. Fish practically jumped into fisherman’s nets. Fruits dripped with succulent juices, falling from the trees when they were ripe.
To Avery, who had spent her life in dirty back alleys and old caravans, it was a paradise. Alastair put her in a house right on the beach for her confinement. Every morning she woke to a strong ocean breeze blowing the heat away. She strolled the beaches, her feet sinking into the sand. Servants met her every need as the baby grew inside of her.
In a few months’ time, they would return to the palace, but the Vampire Princess would no longer be there. In his infinite kindness, Alistair had given a gift to Myrcel—Castle Deep Stone. It was located seven leagues to the north of the Severed Lands, buried deep in the northern mountains. When he, Avery and their child returned, the Vampire Princess would be long gone.
Alastair had no trouble putting down the small uprising of the Fire Islands. The rebels put up only a paltry fight and the people were happy to see them defeated. By the time the baby was due, he was back from his campaign and sleeping beside her.
It was a moonless night when her contractions started. She gave birth to their son in the bungalow with the roaring sea behind them. A beautiful, perfect boy they named Brandon.
With the birth over and her eyes heavy with sleep, Avery watched as her Vampire Prince held their little baby in his arms. He was so gentle and delicate with Brandon and Avery allowed her eyes to close knowing that he would permit no danger to befall them.
“Our son,” she heard him whisper and her heart swelled.
*****
THE END
Contemporary Romance Collection
The Mobster's Secret Baby
Description
“Without manners, we all turn into animals,” he said.
“And what’s wrong with animals?” she whispered.
Sylvia
All my life I’ve been on my guard, looking over my shoulders because my dad’s a mobster. And now he has made me a prisoner in one of his friend’s homes. Fedor Volkov, the big Russian mafia boss.
I expected a cold-hearted monster, but he’s sexy as hell with a beard that sets my belly on fire. He stands for everything I despise, yet I can’t stop thinking about him. I want him to be the one to take my virginity. Especially since that would royally piss off my dad.
But I got way more than I bargained for...
Fedor
Every two years I take a vacation in my holiday home, alone. But this time, Will Stern has begged me to take in his daughter and protect her against his enemies. I couldn’t say no. Will is one of my best friends.
I didn’t expect her to be all grown up, though, a sexy young twenty-three-year-old with endless l
egs and a cleavage to drive me mad. But I can’t break the code, I am her guardian. I know I should stay away from her, but it’s almost like she’s out to make me fall.
How much longer can I resist?
Chapter One - Sylvia
“I don’t understand what the need for this is!” Sylvia stood aside while her father threw open the doors of her cupboard and started flinging clothes into a large duffle bag that he had brought with him.
“Think of this as a vacation, sweetie,” Will Stern said, barely looking at his daughter while he continued the task at hand - packing his daughter’s belongings.
“A vacation? I don’t need a vacation, dad! I just got done with college. I need to find a job.” Sylvia took a few steps in her father’s direction, trying to follow him around the room, but he now laid an arm on her dresser and just swept all her makeup and boxes of little trinkets into the bag. Sylvia shrieked with fright.
“Be careful with those, dad!” she yelled, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He had only one thing on his mind, and he didn’t look like he was going to take a break.
“I’ll get you a job when you come back. It’s just for a couple of weeks. It’ll be a nice break for you, after all the hard work you’ve put into your studies. You’ve never been to Puerto Rico,” Will said, finally zipping up the bag. He thought he had packed everything, but Sylvia had already made mental notes of all the stuff that he hadn’t put in - her shoes, the scarves, her prized collection of perfumes.
“Okay, dad,” she said softly, hoping that a gentler approach might work better. She walked towards him as he stood bent over the duffle bag and put a hand on his shoulder. Will Stern whipped around with a crazed look in his eyes.
“Dad, I thought those days were behind us,” Sylvia asked, the color rising in her cheeks. She was so tired of this. All her childhood had been spent running away, hiding, always looking over their shoulders to see if they were being followed. It was what had killed her mother. All that nerve wracking will to survive, to live. Her father had been a small-timer then, he worked for someone else, one of the Russian mob bosses. But now that he had a gang of his own, his own security, his own source of income, Sylvia thought that those days of looking over their shoulders were over. That their lives were never going to be in danger anymore.
“It’s never truly behind us,” Will said, sitting down at the edge of her bed with a thump. He looked exhausted.
Sylvia put her hands on her hips, standing with her legs apart. She could feel the rage rising up her shoulders, she was exhausted too. When would she ever be able to lead a normal life?
“You have the money now, dad. You can pay off people. Frighten them…I don’t know what. You can do something. You don’t have to run away!” Sylvia breathed in deeply, nearly pleading with her father. She didn’t want to leave New York. Not when she was just beginning her job hunt. No matter what promises her father made, the kind of work he’d find her was not the kind of work she wanted to do. She wanted to get away from the mob world, away from the world of money laundering and thugs and stories about people getting killed or beaten to pulp for not paying their dues.
Sylvia wanted to lead a normal life, work at a startup, have a regular desk job, get a cat.
“I’m not running away. You’re going to Puerto Rico by yourself. I just don’t want you to get caught up in this. I don’t want your life to be in danger,” Will said, running his hands through his closely cropped dark curly hair. Sylvia noticed the graying of his sideburns. She hadn’t realized before but her father was getting old. But this didn’t mean that she wasn’t still angry with him. For trying to snatch a normal life away from her, again!
“Well, I’m not running away either. I’ve had enough of this. I’m staying right here. What the Hell am I going to do in Puerto Rico of all places?” Sylvia folded her arms across her chest, and then she saw the shift in her father’s eyes. He was determined. She had seen that look in his eyes very often in the past. She knew it scared people, but it didn’t scare her. She looked back at him directly, defiantly.
“You’re going. You’ll be staying with my friend. He owns a mansion there. He’s on holiday there and he’s agreed to take you in for a few weeks. You’ll be safe with him.” Will stood up from the bed and picked up the duffle bag up. Sylvia could feel tears bubbling up in her eyes, from the rage. She knew she had lost the fight. There was no convincing him now.
“I know what all your friends are like. They are all like you. Dirty criminals. You’re all alike. You’re all disgusting!” Sylvia screamed after her father as he left the room, expecting her to follow him as he went.
Sylvia clenched and unclenched her fists, she stamped the floor repeatedly, and then breathed out deeply to calm herself. This was not going to work. Her father would eventually get his men to physically drag her to his waiting car outside if he had to. Her struggle, her reasoning was useless.
So instead, Sylvia just opened her cupboard again. She pulled out one of her Louis Vuitton bags and started stuffing in the shoes her father had forgotten to pack, and then her scarves and her perfumes.
Just a few more weeks of this life, she told herself as she packed. Then it’d be over. Then she’d be done with this life and would start afresh. Maybe she’d leave the country. Maybe she’d move to London or Sydney or somewhere else where her father couldn’t hunt her down. Sylvia could feel the blood boiling in her veins, but she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do about it now.
Chapter Two - Fedor
Fedor Volkov swirled the glass of Scotch in his hands. It was only midday, but he was on vacation now, so he allowed himself the treat. Back in Chicago, he didn’t take his first drink before all the day’s work was done, not before midnight. He needed to be thinking straight at all times.
He definitely needed this break. Puerto Rico was good for him. His mansion was isolated, well-guarded and he never invited any of his friends or associates along. A few weeks at his getaway meant just that: a getaway. In complete isolation. It gave him somewhere to think, to actually think.
But Will Stern might have spoilt it all. He had called on his direct line the previous night, sounding crazed, afraid. If Will sounded afraid, it had to be something big. He nearly begged Fedor to hide his daughter, to give her protection till he could sort out this gang war. Fedor couldn’t say no, he couldn’t say no to one of his closest friends. Will and he had both risen through the ranks together. Will was an outsider, he wasn’t Russian, but he had the guts to play with the big boys. They always had each other's backs, and this poor girl didn’t even have a mother anymore. He couldn’t possibly say no.
“Boss, she’s here,” he heard Pyotr’s voice say in Russian behind him.
“Bring her in,” Fedor replied and folded one leg over the other, sinking a little further into his leather chair.
He heard the clicking of heels on the marble floor outside, and he immediately had an impression of Will’s daughter. She definitely walked with a lot of confidence. He hadn’t met her since her mother’s funeral. She was only twelve then. She was twenty-three now, practically a grown woman.
Pyotr opened the large oak doors of his study and Fedor looked up from the glass in his hand. When she walked in, she brought with her a sharp all-encompassing scent of her perfume. It was unmistakably musk, but a gentle feminine musk that tickled his nostrils.
Whatever image of a twelve-year-old little girl he had in his head went hurling out of the window. Sylvia Stern was a woman now and what an absolutely gorgeous one she was, at that.
She walked directly towards him, with her back straight and taking large quick steps in her high heels. She didn’t need Pyotr to make introductions or show her the way.
Her skin was dark, shining in the natural tropical light streaming through the windows of the room. Her hair was just like her father’s, tight dark curls and she kept it open like a halo around her head. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown. Her lips were thick and luscious and she had
painted them in a rich plum red. She wasn’t dressed like a regular twenty-three-year-old either. She was in a slim pencil skirt with a white silk blouse tucked in. This girl had style.
Fedor stood up out of courtesy, but she didn’t seem pleased.
“I’m Sylvia Stern. My father sent me here to be your captive.” She stuck out her hand towards him, taking him by absolute surprise. Fedor stared at her, and then at her hand, his mouth hung open a little. He was expecting a spoilt brat maybe, or a meek little girl, someone more like her mother, her late mother who was afraid of her husband’s job. Fedor had met Cassandra a few times since he started working with Will, and he had always felt sorry for her.
But their daughter was nothing like either of them, and he wasn’t expecting this.
“My captive? Is that how you look at it?” Fedor shook her hand, clasping her small hand in his and giving it a rough quick shake. He was about to offer her a seat, but Sylvia sat down across from him on the empty leather chair without his invitation.
“What else is it? He forced me to pack my bags and then sent me here with guards. It wasn’t my choice, which means I’m a captive.” Sylvia crossed her long slender legs. Fedor allowed himself to look for a moment and then he immediately looked away. This was inappropriate, she was his friend’s daughter. He shouldn’t be staring at her perfect body, but he couldn’t help it.