by Ivy Banks
Rock Hard
Royal Vampire Kingdom
Ivy Banks
Copyright © 2019 by Ivy Banks
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permission requests, email [email protected]
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events, businesses, companies, institutions, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Why should the boys have all the fun…?
Contents
Royal Vampire Kingdom Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Also By Ivy Banks
About the Author
Royal Vampire Kingdom Prologue
Many eons ago, the first vampire came into existence when a great warrior named Atticus was given the gift of immortality from an almighty warlock. But with the gift of eternal life came great responsibility. As Atticus developed a thirst for blood, he knew he had to leverage his powers wisely.
Over time, immortality became lonely, and Atticus embarked on a quest to form his own family. Choosing his “children” based on strength of character, fortitude and the ability to navigate an ever changing world for millennia upon millennia, Atticus created a clan that would be able to rule over all other vampires, creating order and hierarchy among them.
The Vampire King gave sixteen worthy humans the gift of everlasting life. The chosen soon became the fifteen princes and sole princess of the vampire world. Together they became the Hanover family.
From these original sixteen individuals, all vampires in the world were created. Though vampires now cover the Earth as rampantly as man and beast, the original Hanover clan remains the most powerful among them.
This is the love story of Pearl Hanover.
Chapter 1
The din in the kitchen was almost unbearable with the clanking of dishes and clinking of glasses, but Pearl barely noticed it, her mind completely focused on the task at hand.
“Pearl, please leave that. I have hired more than fifty servers, so just relax,” Erik Hanover sighed, gently pulling on her arm, but she did not budge from her spot at the stainless-steel counter.
“That is all fine and well, Erik, but sometimes to make things just perfect, you need that personalized touch,” the sweet-faced blonde told him, garnishing another tray with mint leaves.
Erik chuckled and shook his head.
“You are wasting your talents in software programming,” he told her. “You should become a world-renowned chef with all your secrets.”
“Think of this as my hobby, dear,” Pearl laughed. “I would never want to cash in on my passion. It would only cheapen it, I would think.”
Erik smirked.
“I should not have even told you I was having a party tonight,” he replied, leaning casually against the cool metal and watching her work.
“And not invited me?” she demanded. “How rude!”
She did not add what she was thinking; she would happily have sat out an invite. But I think we both know that will never happen, she told herself.
Erik laughed again.
“No, I simply should have sent a limo to the beach house to pick you up under the guise of a dinner date. You always do this when I am having a party!”
Pearl sighed and turned to look at her brother. He was not her brother from birth, but he was part of her family after she became a vampire. Since becoming a vampire fifty years prior, she had a closer bond with her vampire family than with her own biological family. Erik had always been her favorite, though she bristled at his, and the others’ over-protectiveness.
“If you had a woman to prepare these types functions for you, I wouldn’t have to step in, now would I, Erik?”
“Well if you continue to behave as a fifties housewife, what woman would have me, darling Pearl? You obviously put the competition to shame.”
The words, while meant to be teasing, bothered Pearl. She was one of the youngest in their clan and the only original woman. It was bad enough that she was still seeking her place amongst them, but she was held to a higher standard and more protection than the others.
No one else is subject to the “drop ins” and phone calls I am stuck contending with. There is not one other Hanover who endures the scrutiny I face.
She knew that it was all done with the best of intentions to protect her, but truth be told, she longed for a bit of privacy, and to be able to have a normal relationship without worry that her “brothers” would chase whatever guy she was seeing away. As far as they were concerned, there was no man out there worthy of her. She appreciated the sentiment, but was frustrated that they couldn’t see that choosing a man was her decision, not theirs.
“I enjoy helping you,” she reassured him. “You do so much for me. It is the least I can do in repayment.”
“Pearl, I do not want repayment. I want my friend here, enjoying this party I spent far too much on, not stuffing olives with the staff in the kitchen. Have you even seen the view from this place yet or did you rush directly into the kitchen the second you arrived?”
Pearl stifled a sigh and shook her long, blonde curls, turning her dark blue eyes toward the handsome and charismatic billionaire.
“No, I have not seen much of the house,” she conceded.
“Well, we must rectify this at once. When the guests arrive, I may promote you from kitchen wench to hostess. You can do private tours.”
Pearl smiled, removing the apron covering her stunning Vera Wang gown. “Let’s have a look,” she said.
“A designer dress in the bowels of my kitchen,” Erik commented, linking his arm in Pearl’s. “I do not wish to see you back in here again for the rest of the night. If the tabloids get wind of this, I will never live it down.”
“All right, Erik,” she agreed. “Point taken.”
Laughing, the two continued into the stunning ranch-style mansion Erik had recently purchased in the San Francisco hills.
In fact, the party was Erik’s housewarming, not that he needed to make excuses for his desire to spend money. The man was brimming with it and eager to show the world.
“How do you feel about the move to San Francisco?” Pearl asked as he led the way through the house. “Are you missing Beverly Hills?”
“Not in the least, and here is why,” he replied, opening the door to his two-thousand-square-foot master bedroom. The vast open space was punctuated by frosted doors on either side of the room, one leading to the marble-tiled bathroom, the other to the dressing room.
All three exterior facing walls were solid glass. On the far side of the room a single glass door opened onto a sunken sun deck with jacuzzi and firepit.
“Oh, Erik, this is breathtaking,” Pearl exclaimed.
In every house her “brothers” owned, she was incessantly awed by the opulence and luxury in which they surrounded themselves. She had always been more sensible, living in a five-bedroom, three-bathroom beach house.
She wondered if the others ever thought less of her due to simpler tastes. Maybe I never was cut out to be a Hanover, she thought, and not for the first time.
They walked onto the cedar-stained patio and Pearl shook her head in wonder as they stared at the stunning views of San Francisco far below.
“You should consider moving here too, Pearl. It would be nice to have the company of like-minded people,” he said.
In a way, she ha
d been relieved when Erik decided to buy a house in the hills of Northern California. It meant he would be less likely to constantly check in on her when he was “just in the neighborhood.” Her house in Southern California was hours away, even by helicopter.
I have no illusions that the impromptu check-ins will end altogether, however, Pearl thought wryly, but it is a start. They cannot baby me for eternity…can they?
“I am quite content in Venice, thank you,” she answered, smiling. “And you have made it quite clear I am cramping your style with the ladies as it is.”
Erik guffawed and guided her back into the bedroom, past his custom-made double California king and down the steps toward the hallway. How could anyone need a bed that big, she thought –
“I do love how you twist my words. You are the only woman I would want by me if given a choice,” Erik assured her. “The thought of commitment makes me cringe. I prefer to have a little fun, and then move on.”
His inky black eyes narrowed suddenly and his head whipped around to stare at her. “What about you, Pearl? Have you anyone special in your life?”
The question was laced with danger and Pearl knew the correct response without thinking.
What a ridiculous question, Erik, she shot back silently, hoping he would read her thoughts before she spoke. We both know I have no privacy anywhere I go. Yet she sensed he did not delve into her mind. She tossed a careless smile over her slim shoulder.
“Of course not,” she retorted, gliding down the floating center staircase. “Who would have me?”
“No one better have you,” Erik muttered. “You are the last pure thing about the Hanover family, and I would hate for anyone to take advantage of your kind nature.”
Pearl rolled her eyes where he could not see and the two filtered into the front room to wait for the guests.
“Drink?” Erik offered, stepping toward the bar and nodding at the bartender.
“Yes, a glass of red wine would be lovely,” Pearl answered.
She was going to need all the extra courage she could muster to get through the night.
Pearl had finally managed to escape Erik’s watchful eyes and made her way onto the glorious back deck, inhaling the cool night air. If not for the people in her midst, Pearl was sure she could actually be enjoying herself.
The same boring conversations with the same insipid people, Pearl thought, looking about the room blankly. She wondered why she continued to attend Erik’s gatherings, other than her loyalty to him.
She had her own small circle of friends, so she was not in need of the social interaction. While Pearl was wealthy in her own right, Erik was more so, thus his friends tended to be more snobbish, and far more condescending than any of Pearl’s cohorts.
And yet, every time Erik invited her, Pearl could not say no. She worried that if she did not come, he would think something was amiss, and he and the others would then only intensify their overprotective ways, never giving her the space she so desperately craved.
Damn you Atticus for making me the only woman. Would it have killed you to add one or two more into the mix to give me the occasional reprieve?
“You seem to despise this event.”
The statement shocked Pearl as she did not hear the speaker chance upon her.
Her instincts were not as sharp as Erik’s, but she had a good sense for the proximity of others. Yet somehow, she had missed the man who approached her while she wallowed in mild self-pity.
She whirled to look at him and her mouth fell slightly open as she gazed at the attractive stranger. There was something oddly familiar about him, but she reasoned she must have met him at another one of Erik’s functions.
“Why do you say that?” she asked. “Was I scowling? Don’t read anything into that. I have been told that my face is not the most welcoming,” Pearl bantered.
“I wouldn’t say that at all,” he said with some surprise. “I wouldn’t be here if I did not think you looked approachable.”
Pearl’s eyebrow raised and she found herself looking over her shoulder to ensure that Erik was not in earshot.
“Are you on the prowl for approachable women?” she asked, laughingly but also genuinely wanting to know.
“Actually, I am hiding my approachable face,” he replied.
She wondered what he meant, though she had to agree that he certainly had a face that any woman would want to approach.
Despite her tall slender frame, he towered over her, his intense green eyes contrasting with his tan skin and dark hair. Her eyes drifted down to his lean toned body and were drawn to his tattooed forearm.
“The infinity symbol,” She commented. “Interesting choice.”
“I suppose everyone wants to be immortal,” he answered.
Pearl felt her heart stop. She shifted her eyes downward guiltily.
“My name is Lincoln Pembroke,” he offered, sticking out his free hand.
“Pearl Hanover,” she replied, accepting his palm.
Lincoln’s face lit up with recognition. “Ah! You’re Erik’s wife!” he exclaimed with an over-eagerness that betrayed his actual disappointment
Pearl laughed and shook her head.
“No, no. We are… family in an obscure sort of way,” she answered evasively. In fifty years, the question of their relationship had not grown easier to answer.
One of these days, you will be a seasoned liar like Erik and the others, she promised herself but she hadn’t the faintest idea if that was true. She could only hope.
“Oh,” he said, the disappointment suddenly gone. But before he could continue, two half-drunk girls stumbled up to them, giggling stupidly.
“Hi Lincoln,” the taller brunette purred. “I just loved your latest album. Can I get your autograph?”
Pearl glanced at him, surprised.
His autograph – oh, how foolish of me. Of course. Lincoln Pembroke. I know who he is now. How could I have not recognized him? He must think I’m a moron.
He was a world-famous rock star with platinum albums. While his music was not Pearl’s taste, she was surprised she did not recognize him immediately. She’d seen his face on television and magazines, and heard his voice on the radio, countless times.
Perhaps I just never reconciled the two because I would never expect a rock star to seem so…approachable?
“I’m sorry, ladies. I am here on a date,” Lincoln told the women. “It would be rude of me to take my attention away from this beautiful woman. I’m sure you understand.”
The girls glanced at Pearl as if seeing her for the first time, their expressions an identical picture of furious envy.
“Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t mind if we get one little autograph,” the shorter girl replied, sashaying closer to Lincoln, as if taking the words as a challenge.
A spark of annoyance jolted through Pearl who looked at her new companion. His green irises were fixed on her, waiting to see what her next move would be.
Pearl had never been one to stir the pot. She did not handle confrontation well, not even post-transition. Yet an uncharacteristic boldness fused into her spine, possibly because of the brazen nature of the two women, or maybe it was the fact that Lincoln Pembroke was watching her.
He wants to see how I handle this, she understood and Pearl found that she wanted to prove herself to him.
Show him you have a backbone, even if you don’t show it to Erik, Pearl told herself.
“Oh, darling,” Pearl answered in a sugary sweet tone. “Give the little girls their scrap of paper. They will never be this close to you again, after all.”
Pearl turned to the duo, her eyes wide with mock pleasantness and watched their faces grow angry.
“You are so kind, Pearl,” Lincoln cried. “What kind of woman would not mind being interrupted by two insistent fans? This is why I adore you so much.”
“I – I’m sorry we interrupted, Lincoln,” the tall brunette interjected, grabbing her small friend’s arm. “We can come back later.”
They scattered like wounded hyenas, pausing to shoot Pearl scathing looks while Lincoln smothered a smile.
“Sorry about that,” he told her. “Sometimes the nerve of these young girls floors me.”
“No problem,” Pearl replied, smiling. “I think you handled that with a lot of class. That being said, I am sorry that I didn’t realize you were that Lincoln Pembroke. May I have your autograph?”
He laughed loudly, flashing a sparkling array of ivory teeth and Pearl idly wondered if he tasted like mint.
“Well, it is a common name,” he joked, as he took a sip of his drink. “And if you want an autograph, I fear that I am out of paper. I would have to do a skin signing.”
Their gazes locked for a minute before Lincoln lowered his eyes toward her hand.
“You need another drink,” he commented and Pearl found herself nodding.
“I will join you.”
Together, they walked toward the bar, but as Lincoln turned to the bartender, Pearl spotted Erik walk through the double doors of the back patio. He had not seen Pearl yet and from where she stood, he did not appear to be looking for her, but she had to make sure he did not see her talking to Lincoln.
A glass of wine in hand, Lincoln tilted his head to stare at her.
“I’m sorry – I guessed your taste. You seem like a dry red kind of woman. Am I right?”
She smiled briefly and nodded.
“Yes, thank you,” she answered, steering him away from the bar as Erik stopped to chat with a group on the other side of the room.
Drinks in hand, she quickly led Lincoln out of the room. They stepped down toward the second level of the patio where, after a few paces into the darkness, they found themselves alone, surrounded only by the flickering lights of bamboo torches.