Age of Vampires- The Complete Series

by Caroline Peckham

  “There you are!” she exclaimed. “Erik says he’s going to show us how to play with his little balls.” She burst into a fit of giggles and Erik sped out into the corridor, snaring her in his arms.

  “That is not the way I phrased it,” he said with a laugh.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked in confusion, a smile pulling at my lips even though I didn’t understand the joke.

  “Chickoa has a pool table and I thought we could play,” Erik explained, pointing at the door Magnar and I were blocking.

  I looked up at Magnar pleadingly. Though I ached for his body, I couldn’t resist the offer to spend some time with my sister and Erik together. I’d hardly had any time to see the two of them interacting as a couple and the wide smile on her face set my heart singing with joy. Happiness had always been something we’d had to work hard for and the idea of us having this one night to just have fun together was something I couldn’t say no to.

  “Fine,” Magnar growled, penning me in against the door as he gripped the door handle. He leant down so that his lips were brushing my ear before continuing in a low tone. “But when I do get you to myself, I’m going to torment you just as you’re doing to me right now.”

  He pressed a kiss to my lips as the door fell open behind me and only my grip on his shirt stopped me from falling back into the room.

  We moved inside, finding a huge green table waiting for us with a bunch of brightly coloured balls arranged inside a plastic triangle.

  “I’ll show you how to play,” Erik said as he grabbed a wooden pole from a rack next to the door.

  We watched as he removed the plastic triangle then used the long stick to knock the balls into little pockets hidden around the edges of the table.

  “What is the point of this?” Magnar asked with a frown as he scooped a red ball into his grasp and turned it over with interest.

  “No point. It’s just meant to be fun,” Erik admitted. “But we could make it a little more interesting if you want?”

  “How?” I asked.

  “For each ball one of us pockets we can give a forfeit to the opposing team.”

  “Okay,” Magnar moved to grab one of the wooden poles and I followed him to claim my own.

  I turned back to find Erik draped around my sister as she leaned over the table and he tried to show her how to pocket the balls.

  “I have an idea,” I said as I headed towards them. “Girls versus guys. You two can see what you’re up against when me and my sister team up.”

  Erik sniggered. “That hardly seems fair; we’ll beat you too easily.”

  “Hey!” Montana exclaimed indignantly as she nudged him away from her with her hip. “You’re not going to beat us.”

  She moved to my side and I grinned at her as I twisted the stick in my hand.

  “That’s not a baton,” Erik said with a laugh and I could tell he thought he had us beaten already.

  “Oh, you’re going down, Belvedere,” I threatened and Magnar laughed as he headed around the table to join Erik.

  “You asked for it,” Erik growled. He rearranged the balls and stepped back with a mocking smile. “Ladies first.”

  “Go on, Callie,” Montana said with a hiccup and I wondered just how much wine she’d consumed. My own head was still fuzzy with the intoxicating beverage and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted another drink.

  I stepped forward, bending over the table as I slammed the stick into the white ball. It crashed into the others way too hard and bounced up into the air and over the edge of the table, rolling away on the wooden floor as Erik and Magnar laughed behind me.

  I turned to scowl at them as Montana cheered.

  “We win!” she announced excitedly, pointing at the green ball which had somehow ended up in one of the pockets.

  Erik shook his head in denial. “You don’t just win by pocketing any old-”

  Montana planted her hands on her hips and frowned at him. “Are you too chicken to face the forfeit?”

  “No!” he laughed. “But you’re supposed to-”

  “I got your little ball in the pocket!” I said adamantly and he sighed in defeat.

  “Fine, I guess this will just be a free for all then. But stop calling them my little balls.”

  “Why are you so touchy about your little balls?” Magnar mocked and I couldn’t help but snigger in response.

  “I’m not,” Erik protested. “And they’re not - Rebel, tell them-”

  “You want me to tell them about your little balls?” Montana teased and I laughed harder.

  Erik’s eyes lit with mischief and he gave in. “Fine. What’s the forfeit?”

  I glanced at Montana conspiratorially.

  “We should make it harder for them to beat us,” she suggested. “Drink another bottle of wine each.”

  “I see fighting dirty runs in the family,” Magnar teased as Erik shot of the room to retrieve the wine.

  He returned in a flash of motion, knocking into a side table as he re-entered the room and sending a lamp smashing to the ground.

  “Whoops, Sorry Chickoa,” he muttered as he handed Magnar a bottle of wine.

  Magnar pulled the cork out of it with his teeth and the two of them clinked the bottles together before tipping the contents down their throats.

  Magnar nudged Erik’s arm, making him spill some of the wine down his chin as Magnar raced to finish his bottle first.

  Erik batted him off, guzzling his own wine as he drove his elbow into Magnar’s ribs, forcing him to pull the bottle out of his mouth with a laugh before he could continue drinking it. Erik finished his first and Magnar cursed at him half-heartedly before tossing his empty bottle into the corner where it smashed.

  “Oh, whoops,” he said, noticing the mess he’d made.

  “Ever the savage,” Erik mocked and Magnar laughed as if he thought that was a compliment.

  I crossed the room to retrieve the white ball and pressed it into Magnar’s hand with a smile. His eyes were alight with the heat of the beverage as he accepted it.

  Magnar moved to the pool table next, lining up his shot before making the same mistake as me and using too much force behind the strike. The balls scattered across the table and Montana and I cheered as he failed to send any of them into the pockets.

  “This game requires subtlety,” Erik chided as Montana moved forward to take her shot.

  “That’s not really my strong suit,” Magnar replied with a smirk and my heart lifted a little as Erik smiled in response. They were acting almost like friends. And if there was even the slightest hope of them becoming something like that then it would make everything so much easier for me and my sister.

  Montana lined up a shot and managed to pocket the pink ball as I whooped in response.

  “This is not turning out the way I expected,” Erik grumbled.

  “Arm wrestle!” I announced excitedly for their forfeit.

  Magnar smiled wickedly as he placed his elbow on the table and Erik reluctantly followed suit, clasping his hand.

  “This isn’t exactly an even match,” Erik grumbled. “The Blessed Crusaders were designed by Idun to be stronger than us-”

  “Stop pouting about it,” I replied with a laugh. “Be a good sport and the two of you can race next time we win so that you have the advantage instead.”

  Magnar chuckled and his grip on Erik’s fingers tightened as Montana reached forward, placing her hand on top of theirs.

  “Three, two, one-” She removed her hand and the two of them locked their muscles in place as they fought to win the contest.

  I eyed Magnar’s bulging bicep with heat rising in my veins as the seconds dragged on. With a sudden spurt of movement, Magnar slammed Erik’s hand down onto the table and a huge crash sounded as the strength of his blow made the leg buckle beneath it.

  I sprang back as the pool table collapsed to the wooden floor and the balls rolled in every direction.

  “My little balls!” Erik exclaimed and
I fell about laughing as we all ran from the room like a bunch of naughty children.

  I guessed Chickoa was going to be wondering why the hell she’d invited us all to stay come morning and my laughter doubled as the effects of the wine warmed my heart with amusement.

  I dropped down onto the couch and pulled Montana into my lap with a slanted grin, my head fuzzy with alcohol. I'd always been able to handle my drink even back when I was human, but I was definitely drunk right now and I suspected Rebel was too.

  “Enjoying the party?” I asked, tilting my chin up to brush my mouth over hers.

  “Feels good to let loose,” she sighed, pressing her forehead to mine.

  “I think I want to eat you.” I kissed her neck and she shifted back from me with a laugh. “I want a Rebel sandwich.”

  “That sounds like a snack,” she pointed out, her eyes dancing with light. “I can be more than a snack.”

  “You'd be a whole meal. Five courses. Mostly I'll focus on dessert.” I glanced around her with a smirk, finding the others perfectly busy drinking and playing more games. “Let's go somewhere else...I'll sneak a knife and fork out of the kitchen,” I suggested, sliding my hands up her thighs.

  She caught my wrists with a mischievous smile and I groaned, resting my head back on the sofa.

  “No...I've decided it's not acceptable,” she giggled, dropping her head against my shoulder. “You can't eat me.”

  “You know I don't really want to eat you, I want to f-”

  “Heeeeey, Erik! Come dance!” Miles shouted at me from across the room.

  Montana rose from my lap, pulling me up after her. “Go join them, I'm gonna talk to Callie.” Her hand slid through mine and she headed across the room to join the slayers. My eyes followed the curve of her hips and a smile hooked up my mouth.

  I glanced around the room, searching for Fabian but I couldn't spot him.

  I headed toward Miles, knocking into the coffee table as I went and swearing between my teeth. My brother was dancing with Warren, his eyes glazed as he turned to me and slung an arm around my shoulder.

  “Have you seen Fabian?” I asked.

  “Yeah he walked out of the room a minute ago,” Miles slurred.

  I frowned. “Did he say anything to you before he left?”

  “Na.” He shrugged. “Oh actually, he said...um...he said something like he's sick of everyone hating him, he's tired of everyone thinking he's a selfish prick and er...something about Chickoa never forgiving him.” Miles grinned, swaying slightly and I braced him.

  “Shit,” I said, pulling away from him but Miles caught my arm, turning me back to him with wide eyes.

  “Oh wait a second...do you think that's why he left?”

  “Yes Miles. I think that's why he left.” I shook my head at him, looking to Warren. “Get him to drink some water.”

  Warren nodded, but half closed his eyes as he started waving his arms in the air to the beat of the music. I scanned the room and spotted Clarice dancing near Julius while he perched on the edge of an armchair. I beckoned her over and she joined us, dancing all the way to close the gap.

  “Do you mind getting these two to drink some water? I need to find Fabian.”

  “Sure, is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Fine, Fabian's just upset. I'll go talk to him.”

  She tip-toed up to peck me on the cheek. “You're a good brother. And you're so tall. Look how tall you are,” she cooed and I had the feeling she was pretty inebriated herself.

  I headed back across the room, knocking into the coffee table again with a curse. I headed into the hallway, trying to listen for any sounds of him but the music was too loud to hear anything.

  “Fabian?” I called, then spotted the front door open a crack. I pulled it wide, finding Fabian sitting on the porch with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

  “Where'd you get that?” I dropped down beside him, eyeing the label. That bottle was worth a lot of money.

  “Found it in the kitchen at the back of a cupboard,” he said with a shrug.

  Considering he looked miserable as fuck, I decided not to point out that Chickoa might not have wanted him to take it. Instead, I snatched it and took a sip, a delicious note of oak and honey rolling over my tongue.

  Fabian grinned and it was possibly the first time I'd seen him smile since we'd arrived here. I knocked my shoulder into his playfully. “You're missing all the fun.”

  He sighed heavily. “I just can't see eye to eye with the slayers. Magnar and I have nothing in common. Except the fact we're both in love with the same woman.”

  I frowned. “You love her?”

  “Well...I think so. I don't know, my head's fucked since I got here. Seeing Chickoa makes me want to rip my heart out and give it to her just so I can make up for what I did to her. And now I'm confused because I thought my heart wanted Callie, but with my ex here...” He shook his head.

  “You don't really know Callie, she's only started opening up to you recently,” I said gently.

  “I know,” Fabian sighed and a war seemed to be contained within his eyes. “Sometimes I think I just want to love someone so much, that when she showed up I felt like the gods had chosen her for me. I didn't have a Courtier for the wedding ceremony. And there she was, beautiful and feisty and mine for the taking. She looks the complete opposite to Chickoa and I guess that became my type so I could forget about her. I just wanted to make it work so badly...”

  My brow furrowed as I gazed at his pained expression. “And what about now? You feel different now you've seen Chickoa again, right? I know how much you loved her, Brother. It was as clear as day to me when I saw you together all those years ago.”

  Fabian nodded weakly. “That was love. I know that. And I think...after I turned her and she cast me aside, I lost that part of myself. I stopped treating women with respect. Maybe I was always a heartless shit because I did the same thing to the only woman I'd ever loved in the end. I turned her against her will, Erik.” He gazed at me intently. “What kind of person does that?”

  My chest hollowed out as I stared at him. “I know it didn't come from a bad place, Fabian. As much as you want to see the darkness in yourself, there's so much good in you if only you'd let it out more often.”

  “Do you think Chickoa can ever forgive me?” he begged, his eyes watering with his desperation.

  “I think you need to try and right the wrong you did to her. But her forgiveness depends on her own feelings.”

  “I'm so fucking screwed.” He tipped the bottle into his mouth and started downing it.

  When he reached half way, I tried to grab it from him, but he jumped to his feet and headed down into the yard. I ran after him, missing the final step as I moved toward him and crashing into him.

  He dropped the bottle and it smashed to pieces.

  “Oh fuck...sorry,” I said.

  Fabian awkwardly kicked some dirt over the shards. “No, I'm sorry.” He hung his head.

  I caught his shoulders, shaking him. “You need to get your shit together! Go sort it out. I know you can.” I gripped his face with both hands and his lips puckered as I held him too hard.

  “But what if I can't?” he said through his pursed lips.

  I released him, a laugh rolling from my throat and he tentatively joined in.

  “You can,” I urged. “You're a Belvedere. You fuck up shit and then you make it right. That's what we're great at.”

  “That's true,” he said hopefully. “Montana hated you at first, didn't she? How did you make her love you?”

  “It's not about making anyone do anything, Fabian,” I said, my mirth dying away as I remembered how Rebel had once looked at me. Like I was a plague on the Earth. “But...I let her in, bit by bit, I tried to show her that I wasn't the asshole she thought I was. And to be honest, I was an asshole. But somehow she made me a better man. She brought out a side to me I'd long forgotten.”

  “That's what Chickoa did to me once,” Fabian sighed. “A
nd Callie helped me remember it now too. In a fucked up way, the bond the gods put on us made me realise how much I'd been missing. How much I'd given up by burying my emotions so deep for all these years. I want to love again, Erik.”

  “You will.” I gazed at him with my heart softening in my chest. Fabian usually opened up to me more than our other siblings. We'd always had each other's backs even though we hadn't always seen eye to eye. The past few months I'd been so convinced he was my enemy, but now I felt sure we were finally getting back to normal. I wanted him to make peace with the slayers and find someone to love again one day. He deserved to be happy.

  I pulled him into a fierce hug. “I miss being like we used to.”

  “Me too.” He clung to me. “When I saw you sparring with the slayers earlier...I got so jealous. It was stupid. But you're my best friend, Erik. And they're taking you away from me.”

  “Never.” I shook my head, jabbing my finger into his chest and he staggered back a few steps. “We'll always be brothers. But Fabian, they're not so bad. We spent all those years hating each other, but we never exchanged any words besides threats up until now. And after being forced to spend time with Magnar, I came to realise that we all did bad shit to each other, but we aren't bad people.”

  Fabian nodded as my words slid over him. “Magnar and I can't see eye to eye. Not after what's happened with Callie.”

  “Well...I know you have your issues with him, but why not try talking to Julius then?”

  “I could do that,” he agreed, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

  I clapped my hand on his back, steering him toward the house.

  We headed indoors and returned to the lounge where the music was thumping louder than before. Clarice was grinding against Montana and I smirked at the sight of them moving in time to the beat. Magnar and Callie seemed to have forgotten they had an audience as she straddled him in a chair.

  I shoved Fabian toward Julius who was staring at Clarice and Montana, taking huge bites out of a sandwich. I followed Fabian across the room and it took Julius a second to notice we'd approached.