Sever the Crown: Vampire Reverse Harem Complete Series

by Mysti Parker

  “I would be very inclined, especially if the pay is right.”

  “Two fifty.”

  “Five hundred.”

  He adjusted his necktie and twisted his mouth from side to side, considering the offer. “Four hundred.”

  “Deal.”

  “Good. Shall I escort you to the stage?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  I came around the table but stopped and leaned close to Charles. “We’ll continue this conversation when I’m finished.”

  He gently grasped my fingers. Electric pulses danced up my arm and intensified the buzzing sensation in the symbol on my skin. I could feel his confusion, his fear and desire. He smelled like brushed leather and expensive cigars mixed with exotic spices. Already, a vision of me gripping a headboard had wedged itself into my mind. The fucking would be slow and deliberate. He’d take his time, wanting to savor me, bringing me to the brink again and again until he’d nearly driven me mad with the need for release. Then he would finally put me out of my misery, and it would be incredible…

  “We should go,” he whispered, his gaze flicking toward the doors.

  I was sorely tempted to drag him into one of the restrooms and fuck him stupid, but my ’59 Thunderbird’s (aka Birdie’s) tank was nearly empty. Gas money trumped sex for now.

  Reluctantly, I pulled my hand from his. “When I’m finished. Just stay put.”

  With a full-body shiver to shake away my baser instincts, I followed Vinny to the stage, but paused by Ashe, who was still sulking on his stool. A foamy blood cocktail sat half drunk in front of him.

  “They want more songs, so it’s time to show off those drummer skills,” I said.

  He shrugged. “It’s been a while.”

  “I have total faith in you.” I kissed his cheek. “Grab Zac, will you?”

  Ashe nodded. Some of the hurt melted from his face, replaced with a smile that warmed my cold, dead heart.

  Detective Zac Palmer was getting cozy with a pretty red-haired DBD who was on break at the other end of the bar. They were all smiles and laughs. Ice clinked in his cup as he finished off his drink. I was sure his Jack and Coke helped him to relax, but it stung a bit, seeing him let his guard down enough to have fun with another human when he was all Mr. Business with me.

  But why not, right? Humans are meant to be with other humans after all. And the way some of these DBDs disappeared into the dark hallway with some of the patrons told me they weren’t all getting paid just for their blood. Thankfully I cared more about this gig than draining her high-priced Type B positive blood supply.

  Applause rang out as I ascended the steps and took my place at the taped-up microphone. Ashe and Zac soon followed. Ashe settled on the squeaky drum throne and picked up the drumsticks, scowling as he wiped whatever nastiness coated them on his jeans.

  Zac produced a harmonica from his pocket and leaned in to whisper, “I have no idea what we’re playing, nor do I have any music, so…”

  “Just follow my lead.” I plugged my guitar into the ancient amplifier again and turned it on. After turning a couple dials and testing a few notes, I settled on a nice mellow sound.

  I smiled out over the audience, deciding on an easy-to-play, yet eerily appropriate song for the current situation. “This one is a Janis Joplin hit, originally recorded by Erma Franklin in 1967, but Janis made it famous in 1968. It’s called ‘Piece of My Heart.’”

  About half the faces in the audience lit up. I was counting on some of them being old enough to remember that era. Of course, the vampires could very well be old enough to remember the birth of blues music.

  I turned to the guys, “E major, got it?”

  Zac gave me a thumbs-up. Ashe nodded. I played a quick E blues scale riff to get the audience and my little band warmed up. It didn’t take long for the guys to get the rhythm, though they were still a bit stiff with stage fright. Once heads were nodding and toes were tapping, I started singing. I channeled the late, great Janis’s throaty, bluesy sound, letting my fingers do what they did best on my guitar between every verse. They found the notes instinctually and made love to the strings.

  I ventured a look at the guys, happy they were getting into it. Ashe smiled from ear to ear, and Zac had loosened up again. The man could really move when he wanted to, and he played the hell out of that harmonica.

  It was oddly satisfying to have something in common with those two. I found myself hoping that Charles was musically inclined as well. Unfortunately, I could only see the top of his hat from his seat at the corner table. Two bouncers stood in front of him, arms crossed, while Vinny stood near them, holding a clipboard. He tapped it angrily, arguing between the bouncers and Charles.

  Zac slid me a warning look as we closed the song.

  The audience clapped, with some giving us a standing ovation and others tossing money onto the stage. No doubt some of the alcohol the DBDs had consumed had gotten to the vampire patrons and loosened their pockets. But the situation brewing with Charles had totally killed my mood.

  Vinny spun round and stalked over with one of the bouncers in tow, then waited for me at the bottom of the steps. I put my guitar on the stand and came down to meet him. Zac and Ashe flanked me on either side, ever my guard dogs.

  “What seems to be the trouble?” I asked innocently.

  “Your friend over there has a huge bar tab,” Vinny said, shaking his clipboard in my face. “And he refuses to pay.”

  “He’s not my friend.”

  “Really? You seemed awfully chummy a few minutes ago. And he says he’s your manager.”

  “My what?!”

  “Your manager. And he says he has no money. So, you either pay up, or you’ll have to perform to pay his bar tab.”

  “No, that wasn’t the deal.”

  The bouncer, a seven-foot giant vampire with a harelip scar, squared his feet, rubbing one of his fists as though he couldn’t wait to cram it into our faces. Zac’s hand slowly drifted toward where his gun would be, but then his fingers curled into a fist when he remembered he had to leave it at the door. The bar had a strict no-weapons policy.

  “That is the deal,” Vinny growled, his once-timid orange eyes turning bright red. I guess Vampire Mr. Rogers had a temper after all. “Twelve hundred dollars. That’s what he owes. So now you owe us three nights of performances.”

  I looked over at Charles, who smiled and waved back at me. He sat with one booted foot propped leisurely on his knee and picked his teeth with a toothpick as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “That son of a…” Ashe whispered and started past me.

  I gripped his shoulder and shook my head. He groaned and crossed his arms, glaring across the room at his nemesis.

  “Fine. We’ll play. But one night. That’s it. My manager can wash dishes to make up for the rest of it.”

  Vinny shook his head. “Charlie Ford is a habitual liar. Completely unreliable. You can all wash dishes tonight after closing.”

  Charles stood from his seat, his smile replaced with a scowl. “Don’t call me Charlie!”

  The bouncer that remained by him pushed him back down in his seat.

  “I’d really hate it to get ugly in here,” I said. “Call off the dogs.”

  A few of the soberer patrons started clearing out, keeping their eyes on us as they slipped through every door they could find. They could feel the tension building just like I did. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. The symbol on my arm pulsed with an uncomfortable burn.

  “Agree to the terms, and I will,” Vinny said. His voice had taken on a deep, ominous tone. I wouldn’t want to be Vampire Mr. Rogers’s neighbor after that.

  “No deal,” Zac said, scratching the back of his neck.

  Then I noticed his fingers were working their way beneath his punk rock black wig. I’d bet Birdie that he had a weapon of some sort under there.

  I rested a hand on his forearm to keep him from doing something stupid, but there was something else brewing
besides this bar tab standoff. A chill ran through me like a thin layer of ice spreading beneath my skin. Every sense I had went into hyperdrive. Heavy footsteps thundered closer from outside the bar.

  My fangs emerged. “We have trouble.”

  “You bet you do,” Vinny said, waving his clipboard in my face.

  I smacked it out of his hands and got right in his face. “No, I mean bigger trouble than a bar tab. You need to take cover. Now!”

  His eyes lost their angry red, growing wider as he realized I was being serious. The bouncers ushered him away.

  No sooner had he and the bouncers slipped into his office than the lights went out. People burst into the bar. They came through the main door that led aboveground and from a door down the hall. The few patrons who remained screamed and took cover under the tables.

  In a split-second, we were surrounded. There were five of them. My night vision kicked in. Two had the distinct blue aura of vampires. The other three were undoubtedly human. One of them carried a familiar smell that had burned itself into my nostrils.

  Ashe and Zac positioned themselves in front of me on the stage. Charles slipped behind the bar and ducked down. Was he hiding? Fated mate or not, I wasn’t about to let a coward anywhere near my vajayjay. But I had to focus. Since streetlights didn’t reach this underground bar, it was pitch-black inside. I knew Ashe could see and figured Charles could as well, if we could count on him.

  “Zac?”

  “I’m good.” He turned his head and met my gaze with an odd green glow in his eyes.

  “Night vision contacts?” Ashe whispered. “No way.”

  Zac chuckled and twirled whatever he held in his hand like a mini baton.

  I pointed to the redneck advancing on us with two silver knives. “That one’s mine.”

  “You got it.”

  The redneck reeked of the usual rotten fish and old blood and to my delight, fear. “Just come with us, and no one gets hurt.” His voice trembled, but he tried to sound brave, poor thing.

  His two redneck companions remained behind him. One held a silver net. The other held a shotgun, pointed right at me. Their fear was almost palpable. Shotgun couldn’t hold his weapon still enough to shoot the side of a barn. The three of them just stood there. A trembling trio, waiting for their vampire companions to do the heavy lifting.

  The vampires—two females—advanced, fangs bared. Even though I knew they could rush us a lot faster than the humans, they crept along. They had probably been warned about us. For good reason.

  Charles stood up from the bar. “Well now, if it’s not Sylvia and Sophia. Long time no see!” He spun two wooden stakes in his hands like a nunchuck maestro.

  One of the vampire women snarled at him. “You pig. Thought you said she got away. Looks like we’ll have to kill you this time.”

  She looked a lot like the other one—blonde with dark roots, both wearing tight red body suits and black leather jackets.

  “Pity we can’t end tonight like the last time we met up here. But I’m in a committed relationship now.” He tossed me a wink.

  I smiled back, almost ready to grant him access to my vajayjay...if we managed to survive.

  I ripped the taped microphone from the stand and tossed it aside. It was shit anyway. Then I broke the pole near the bottom and pointed the jagged metal end at the rednecks. With my other hand, I beckoned them to come on.

  Shotgun fired, but I didn’t even dodge. It hit the amp, which sparked and cracked and caught on fire. No loss there. One of the vampires rushed Zac. The wand thing he held streaked out a blinding white laser and hit her dead in the eye, bursting it like a water balloon. She shrieked and leapt backwards. Charles impaled her on one of his stakes. She sputtered up blood then disintegrated into a gooey mess.

  The three redneck musketeers flipped over a table and cowered behind it.

  "Aw, come on now, you're missing all the fun!" I called out to them.

  One of them raised his middle finger from behind the table. Idiots. They'd die soon enough.

  Charles flung the nasty remains from his weapon. Her sister blurred into Zac, knocking him off the stage and onto a table, which broke from their weight. She reared her head back, fangs extended, but Ashe leapt on her in the next split-second. He grabbed her by the hair and threw her across the room, where she smacked against the wall and slid down it. A deer head fell and landed on her lap, making her look like a deer in red spandex.

  The sprinkler system kicked on thanks to the burning amplifier. Water blinded me, so I wiped it from my eyes.

  The rednecks took advantage of my momentary distraction and stood up from behind the table. Shotgun fired again. This time it hit me in the side. I cried out.

  Silver bullets. Damn. They burned like hell. The one holding the net threw it at me, but I knocked it away with my makeshift mic-stand spear. He couldn’t take any more and ran out the front doors. The few patrons left hiding under tables sped out behind him.

  Sophia—or Sylvia?—threw the deer head off her lap and scrambled to her feet. She started for the doors, but Charles planted his feet and hurled a wooden stake at her like a spear. It sank into her back, and she melted into a puddle of goo.

  Ignoring the pain from the shotgun blast, I blurred off the stage and knocked one of the silver daggers from my target’s hands. He slashed out with the other one, slicing into my cheek. I grabbed his arm and gave it a violent twist. The shoulder socket popped. He howled in pain and dropped to his knees. Shotgun aimed at me again, but Zac ninja-kicked the weapon from his hands. Ashe closed in on Shotgun and knocked his feet out from underneath him. Charles caught him and broke his neck in one quick movement. The guy fell like a sack of potatoes.

  The lights flickered back on.

  In case they went out again, I wanted to make sure Knife-Boy knew exactly who I was. His was the next name on my list. I knelt in front of the still-howling redneck and pulled off my wig, then quickly popped out my contacts. He clung to his shoulder and trembled with terror, finally meeting my gaze. I remembered those eyes, the same ones that shined with unmitigated pleasure when he sawed off my mother’s head.

  “Y-you were dead,” he sputtered.

  “Oh, I know. I’ve heard that several times recently. See, the thing is, my mother is dead. And I watched you kill her.”

  “Y-your m-m-m…”

  “Mother, yes. Bronwen was my mother. Do you know what that felt like, being eight years old and helpless while watching my mother’s head being cut off?”

  He shook his head. “I’m s-sorry.”

  “I bet you are. But unfortunately for you, I’m not helpless anymore.”

  I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, exposing the pounding pulse on his neck.

  “Don’t kill me,” he begged.

  Pitiful. Useless.

  “Wren, you don’t have to…” Ashe started.

  I slowly raised my eyes to his. He had to understand that I couldn’t share this earth with anyone who had taken part in my mother’s murder.

  He nodded and stepped back. “Just do it quickly.”

  Not hesitating, I sank my fangs into the redneck’s carotid artery and gulped down his nasty, hot blood. But before he took his final breath, I grabbed one of his daggers and stood. Holding him up by his greasy hair, I sliced right through his neck until blade hit bone. The knife wasn’t strong enough to saw through anything. So, I snapped his head clean off.

  Screaming with vengeful rage, I threw his head against the mirror behind the bar. Glass shattered, along with a few liquor bottles. Ashe came close and took my hand while Zac retrieved my guitar from the stage. I let myself meet Ashe’s gaze, immediately overwhelmed with the love I found there. Why couldn’t I be as solid and steady and merciful as he was?

  Charles cleared his throat. “Hate to break up your little Twilight moment, but you may want to look at this. I found it under the bar when I got the stakes.”

  He held up a blood-splattered flyer, but then Vinny and the b
ouncers poked their heads out of the office door.

  Charles waved the stakes at them. “Thanks for these. Smart to keep them on hand…just in case.”

  Vinny slowly emerged, grimacing as he sidestepped the head I’d ripped off. “Are you really her? Her daughter, I mean?”

  I smiled, realizing why he and the bouncers had hid and not intervened. “Yeah, and you can call Ravana back and tell her she’s going to have to send better minions than that if she wants to catch me. Oh and…” I gestured around the trashed bar. “I think we’re even.”

  To punctuate my point, I walked up to Charles, grabbed him by the collar, and kissed him hard on the lips. His eyes were wide as Moon Pies when I pulled back.

  The pain from the silver shot that had lodged in my side would soon become unbearable, but I couldn’t show any weakness until we were somewhere well away from here.

  “Let’s go. I need a looonnnggg, hot shower.”

  Chapter Two

  Charles

  My dad once told me I thought too fast. Too loudly. That if I wasn’t careful, I would broadcast my next move, put people off with my “colossal intellectual faculties.” His exact words. The guy was a walking thesaurus.

  So to blend in a little better, I stopped voicing every single thought, pretended I hadn’t plotted five steps ahead of everyone else, even though my thoughts still ran like mad.

  Now, though, while those lady hips of Wren’s punched the air on her way out of the Stake and Dagger, her body flowing like whiskey, my brain shorted out for only the second time in history.

  Done. Toast.

  The first time it shorted out was when I met her. Okay, “kidnapped” her if you wanted to get “technical.”

  Everyone thought she was dead. The permanent kind of dead. Not kissing me like she had a second ago. Not walking away from me. Not with a voice that could peel away the hardest layers of the darkest hearts. Definitely not branding me with a tattoo on my wrist that made me part of the true queen’s royal harem.

  I didn’t quite know what to make of that, but damn if I didn’t feel honored as fuck.

  She disappeared out the door with Ashe and the guy with the black punk hair that reminded me of a yoga instructor I used to know, and I turned back to the bar, my brain coming back online again in a surge of plans within plans within plans.