Sever the Crown: Vampire Reverse Harem Complete Series

by Mysti Parker

  “By the way, is that your ugly ass Camry?” she asked.

  I popped my head up over the refrigerator door. She had adjusted her position, so she now sat cross-legged, which offered me a shadowed view of her inner thighs and underwear. I could imagine pulling them down her legs with my teeth…until she covered her lap with the towel.

  “No, it’s not.” I sank back down behind the refrigerator door. Fuck. This little wannabe queen was putting thoughts in my head that had no business being there.

  “Good. No mate of mine is going to drive that piece of shit.”

  “I’m not your mate.”

  “Yet.” Wren’s fangs glinted in the security lights as she flashed a wicked grin. After I fed Duke, I rejoined Wren in the living room, and once again glanced up toward Grandpa’s loft. Still no change.

  “I can’t let you go,” I said. My tattoo pulsed, in full agreement. My aching head, on the other hand, disagreed.

  “Sure you can.” She uncrossed her long legs, hiking the towel up her thighs, and grinned. “I’ll even make it easy on you and open the door for myself.”

  I let the quiet linger between us while I sat back down and studied her. She didn't seem fragile, but that didn't mean she wouldn't go hysterical either. This had been too much for Grandpa, and he’d always been larger than life to me, an unshakeable force.

  "So you're just going to stare at me, then." She nodded.

  "You said you liked the view. I’ve already seen it."

  "So I did." She licked her lips, and I growled low in my throat. "Are you going to make me guess who’s up there?"

  I sighed and gestured up to the loft. "My grandpa is here."

  Her eyebrows shot up. "That's what you were stalling to tell me? Well, with a bombshell like that, I can see why you'd kidnap me and never let me leave."

  She had a smart mouth. I had the sudden urge to fuck it. That idea boiled underneath my skin and fused with my anger at her.

  "He's a seer," I said.

  "Of the future?"

  I nodded. "He can predict people’s devastations, the bad things in life. About four weeks ago, he saw a vision that put him into a vegetative state."

  She sat back and winced. "I'm sorry to hear that. What was the vision?"

  “Me. My tattoo.”

  “You knew what was coming.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that it?” she asked. “That’s what put him in a vegetative state?”

  I leaned forward and gazed at her intensely while the minute hand shifted forward in my periphery. "He also saw the end of times."

  "What?" Her voice was barely an exhale. She paled and swallowed hard. “What?”

  "The question you should be asking is when."

  "Okay…” She squirmed in her seat, trying and failing to blink the horror from her face. “When?"

  "A week from today."

  She wilted against the back of the couch. "H-has you grandpa ever been wrong?"

  "Not once. He said this vision was so catastrophic, so real, that I don't think his brain could fully process it. Nothing will revive him to his normal vampire state." I’d tried everything. Doctors, healers, and no one could bring him out of it.

  “She’s dangerous,” he’d said, and those had been his last words.

  “Not once,” she repeated. Covering her mouth, Wren jumped up, but winced as she limped to the window and stared out at the glowing cityscape beyond the large clock ticking down our dwindling time left. "And the cause?”

  I watched her silhouette, and I almost felt sorry for her. "You.

  Chapter Three

  Wren

  The orange cat wove himself around my legs, purring so loud, he vibrated. Little traitor. I guess it wasn’t his fault that his owner made him an unwitting spy. Without thinking, I picked him up and held him. Maybe he knew I was upset. I mean, it’s not every day you hear the world will end because of you.

  “How do you know it’s me?” I asked Hawk once I could speak past the tightness in my throat. “Did he name me specifically?”

  “He said the one who was chosen for me. With this thing…” He held up his arm. His tattoo pulsed with a soft blue glow in the dim room. “I can only imagine he means you.”

  The cat kneaded his claws on my arm—a painful but sweet show of affection. He bumped his head against my cheek then propped his front paws on my shoulder as I stroked his soft fur.

  “How are you doing that?” Hawk asked, one eyebrow arched high.

  “Doing what?”

  “Holding my cat.”

  “He’s not exactly heavy.” I turned away to peer out the clock window. Hawk’s fine red wine eyes were mesmerizing, so hard to look away from. But I had to keep up the tough queen act for now.

  “He hates everyone but me. And I do mean everyone. Even Grandpa, even though he loves the shit out of the little killer.”

  I shrugged as Kitty rubbed his head against my chin and licked my cheek. “We became friends back in the bunker. I assumed he was Margaret’s cat. I’ve never even had a pet, except for a few strays I took care of while we were in hiding.”

  “Wow.” One side of Hawk’s mouth curved upward while he shook his head.

  “What’s his name? I’ve been calling him Archie.”

  Hawk grimaced as though that name tasted like rotten blood. “It’s Archduke of Devastation III.”

  My eyebrows shot up.

  “Duke for short,” he added. “Named by Grandpa.”

  “He seems more like an Archie to me,” I said and gave the feline a nice scratch under his chin. Eyes closed in kitty bliss, he jutted his whiskers out and purred.

  “Huh?”

  “It fits him better. Makes a better nickname too. Archduke, so Archie.”

  “Yeah, okay, whatever. You do you. So, help me understand who I’m dealing with here. You claim to be Bronwen’s daughter.”

  “I am Bronwen’s daughter.”

  “Well, you look like her, but that doesn’t mean jack shit. How did you survive while she didn’t?”

  “I don’t know. Lucky, I guess.” How many times would I have to prove my identity? My shoulders slumped under the weight of my heritage. I didn’t have the physical or emotional energy to recount the night my mom died to Hawk. Not yet.

  “We’re not going to get anywhere unless you start talking.”

  Just then, I remembered that I had to fulfill my end of a very important deal, or risk burning in eternal hellfire. At the moment, I wasn’t sure which was worse. My ankle wasn’t healing as quickly as I would like. My eyes burned from all the grit stuck behind my eyelids. My hair was matted, my shirt muddy and still damp. Everything ached, like I’d been tossed around on the heavy-duty cycle in an unbalanced washing machine. But I still had to hold up my end of the bargain. I wasn’t one to go back on my word, especially when it involved a powerful as all-get-out celestial like Angelo.

  “Tell you what. Let’s make a deal,” I said.

  “This isn’t a game show, Princess.”

  “It’s Queen, but I’ll forgive your slip of the tongue this time.”

  He leveled a stare at me that brought on an image of him pleasuring me with his tongue. It sent a flare of heat through my tattoo and into my core.

  I smiled and focused out the window again. “I’ll give you all the fucked-up details about my past if you’ll help me get something.”

  “Like what?”

  “A license.”

  “You drove that Thunderbird of yours without a license?”

  “You’ve been following me for a while, huh?”

  He nodded but didn’t elaborate. His eyes flicked to the side before meeting my gaze again. I knew that gesture. Hawk had too many secrets to keep a straight face. We had that in common, at least.

  But the mention of Birdie pinched my cold, dead heart. It had been far too long since I’d had a nice drive. Too long since I had sung and played my electric guitar to the tune of a tipsy audience and a few hundred bucks. My old life,
as lonely as it had been, was more predictable, more comfortable than this new life I’d inherited.

  Archie wiggled and pointed his head to the floor, so I set him down. Brushing the cat hair from my T-shirt, I suddenly felt the need to see the man who’d predicted I’d destroy the world.

  “Can I see your grandfather?” I asked.

  Hawk rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Are you crazy?”

  “Depends on who you ask. But I’d like to see him. He’s a man you obviously have a great deal of respect for. I’d like to pay my respects to him as well.”

  “He’s not dead.” His gaze swept down my body and back to mine.

  Goose pimples prickled across my skin. I shivered to rid myself of the sensation. This desire thing, while I’m sure would be wonderful in better circumstances, was a real pain in the ass now that I faced death on the daily.

  “I know that. And I won’t hurt him. I’m sure you wouldn’t let me even if I tried.”

  “Fine. But only if you’ll elaborate on what the fuck you want from me. And…you know, not end the world and stay out of my way so I can do my job.”

  This guy must have really loved his job. A rare quality these days. “I will. Once I see him.”

  Hawk growled and rose to his feet. His size would be enough to intimidate pretty much anyone. Including me, but I sort of had the bluff on him, so I had to keep up appearances.

  “Okay then, you go first,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Gladly.” Of course, he wouldn’t turn his back on me. Smart man.

  I limped to the stairs and started up.

  Hawk cleared his throat. “Are you…hurt?”

  “Nothing a little time won’t heal. But yeah.”

  “Ankle?”

  “That, and everything else, but I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

  We reached the top of the stairs, which opened to a windowless studio apartment that reminded me of my father’s church tower home. Except this one was much better furnished. Funny how a member of the royal family had a much shittier place to live than a killer for hire. This place was fully insulated against the sun, with air conditioning too.

  A kitchenette with a small oak dining set took up one side of the apartment, complete with stainless steel fridge, microwave, and sink. It was quite a bit smaller than the full kitchen downstairs but still functional. A nearby stereo played soft classical music.

  “Nice setup. I imagine this isn’t the type of place that would be advertised on Apartments.com.”

  Hawk grunted. “Helps when you know people.”

  Across from the kitchenette was a set of bunk beds and a worn leather easy chair. In the bottom bunk lay a man with a blanket tucked neatly up under his arms.

  “Is this your grandpa?” I whispered.

  “Yeah, but you don’t have to whisper. He won’t hear you, or if he does, he won’t respond.” Sadness tinged his voice, pulsed through my tattoo, and branched out until I felt its full weight.

  Perhaps that’s what made me take Hawk’s hand before I even realized what I was doing. He stared down at our joined hands as though he feared I might poison him before his face softened into something like gratitude, but only for a second. I gave his fingers a gentle squeeze then walked over to the bed where his grandpa lay. The older man’s short black hair was peppered with gray. Wrinkles webbed out from the outer corners of his eyes and formed deep lines on his forehead. Every couple seconds, his mouth twitched while his eyes roved from side to side under his eyelids. Was he having terrible visions in his sleep?

  Hawk retrieved a chair from the dining area and brought it over to the bed. “Sit. Get off that ankle.”

  “Thanks.” I did as he ordered, thankful for the kind gesture, despite the prickly delivery.

  He crossed his arms and leaned against the bunk bed frame. “Uh, sorry about the accident. I didn’t plan on that.”

  “I figured as much. What’s his name?”

  “Phineas.” Hawk stiffened as I lay my hand gently on his grandfather’s forehead and closed my eyes.

  A memory bubbled up. It was Mama lying on an old mattress in the basement of an abandoned house.

  I remembered how she’d sat up from drinking the blood of a homeless man who’d been sleeping down there. She licked the blood from her lips. I had leaned down to drink from him as well, but she grabbed my shoulder. Her hand shook as she wiped her mouth, her yellow eyes wide with panic as they suddenly turned bloodshot.

  “Don’t drink, Wren. It’s bad.” She looked around the floor nearby and went rigid. I followed her line of sight to where a half dozen syringes and an open baggie of white powder lay partially hidden behind an old coffee can full of piss.

  Not two seconds later, she had fallen into a stupor, convulsing and sweating uncontrollably. It terrified me. I thought I would lose her then. But I sat beside her and did the only thing I could think of - sing. It helped ease her convulsions until she finally came out of it.

  The memory faded. I blinked to rid myself of it.

  “He’s clammy,” I said. “Can you get me a cool, damp cloth?”

  Hawk hesitated a moment, flicking his red eyes between his grandpa and me, before he finally strode to the kitchenette and wet a dishrag in the sink. He never took his eyes off me while he wrung it out and brought it back.

  He handed it over and stood right next to me while I folded the rag and lay it across Phineas’s forehead. Then I sang the song I sang to my mom that night so long ago, now recognizing the irony of the lyrics.

  “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” The wrinkles on his face smoothed out somewhat while his frown relaxed a little.

  Hawk crossed his arms, regarding me with a puzzled look. “How did you know that would help?”

  I shrugged. “Experience.”

  “Thank you,” Hawk said, his gaze soft and loving as he looked down on Phineas. There he was—the real man peeking out from behind the hardened façade of a trained killer.

  “Is it just you and him?”

  He nodded. “Ever since Pop and Mom were killed in Ravana’s takeover.”

  I thought of something then. “You and Vincent seemed to know one another.”

  He huffed a laugh. “You think all black vampires know each other?”

  “What? No, I—”

  “Vincent’s my brother. I think you’ve also met our sister, Annie.”

  “Your sister? Isn’t she human?”

  “Stepsister. Our parents divorced, then Pop married Annie’s mom when Annie was just a baby. Interspecies marriages weren’t common, but Queen Bronwen gave them her blessing.”

  It still felt strange hearing someone referring to my mom or me as queen. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it.

  “I take it you and Vincent aren’t close anymore.”

  Hawk shrugged. “You could say that.”

  He strode to the kitchenette again and retrieved a pouch of blood from the refrigerator. He poked a straw in it and brought it to me. I guessed we hadn’t reached the point of him warming up dinner for me yet.

  “Here, this will help you heal faster.”

  “Thanks.” I drank some. The cold liquid hit my stomach and made me shiver.

  “So, about that license?” Hawk asked, resuming his cross-armed position leaning against the bed frame.

  “Well, since you asked. I have a friend whose license was suspended. He made a deal with me. He’ll give me something very special if I can get his license back.” Maybe Angelo’s lucky feather could grant a wish that I wouldn’t end the world.

  “By friend, you mean one of your mates.”

  “No. I mean a friend who helped me. Now I must help him in return. But since I have no friends in politics or the government, I’m at a loss as to how to get his license reinstated. You seem like a man who can pull a few strings. Or am I wrong?”

  “I have a f
ew friends in high places, but if this guy has too many DUIs or a hit-and-run on his record, it may be a lost cause.”

  “It’s none of those things. So, help me get his license reinstated, and I’ll give you all the information you want. Maybe we can even help your Grandpa somehow.”

  “Yeah, good one. We’ve tried all the best healers and doctors we could bribe.”

  “My mates are smart. Especially Marlowe. They may know something we don’t.”

  Hawk arched an eyebrow and scratched his head. “Fine. I’ll get your friend’s license back one way or another.”

  A big commotion from down below echoed up the tower. Several sets of footsteps pounded up the stairs.

  Hawk drew his gun. “Let me guess.”

  I smiled and hummed the tune to that old song by the Angels, “My Boyfriend’s Back…”

  Chapter Four

  Hawk

  "How did they find this place?” I rushed down to the living room from the loft, checking the magazine in my Glock and snapping it back into place.

  Wren raced after me, two strides to every one of mine. "They surprise me daily with how smart they are sometimes. But put the gun away. This isn’t a job where you can just shoot everyone."

  The footfalls drew closer up the clock tower.

  As I faced off with the door from the middle of the living room, I saw Duke had already made it up to the loft. He hated loud sounds. Hated almost everything except food.

  "How do you know they didn't bring backup?" I asked.

  "Backup like who? The Royal Knights? Yeah, probably, which doesn't change a thing since they just want me safe.” She spun in front of me, putting herself between me and the door. “Put the gun away."

  The first spark of fear I'd ever seen from her ignited in her yellow eyes. She genuinely cared for her mates. Did she care for me, too, or would she if we even survived the next week when the world ended? I'd never made time for romantic relationships. Since Mom and Pop died, I'd looked out for Grandpa, and between him, Duke, and my job, there wasn't any time left. I preferred it that way. Other than my crippling headaches, my life was like the perfect kill—clean and with zero regrets.