Sever the Crown: Vampire Reverse Harem Complete Series

by Mysti Parker

  The camera flashes were blinding. Reporters and photographers swarmed in, pressing against the iron bars like a media orgy. At least a dozen arms reached between the bars with microphones pointed at me.

  A deluge of questions came next.

  “Miss Songsmith, did you plan a nuclear attack?”

  “Did you kidnap the queen’s mate?”

  “Are you related to the late queen Bronwen?”

  I held up my hands to quiet them. “Ladies and gents, the only thing I can tell you is that the real traitor to the Southern Vampire Clan is the one who currently wears the crown. I am Wren Delacroix, the only surviving heir of Queen Bronwen. And I’m here to take back the crown her sister stole from her after orchestrating her murder.”

  Pandemonium ensued as the media nearly trampled one another to get in. A frenzy of questions and camera flashes flew at me. I squinted and shielded my eyes. The vampire reporters could have probably broken through the gate. Perhaps that was against protocol or something. Like a pirate code.

  Marlowe joined me to the tune of another round of flashes and questions. He raised his hand until the roar dulled a bit. “All of you wait here. We will give you more answers very soon.”

  He took my hand and guided me back to the group, where he whispered something to Talia. She smiled and nodded.

  A half-dozen vampire Knights, a witch, and three warlocks along with me and four mates would have seemed intimidating to most people. Who knew what kind of army my aunt had with her though?

  She had planned an ambush. We’d follow along. For now.

  The big white door to the sanitorium was at least ten feet tall. My Knights surrounded me, then my mates behind them, with the quadruplets guarding the rear. We all wore sleek black armor that looked like sexy leather bodysuits. The quadruplets had enchanted the armor with a spell that was supposed to protect against any direct magical blast.

  It was the first time they’d tested it, but I figured it was better than nothing. Just call me Wren, vampire queen, bar singer, and guinea pig.

  I banged my fist on the door. The sound echoed through the building. “Bring him out. We’re waiting!”

  I could smell Ravana and her mates. And Zac – I’d recognize the scent of his blood anywhere. It carried a subtle hint of fried chicken. I just hoped he could hang on a little longer. If we got to him in time, it was possible that we could get him a blood transfusion and heal him with some of our blood.

  Ravana’s voice rang out from somewhere within. “No, you bring Alessandro in here.”

  Smiling, I realized she had probably seen the camera flashes through the windows. I had to bargain with her a little, though it meant some lying on my part.

  “You have more to lose than I do, Auntie! You’ll never make Zac your mate. I don’t care what tattoo you put on him. He hates vampires. And he’ll never be loyal to you.”

  She didn’t take the bait like I’d hoped. “But he’s right here for the taking. Just leave Alessandro inside and take your weak human. He tastes like a cheap date anyway.”

  The door opened slowly, into a large, dark foyer with leaves and trash blowing across it. Graffiti covered the crumbling plaster on the walls. Stairs climbed up both sides of the room and met in the middle at a pitch-black balcony.

  And in the dead center of the foyer sat Zac, still tied to a chair, his head slumped, unmoving. His blood had turned his white tux shirt red. For a moment, I feared he was dead, but I could see a very faint red heat signature. He wasn’t far from gone. Just like the night I had found his wife bleeding to death.

  I swallowed hard to tamp down the guilt. No one else was visible. No other heat signatures, either.

  The Knights circled in front of me.

  “I don’t like this,” Vincent said, both hands gripping the guns at his sides.

  “Bring Alessandro up here,” I called back to Hawk before yelling into the dark corridor, “We get Zac first, then we leave your Spaniard.”

  “Do it, then. What are you waiting for?” Ravana answered.

  “Estoy aquí mi flor de papa,” Alessandro cried out like a desperate lover in a Shakespearean tragedy. Cordero would be proud.

  “She’s your potato flower, huh?” Hawk said with a chuckle.

  Alessandro glared at him.

  “Have they hurt you, my darling?” Ravana called out from wherever she was nesting.

  “Only my heart in being away from you!” His Southern accent came through that time.

  Hawk pushed the Spanish wannabe along until they joined me at the door then gave a little nod. The plan was to get Zac out of here and kill Alessandro before Ravana got hold of him. Vincent and two other Knights eased across the threshold with me right behind them.

  Zac lifted his head and opened his eyes, locking his gaze on mine. “Wren?”

  “I’m here. We’re getting you out. Just hold on.”

  He shook his head. “Why did you kill her? Why did you kill my wife?”

  The questions stirred up my guilt until it spilled past my courage. This was the last place I wanted to have this conversation, but he deserved to know the truth. “I… She was dying. I was trying to be kind.”

  “Wren, be quiet,” Hawk whispered.

  Tears streaked down Zac’s face. “You killed her. I saw you.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Did you enjoy drinking her blood?” His voice cracked, shattering my dead heart into more and more pieces.

  “No!”

  “You did, didn’t you? You loved it. I could tell.”

  He was delirious. We couldn’t leave him in there any longer. I blurred past the Knights to get to Zac and ripped off the ropes. As I bent to pick him up, his eyes locked on mine. They were bright yellow.

  Shit.

  An unnaturally strong hand clamped around my neck. Zac stood, lifting me off the floor until my feet kicked helplessly at his rock-hard body. I managed to get my fingers under his and applied enough counterpressure to keep him from crushing my throat.

  The Knights closed in and drew their weapons.

  “Drop her!” Vincent shouted.

  “Why?” Zac demanded.

  His voice had changed. I realized who it was as soon as he shook his head like a wet dog. Suddenly, I was staring at Disaster’s deviant grin.

  “Some performance, right? Much better than Cordero.” He raked his gaze down my chest. “We never got to finish what we started.”

  Doreen cackled and materialized behind him. “Nice trick, huh?”

  Vincent and the other Knights whipped out their guns and fired them at Disaster and Doreen. The bullets turned to snakes and slithered away. Silver vines erupted from the floor and wrapped around the Knights’ legs.

  “Looking for something?” Ravana emerged from the shadows of the balcony, holding Zac in both arms. He was completely limp. “You’re so pathetic. Just like your mother.”

  “Let Wren go, or I’ll blow his heart out right here!” Hawk dragged Alessandro inside and held a gun to his chest while my other mates struggled to get past the remaining Knights who held them back.

  “Do it, and I’ll break this one in half. It would be a waste, though, wouldn’t it? I mean, you two have gotten very close, haven’t you, Wren?” She smiled down at Zac and then turned her cold eyes on me. “Pity you killed his wife, though. Funny how things work out.”

  Disaster reached up and squeezed my breast. “Oh yeah. That’s real nice.”

  I could see just enough of his torso to take aim with my boot, swung my foot back, and brought it home between his legs. He bared his teeth and loosened his grip. I pried his hand from my neck and fell to the ground.

  “Now, Talia!” Marlowe yelled.

  A spinning blue portal appeared beside me. Camera flashes lit up the room while a dozen hands with microphones reached out. Reporters hurled questions at the balcony as they clamored to get through the portal.

  “Queen Ravana, is it true that you were involved in the murder of Queen Bronwen?”r />
  “Is Melody Songsmith really your niece?”

  Ravana’s eyes widened. Before she turned to flee, she tossed Zac over the railing. After a split-second of frozen panic, I zipped over and caught him just before he hit the floor.

  I crouched over Zac, shielding him as chaos unfolded. Doreen blasted Hawk with a lightning spell. Disaster rushed him. A gun fired. Next thing I knew, Hawk hit the floor. Disaster blurred up the stairs carrying Alessandro like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder.

  Doreen threw a fireball at me. Marlowe intercepted it, catching it in both hands like a basketball, then flung it back at her.

  She dodged and missed it. Her face lit up with a triumphant smile until the quadruplets materialized behind her.

  “You’re a terrible mother,” Talia said while she and her brothers cast a shielding spell around Doreen similar to the one they’d used on the bomb.

  Doreen shrieked and cast spell after spell – sparks, smoke, fire, rainbows. It looked like a laser light show. The shield absorbed it all like a sponge.

  “How are my kids so stupid? You four are just like your father.” Doreen laughed and disappeared through the floor.

  The quadruplets immediately surrounded Zac and me, keeping us behind a clear shield that shimmered and flowed like water.

  Travis looked down at Zac, his eyes widening as he took in Zac’s near-death condition. “Hang on, Zac-man. Just a little longer.”

  Zac blinked up at me and whispered, “You came for me?”

  I smiled down at his impossibly pale face. “Of course I did.”

  He struggled to form the words. “Find her and kill her.”

  He was near death. I had two options. Let him die or hunt down my aunt. It was an easier choice than it would have been before this all started.

  “No. We’re getting you out of here.”

  Marlowe and Charles rushed up the stairs. The Knights stormed after them, followed by a herd of reporters. The quadruplets must have made us invisible, or I’d have been eating a microphone while playing twenty questions for VTV. Ashe helped Hawk to sit up. Relief washed over me. They joined us, kneeling down beside Zac.

  “He’s not going to last long.” Ashe looked up at the quadruplets. “Can one of you teleport us back to the bunker?”

  “What about the others?” I asked, panic setting in. We had abandoned Zac in the last battle. I wasn’t about to leave anyone else behind.

  “They’ll be fine,” Travis said. “We’ll find them and portal them out.”

  Making these split-second decisions wasn’t something I was accustomed to. Yet here we were.

  “Okay,” I said with as much determination as I could muster. “Get us out of here.”

  “Please be careful, Travis,” Talia said. “Our mother won’t hesitate to kill you if she gets the chance.”

  “I’m not scared of her. Not anymore. Just get Wren and Zac-man out of here.” Travis waved and winked just before he, Thaddeus, and Theodore poofed away in puffs of green smoke. I hoped to any gods who were listening that they’d find my mates and Knights and get them safely out of here.

  Talia cast a large portal that opened wide and clear into the infirmary of the bunker. I picked up Zac and carried him toward the portal.

  We were just seconds away when something whipped past the back of my head, fluttering my short hair. Talia yelped and dropped, and the portal vanished before my eyes. Shit.

  I readjusted Zac in my arms so I could whip out my gun and face the attacker. Doreen, an ugly sneer on her mouth. Before I could fire, she exploded into dozens of tiny black birds and flew away.

  Talia lay on the floor, motionless.

  I felt for a pulse, but it was faint. My main concern was Zac, though. His breathing was rapid and shallow. He had to be moments from death.

  After laying him next to Talia, I rushed for the exit door. The knob wouldn’t turn, wouldn’t even break off. Even with the fierce, vampire-strength kicks I gave it, the door was sealed shut, probably by Doreen.

  Snarling in frustration, I blurred back to Zac and Talia.

  Zac’s half-open eyes focused on me, slightly glazed with the promise of death. Again, I had to make a choice. I told myself it was for him. Though in the back of my mind, I wanted him to choose me.

  “Zac,” I said softly, squeezing his hand as I cupped his pale, yet still warm, cheek in my hand. “Do you want to die, or do you want to be…like me?”

  “A vampire?” he whispered, one corner of his mouth curving up slightly.

  “Yes.” I could only imagine my mother asking my father this same question. Was it this difficult for her? “Do you want to be a vampire? Or do you want to die?”

  He blinked at me, and in his dulling eyes, I could see the war he fought with his conscience. A war of my own raged inside me – was it selfish to even give him this choice? I held back the next obvious question of whether he wanted to be my mate. I knew without a doubt that that decision was too much to ask of him.

  As the seconds ticked by, I thought perhaps he had chosen. No answer meant he wanted to die in peace. I had to respect that.

  Then he weakly squeezed my hand. “Vampire.”

  A flood of emotions swarmed through me and drew tears down my cheeks. Then a sudden realization hit.

  I had no idea how to turn people into vampires.

  Chapter Four

  Zac

  It was a simple enough word to say—vampire. Actually becoming one, however, seemed overly complicated and something a coward would do. Why couldn’t I just accept death? Now was obviously my time. Maybe I should’ve accepted that instead of taking the easy way out.

  After Sasha died, I couldn’t even think about vampires without wanting to kill or destroy something. Me, a vampire… I couldn’t even imagine it.

  Even though Wren had come back for me, she and all of her mates, no questions asked, it didn’t mean I wanted to be like them.

  So what would Sasha say now that I’d chosen to become a vampire? I didn’t know what happened after death. The two of us might’ve been reunited. But on the other hand, if there was a chance I could help do something good, like taking down Queen Ravana…

  “Keep fighting the good fight, Detective Zac Palmer,” Sasha used to tell me every morning I went to work.

  But was I choosing to become a vampire to fight the good fight over Sasha? Choosing the woman currently scooping me up in her arms like a sack of feathers over Sasha? I didn’t think she would see it like that from her view from above…or wherever. Because after everything Wren and I still needed to sort through, she was still trying to save my life. Wren kept fighting the good fight, though I wasn’t so sure I was worth fighting for after I’d plotted her murder. With Hawk, and then when he’d refused, on my own.

  Footsteps thundered closer. A gunshot cracked nearby.

  Wren leaned over me, her angel face and heart-shaped lips inches away, and tight with panic. "I can’t turn you right here, and there’s no portal without Talia and no other way out. We need to find somewhere safe for you both."

  My mind whirred, her words scattering before they slowly made sense. "Body chute. In the basement. It should lead outside to the railroad tracks."

  "Okay. Marlowe went over the layout of the building with us. We'll find it."

  She threw me over her shoulder, my arms and legs dangling and swaying in tandem with Talia, who lay limp on Wren’s other shoulder. The weight imbalance and the load didn’t seem to affect her at all as she blurred past crumbling, graffitied walls and descended the stairs. The deeper we went into the asylum, the darker it became. The smell of mold and rot sharpened my senses, and the rush of blood to my head cleared some of the rapidly collecting cobwebs.

  Her hold on me tightened. "Think I’m going in the right direction?"

  "Yeah. You are." I smiled, or tried for one. "Probably."

  Her shoulders hitched and she sniffed, and I could tell she knew I meant figurative direction. I didn’t know where the fuck we were wi
thin the asylum, upside down with only a view of Wren’s ass, but I trusted her.

  "Wren…" I wanted to tell her everything.

  But I kept my mouth shut because Wren came to a sudden stop. The bottom floor of the asylum was lit. Odd, for an abandoned building. Maybe I was hallucinating. In the room to my right, an enormous green fungal bloom crept over the edge of a bathtub in a corner and spread up the wall. A filthy urinal and a toilet sat next to the tub, and on the far wall, something long and black, almost like hair, dangled over the sink’s rim.

  The dark part of my brain that still worked shouted severed head. Was it someone’s head in the sink?

  I shuddered at the same time Wren did, though I had no idea what she was seeing.

  “Down here!” a distant voice echoed. “I saw the bitch come down here!”

  That sounded like Disaster. But Wren was good at hiding. She'd done it since she was a child. I imagined her being little, dancing about and laughing. I thought I heard a child's laughter then, echoing down the hall.

  Wren tensed and then leaped over a section in the hall that must’ve been caved in. When she landed, I groaned, the jostle bringing a fresh wave of pain.

  “Hang on,” she whispered. “Just hang on.”

  Footsteps pounded from the way we’d just come.

  Wren dodged us through an open doorway on the right. As she did, the light at the end of the hall flickered on the vague shape of a woman. She was dressed in a hospital gown and had leaves tangled in her wild, dirty-blonde curls. The next instant, she was gone.

  I was imagining things, seeing things that weren’t there while my brain died.

  But whoever was gaining on us sounded very real.

  Wren hung another right, then pressed her back against the wall while squeezing me tighter to her.

  “I smell fresh blood,” Disaster shouted from shockingly close by. “I know you and your human are here, you fucking cunt.”

  Fury tensed every muscle in her body. She’d be serving his head on a platter for that remark alone.

  From out in the hallway, a short creak sounded, followed by several more, and then a sharp crack.