Compel Me: A Reverse Harem Vampire Romance (The Last Vocari Book 1)

by Elena Lawson

  Ethan didn’t move from the window. “Yeah,” he said quietly, and I could hear the flush I knew would be staining the tips of his ears pink in his voice.

  I noticed the tattoo gun in an open case at the side of the desk and connected the dots. “All of Blake’s ink?” I asked. “You’re a tattoo artist?” I asked, trying to picture my Ethan in that role.

  I’d always thought he would be a scientist, or maybe a professor at a fancy university. Or maybe an archeologist or an engineer. I’d almost forgotten about his love for art. It was often overshadowed by his academic achievements. But he always carried a sketchbook with him back in school. Would never show me what was inside of it, though.

  The drawings were incredible. So detailed and intricate. There was something morbid about each one, but that only served to make them even more beautiful. Haunting.

  I could see the small smirk on the corner of Ethan’s mouth as he turned to me just enough for me to see the small glimmer of pride in his eyes. “I am. Have my own shop any everything—it was the only profession that would allow me to cater to a strictly vampire clientele and still make decent money,” he explained.

  Of course, he would be the one to still at least attempt a normal life. “It’s called Moonlit Ink,” he told me. “And it’s the only one of its kind. Tattoos generally don’t stick,” he said, using air-quotes to emphasize his point, “to vampires. Our flesh heals too fast for the ink to settle, and even then, sometimes our bodies reject it, just like they reject metal, or any sort of surgical implants.”

  I hadn’t known that.

  “But, with my formula—they stick.”

  Immortal tattoos, pretty fucking badass if you asked me.

  “Can I have one? A tattoo, I mean?”

  Ethan seemed taken aback by the question and it took him a moment to consider it. “Maybe,” he said honestly. “Your blood—humans bleed when they get tattooed. It’s why I only cater to vampires.”

  “I trust you.”

  His gaze darkened and he looked away. “You shouldn’t.”

  “Don’t do that, Ethan,” I told him, getting fed up with all the brooding and self-loathing business. I moved back to where he stood sentinel by the window and poked him in the chest. “You’re the best of us, you know. And I don’t care what you think, I know you’re still you in there. Just like Frost is still Frost and Blake is still Blake. Fuck, if anyone isn’t who they once were anymore, it’s me!”

  I shocked myself with the statement, realizing how true it was. Frost may have killed a few people, maybe Blake and Ethan had, too, but I’d killed hundreds of vampires.

  And even a fraction of them had been like my guys—living by a code—not taking human lives, then I was the monster, wasn’t I?

  The guilt settled in my stomach like a pool of lead before I drew in a shaking breath and shoved the feeling away. I couldn’t deal with those thoughts right now—not with everything else going on. And besides—the majority of the vampires I’d killed attacked me first.

  Don’t think about it.

  I’d gotten real good at dismissing painful thoughts since mom. I could shove them so deep down that they all but vanished into the chasm I kept hidden in my heart.

  It was then I realized that Ethan needed me. He needed someone to tell him he wasn’t a soulless monster—to remind him when he forgot. And maybe to help him through this new life he asked for but didn’t understand the consequences of. “I’m coming with you guys to Baton Rouge whether you like it or not,” I told him. “You’re fucking stuck with me.”

  His eyes lit up and his lips parted—his body went rigid with shock, and even beneath the knit sweater, I saw how muscular he was. Leaner than Blake and Frost, but I’d wager almost just as strong. His muscle was lean and coiled, like a deadly snake ready to strike.

  “I’m serious,” I went to continue when he just kept standing there stoic with that adorable dumbfounded expression on his face. “I—”

  He crushed me into his arms. This wasn’t the soft, gentle hug he gave me when I first came out of the room earlier. It wasn’t hesitant. He wasn’t trying to gauge my reaction and act accordingly. This was a fucking bear hug that threatened to squish all the air from my lungs. But I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around him, too, as tightly as I could. Who needed to breathe anyway, right?

  I buried my face in his knit sweater, thinking I wouldn’t ever be able to get enough of that smell. The smooth nautical scent of his cologne, like ocean spray mixed with the sweet musk of the natural smell that was just Ethan.

  “I didn’t think you would—” Ethan said, stopping himself mid-sentence.

  I pulled away so he could see into my eyes. “Did you really think I was going to leave you? That I would ever allow you to leave me ever again?”

  Ethan smiled. A huge face-splitting smile that filled the universe and stroked the dark places inside of me with light. I swatted him on the arm playfully. “As if you actually thought you were going to get rid of me that—”

  He kissed me. His pillow-soft lips came down on mine swiftly, but with a gentleness that made me gasp and moan all at the same time. The tenderness of it threatened to shatter me—to break through what little of my walls remained in place over my heart. It was a cloud of butterflies raining down into my stomach and a warm ache spreading out to my limbs.

  His right hand cupped the back of my head while his left pressed me firmly against him with a flattened palm on my lower back. Our breaths mingled, hot and heavy as the kiss deepened, spurred on by my hands as they grabbed fistfuls of his hair, wanting to draw him even nearer.

  I shivered as his fangs came out, the hard teeth pressing against my lips. That same dangerous longing for the venom of the bite had me feverish—near quivering. My desire-addled brain taking over.

  Ethan’s mouth moved form my lips to kiss the corner of my mouth, and then my cheek—the spot below my ear. My breath hitched and he growled, tearing himself away from me with a guttural snarl. He was across the room in the blink of an eye, his body slammed against the wall, his breaths coming hard and ragged as he held himself there with fingers literally dug into the drywall.

  A loud bang outside the room sent me spinning into motion. That sixth sense I’d developed over the years made my hair stand on end. Footsteps in the entryway—stomping down the hall. I drew my stakes.

  Ethan gave a quick what the fuck? look as I pulled them out from their holsters beneath my skirt and then assumed a fighting stance at my side, his fangs bared for an entirely different reason now.

  The door flew open, nearly blown from its hinges as Frost came barreling through, his expression hard with the sharp glint of panic. Blake wasn’t far behind him and his handsome face screwed up at the sight of Ethan and I on the balls of our feet, having almost attacked them.

  “Well at least you’re dressed,” Blake breathed, stomping back out of the room with purposeful strides.

  “We need to leave…now,” Frost said through gritted teeth. “Get your shit. We don’t have long.”

  Ethan and I shared a look as Frost turned from the room. Ethan set to gathering up his things—shoving them into a small duffel, while I followed Frost out right on his heels. “What is it? What’s going on?” I asked, my hands tightening on the metal stake sin my fists, my blood chilling.

  Frost didn’t stop to chat, speaking as he moved through the condo, grabbing a small bag from just inside one of the rooms, as though he’d been expecting this and was already all packed up to go. “They know you’re here,” he said gruffly, tossing the bag onto his shoulder. “They’re fucking everywhere.”

  What?

  “But, how? We didn—”

  “I don’t know,” he hissed, shoving my duffel bag into my arms as we entered my room, the still rumpled sheets on the bed smelled of us, but now they were cold and empty. The emotions they held atop them soured and grown cold in the face of what was happening now. “But the whole goddamned city is crawling with them. Maybe they found
the one you killed? Or maybe—hell, I don’t fucking know Rosie—maybe he hadn’t been alone? Maybe one followed us here and I,” he seethed, clenching his fists. “I was so worried about you that I didn’t notice…”

  He was throwing clothes into the duffel—he even tossed Mr. Dickins at me and I tucked him into the opening. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded once, tight.

  It was less than a week ago that I even found out about the price on my head. And now there were enough of them here—after me—that Frost was this worried? It was rare to see anything even remotely close to fear in his eyes, but that’s exactly what I saw now.

  If it was enough to make Frost afraid—then I figured I should take it seriously. I steeled myself and bent to stuff everything in my bag and zip it up. “Alright. What’s the plan?”

  “We leave here. Head to Baton Rouge. Make sure we aren’t followed. We can hole up there until we come up with a plan.”

  There was just one thing about this plan that I didn’t agree with… as long as they were with me, they were going to be targets, too. They would be in danger. And strong or not, they were still too young to stand their ground against a massive group of vamps that could be hundreds of years older.

  I’m the one who made a name for myself with my bloodthirsty trade. I’m the one they want. Not them.

  Not my boys.

  “No. We need to separate. I’ll head south. You guys head home. I’ll come to you there when it’s safe to.”

  He looked at me like I was insane. “That’s not happening Rosie,” he growled. “You’re staying with us. How else are we supposed to make sure noth—”

  “I can take care of myself,” I hissed, hefting my duffle onto my shoulder. Fuck, why did he have to insist on trying to protect me. They were the ones who needed protecting, couldn’t he see that? They were no more than puppies staring down a pack of rabid wolves.

  “Hey,” Frost barked, gripping me by the shoulder to stop me from walking out the door.

  I hit his arm away with my forearm. “Don’t.”

  “Stubborn as a goddamned mule!” he all but shouted. “Listen here, woman. You are stuck with us. Fucking deal with it.”

  The fucking brute!

  “The hell I am!”

  When I turned again, I found a wall of muscle in my path. Both Blake and Ethan were in the doorway, blocking my exit. Both had their shoes on and were carrying their bags. Blake had traded in his tailored suit jacket for a thick leather one that accentuated his broad shoulders. A motorcycle helmet hung off the strap of his satchel. He held a length of rope in one fist and was looking at me with a challenge in his gaze.

  Ethan looked apologetic, but by his stance, I knew he wouldn’t be budged, either.

  Motherfuckers.

  “Whether you come willingly or not is up to you, luv,” Blake purred, drawing out a length of rope between his hands and snapping it tight.

  Rage made my hands shake and pulse quicken, but it was already evaporating. The red tinge in my vision fading.

  “We’re stronger as one,” Ethan added reason to Blake’s brutish threat. “Please don’t make us force you.”

  “You’re insane. All of you are fucking insane.”

  None of them moved. None answered me.

  I closed my eyes and calmed myself—taking a moment to soothe the riotous surge of adrenaline. Ok. It wasn’t as though I was going to barrel through them. And for all we knew the vampires who were after me didn’t even know what I looked like. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. It would be alright, right?

  I huffed, opening my eyes. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

  Ethan sighed. Blake tucked the length of rope back into his bag, and I flinched as Frost placed a hand on my shoulder. “Ethan’s right you know—we’re stronger together. Always have been.”

  With my heart in a vise, I turned to meet his gaze over my shoulder. Furious and terrified, but also relieved in a way—though I couldn’t have explained why. “We go quietly,” I said in a low, cutting voice. “Straight to the truck, and then straight to the highway. We don’t stop until sunrise.”

  “Agreed.”

  I glanced at the clock beside the bed. We had a little over four hours until we’d need to stop.

  With any luck—they’d never know we left.

  19

  The condo building outside the door to the unit the guys rented was quiet as we exited. Thank fuck because no matter how many times the guys asked me, I refused to put away my stakes. If anyone saw us, I’d just compel them to unsee us.

  Besides, with the guys surrounding me in a spearhead formation—Frost at the head, Ethan to my left, and Blake to my right—no one would even be able to see me, much less notice what I was carrying in my hands.

  I wasn’t exactly chill with this set-up, but I figured it would be easier to allow them to do what came naturally, even if their worries were unfounded. I could vault over Frost in half a second if I needed to, so it really didn’t matter much who walked where.

  As another condo owner came off the elevators and passed us in the hallway, I had my feelers out for that otherness that would tell me if they were a vampire or not. I didn’t feel anything, but with a wall of the creatures I hunted all around me, interrupting the flow of energy, I couldn’t be certain. The startled older gentleman let out a little yip as we passed by him as he hurriedly tried to insert his slim silver key in the lock of his unit.

  Though humans didn’t have the same sense I did, there was a natural bad feeling associated with vampire-kind for them. Sort of like when you met someone you knew right off was just bad or trouble. Animals sensed it much easier.

  Frost jammed the arrow for down and it lit up, the doors pinging open for us almost instantly. Figures there wouldn’t be too many people calling it in the middle of the night on a weekday.

  Frost entered and Blake ushered me inside with them. I grit my teeth. I fucking hated elevators. How often did the metal cords holding them elevated snap? I shuddered.

  “You alright?” Ethan asked in a whisper-soft voice, an apology laced the words. He obviously didn’t relish the fact that they basically gave me no other choice than to go with them. Unlike Blake, who seemed almost smug when I submitted to their demands. I was going to punish him for that. Sadistic fucker.

  And yet…I couldn’t help admiring the curve of his glutes as the elevator dropped.

  “Rose?” Ethan again.

  I cleared my throat. “Oh. I’m fine,” I said. “Just hate elevators.”

  No one else said a word until we were stepping out into the parking garage below the building. The bright white lighting seared my eyes, and the familiar smell of oil, exhaust and rubber filled my nostrils. I’d slept in so many parking garages over the years, I’d come to truly love that smell. Drawing in a deep breath, I found it brought me a modicum of comfort.

  And if that didn’t help soothe my excited nerves, the sight of Black Betty—shiny from a fresh waxing by the look of it—did the rest. And beside her lounged a matte and shiny silver metal beast of a bike. A Ducati Diavel if I wasn’t mistaken. The very same bike I almost bought myself with my inheritance instead of Betty. But Betty had the trunk-space for a body—the Diavel did not.

  I felt a little lighter knowing that all we had to do now was get on the road. They shouldn’t have any idea what Betty looks like and once we were out of Atlanta—they’d lose us for sure.

  Almost home free.

  We’d figure out what to do about the little problem I’d created for myself when we got there. I had a feeling there may need to be a lull in business for the Black Rose—the guys would want me to lie low—probably stop killing—and definitely stop leaving roses altogether—for the foreseeable future. Would they still help me bring vengeance to the ones who deserved it, though? Would they help me find the bloodsucking fucker who killed my mother? I hoped so.

  But we’d sort it all out once I knew they were hidden away safe.

  “Of course, you have that fuck
ing bike,” I said under my breath, more to myself than to anyone else, really.

  Blake chuckled and dangled the keys in front of me. “If you behave yourself maybe I’ll take you for a ride sometime, hmm?”

  “Ha!” I snipped, snatching the keys from his grasp faster than he could blink. “How about I take you for a ride?”

  Blake narrowed his black eyes at me, zeroing in on the keys I now dangled in front of his face.

  Frost stepped up behind me. “It’s a good idea actually—Rose drives like a bat out of hell—if any vamps are paying any attention whatsoever to the roads, she’ll draw suspicion in the truck.”

  Before I realized what he was doing, he’d wrested the keys from my grasp and tossed them back to a snickering Blake. “You drive, though,” Frost said. “And no fucking around on that thing until we’re far from here, got it?”

  I rolled my eyes at Frost and resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at Blake, who looked far too pleased with himself for my liking. “It going to take ages to get to Baton Rouge with you lot driving,” I groaned, throwing my hands up. “Which one of you is going to drive Betty, then?”

  I looked between Frost and Ethan, my hands on my hips.

  “Betty?” Ethan asked, lifting a brow.

  “Her truck. She named it.”

  Ethan glanced at my baby and nodded. “Black Betty. Original.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I said, and tossed Ethan the keys to my truck. He caught them midair. “You drive her—I trust you to take better care of her than this brute.” I jerked my head toward Frost and hefted my duffel bag at him. He caught it with an oomf and shook his head.

  “You’ve driven that hunk of metal into the ground yourself, Rosie. Don’t think there’s much more damage we could do,” Frost said, his words trailing in his wake as he and Ethan wove through the parking garage to where Betty waited.