Fatal Cravings
Immortal Keeper Vampire Paranormal Romance series
Daniella Starre
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Other Books By Daniella Starre
About the Author
Fatal Cravings © 2021 Daniella Starre
Cover Art © 2021 Glowing Moon Designs
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
1
I loved him since we first met. Granted, I was five, but still, I knew he was the one for me.
It was years before I saw him again. At sixteen, I thought I was finally worldly enough, worthy of him.
One kiss. One kiss, a nip at my neck, and he fled.
I thought that would be that, that I would never see him again—him with the features strong and sharp as if chiseled by the gods, him with dark hair and darker eyes, black but glinted with golden flecks, him with the large hands that can swallow mine whole.
He was a brutal monster.
A killer.
A vampire.
Still, I craved him.
I desired him.
I worshipped him.
But cravings could be fatal. I knew that.
Only the strongest of humans are allowed to become one of the Chosen, to have vampire donors. I used to pray to the moon and begged that he would return and give me a golden necklace. My every dream featured him.
That kiss he gave me burned me, seared me, marked me as his.
The other boys at school tried to talk to me. They thought I was playing hard to get. They didn’t realize that another had already laid claim to me.
I never played games.
But he did.
It wasn’t even until my eighteenth birthday that I learned what his name was.
“Annabel Gates.”
His voice was as smooth as silk, deep and rich like velvet. Just hearing him speak was enough to make me lose my mind.
He was inside my room. The window had been left open. My birthday was in early August, when the temperature was brutal in the sweltering Texas heat. My parents didn't have much, and we couldn't afford air conditioning. Only if there was a strong breeze did I get any relief. My sister had a nightmare again, as she had most nights, so she had gone to my parents' room to try to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night. We only had one bed between us, Amber and I. She was five years my junior, only thirteen, and if a vampire came for her, I would protect her.
There was no one here to protect me, though, not that I thought I needed protection.
Oh, how very wrong I was, so utterly naïve.
The vampire was leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed in front of him, ankles crossed too. As with every other occasion when I saw him, he was dressed in an impeccable suit, as if it had been tailored to fit him to a tee. Most likely, it had been. I never heard of a poor vampire.
But that was me—the poor part, not the vampire. I was just a human, a simple eighteen-year-old at that. Why was he here?”
“It’s not fair,” I finally forced myself to say. “Who are you? You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
“Do you need to know my name?” he asked as he advanced toward me with a strange glint in his eyes.
I couldn’t look away from his domineering stare. He was a vampire. He drank and killed those like me, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to be terrified of him. He didn’t scare me, and that shouldn’t be the case, but it was.
Why? I still didn’t know.
“Do you remember me, Annabel Gates?” he asked in that same seductive voice.
I nodded, my fingers touching my bottom lip.
His lips parted, and I could see the tip of his fang. When he licked his lips, I gasped.
Why was I so drawn to him? It felt like there was a bond between us, some strong magnetic force that drew us to one another, and I stood from where I had been sitting on my bed, trying to read a trashy romance novel.
That was when I remembered it was early in the morning, very early, and I was still dressed for bed.
In a tight shirt that didn’t even cover my underwear.
Self-consciously, I tugged on the hem, not that it would help to cover me more.
His lips curled into a smirk, and I could feel my cheeks turn red with embarrassment. Heat flushed all over me. Of course he had seen far more than what this t-shirt covered or rather didn’t cover. He had to be centuries old. By the look of him, I assumed him to be Italian. Sweet, seductive, savory…
Trying to be coy, I touched my bottom lip again, hoping he would react, that he would sweep me into his arms, but no, he remained there, watching me.
Slowly, I reached for the hem of my shirt again, intent on taking it off.
The next instant, he stood beside me. “What do you think you are doing?” he asked, his words like a purr that made me arch my back and unintentionally push out my chest.
“Vampires are…” I licked my lips. “You…”
He reached up to touch my face. “You are not like most,” he murmured.
“I am nothing special,” I blurted and then flinched. Why would I say that to him when I wanted him to think exactly that?
An infection, that was what he was. A plague. Since I first saw him when I was five, he had wormed his way into my heart.
Back then, I had been so afraid, so worried…
So hungry.
My parents hadn’t been able to afford enough food for the three of us, and my mom was almost ready to give birth to Amber. Looking back, clearly Amber had been an “oops” baby. I knew my parents wouldn’t have enough to feed themselves, the baby, and me.
So, at five years old, I climbed to the top of the Cursed Ravine. I overheard some of the boys in the neighborhood talk about how the place was haunted because of all of the people who had jumped to their deaths.
That was what I had intended to do—to jump so that my parents and my yet-to-be-born sister or brother could have enough to eat maybe.
But he had stood there, in the shadows, lurking, watching me, and when I saw him, something inside of five-year-old me shifted. I knew I didn’t have to jump, that maybe I could do something to help my parents.
So he saved me without a look, and in my mind, he became a savior, a guardian angel, and I gave him my heart. I followed him blindly.
From that day on, I started to find as many berries and fruit as I could. I would ask people who sat outside at restaurants and had opted against boxes for their leftovers to reconsider and let me have their food. I even stole when times were really bad.
My stomach never hurt quite as much as it had the day I climbed Cursed Ravine, and I liked to think my parents didn’t have to be quite as hungry either because I shared whatever I found or stole. It wasn’t just for me, but for them.
Was that why he was saying I wasn’t like most? Why would that matter to him?
But it seemed to matter to him.
I seemed to matter to him.
And he mattered to me more than I could
possibly say.
My chin lifted, and as I release my shirt, I swallowed hard.
“I would like to know your name, yes.”
“Do you need to know my name?” he repeated, smirking as he circled around me, his steps slow, measured, calculated.
I turn to follow him, wanting to always see his face, and then, he abruptly moved in on me, forcing me back until my back hit the wall. He pinned me there without touching me, and he had to hear my heartbeat because even I could hear it.
“I need…” My gaze fell to his lips. Why did I want him to kiss me? To touch me where no one else had dared?
“What is it you need?” he asked.
And my thoughts turned to my sister, her nightmares, and I knew it stemmed from the mold growing in the house, how our utilities were being threatened to turn off, how our house wouldn’t pass inspection, how we shouldn’t live here, no one should, but we had nowhere else to go.
As much as I wanted him, what I needed was another matter.
“I need my family to not have to worry about the mold,” I murmured.
The mold was the most terrible part because all of us, especially Amber, were starting to become sick, and I worried that one or even all of us could die from it, but there truly was no other place we could go. Many times, I asked if we would be better off out on the streets, but besides the mold, Mom was sickly. She wouldn’t be able to survive on the streets, and honestly, Amber was young yet, just a child. She shouldn’t have to live like that.
The vampire straightened, drawing back, appraising me. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring, and the sight of his smile, even with his fangs, filled me with such indescribable joy.
“What mold?” he asked.
I reached out for his hand. “Come. I’ll show you.”
But he merely stepped back.
The mold was growing in almost every room of the house but my sister’s and my room, so I left, figuring he would follow me.
He didn’t.
I checked every room but my parents', not wanting to disturb the sleeping trio.
The mold was gone.
How I didn’t know, but I just knew it wouldn’t return.
Shocked, amazed, thrilled, I returned to my room, expecting the vampire to be gone.
And he was gone.
The next morning, however, he returned. Again, I asked him for his name. He countered, asking me what I need, and as much as I could ask him for anything, I didn’t.
Not for myself at least.
“Amber needs new clothes. Her old ones are falling apart so much that I can’t even sew them back together enough for her to be properly covered.”
In the blink of an eye, he was gone. When I turned toward the bed, there were ten simple dresses, all in Amber’s size.
Again, he returned the next morning, and this time, I again answered his question with a request for my sister.
“For her nightmares to stop.”
He had lifted his chin at that, appraising me, and my stomach clenched. This was something he could not give, which is why I hadn’t asked for it yesterday, but still, it was what I needed.
Without a word, he was gone.
That night, Amber slept peacefully for the first time in years.
She was still sleeping when he returned the next morning.
“What is it you need?” he asked before I could ask for his name.
“My parents need—"
“I asked what you need.”
I swallowed hard, knowing the answer without having to think about it. I needed him to stay. I needed to get to know him.
I needed his name.
I needed his desire.
I needed his love.
Because I loved him. He was helping me, helping my family. He’d already saved my life once, and now he had a second time, and I just wanted to let him know and see how much he meant to me.
But I didn’t tell him all of this with words. No, I touched his cheek. His skin was a bit cool to the touch, but I expected that. He was taller than I was, my head not quite reaching his nose, but I wrapped my arms around his neck, lifted onto my toes, and thought about kissing him.
I wanted to.
But he asked what I needed.
“I need you,” I whispered.
He was still, like a statue, the most handsome, sexiest statue in the world.
When he did move, he reached up and lowered my hands. I thought he would kiss me, remove my shirt, take me with him. I thought he would have his way with me even though my sister was in the room sleeping.
But he didn’t.
He cupped my face, his thumb rubbing against my cheeks.
“My name is Maxwell,” he murmured.
My heart sunk. I knew then that he would not give me what I truly needed, and I was right.
That was the last time I ever saw him.
I loved him since we first met, but that was then, and this was now, and I hated him. He left me, ruined me.
I thought he would always be there for me, but no, he left me, shattered me into a thousand pieces.
I had only been eighteen, unworldly after all, ignorant of the ways of men.
Ironically enough, I remained ignorant of the ways of men. Maxwell had refused to claim me, to tame me, to bed me, and I was still a virgin to this very day.
I hadn’t known a moment of peace since he left.
He, though, Maxwell, that damned vampire, still occupied my dreams at night, but now, they were all nightmares where he tormented me, leaving me time and again, breaking me, abandoning me.
Even during sleep, I couldn't find rest. There was no respite from his torture.
Even worse, when I left my family and struck out on my own, I could find no one to turn to. I couldn’t make any friends because I trusted no one. He had broken mine, after all. And worse than that, I couldn’t bring it in me to even consider dating a guy, any guy for that matter. He had ruined me so thoroughly and completely that I was left alone.
Not entirely, though.
Yes, I left the shack of a house I grew up in, but I did not abandon my parents or Amber. I only left them so that I could find a way to brighten their futures, to reverse their fortunes. My parents slaved away day after day, seven days a week, trying to make enough to scrape by.
But no more. I sold everything that I had to buy a computer, and I taught myself everything about the instrument.
And I became a hacker.
I might not be the best hacker to ever live, but I knew my way around zeros and ones, and I could code better than most. I knew how to cover my trail, and my parents’ bank account slowly began to rise. Slowly.
My parents didn’t know what I was up to. They didn’t realize it, and they didn’t need to know.
As for me, I only gave myself enough to survive on. My parents and Amber deserved everything I could give them and so much more. They drove me in as he had spurned me once.
In a way, that was how he affected me the most. Despite the love and the hate, he molded me to become a survivor.
But without his help now, I might very well end up dead after all.
My gaze lifted, and I took in the scene beyond the ornate golden fence. The sprawling mansion—no. Mansion wasn't the word for it. This place was no less than a palace with its huge, expansive building. You wouldn't think that a vampire would care much for the lawn, being that grass is a part of nature, and vampires weren't exactly natural, but the lawn was immaculate with bushes cut into various predators along the stone pathway. Beneath the windows of the front of the palace were various flower bushes. Even though I had stopped halfway down the pathway, I could still smell their sweet fragrance, but I didn't smile, couldn't smile, wouldn't smile.
The turrets, the towers, the hundreds of windows… This was no house, and maybe palace wasn’t even the word for it. Castle. Domain. A fortress.
It was a place for a powerful vampire, and that was exactly what I needed.
“What do you need, Annabel?”
I muttered to myself aloud.
A couple walked by the path just then, the woman glancing over at me derisively. I ignored her, only now realizing that I wasn’t the only one making my way toward the palace. Her clothes and her disdain only served to lessen my resolve. Coming here was sure to be a mistake.
I hated Maxwell with every fiber of my being.
But I also hated myself too.
My chin lifted, and I forced myself to take one step, another, and another. Slowly, I approached the door.
My fate would rest in the hands of a monster who could easily kill me… a monster I could only hope would prove to be my salvation.
2
The stones of the building were even more beautiful up close, white with gray specks, reminding me of Maxwell’s dark eyes with golden flecks.
I swallowed hard. No one else was along the path anymore. I’d waited for the others to all go on ahead, but now, it was my turn to enter the home of Maxwell.
The door didn’t open for me as it had the others, and feeling a bit out of place, I glanced around. There wasn’t a doorbell, so I rapped my knuckles against the thick door.
Nothing. The door didn’t open.
My fingers were just reaching toward the door again. I wasn’t sure if I would try to knock again or try to open what looked to be an extremely heavy door, but then, it opened.
A servant dressed in livery stood there, blocking the entranceway. He gave me a similar passing glance as the woman earlier, his gaze as disdainful as hers too.
I bristled. Yes, she had been dressed in an evening gown, a gold one, and had worn jewels that I figured had to be real, but so what? I had worn my best dress, which, admittedly, was just a plain little black dress that wasn't super low at all. In fact, it went up to my collarbone. It was form-fitted even though it hadn't been tailored to my specifications. It looked like the servant's uniform had been tailored, though, which only made me feel that much more out of place. Even he looked like he belonged.
Fatal Cravings: Immortal Keeper Vampire Paranormal Romance Series Page 1