by Jenny Frame
Chapter Two
Victorija Dred let the human she was feeding on drop to the floor. It had been a waste of time. The blood she had gotten hadn’t even touched the hunger she had. Nothing had touched it since leaving Britain.
In the months that passed since she killed her grandmother, her conscience and her hunger hadn’t given her any peace. She’d retreated to her bedroom for the last few months. Victorija wanted solitude to torture herself with the memories of what she’d done.
Victorija never expected to feel this way about the Grand Duchess. She had always relished the idea of ending the Debrek matriarch, but when the time came, Lucia touched her and gave Victorija back memories she had repressed. Memories of being a child, being with her grandmother and her cousins, before her father had been banished from the Debrek clan for breaking their most sacred rule. Consent.
The memories of the little girl that she had been, happy and carefree, running around the Debrek estate, playing with her grandmother, chipped away at the ice inside her.
“Principe?” It was the voice of her Duca, Drasas, who stood in her doorway.
Victorija turned without making eye contact and walked over some bodies to get to her castle window. “What is it, Drasas?”
“I wondered if you could find the time to come and cast an eye over the new recruits I’ve been training.”
“I’m sure you can handle it, Drasas,” Victoria said without turning back from the window.
“Well, I can, but I just wanted you to see them. Our vampires are bringing home newly turned humans every day. We’ll soon have the numbers to take on the Debreks and pay them back for what they have done to us and to take over their immense clan. You would be unstoppable with the Debrek clan under your boot.”
“I’ll leave it in your capable hands, Duca. I wish to rest for the moment,” Victorija said.
“You haven’t been downstairs for weeks, Victorija. Your vampires need your leadership.”
The gnawing hunger was churning painfully inside her and driving her mad. Victorija flashed across the room and grasped Drasas’s neck, pushing her up against the wall.
“I told you I want to stay up here,” Victorija shouted. “Now get someone to clear up these bodies and send me vampires to feed from, from now on.”
“Yes, Principe.” Victorija walked back to the window. Drasas added, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, now send me some food.”
Drasas bowed her head and walked out of the room. Victorija grasped her stomach and steadied herself against the castle wall. Then the cramps hit hard, and she doubled over in pain. Why was this happening? It had started after they returned to France.
She remained in her bedroom because she wanted to be alone with her thoughts, and not show any weakness to her clan. Her thoughts were almost as debilitating as her hunger for blood. Lucia hadn’t just unlocked memories of Victorija with the family—the memories brought forth all the thoughts she had kept locked up tight behind her icy walls.
Victorija once told Amelia that she had experienced every shade of pain. Whatever Lucia had done to her mind, everything was melting, and facing those memories was terrifying. Between that and her unquenchable hunger, Victorija Dred feared she was going mad, just as her father Gilbert had done when he killed her mother, his blood bond.
The Debreks were vampire royalty. They were the oldest and most powerful vampires in the world because of one special ability—they could reproduce. Born vampires, as the Debreks were known, grew stronger with each new generation.
Victorija, Byron’s cousin, was a born vampire, but when her father was banished from the clan, he and his descendants lost the ability to reproduce. It made the newly formed Dred clan weaker than the Debreks.
Victorija, like her father before her, wanted this ability back, not for the joy of bringing a new life into the world, but for building a powerbase of super vampires to rival the Debreks. She sought to find out what magic Lucia had stripped them of, but it wasn’t until Victorija confronted her grandmother at the Debrek castle in Scotland that she found out the awful truth.
There was no secret magic or incantation that was taken from them—the secret was love. A pure unselfish love for another vampire or human would allow them to reproduce like the Debreks.
It was a shocking revelation, because Victorija knew she would never want or be capable of loving anyone.
Gilbert had fallen out of love with Victorija’s mother after Victorija was born. He wanted to be rid of her, and a witch had promised him she could break his need for the blood of his bond, but the spell had never worked, and he began to lose his mind to the insanity of blood withdrawal.
Victorija wasn’t bonded or ever likely to be, so why was she feeling like this? She recognized the symptoms of the same blood withdrawal Gilbert had gone through. Something was deeply wrong, and she was terrified of finding out the reason.
* * *
Byron waited as patiently as she could in the ballroom downstairs while Amelia went up to their bedroom to get undressed and ready whatever she had planned. Just when her patience was ready to break, one of the staff brought her a note. It was Amelia asking her to meet her upstairs, and also one mysterious line: Leave your uniform on.
She sped upstairs without saying her goodbyes. There was more than enough time tomorrow to thank everyone for coming. Now she just needed to be with her wife. Byron hadn’t spent last night with Amelia for tradition’s sake, and she was hungry for Amelia’s blood and her body.
Byron’s heart was beating as if she was still alive with the anticipation of touching her Amelia. She arrived at the bedroom door, knocked, and then walked in and found the room bathed in only candlelight.
Her breath caught when she saw Amelia kneeling beside the bed, head down, naked, wearing ankle and wrist restraints. She had to stop herself from groaning out loud, because that wouldn’t fit the atmosphere.
Amelia loved her dominance and light bondage play, and her request that Byron should keep her uniform on was part of that. She walked into the room and shut and locked the door. She noticed the leg restraints had a spreader bar between, keeping Amelia’s legs open, and a soft corded rope waited on the bed.
She stood over Amelia and whispered, “I love you.”
Amelia didn’t look up but said, “I’m yours to serve, Principe.”
Byron’s mouth watered for Amelia’s blood, and her sex was wet for her body. She craved Amelia, not just for what her body could give her, but also for her heart and how much she understood her needs and, even better, shared them.
She stroked Amelia’s hair and said, “Look up at me.”
Amelia did look, and her eyes were full of want. Byron was perfectly aware how much Amelia needed this side of their life as much as she did.
Byron picked up the rope and said, “Do you consent?”
“Yes,” Amelia said in a breathy voice.
“Hands up then.”
Amelia did as asked, and Byron slipped the rope through the metal loops on the wrist restraints. Now, holding the rope in her hands, she could control Amelia’s movements.
She pulled the rope and forced Amelia’s face close to her crotch. Byron undid her belt slowly and let it hang loose. She knew how much that would tantalize Amelia.
Byron had worn a strap-on since she became a born vampire. It had suited her to pass as a man in the days when women weren’t supposed to run businesses, far less banking groups. Then when female bosses became more acceptable, she came out as a woman, but who she was inside was still the person who identified with those masculine parts of herself.
Her strap-on was part of her, and Byron was eternally grateful that Amelia loved it just as much. Amelia touched her strap-on through her uniform trousers, then kissed her and fondled it.
Byron put her hand on her top button and paused. “Do you want it?”
“Yes. Please, Principe?”
Byron would love Amelia to suck her, but she sensed Amelia’s re
quest that she keep her uniform on was so Amelia could feel her pressed against her, taking her, using her. “Not just now. Get up.”
Byron helped Amelia up and led her by the rope to the end of the wrought iron bed. She pulled Amelia close, so she could feel her hard strap-on pressing into her. Byron reached around and clasped Amelia’s breasts.
They both groaned, and she pressed her face into Amelia’s neck, and let her teeth graze the soft skin around her pulse point. “You smell so good, Amelia.”
“Thank you,” Amelia said.
Byron kept a tight hold of the rope, and of Amelia’s wrists behind her back. She could feel Amelia pressing her bottom into her groin, and even moving her hips back and forth in small movements.
Byron ran her hand from the base of Amelia’s spine and down into her sex. She was soaking wet. She allowed her fingers to wander briefly into Amelia’s wet sex.
“You want this badly. Don’t you?”
“Yes, yes,” Amelia groaned.
She pulled out her fingers and offered them to Amelia’s mouth. She greedily sucked them, and Byron knew she couldn’t wait much longer. Byron moved her lips to Amelia’s ear and said, “I’m just going to take you where you stand.”
Amelia replied with a moan. “Oh yes.”
Byron pushed Amelia forward over the wrought iron bedstead until she bent at the waist, undid her trousers, and pulled out her strap-on. She rubbed it up and down Amelia’s wetness a few times and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you while I drink from you.”
Amelia shivered. She loved it when Byron spoke that way to her, and being totally restrained was making her more turned on than ever before. They played with restraints all the time, but always very light ones—Byron’s ties, scarfs, things like that.
But Amelia wanted to organize something special for their wedding night, something she knew they would both enjoy. She was probably enjoying it enough for both of them. The feel of Byron’s uniform pressed against her was so hot. It made her feel like a camp follower, used for this officer’s pleasure.
Amelia gasped when Byron pushed the tip of her strap-on inside her. Byron let her get used to the feel of it, whilst rocking her hips. Inch by inch, Byron filled Amelia up. They both groaned when it slid fully in.
Byron began to thrust, and Amelia felt so incredibly full, and so utterly taken. She tested her bonds to remind herself that she couldn’t move, and she felt herself clench around Byron’s strap-on.
Byron whispered, “This is what you wanted?”
“Yes,” Amelia groaned, “I wanted your cock inside me—and your teeth.”
Byron seemed to be overcome with lust at that last remark, because she bit into her neck straight away and began thrusting inside her faster. She could hear Byron’s murmurs of pleasure as she drank her blood and took her body.
The feel-good chemicals from Byron’s bite made her even more ready to come. Amelia’s sex grasped the strap-on inside her, and her body started to shake. It felt like it was going to be too much—the feeling was overwhelming.
“Byron, it’s too much. I can’t—”
Byron dropped the rope and wrapped her arms around Amelia’s middle, allowing Amelia to put her hands over Byron’s. She felt safe, protected, and her orgasm started to tip over the edge.
“Oh God, oh God,” Amelia repeated in a desperate plea.
Byron thrust faster and faster until she lost control and pulled her teeth from Amelia’s neck.
“Fuck,” Byron shouted. Byron collapsed over Amelia’s back, breathing heavily. “God, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Amelia reached her hand into Byron’s hair and pulled her into a kiss and tasted her own blood. She then pulled back and smiled. “More, Principe.”
* * *
Drasas walked down the castle steps and out into the stable block at the back of the castle. She needed some air and to think. The Dreds’ human estate workers and stable boys immediately put their heads down when they realized the Duca was there, and that gave Drasas a thrill. She wanted people to fear and tremble before her, the way they did when Victorija was around.
She walked up to one of the stable doors, and the horse neighed in distress and kicked the door. She hissed at it in return.
“Useless animals.”
But the horses were safe and well maintained for Victorija. If there was only one thing in life Victorija took happiness in, it was her horses. Drasas didn’t know why she cared for the filthy beasts, but everyone knew you would meet your end by the Principe’s hands unless the horses were better taken care of than anything else on the Dred estate.
Leo, the vampire next in the chain of command, approached her. “Duca, how is the Principe?”
Drasas sighed. “I’m not sure. There’s definitely something not right. She hasn’t left her room in nearly a month.”
“The blood hunger? Is it any better?” Leo asked.
Drasas shook her head. “No, it’s worse. She’s requested only vampires feed her from now on. Something happened to her in Britain, when she killed her grandmother. It left her—” Drasas wanted to say weak, but it was too dangerous to even say those words out loud. If her words got back to her Principe… “Changed. We need to get to the bottom of this, Leo. Our numbers have never been greater, and the Debreks never more distracted—and weaker, now that the Grand Duchess is dead. We need to strike them. The Debrek clan is our—Victorija’s—birthright.”
“The Principe is a born vampire. The most powerful vampire you can be. What could affect her so badly?” Leo asked.
“I don’t know, but we must find out.”
Drasas knew she would have already struck the Debreks by now. If only she had Victorija’s powers. Victorija was her mentor and she had always revered her, but since the Grand Duchess had reduced her to tears, and Drasas had found her in a ditch running from the Debrek vampires, Drasas had lost a bit of respect for her.
“Organize a rota of vampires to feed the Principe,” Drasas said.
“Yes, Duca. There’s something else, an emissary has arrived and would like to talk to you,” Leo said.
“An emissary from who?”
“A powerful ally, they said.”
“And they wanted to see me and not the Principe?” Drasas asked.
“Yes, shall I fetch them?”
“Yes, bring them here.”
Drasas paced around the courtyard. Why would someone want to see her and not Victorija?
A few minutes later Leo led a slightly built blond-haired young man into the stable block. Despite his youth and apparent lack of physical strength, he didn’t look away in fear. He had the air of someone who was extremely confident in themselves and their safety.
“Are you Drasas, Duca of the Dred clan?” the young man said.
“Yes, and you are?”
“Asha.” He bowed his head.
Drasas waved Leo away. “Well, Asha, there’s not many who would walk into a vampire lair willingly.”
“I have been sent as emissary from my mistress, Madam Anka. Have you heard of her?” Asha asked.
“Should I have?”
Asha chuckled. “Yes, you probably should.”
Drasas didn’t like his tone. She took a step towards him and bared her teeth. “Watch what you say.”
Asha didn’t flinch as she expected he would. “I mean no disrespect, Duca, but my mistress is probably worth researching. Anyway, she has asked me to convey this message.”
Asha handed her a letter with an old-fashioned wax seal on it. She ripped it open and started to read while Asha said, “Madam Anka is a powerful, influential woman in the witch community. She would like to meet with you and discuss potential cooperation between the witches and the Dred vampires.”
Drasas looked up from the letter. “Witches helping vampires? Are you joking?”
“No, Madam Anka never jokes,” Asha said.
This was insane. “You are aware that my Principe just killed the high priestess of
the Paris coven? The covens in France are baying for our heads, apparently.”
“Yes, my mistress was most pleased to get Lillian out of the way. It only helps her cause. As for the other covens, there are different kinds of covens, Duca, some light and some darker.”
“Why me? Why not talk to my Principe?” Drasas asked.
“We understand your Principe is having some…difficulties at the moment, and my mistress can help with that. Think about it. The contact details are in the letter.”
Asha bowed and walked away. Drasas looked both ways to see who’d seen her talking to Asha, but everyone was busy with their own work. She should take this to Victorija, but then again, she wasn’t herself.
Drasas stuffed the letter in her pocket and felt a small knot of fear in her stomach. Was this treacherous? No, Drasas decided. She was the only one capable of dealing with this new information. She would tell the Principe what she needed to know when she found out.
Chapter Three
Alexis shut her bedroom door and walked along the corridor in the direction of the staircase. She was heading to the mess hall in the basement to talk with one of her vampires.
She came to the top of the grand staircase and looked at the throng of people below. The Principessa, with the help of Katie, was overseeing the revamp of the Debreks’ London home, and for the last few weeks, since the wedding, the house had been filled with human decorators, plumbers, electricians, and joiners.
Just having these humans in Byron’s home filled her with worry. How was she supposed to keep the Debrek secret world hidden and Byron and Amelia safe with all these human strangers milling about the house? She had tried to counsel Byron against letting so many in at once, and tried to limit the number, but Byron was relaxed about the whole thing. Too relaxed.
Alexis gripped the wooden banister. Byron had become less careful since she and the Principessa became bonded, but Alexis vowed she would not take her eye off the ball. It was her job to be vigilant, and to make sure everyone was safe.
