Presidential Vampire: First Sun [Presidential Vampire, Book One]: A Young Adult Vampire Romance

by Holly Hook

  “Yes. Servant, blood bag, or fake friends. Like what Zara is to Emmy,” I mouth, hating her. Zara must be buds with activist leaders so she can rope in people like me and Silvia.

  He nods, having heard me. “There's one more.” Jeremy lifts an eyebrow.

  “Which is?”

  “It's serious. Very serious, and when it's done, the other vampires will have no choice but to respect it. It's also about power. And it's the only way you even have a chance. I understand if you don't want to do it. I'm not supposed to ask you for your consent, but I am.”

  I can barely hear Jeremy. “What do you mean?”

  Jeremy clears his throat. “I claim you, by marking you with my blood and my scent.”

  I grip the table as my ears ring. Is he serious? Then I repeat the question out loud, careful not to raise my voice because Jeremy has his finger to his lips.

  “If I claim you, the other vampires will see you as my servant, my personal blood donor, and if you ever get turned, my bride. And it’s forbidden for my kind to touch the servant of a vampire higher than themselves.”

  My words catch in my throat. “So, were you grooming me for this?” I resist the urge to slap him.

  Jeremy’s eyes widen. “Not at all, but I had to make it look as if I was, in case I had to make this leap.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He nods. “I understand if you refuse. But if you go through with it, the other vampires will see me as having power over you. As a high-ranking vampire, I'm expected to claim someone. If I do, all will make sense to them. My father claimed my mother when they were just nineteen.”

  My heart thumps as my palms tingle. The idea is both terrifying and exciting. Jeremy is the most beautiful man I've ever seen, equal parts angel and devil, and even if I never get turned, will this bind me to him forever?

  Can I do that?

  “What are the benefits?”

  He continues with a grin. “My protection. Killing you would rain death on the guilty. We’ll piss Beatrice off because if you die, she’s the top suspect. And this is what Goodman expects from us. He made it clear at the meeting.”

  I shudder as I think of his heartless, arctic gaze. Of course he wants the Spade Party to prevail and look good. Now the meeting makes sense.

  “And if I claim you,” Jeremy continues, “everyone will expect you to follow me around. That means we could get closer to my father, who can put pressure on Goodman to change the Act and do damage to the FHDA. They’re nothing but corrupt assholes who give money to other corrupt assholes.”

  I take a sharp breath as we stare at each other. Jeremy sits back, letting me know I can leave. After he bites me, of course. But he's dangling revenge in front of me, not just against Beatrice, but against Dream Developers.

  We could get to Benjamin Haywood himself.

  No more staffers. No more reps and senators who aren't strong enough to go against Goodman.

  Is this a trap?

  If I go through with this, I'm leaping from a forest fire and into a volcano.

  “What does this mean for my future?”

  Jeremy gives me no sign of victory. “I won't be like whatever you left back home, Ember. We'll figure out a way to get you out of here. You have a much better chance at getting out than I do. It's not too late for you.”

  What do I even say to that?

  And is it that obvious I don't want to go back home, either?

  Can I do this?

  I'm shaking. “Will this work?”

  “We'll make it work.”

  I know I have little time to decide. I see no other way to get to the President, even though this might end up being even more dangerous than the alternative. There's nothing but hell and death out there, and if there's any way to stop it, I'll take it. “Do it, Jeremy.”

  What am I doing?

  Jeremy leans forward, extending his arms. “I'll be gentle. Are you sure?”

  No. I'm not. Not at all. But I see no other way forward. I have no future if I walk out of here and let everyone think I'm trying to go where I don't belong.

  I close my eyes and let myself collapse into Jeremy's grasp. His suit whispers as I lie against him, trying to relax my neck muscles to make it hurt less. He folds one arm under mine to hold me steady, and his fingers drum my bare skin as if to distract me from what's to come.

  His lips caress my sensitive flesh, and a wave of electricity surges under my skin. Jeremy kisses me up and down my neck, digging his fingers into my arm, and I suck in a breath just as his fangs send a dangerous tingle across my skin.

  A hot flash of pain follows, and I gasp at the shock. Pressure builds as Jeremy sucks once, twice, three times, and retracts, leaving my flesh to scream and burn.

  “Jeremy--” I let out, unable to stop myself.

  “One more thing,” he hisses as I open my eyes.

  The pain makes the world flash into strange colors. This was gentle? My head swims and I fear I'm going to pass out. I'm still a wimp. But my body heats at close contact. Jeremy keeps one arm under mine, steadying me as he swallows. I focus on him. His eyes light and the redness in them seems to flash with the taste of my blood. Despite my pain, I can't help but wonder how I taste.

  Then Jeremy bites into his own finger, drawing a few drops of crimson. “Brace yourself.”

  I close my eyes as he pulls me close to him again, and something hot and burning touches my wound. I bite in a scream as the burning sensation spreads through my neck, into my head, and down into my chest.

  He's putting his own blood into me.

  “Ah--” I begin.

  “Shh,” he says. “It's over.” He draws his finger back and dabs my neck with a cloth napkin. Instantly, cool relief flows through me as the burning thins out, then disappears. “I didn't give you nearly enough to turn you, but now carry my scent. And that will make the other vampires back off.”

  I collapse against Jeremy, my head pounding with the excitement and the stress.

  Outside the curtain, Silvia gasps as the vampire takes another sip as if she's a martini.

  Jeremy and I are acceptable now.

  But at what cost?

  “Ember, be furious with me. Hit me. Something.”

  “I don't know if I am.” I consented to this. Shit, I let Jeremy bite me and then mark me. And for all I know, that's a terrible mistake.

  “By the way,” he whispers, “You need to make an appearance with me. I need to parade you around. There's a campaign donors’ party in two days that we should attend.”

  “A party?” Despite lying against Jeremy's shoulder and despite the throbbing of my wound, I look up at him.

  He grins. “It's at my place.”

  “Your place.”

  “Now that I've marked you, I can get you clearance. And we can have that chance to get to my father.”

  Um.

  Oh.

  Holy shit.

  “So,” Jeremy says with that devilish grin. “Do you want to go?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Despite the bites we’ve endured and despite getting back to our apartments at four in the morning, Silvia insists we rise early the next morning, as in, wage slave early.

  “Please. No,” I say as we half-stumble into the apartment building lobby, under the watchful eye of our guards.

  Silvia slaps her hand on my shoulder and steadies me under the chandelier as our cab outside rolls away. “Yes, Ember. You need to go shopping. Tomorrow, before we go to the grind. Do you not understand how big this is?”

  “I think I do,” I say. I barely remember telling Silvia what happened with Jeremy in that booth. I can't feel his blood in my veins anymore, but the stares I drew from the vampires when I exited his booth confirmed that I've got his scent on me. The whispers Silvia and I left behind in that restaurant still play in my ears.

  I just want to go to bed.

  But my heart races with excitement. Excitement, and terror.

  Silvia, despite her still-weeping bit
e marks, circles in front of me and seizes my arms. “You're going to the White House. With Jeremy. You're going to be the center of attention and all the vampires will talk about you if this claiming thing is as important as Jeremy says.”

  “Please. Let me get back up to my apartment.” I might throw up. The universe is playing a joke. Can I possibly go deeper into this nightmare spiral? At least when I show up, I'll look nervous as I should. A claimed person is under the control of a vampire, and they got there wtihout consenting.

  And what if Dad calls and asks what I'm doing? The thought pops up, uninvited, and I pull away from Silvia.

  “Ember. I'd be nervous, too. I'll help you shop. You'll need to get any dress you wear tailored, and all that.”

  “Appreciate it,” I say, bolting up the stairs. I don't stop again until I've opened my apartment door to find my new unit untouched. Phew. Beatrice, who snapped her gaze to me in shock as I left, hasn't found a new way to terrorize me yet. With luck, she's now too scared to attempt. “I'm glad you believe me about Jeremy now.”

  Silvia nods. “I'm sorry I was skeptical at first. Then I saw what Beatrice and her mom did. They threw you under the combine right in front of everyone. I'm glad Jeremy had a Plan B. He's not trying to use you like I originally thought.”

  I swallow, but I'm glad she kept those thoughts to herself. Jeremy and I are using each other but at least all seems fair. We need each other for survival, and I need Jeremy to get to President Haywood. Is that what I'm going to do in two days? Yeah. I have no choice, because Senator Goodman has a lot of power and he will let nothing get into the Act that would actually help people. And the Heart Party is no better. Only someone more powerful can lay pressure on him.

  “See you tomorrow? We need our sleep,” Silvia says.

  “Tomorrow,” I agree, lingering in my doorway.

  I crash on my bed, and though Jeremy took very little of my blood, just enough to make the other vampires believe he truly wanted to feed on me, exhaustion drops like a heavy, black curtain. Soon, I'm drifting as my thoughts break down into nonsense images, and then I'm gone.

  My alarm blasts right after that, and I open my eyes to see that it's seven in the morning. I haven't seen morning light in maybe two weeks, and I'm shocked to see the pinkish-orange light coming through my narrow window. The guards below me are having a conversation about a sports game they watched last night, but I'm glad that my new place is right above them.

  Silvia knocks on my door a moment later, and then we're getting ready. But she's brought me a cappuccino she probably went out and got herself, and I'm eternally grateful.

  “Thanks,” I say, sipping it and getting slightly high off the caffeine. We're going to need it.

  I text Mike to see how he's doing, and he responds that his new client is awesome to work with. I'm glad and relieved that he's still alive and doing well, but I want to scream because he does not know what I'm in for and he can't offer advice. I’m gagged.

  Then Silvia takes the lead on taking us to a dress store that she researched after I crashed. Our cab pulls up to a fancy place with slim-fitting gowns in the window, and though the windows have the tint of every place that serves vampires, I can tell that this is a high-end place. And during the day, it's not busy.

  Claire and Larella's. The name just sounds rich. “Will they pay for this dress? The government? They'll get a bill for this.”

  Silvia smiles. “You're worried about that?”

  Oh. Then I smile, my mood lifting. They can have the bill. A Congressional account pays for the credit card, according to Becky, and it’s got a super high credit line.

  And they won't kill me for doing what I need to do as Jeremy's claimed. Or Mike, either.

  We enter a world of rich gold, elegant black and wealthy red. Mannequins stand everywhere, dresses clinging to them like second skins. The dresses here are all slim and befitting of government parties. Two gray-haired ladies talk to each other from behind the counter, but other than them, we're the only ones. I imagine most of the customers are vampires.

  “I don't belong here,” I squeak.

  Silvia pulls me deeper into the store. “You do, now. You can't go into that party in your shirt that compares politicians to diapers.”

  I snort. And draw the attention of a lady.

  “Can I help you girls?”

  I'm paralyzed. But Silvia is a lifesaver, as usual.

  “My friend here is going to a party at the White House tomorrow night. She needs a dress.”

  The woman's jaw drops as she looks me over.

  I force a nod.

  And the women both walk over and begin assaulting me with questions about colors. What makeup type am I—a Summer or a Winter? What's my favorite palette? Then Silvia stands back as they move on to holding dresses, each one safely in a plastic bag, to my figure and whispering among themselves about how each color will contrast with my skin tone and hair color. I swallow, standing there and taking the strange treatment.

  At least they don’t ask me why I’m going and probably don’t care so long as they’re paid.

  “Black might make you look too serious.”

  “No gold. It wouldn't contrast well enough with your hair.”

  “Red. It's got to be red. This one,” the first woman says, holding a one-piece getup in front of me.

  I suck in a breath. “Are you sure?”

  “I've fitted many dresses in my time, and this is the one,” the woman says. “Now, if you'd come back, we'll begin the tailoring process with the goal of having this ready for you by tomorrow. We'll work extra hard on such a time-sensitive thing.”

  Silvia grins at me as the ladies take me back to a back room where there's a platform and a table covered in pins. Clearly many women have stood on the worn carpet of the platform to get fitted. I go into a changing room and Silvia goes with me, because apparently dresses are a two-person job to get on. How do rich people deal with this?

  “You know,” Silvia says. “I bet Jeremy is looking forward to seeing what you come up with.”

  My heart thumps as she zips up the back of the dress and plays with the fabric to hide the zipper. I look down to see that it's loose around the waist, and maybe a bit too long around my knees, but the tailoring will take care of that, right?

  “Maybe?” Could part of me be looking forward to this?

  “I had my doubts at first, but after last night, I can tell he's trying to help you out,” Silvia says, straightening out something on my back. “Great minds sure think alike.”

  “Thanks for what you did last night, Silvia,” I say, realizing I've forgotten to acknowledge that she went into that snake pit with me. “You didn't have to do that. Now the other panelists will talk about the two of us.” She didn't have to get into this mess.

  “I refused that vampire's ten dollars,” Silvia says. “I wouldn't have taken a thousand.”

  “Ten dollars? No wonder he didn't have a donor.”

  “I did it to make sure Jeremy wasn't taking advantage of you. And yes, I'm a big sister.”

  I'm so glad for her, even though I hate the fact that she put herself through that.

  I flinch as Silvia straightens the dress around my waist. “He seems hate being a vampire. But he's also good at switching personalities on a dime. Jeremy has talent.”

  “I think he actually likes you.”

  My body heats as Silvia finishes. I twirl in the dress, which hugs me in all the right places except for that wrinkly waist. I check the mirror. The red goes well with my dirty-blond hair. It's simple, yet elegant. The ladies were right. Black or gold wouldn't have worked on me.

  “I don't know why. I can't even control my emotions. I’m always in fight mode, as you say.”

  “You know, you're too close to the situation to see the truth about yourself. Ember, you're amazing. There's a reason Emmy brought you on this trip. You just schooled that committee at the statehouse. Then you schooled the FHDA.”

  “No. Way. I'm he
re because I screwed up and look what's going to happen if we don't get out of here in time.”

  Silvia face-palms. “You're about to face the President. If anyone can work something out to slash FHDA's funding and give them the punishment they deserve, it's you. You don't tiptoe around important shit.”

  I gulp, wanting to believe her. At what cost is this coming? I haven't been here for long, but I know that the farther I go into this, the higher the price I'll pay.

  * * * * *

  I can barely get through the meetings of that night, in which only the human panelists will go because the vampires have separate meetings with Goodman and Warrington in another building, probably to talk about the finances of the Act. That means no gauging to see how Jeremy reacts to me in public, and no gauging Beatrice's reaction to his scent. I'm relieved, but that also means that I'll walk into the campaign donors' party, not knowing how things are going to go down.

  And when I wake the next morning, the day of the party, all I can do is pace around the apartment while I wait for Silvia to take me to pick up my dress.

  She takes me to lunch beforehand, and we pick up the dress, which is protected in plastic and tailored to my proportions. Oh, and it costs a small fortune. She helps me to try it on once we're back at the apartment, and it fits snugly.

  “You'll fit right in,” Silvia tells me.

  I gulp. “I doubt that. It's going to be a bunch of vampires and any humans there will be rich campaign donors who threw money to President Haywood during his campaign. And anyone who wants to give him money to run for his second term might be there, too.”

  Yikes.

  What will I need to do? Hang on Jeremy's arm for the evening and let him display me like a trophy? Though I understand why he needs to do it, I hate the thought. I've tamed a wild Ember. That's the angle he'll have to take to convince the other vampires that he's like them.

  But it's the only plan we have left.

  Evening approaches, and the party starts at ten, right after full sunset. I'm about to throw up all over my dress. Jeremy said back in the booth that someone would come to collect me, and that I'd have to go without complaint. He can't guarantee the person he sends will be someone he trusts, like Nathan.