“Arise,” Othello said loudly, his voice echoing. “You are now one of the turned. You have been reborn as a creature of the night.” As he spoke, the coffin lids opened one by one and the turned sat up. Their eyes were dark with shadows and each one had a sense of calm they didn’t have before now. They started to step out of the coffins and join us in the center of the room. There were so many, at least fifty, counting the two extras. Every year we turned more and more. The turned were all dirty with old blood, the result of scratching and beating against wood for countless hours.
Olivier led them to the basement shower room, there specifically for the turned to use, while I got to order around some maids. They’d been waiting in the underground garage, a cluster of human housecleaners that did their work and asked no questions. Normally they just cleaned the castle once a week, however, once a year we needed them to change the bedding in the coffins. The turned had done real damage to their interiors, but we’d lined them with old bedding on purpose. Almost every coffin was stripped, given a quick rubdown, and lined with new red silk bedding.
Yes, the turned still slept in the coffins during their training. Only now they wouldn’t be locked from the outside. After the maids were done, I led the Born vampires back upstairs to the smaller drawing-room, on the turned side of the house. The room was dimly lit, and red. Red carpet, red curtains, red walls. Red, red, red. Olivier and the turned that had been released were waiting for us, now all cleaned up and dressed in robes. Later today, their measurements would be taken and they would be able to order new clothes for their new bodies.
Othello silenced everyone by clapping his hands. “Now begins your training. You will spend the next five months learning from your instructors, Lisbeth and Olivier.” He gestured to us, and I waved with a smile. Olivier ignored everyone. Othello said a few more things, some inspirational bullshit, then he gestured for the Born vampires to leave, and he followed them out.
Their part was done. Now Olivier and I were in charge.
We spent most of the morning answering questions the turned had, and believe me, they were asking the dumbest questions.
Why’d you lock us up?
Are we prisoners?
I don’t want to drink blood. It’s gross.
Olivier’s method of dealing with stupidity was chopping their heads off. I was beginning to wish that was acceptable. Our lunch could not have come soon enough, and was brought to us so we could supervise the turned having their new bodies measured.
Olivier bit into a stuffed tomato, her eyes surveying the turned carefully like one might choose to bolt suddenly. I didn’t see the point. We were more babysitters than crowd control. Even if they did get past us, they’d burn to a crisp outside.
One of the turned started complaining when it was his turn to be measured, not seeing the point in knowing his size since he didn’t care what he wore. Olivier scoffed to herself. “Obviously, we didn’t screen well enough,” she said quietly. “Every year these fucks try me. If it’s not their endless questions, it’s their lack of fashion sense.” I rolled my eyes. She was such a fashion diva.
My phone went off and I stuffed a piece of fish in my mouth to lift it out of my pocket. It was a text from Cameron.
Renard wants me to lift weights with him. I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!!
I giggled and started texting back something witty since Cameron never worked out and still had a perfect body. Lift weights, flirt with the girls at the gym, and then make him play video games with you :-D
He responded back with, Nice try, but there’s no girls here. I’m not working out if the gym is lacking ladies. I laughed and put my phone back in my pocket.
After the measurements were over and the bitching ceased, Olivier and I could begin.
“Your first lesson,” I said after everyone had sat down or perched on something, “is your fangs.” They all looked disappointed like they’d been expecting something like combat fighting, so I tried to elaborate. “You must know how to control your fangs when you are around a human. Now, I know you have learned control of your thirst, and that’s the first step for a turned vampire.”
One of the turned interrupted me. “Seriously? We have to sit here and talk about fangs? When do we learn to break stuff?”
Grr.
Olivier answered that one, saving me the chance to tell someone to shut up. “You’ll learn that later. It’s important right now to learn Vampire etiquette.”
“And you only learn to… break things… because it’s important to know the boundaries of your strength. Not so you can fight or kill someone,” I added quickly.
“That is so boring!” a girl with perfect blonde hair said. She had refused to be measured since she insisted she had always been this skinny. “You mentioned you were a vampire Hunter before,” she said to Olivier. “I want to be one.”
Olivier’s eyebrows knit together. “The turned don’t become Hunters.”
This outraged several of the turned. “That’s so unfair!”
“Why can’t we? Is it some super selective club?”
“That’s racist!”
Oh my fucking god, I had the worst job in the history of ever.
Olivier let out a high-pitched noise that shook the room and made our ears cry with pain. “ALL OF YOU BITCHES SHUT UP!” She straightened and huffed like she was about to send them to detention after spanking their ungrateful asses. “You will all go down to the dormitory. Lessons are over.” No one protested.
I walked over to her when the room was empty and wiggled a finger in my ear. “Oww.” She smiled as an apology. “I fucking hate it when you do that.”
“It gets them to shut the hell up. Worth it,” was her response.
My ears disagreed, but I smiled back anyway and pulled her in for a hug. We put our work away and went upstairs. Our companions were in my suite waiting, sitting on one of the divans. Cameron was playing a video game on the big screen TV and Renard was watching him while casually lifting a twenty-pound weight with one arm. They both waved to us, too absorbed to get up. Olivier plopped down on the floor next to Renard and started complaining to him in French about how our day had gone, using every single slur she could think of.
Watching Cameron made me sad again. He’d be gone before I knew it, and I didn’t want him to leave me. I quickly grabbed my purse and zipped down to the underground garage for my car. I needed to talk to Balthazar about something, anything. Or I’d find that sweet book reader and have my way with her. Either way, I couldn’t be upset about losing my companion. This was a fact of my life.
I stopped at several bookstores, a few antique places, but Balthazar didn’t show up. I’d wandered onto the outskirts of town, and was starting to feel weary from my search when I bumped into someone at the end of a street. I started to apologize and noticed it was a child, about ten years old.
The hairs on my neck stood up in warning.
The child stunk of Lycan.
4. A child spared
I looked down at the child in front of me. I’d knocked both of us over so I was leaning over him. I sat up and he watched me warily. No doubt, he could smell me as well and knew what I was. His enemy.
“Simon!” someone shouted. I looked up and on the other side of the street crossing were two burly men and a smaller woman that looked just as tough.
Fuck.
I could tell by sight that the taller male was an Alpha. The smell from them made my lips curl in a survival instinct, and I had to fight to keep my fangs from dropping. Why weren’t the wolves coming closer? They had an Alpha plus two. I knew I wouldn’t stand much of a chance against them. They could easily run over here, grab me and the child, and rip me to pieces in a dark alley. I looked down at the child and back at the Lycans, and then it hit me.
The borders. The edge of my Order’s land was this street crossing. The border we owned spread the same distance in every direction and it was marked by the scent of vampire blood. The Lycans couldn’t cross to save thei
r pup or their lives would be forfeit to me. It was the law.
I looked back down at the boy. His scent was human, I realized. The Lycan scent I’d smelled was residual, from other people. His parents. The boy had black hair and tanned skin, a typical werewolf look. His features were in-between boy and preteen. He still had the chubby cherub cheeks and full lips of a child, but his eyes were deep and aged. He knew running from me wouldn’t do any good. He was waiting for me to take him away and do my duty.
And fuck me, I couldn’t do it.
“Simon,” I said to him over the very few humans around us, hoping that that was his name. “I am over four hundred years old. And in all that time, I have never killed a child. I’m not saying I’ve never killed before because I have.” I stole a glance at the Lycans and they were listening with straining ears to hear me. “I have drained the blood of innocents and thought nothing of it. But my hands have never harmed a child.” I stood up and held my hand out to him. He took it and let me lead him to the edge of the border, in the middle of the street. There were no cars around, so the Lycans met us in the center.
The Alpha regarded me with cautious eyes. “Why are you letting the boy go? He crossed. He is surrendered to you now. His blood is yours to spill.” The boy’s mother was holding back a sob, pretending she was growling at me. Her mate put his arm on her shoulder to steady her.
I met the Alpha’s gaze, suddenly feeling brave while sizing up a Lycan so big he made me look like a toothpick. “You heard what I said. I will not spill a child’s blood. Not even a Lycan.” I tried not to say Lycan like it was a dirty word. Simon’s hand was still in mine, I released it and gave him a push to his parents. They grabbed him fiercely, giving me a look like they’d fight me if I changed my mind.
“Your kind will find out,” the Alpha warned me.
“I don’t smell anyone nearby,” I told him, making sure to breathe deeply and push my senses out around us. “And if you left, it would be even better for both of us. So leave. Now.” I gestured with my hand in the opposite direction of where we were standing.
Instead of just leaving like Simon and his parents were doing, the Lycan Alpha handed me a bracelet he’d just removed from his wrist. It was easily almost three times the width of my own delicate wrists. “We owe you a debt, bloodsucker. Keep this, and it will protect you from any Lycan that tries to harm you.”
I turned the bracelet over in my hands. It was very intricate with braided threads and beads, and… “Are those fucking vampire teeth??” I tried not to be too horrified since he was trying to thank me, but damn it was difficult.
He smiled ruefully. “They are a symbol of strength and status.”
“That’s kind of bullshit,” I whispered to myself and almost gave it back, but he chuckled at me and was gone. The bracelet stunk of Lycan and I found a public restroom to wash it clean until it smelled like vanilla soap before stuffing it in my pocket.
I went home and pretended nothing had happened. As far as I could tell, I was in the clear. No one knew I’d broken our second highest law. The first was about not killing another vampire. I hid the bracelet in my room. I seriously wasn’t about to wear something with vampire teeth on it as a decoration. Symbol of strength, my ass.
Olivier unlocked the two remaining turned the next morning. They were large men with ripples of muscles And strong. Stronger than I was. It was a shame they were one of the turned. They would’ve been invaluable if they were Born. With the addition to the ranks, we took the opportunity to introduce the strength lesson early.
After dark, we led the turned out to a small clearing beyond the castle grounds. It was lit with gas lamps that looked like the color of firefly light. One lamp flickered, so Olivier walked up and kicked it. It flickered again and came back on stronger than before like it was afraid Olivier would kick it again. She hopped onto a fallen log and I walked up to stand beside her as she got the group’s attention.
“Today we’re learning about the limitations of our strength. It’s important to know the exact limits of strength in order to keep it under control. You can’t be in control if you’re afraid of breaking someone or something all the time. So. Go pick a tree, and have fun.” She gestured to the forest behind us. “Don’t worry. We sell any trees you knock down and plant new ones later. You two,” she added, pointing her finger at the two bigger turned. “With me.” They followed her, and one of them glanced over at me and waved with his pointer finger.
The other turned quickly began their strength lesson, and it was my job to supervise and motivate them. They started hitting the trees, softly at first, but then they really started giving it their all.
“Don’t be afraid to punch it! It won’t hit you back. No,” I told one of them. “Put your thumb on the outside of your fingers. You’ll cut into your palm if you– Damn it! No punching other students! Oh my god!” Someone started laughing behind me, and I turned to see Balthazar standing next to one of the gas lamps. He swung his cane at me as a hello. Everyone was busy with their exercises, so I left the turned and crossed the clearing to join him.
“Hey,” I said as I got closer. “What are you doing here?” I squinted at him, trying to figure out his motives. “Don’t tell me. The restriction is lifted and you want to tell me all about the human girl you just fucked behind Arby’s?”
He sighed wearily, no traces of amusement on his face. “Am I not allowed to visit you whenever I choose?”
I blinked. He was never not cheerful. And he also never came to the castle. “Umm, of course you are.”
“I’m just checking up on you,” he said quietly, his face softening and looking more normal. “You’re busy though, so I’ll leave.” I started to protest, but he was gone and there was no way to call him back. Damn it. It was about time he got a mobile so this would stop happening.
“What was that about?” Olivier asked, suddenly right in my ear. I screamed and jumped three feet in the air, then came crashing down, only to land on one of my heels. I heard a snap that wasn’t my leg.
“Fuck!” I shouted, peering down at my shoe. Olivier bent to examine it and said with a sigh of relief, “not designer,” as if that meant breaking it wasn’t a big deal. Though, if they had been designer, I’d have been more upset. I hobbled to the log she’d stood on earlier and sat down to inspect my broken shoe.
Speaking of breaking.
“You might want to…” I pointed to her big charges that were launching tree trunks at other trees and starting to launch them at each other.
“Son of a bitch! QUIT THAT RIGHT NOW, YOU FUCKING HOOLIGANS!”
I laughed under my hand, pretending to cough. Frustrated Olivier was always entertaining, but she didn’t appreciate me giggling about it. The turned continued for several hours, making the small clearing into a bigger one with the effort. We still had a while until dawn, but by then we were all as exhausted as we can get. The turned walked back to the castle with us at their heels. I hobbled beside Olivier with my broken shoe. She was about to make a snarky comment about my boots but stopped when we opened the rear gate and entered the back garden.
Othello stood with a few older vampires, discussing something intense. Among them stood a tall, muscled Born I’d never seen before. We walked closer, catching their attention. Everyone’s gaze was business as usual, except for the new Born. He stared at us with cold icy blue eyes like he was looking for the person who stole his cookies, and we had cookie crumbs on us. Olivier went rigid beside me and gave him an equally pensive look. She was momentarily the Hunter Olivier, the side of her I’d never been around, and if her face was anything to go by, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“Ladies, there you are.” Othello motioned us closer. The Born’s eyes followed us as if he expected us to bolt away. “This is Arthur,” Othello said, waving a hand towards the hawk-like vampire beside him. Arthur’s clothing was decorated with a horde of weapons strapped to his limbs and waist. His face and arms had a few tattoos and several nasty looking scars, but it
only made him look more virile, and annoyingly, slightly attractive.
Yes. He was super hot. I’d have to get his number.
Arthur finally spoke, his voice deep and rough. “Olivier and I are acquainted.” His inflection on acquainted spoke of more than simple friendship, but his expression remained neutral. Staring into his cold eyes, I found myself wondering if he was capable of any emotion other than disinterested. What would happen if I kissed him?
“If you’ll excuse us, Lisbeth and I are exhausted. Good night.” Olivier grabbed my arm and herded me through the back door. I tried to speak several times, but she continued to hush me until we’d reached my suite. Cameron was asleep in his room so the parlor was empty. Olivier sank down into a chair and sighed heavily. I didn’t say anything, just sat on the couch next to her chair, and waited for her to explain. She peeked over at me and then looked at the ceiling. “Arthur is a Hunter. A special kind of Hunter, I should say. When he arrives, he’s looking for a criminal that’s part of an Order. And he never EVER shows up at an Order unless someone has broken the law.”
Oh. SHIT.
Arthur was here for me. The tall sexy beast I’d contemplated kissing was here for me. And not in the good way.
I tried not to tense at her words, and failed. She sat up straight to appraise me blankly. “Something you’d like to share with the class? You know I’m trained to notice even the slightest hint of body language, right?”
Oh, I knew. I’d once attempted to pull off a lie in front of her, and it didn’t go very well. When I met her gaze, I couldn’t help but display a small measure of guilt. She stared at me for a long time, waiting for me to explain, but I kept my mouth shut. Admitting what I’d done would mean Olivier might be punished as well. Besides, I was being irrational. Just because lawbreaking was rare didn’t mean it never happened. Arthur might be here for someone else. Maybe.
The Born Vampire series: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Complete Series, NSFW Edition) Page 4
