Vlad

by Stacey Rourke

  “I like that,” I managed in a throaty whisper, a shiver of longing dancing through my core.

  Leaning in, his lower lip teased over mine, tempting me with the promise of his touch. “As my queen, I will give myself to you whenever you crave. Will you have me?”

  My lips parted in a sigh. “Yes … I’ll have you.”

  Enveloping me in his embrace, Vlad pulled me to him with my back pressed to his chest. His fangs lengthened, the smooth curve of one brushing my cheek. Crossing his arm over my chest, he bit down on his wrist. Ruby pearls swelled from his flesh in offering to me.

  I dragged my tongue over the wounds, which earned an appreciative moan that rumbled from Vlad’s tightly clenched lips. Spurred on by his audible desire, I wrapped my mouth around his wrist, and sucked deep. The bouquet of his flavor exploded in my mouth, tasting of lust, strength, and undeniable power.

  Lost in a blood-drunk haze, my senses heightened. Every sound was an angelic chorus. Every touch orgasmic bliss. Somewhere in the midst of euphoric rush, the thread binding me to Dorian snapped. In its place, cords of fate, trust, and acceptance braided together in a thick rope connecting Vlad’s life with mine. A rope I knew could easily be twisted into a noose.

  Not that I cared.

  Or could manage a thought outside of him.

  Turning to face the Lord of Darkness, I settled onto his lap with my knees tucked on either side of him.

  “Are all women in this time so bold?” he murmured, hands weaving into my hair.

  “Only those that know what they want.” Hips rocking against him, my lips claimed his with feverish intent.

  Grabbing my waist, he flipped me onto the mattress, pinning me beneath his weight. The points of his fangs dragged over my exposed throat. “Is there something you desire, my queen?”

  Upper body lifting off the mattress, I sought his mouth once more. “If you have to ask, I’m being too subtle.”

  With a low, throaty chuckle, his fangs retracted. “There will be plenty of time for that, copil. An eternity in fact … after we are wed.”

  Propped up on my elbows, I blinked his way in disbelief. “Seriously? You’re going to kiss me like that and walk away? That borders on cruel and unusual punishment.”

  Dotting a kiss to my shoulder, Vlad tilted his face to mine and gifted me a mischievous grin. “I do, indeed. I have been with but one other woman, my late wife Jusztina. The next I lie with will be my bride, as well.”

  Lips screwed to the side, my disappointed libido spoke for me. “You know, for the Lord of Darkness, you’re kind of a prude.”

  Nipping at the fabric of my sweater, he gave it a playful tug with his teeth. “And, for a lab created vampire, you possess a raw, primal quality I’ve never seen before. It’s intoxicating.”

  Rolling on to my side, I rested my head on my hand. “One other woman? Really though? How is that possible? I mean, do you know what countless women would do to you … or for you?”

  “I have some idea. Some sent sketches. They were equal parts impressive, and deeply disturbing.” Bounding off the bed, his hands encircled my wrists and tugged me to my feet. “Soon, my queen, and then forever. For now, we need to see to your friend, and alert the Court that Dorian Gray no longer holds sway over you.”

  “This sudden need to leave wouldn’t have anything to do with your own slipping resolve, now would it?” I teased, stepping in close enough for my chest to brush his.

  “And she’s clever, too!” Vlad gasped in mock surprise, and dotted a kiss to the tip of my nose.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Vinx

  Leaving the safe confines of his room, knives of guilt sliced slashes of self-loathing into me. Apprehension over Carter’s well-being knotted my gut, while my body vibrated with the rush of Vlad’s blood still singing through my veins. How was it possible to feel crushed and bullet-proof all at the same time?

  Whether Vlad felt my anxiety through our blood-bond, or picked up on the waves of it radiating off of me, I couldn’t say. Whatever the cause, he pulled up short. Linking his pinkie finger with mine, he gave a gentle tug. “If it comes to it, I will speak in his favor.”

  Kind as his sentiment was, it only made me feel worse. Why should I be shown that or any benevolence when Carter’s life hung in the balance because of me?

  Footfalls pounding down the hall spared me from forcing a response. Elodie rounded the corner at a full sprint, her arms and legs pumping like well-oiled pistons. Coming to an abrupt stop in front of Vlad, she clapped her fist over her heart and dipped her head in a brief bow of respect. “Lord Draculesti, Carter is awake. The Court requests your presence in their deliberations over what is to become of him.”

  Grasping Vlad’s shirt sleeve in both hands, I glanced from him to Elodie and back again. “What does that mean? It doesn’t sound good.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything, yet.” In a rare show of compassion, Elodie stepped closer and pried my hands free from the fistfuls of fabric. “With Vlad newly awakened, they wouldn’t dare make such a decision without consulting him. If for no other reason than to set a precedent for how these matters should be addressed in the future. Your friends are in Carter’s room with him. Whatever is to come, you need to be with them.”

  I stared down the hall like it was the long walk down the green mile. “They’re going to hate me.”

  “Why would they hate you?” Spine rigid, Elodie tilted her head in schoolmarm challenge.

  “Because … I killed him.”

  “Odd, since I just said he’s awake. If you killed him, you didn’t do a very thorough job.” I opened my mouth to argue, only to have Elodie close her eyes for a beat and shake her head. “You’re thinking like a human. Stop it. Today, you sired Carter. That should be celebrated. Not mourned.”

  “And if the Court votes to stake him?” I countered.

  “Then, you can hate them.” Waving Vlad around me, Elodie pursed her lips and jerked her head toward Carter’s looming door. “We have to go. You, wrestle your inner demons another minute or two, then get over your bullshit and go see your friends.”

  Vlad glanced back, clearly wanting to comfort me further. Planting one hand in the center of his back, Elodie thwarted his efforts by rushing him along.

  Left alone in the hall, I toyed with the idea of running. Disappearing to some uninhabited island, where I could find a quaint little cave to dwell in and never have to worry about hurting another person, was a tempting prospect. But, if such a place did exist, the cell service was bound to be terrible.

  Squashing that as a viable alternative, I swiveled on my heel and marched to Carter’s door before I could talk myself out of it. Fist raised to knock, I hesitated. My heart constricted in a tight fist of fear.

  Before I could reach a decision on whether to knock or bail, the six-panel door flew open.

  “Vincenza! I knew I smelled you!” Micah gushed, grabbing me in a tight bear hug. “We’ve been so worried! Are you okay?”

  Arms pinned to my sides by her exuberant embrace, I stood pencil straight. “Why were you worried about me? You saw Carter, you know what I did.”

  Keeping hold of my upper arms, Mics pulled back to look me in the face. “Like you’re the only one that’s ever lost control? Hell, at this point it’s a requirement to be in our club.”

  Shrugging out of her hold, I ducked around her into the room. While Finn lounged in a wing-back chair in the corner, clicking away on his phone, there was no sign of Carter. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see it. I attacked him like a wild animal! If it wasn’t for him accidentally having vampire blood in his system, he would be dead right now!”

  Micah jabbed one hand on her hip in exasperation. “Did you bump your head on the way in here, and forget all that we’ve been through? I killed a stranger, and emotionally scarred a stripper.”

  Not botheri
ng to look up from the screen, Finn raised his hand. “I ate your family.”

  “See?” Mics stabbed a hand in his direction. “We all have our shit, Vinx. You didn’t turn your back on me when I messed up, and I would never do that to you. Plus, Carter is alive. Sure, he’s going to have to adapt to some dietary changes, but he’s okay.”

  “W—where is he?” Drifting to the bed, I ran my hand over the rumpled comforter.

  “He’s in the restroom, getting cleaned up.” Eyes narrowing, Micah tilted her head. “What … is up with your face?”

  “Huh?” Fearing I had been caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar, I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “Nothing.”

  Of course, Finn picked that moment to chime in. Dropping his phone in his lap, he glanced up in cursory inspection. “No, she’s right. Your complexion is all red and blotchy. I’ve seen that look before!” He pointed a finger of accusation my way. “You got laid!”

  Those were the first words Carter heard when he emerged from the bathroom.

  He was attractive before the change, gifted with laid-back style and charm.

  Standing there now, he could only be described as heart-achingly beautiful. Hair a deep shade of decadent butterscotch. The lines of his face sculpted perfection. Skin flawless porcelain. Gone were his blood-soaked clothes, replaced by a pair of cotton pajama pants that sat low enough to reveal the deep V of his hip bones plunging downward.

  Heat rushing up my neck, I scrambled to clarify Finn’s claim. “No! No, I didn’t! I haven’t had sex. Well, I mean I have had sex. Did it with him, in fact.” Unnecessary head jerk in Finn’s direction. “He does this little trick with his hand that I really enjoyed. Point is, I haven’t had sex today, with him or anyone.” Realizing words were still spewing from my lips, I dropped my chin to my chest and tried to cap off my ramble. “Just so everyone knows.”

  Finn’s ebony eyebrows raised. “That … was surreal.”

  Gulping down my bout of stupid, I peered Carter’s way with a face full of questions. “Are you—”

  Not waiting for my words to form, Carter latched on to me in a flash of vampiric speed. Gathering me in his arms, he squeezed tight. Cheek pressed to my hair, he breathed me in … then recoiled with a jerk. What looked like accusation darkened his stare to a deep ocean blue. The tight knit of his brow reading as betrayal.

  Heightened vampire senses. He could smell Vlad all over me.

  I shouldn’t have been embarrassed by that. I was days away from marrying the vampire lord. Even so, my mouth opened and shut in search of some paltry sentiment that could somehow wash his hurt away.

  “Dorian Gray had me under some sort of magical thrall,” I began, voice weak and wavering. “That’s why I attacked you. The only way to break his hold, was through a blood bond.”

  Silence.

  Arms sliding to his sides, Carter backed away.

  Reaching for him, I reconsidered and let my hand drop. “Please, say something.”

  “He can’t.” Elodie strode in, positioning herself at the foot of the bed, she clasped her hands behind her back. The Court floated in behind her, forming a shoulder to shoulder line at the far side of the room. “As a potential member of the Court, it is required that he become of one mind and one voice with all of the elders. This is accomplished by mastering the art of telepathic communication. His first test, which he was charged with the instant he awoke, is to commit himself to a vow of silence until he can accomplish this sacred practice.”

  “Does that mean ...?”

  Hint of a smile twitching at the corners of her lips, Elodie dipped her head in a nod of confirmation. “Carter Westerly gave his life in service to a soon-to-be royal. It is the verdict of the Court that—upon completion of his introductory trial—he be awarded a seat as an elder.” With a crisp turn that made her heels click together, she faced the man of the hour. “If this is what you want, Carter, I ask that you take a knee.”

  Without a moment’s pause, he followed her command.

  “Whoa, now.” Palms out, I pumped the brakes on whatever ceremonial ritual was about to play out. “I feel we are lacking some crucial details here. I mean, what happens if he can’t accomplish this telepathic voodoo? Or, slips up and speaks? The guy should know what’s going to happen if he accidentally stubs his toe and let’s fly the customary expletive.”

  “This trial tests the commitment and resolve of each potential elder. If he cannot achieve it, or breaks his vow, his membership amongst our ranks will be terminated.”

  I rolled my head in a half-circle, a cue for her to finish what seemed to be an ominous threat. “Meaning?”

  Drifting forward from the haunting line of black, Renfield drew back his hood with gnarled, bony hands. “If he cannot, he will be put to death.”

  “Wow.” I winced. “No learning curve at all, huh?”

  My gaze flicked to Carter, regretting every word that went unspoken between us.

  Everything had changed.

  What we were to each other.

  What we could be.

  The one thing I needed before diving into forever with Vlad, was the closure of a heartfelt conversation. Fate chose to deny me that.

  As if he could read every qualm written on my face, Carter’s stare locked on me while Elodie uttered the words that would bind him to his fresh destiny. “The salute in House Dracul is a fist clutched over our heart. For while the muscle beneath no longer beats, it does not hinder our love, duty, or honor. From this day forth, Carter Westerly, you shall give of yourself body and soul to protect the Nosferatu bloodline, and our noble king and queen. If this is your vow, secure your pledge with our customary salute.”

  Nostrils flaring with exuberant passion, Carter clapped his fist to his chest.

  His solemn vow sworn, the other courtsmen swarmed. Encircling him, they laid hands on his shoulders and arms, and bowed their heads in silent prayer.

  Shuffled aside by their huddle, I caught Elodie’s elbow. “How long does it take? For them to master telepathy, I mean?”

  Not wanting to miss a moment of the ceremony, Elodie rose on tiptoe to peer over the blockade of weaved cloaks. “That depends on him. Only when he has something truly worth saying will the gift come.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Vlad

  For fifty-four years, I had been diligent.

  Believing every word of Dorian’s threats.

  With stones of preparation, I constructed a fortress around all I cared about. That began with the formation of an army. Looking to my trusted guards and the brave townspeople of Transylvania, I gave them the choice to become like me. Renfield, ever loyal to his post, was the first. After witnessing his strength and agility once reborn, others lined up to join our ranks.

  Calling ourselves the Nosferatu—taken from the Hungarian/Romanian word for creatures that drink blood—our numbers grew. While I remained selective about who I exchanged my essence with, my fanged children were not. Overcome by desire, they would lose themselves in their dark passions until death or conversion became the only option for their drained human mate. It didn’t take long before our kind blanketed the earth … in a cloak of death and destruction.

  Accepting my role as father to them all, I led by example, creating rules to guide us in peaceful union alongside humans. Those who chose not to obey, were brought before me. The punishments doled out firm and unforgiving. No leniency was granted when it came to innocent lives.

  It didn’t take long for me to realize that a world ladled with death and violence was no place for a growing boy. Combine that with the fact that by my side was the very first place Dorian would look for Rau, and the decision was made for me. Beseeching Father Van Helsing, the priest who married Jusztina and I, I sought refuge for my darling son. To my great relief, Van Helsing obliged and whisked Rau to the Neamt Monastery. I told no one wh
ere he was. Instead, I watched from afar, year after year, as my boy grew. His life was a precious pearl I would sacrifice anything to protect. Even so, accepting that never made our visits through the years any easier. Each time, Rau—now older than I would ever appear—begged me to turn him. That we may once again be together as a family. Seeing the depths of depravity exhibited by so many of my fanged offspring, I considered that a fate worse than death. One I could never inflict on him. Knowing my boy to have the same stubborn streak as his father, I issued a command to all Nosferatu. No one was to turn my son, death being the penalty to any who dare ignore this steadfast law.

  For fifty-four years I remained vigilant, watching and waiting for Dorian to make his move. All the while watching The Dragon’s seed seeping across the land in a toxic sludge of wickedness … because of me.

  Seated on the throne Renfield insisted on having commissioned for me, I rubbed my palm over my forehead. The moon was not yet at its highest, yet I had already seen to over a dozen offenses brought before me.

  “I was chased through the streets by a torch and pitch fork wielding crowd!” Pleading his case, the young vampire—with stringy black hair and hooked-beak nose—gestured wildly. “What choice had I, except to defend myself?”

  Hand dropping to the arm rest, my fingers dangled over its rounded edge. “You slaughtered an entire village,” I stated, tone devoid of emotion.

  “To protect myself!” Strands of hair stuck to the young vamp’s neck, held there by the crusted blood of his kills.

  “You killed the daughter of a duke, they were seeking rightful retribution.” With a snap of my fingers, I gestured Renfield over, ready to make my ruling.

  “They are sheep!” The accused hissed, daring to drop fang in my presence. “We are wolves! I will not cower to creatures that are beneath me! This world could be ours if we were led by one brazen enough to seize it.”