Silver Vein: Beneath the City Sleeps Book 1

by Shannon French

  “Did I wake you?” He asked softly, fully turning to face me, his pale, scarred chest glinting with sweat in the dim light.

  My head shook furiously from side to side as I finally looked away from him. “No, sorry. I couldn’t sleep.”

  Xavier’s previously bright eyes turned dark as they swept down the full length of my body and I became highly aware of my heaving chest and bare legs. Hardly a second had passed when he stalked closer, his body commanding attention, until he was towering above me. His hand moved up the prickled skin of my arm before his hand clasped around my throat just hard enough to stun but not restrict. With ease, he dipped his head low to meet my eyes.

  “Perhaps I can assist,” he hushed, drawing the words out as though with each breath. Warmth ignited at my core and my body, betraying my mind, moulded against him. Xavier shifted us both to the wall at my back, pinning me against it and lifting me from the ground with ease. I’d let no one handle me like this—I was always in control, no matter the size or confidence of the man I was with. Xavier, though, was different. He didn’t just exude arrogance or power, he was power. His large palms kneaded the plump flesh of my upper thighs as he bent my knees over his shoulders. In the space of a dizzying second, the shorts were gone, ripped from my body, and his mouth was latched against my panty-covered pussy. A strangled moan left my lips as his tongue teased the material—cold and determined.

  “This isn’t happening,” I stammered, surprised my words were coming out in the correct order.

  “Do you want me to stop, or do you want me to make you scream?” Xavier asked, inhaling the scent of my arousal as his black eyelashes fluttered to allow his eyes to meet mine.

  “No,” I cursed.

  “Which one will it be, Quinn?” He asked again. The feel of his icy breath against me was almost too much to bear, especially as the tips of his skilled fingers lingered at the waistband of my underwear. “Quinn?” He repeated, louder this time. “Quinn?”

  My entire body jolted into an upright position, my chest heaving in gulps of air as though I’d been starved of oxygen. Sweat dampened the large t-shirt I was wearing, and the sheets were a tangled mess around my bare legs.

  “I apologise if I disturbed you,” Xavier said, forcing me to look in his direction. He was leaning against the doorframe, an almost smug smile on his face. “I left you to rest as long as possible, but I have a meeting this afternoon and you wanted to speak with your boss.”

  “Yes, yes I did,” I stammered, running my hands back through my matted hair as I tried to wipe the feel of Xavier’s mouth on me from memory. “Just give me a second, I’ll get dressed.”

  “Mariella brought you those,” he nodded towards a pile of neatly folded laundry on the dresser. “There’s coffee downstairs. I’ll wait.”

  The door closed softly behind him as I allowed myself to fall back against the duck down pillows. “Fuck me.”

  It was a pleasant day, weather wise. Which was disappointing. After my hot and heavy dream about Xavier, I could’ve done with a literal breath of cool London air or a smattering of rain. When I walked into the kitchen, my face still flushed and my heart rate a few beats too fast, but I was dressed. Mariella hadn’t gone to my apartment, which was a relief, instead she had seemingly purchased a new outfit for me to wear and it was far more uncomfortable than I was used to. A pair of tight black jeans that hugged far too tight on my stomach and a silky black blouse that was not intended for women with my larger than average sized chest. I tugged the material closer together as I walked towards the cup of coffee waiting for me on the dining table and sat down, shuffling in the too tight clothes.

  “How are you feeling?” Xavier asked, his eyes focused on the iPhone in his hand as he sipped from his own mug.

  “Fine,” I replied, clearing my throat. “Not sure if I'm a superhero , but I’m not dead or dying so that’s a bonus.”

  Xavier let a huff of laughter escape, dropping his phone down onto the table and staring at me.

  “I trust you slept well?” He continued, his voice teasing, and I blushed.

  “Like the dead,” I quipped, trying to maintain some form of a poker face. “When in Rome, I guess.”

  The joke seemed to have the desired effect and the tension between us once again faded away into pleasantries. Xavier hadn’t been wrong about time getting on. It was already eleven thirty. No doubt Thatch would be getting ready to head for his usual lunchtime pint at the Friar’s.

  “What time is your meeting this afternoon?” I asked, draining the last of my coffee. It was bitter and without milk or sugar, which wasn’t ideal, but I was so parched I’d have drunk anything at this point.

  “Three,” he replied sharply, glancing at his wristwatch for a brief second before his eyes met mine again. “You look good.”

  My lips parted as if I knew what I was going to say, but nothing came out except some strange gasping noise that, thankfully, Xavier ignored. I watched in embarrassment as he buttoned his suit jacket with ease and lifted his hand to the doorway.

  “Shall we?”

  It was like communicating with some old Victorian gentleman, forever polite and stiff as a board. The idea of Xavier hiding his true self, or at least his actual personality, from me was unsettling, but I decided at that moment to ignore my intrusive thoughts and follow his lead. After all, what choice did I have? I had no idea what I was doing in this world, and I needed to find Jocelyn. For now, I guess I just had to grin and bear it, as they say.

  Xavier’s usual driver was outside waiting, which was a relief, as his driving was far more palatable than Xavier’s. Plus, there was something kind in Richard’s face that put me at ease. Like I wasn’t the only human amongst the vampires.

  Before long, the office came into view and Richard, the driver, was pulling into the side of the road. The drive had passed so slowly I’d almost allowed myself to slip back to sleep. After a restless night and a few days of driving around London, I was so tired that not even my usual four cups of coffee would wake me. Xavier had warned me that drinking his blood would make me feel like a superhero, but so far, I felt like Superman after taking a long bath in Kryptonite.

  My eyes deceived me as we entered the office, and before I reacted, Xavier was already poised in front of me, as though ready to pounce. Firmly, I set my hand on his arm and pushed him aside. Reluctantly, he shifted so that my eyes met with Thatcher’s. He wasn’t beaten black and blue, but he wasn’t in good shape. Tripping over my feet, I rushed to get to him, untying him from the office chair with my trembling fingers.

  “Thatch? Who did this? Thatcher?” I repeated as his head lolled side to side. He was barely conscious after what looked like a decent blow to the head.

  “Old man has more fight in him than you let on, Quinn.” My chest tightened as the hairs on my arms prickled to stand to attention. That voice. The voice I’d imagined hearing every day for what felt like a lifetime. The voice I’d been searching for this whole time.

  From the darkness of the back room, her figure emerged, cloaked in a hooded black coat as if she herself was death. Come to take me away to join her in whatever hell she’d been in this whole time.

  “Beth,” I breathed, frozen and unable to move. “Beth?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  She didn’t answer me, but her eyes lowered as though she were ashamed to admit that it was her, that she was alive. I had so many questions, so many things I didn’t understand.

  “You need to stop,” she said sternly, her plump lips parted in concern. It was the same expression I’d seen so many times before. Whenever I’d go off with some random guy at a club or sit down to eat an entire tub of Ben and Jerry’s all to myself. It was the look she gave me when I was being stupid.

  But I wasn’t being stupid. Not this time.

  She had disappeared without a trace and now here she was, standing right in front of me like nothing had happened. She didn’t have the right to tell me what to do, not anymore. She certainly didn
’t have the right to make me feel like a fool.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, unsure how to talk to her—especially now that she wasn’t who I thought she was.

  Xavier remained hovering by the doorway on the balls of his feet, ready to rip her slight body apart if she made just one wrong move. I’d seen what he could do and there was no hesitation in my mind that he wouldn’t wait for me to give the go ahead.

  “Stop searching for those that don’t belong to you,” she added, as if it explained everything.

  I stood from my place at Thatcher’s side and frowned at her, taking a step closer, hoping I’d get a better look at her face. The face I once knew better than my own.

  “Are you in trouble, Beth?” I questioned, but she merely looked away and took a step backwards, trying to maintain the distance between us.

  She shook her head. “It’s too late for you to help me. Help yourself, Quinn. This is way bigger than you know. It’s too dangerous. Just… stop looking.”

  My breath hitched in my throat and tears welled in the corners of my eyes. “Never.”

  “Then you’ll get yourself killed,” she hissed.

  “Is that why you came back? Just to tell me to stop looking for you?” I scowled, suddenly enraged by the sheer audacity of her attitude. “To stop looking for Jocelyn?”

  Beth stalled and Xavier pushed forward, blocking the exit.

  Beth closed her eyes and breathed slowly, in through her nose and out through her mouth, just like she’d taught me to do. “I came here because I don’t want you to get hurt over something you can’t stop.”

  “Why come here? Why hurt Thatcher?” I demanded, knowing I couldn’t let her leave without giving me something. Anything.

  “Because when I went to your flat, I smelt nothing but him,” she growled, focusing her eyes on Xavier. “I came here but the old man isn’t welcoming to our kind, is he? Sallow?”

  The words didn’t compute as well as they should have, and I ignored them.

  “Let me help you, Beth, whatever it is… whatever you’re involved in, I can help.”

  “Do yourself a favour, Quinn—stay out of this. And stay away from him.”

  A low growl rumbled in Xavier’s broad chest, but Beth ignored it as though it were nothing. An everyday occurrence. She finally walked past me and towards the exit, slipping past Xavier’s scowling, domineering form and walking out onto the street.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, stomping my feet as I tried to decide between running after her and helping Thatch, whose eyes had finally fluttered open.

  Xavier crossed the room until he was by Thatch’s side. He took his pulse before glancing at his eyes and turning his attention to the small sink in the corner by the coffee pot. He grabbed one of the plastic tumblers and poured a small amount of water into it before passing it over to me.

  “Get him to drink and monitor him. I’m going to have someone go after her.” He signalled to his driver to come inside, but I grabbed his arm and lowered it forcefully.

  “No,” I ordered. “Let her go.”

  Thatcher was left with nothing but a mild concussion and an absolute arse-kicking headache, according to him at least. As usual, he’d refused to go to the hospital to get checked out and instead voted on having Barb from the Friar’s come over and keep an eye on him for the night. He didn’t ask many questions, and I wondered if he had much memory of the whole thing at all. Either that, or he was far too focused on Xavier being present.

  “I brought a couple of those pork pies you like, Thatcher,” Barbara’s voice bellowed from the front door but faded out when she laid eyes on Xavier, who was keeping a safe distance from Thatch and was currently leaning back in my desk chair like he owned the place. As was to be expected, he stood up and adjusted his suit jacket before reaching a large hand over to shake hers.

  “Xavier Sallow, it’s a pleasure,” he purred, but Barbara remained silent for the first time in what I presumed could’ve been her life. Her thin, wrinkled lips lifted into a smile and she looked over at me.

  “Well doll, you’re punching a bit, aren’t you?” She cackled hoarsely, as though she’d just told the joke of the century. “Phwoar, blimey,” she added. “Anyway, the old man fella alright? Hanging in there?”

  Thatch ignored her, not even offering a grunt in acknowledgement, but instead zeroing his eyes on Xavier.

  “Call me if he gets any worse. I won’t be far away,” I said, stepping away from Thatch and making my way towards the exit. Thatch reached out and grabbed my wrist, leaning forward in his wheelchair before he spoke.

  “Don’t trust him,” he sneered. “Never trust them.”

  I peeled my hand out of his grasp and nodded. “I know.”

  As soon as we were back in the car and the doors were closed behind us, I flaked back into the soft leather seats with a groan.

  “Are you alright?” Xavier asked out of courtesy.

  “Well, my best friend just came back from the dead so yeah, I’d say I’m just fan-fucking-tastic.”

  I closed my eyes, shaking my head before I looked over at Xavier, whose expression seemed genuinely concerned.

  “You can trust me, Quintessa.”

  It was almost impossible to look at him, but when he twisted and reached to place his finger beneath my chin and forced my face to his, it was unavoidable. Our eyes met and flashbacks of my dream came flooding back, my body responding immediately despite my best attempts to deny it.

  “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” I replied as casually as possible, knowing that he could hear my racing heart as it battled to escape from my chest.

  “Come with me to my meeting. It could help,” he added, removing his hand and leaning away from me as though he were fighting his instincts as much as I was fighting mine.

  I cleared my throat, shaking the thoughts from the forefront of my mind. “How’s a stuffy room full of businessmen going to help me figure out what the hell happened to my best friend?”

  Xavier flinched a little at my tone but shrugged it off with ease. “I suppose we’ll see, shall we?”

  As far as I knew, Beth was a gentle, kind-natured, good friend and nothing more. At least, she had been.

  There’d been no suspicion there, nothing that I’d picked up on in the years we spent living together. How could I have spent every moment with a person and just now find out they’re a completely different person? It was almost inconceivable. Yet the way she’d warned me about Xavier, the look in her eyes… it made me feel like there was still a little part of that girl I knew in there. Maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe not. All I knew was that I had to find out.

  The car didn’t pull up outside an office building in central London as I had expected, but stopped outside an old, stuffy bookstore instead. I frowned, but Xavier shot me a look that told me he’d explain later and I followed without question as he got out of the car and headed inside. Upon walking into the shop, the smell of old, musty books, and chamomile tea practically hit me in the face. Rows upon rows of bookshelves lined not only walls but any spare room in the building. Xavier struggled through the narrow aisle, his shoulders almost grazing the wooden shelves as he passed. There was no doubt in my mind that this wasn’t a normal business meeting and boy was I proved right when an older gentleman came into view behind a cluttered sales counter. He was disheveled, long, thinning grey hair was pulled back from his gaunt face that housed beady brown eyes and pointed ears. I watched in confusion as he punched buttons on a vintage till that clanged and rung out each time he paused.

  “Bollocks and fucking brandy wine!” He yelled, his voice higher than I’d expected. Xavier cleared his throat and came to a standstill in front of the peculiar looking man, waiting for him to acknowledge his presence.

  “Seamus,” Xavier said, trying to get his attention. “Seamus, I’m here to talk. Do you remember?”

  Although Xavier’s posture was as starkly intimidating as it always was, his voice was quiet and polite. Ma
ybe he had some respect for his environment, bookshops, and libraries were supposed to be places of peace and solitude. Or at least, that’s what I presumed. I wasn’t one for books. Unless we were talking about the vast library of erotic novella’s I had sitting on my Kindle at home. That was more of a lonely night-time activity fuelled by a lack of other options than a thirst for knowledge on my part and from a quick glance at some books on the shelves, I’m guessing this store wasn’t for the usual literary fiction I was used to.

  “I’ve had this thing for years. Too many to count. It’s never worked properly. I ought to go back in time and strangle the salesman I bought it from.” The man Xavier had referred to as Seamus finally looked up, his round glasses slipping down his crooked nose as he looked between Xavier and I. “It’s not Tuesday already, is it?” He clapped his palms to his chest urgently, pulling out a pocket watch and frowning at it.

  “Seamus, this is urgent. I’d prefer it if we could close up and talk in the back for a while. Is that OK with you?”

  Still stunned by Xavier’s manners, I remained silent, my feet planted on the slightly sticky ground.

  “Yes, yes, that’s fine. But I stand by the fact it isn’t Tuesday and I don’t want to hear otherwise, pardon me,” Seamus said, walking out from behind the counter and shoving his way past us both and towards the door, where he took the time to glance out the grimy window before turning the sign around to show ‘closed’.

  “I think I just brewed tea,” he added, storming past us once again and hopping his way up a short flight of stairs, disappearing through the door and letting it swing frantically behind him.

  Xavier pressed his hand to my lower back and urged me up with the same stairs, the floral scent of tea continuing to get stronger.

  “Don’t mind Seamus, he’s peculiar but harmless,” Xavier whispered in my ear as we moved.