Wild Thing: A Vampire Paranormal Romance (Blueblood Vampires Book 2)
Page 3
Hastily, I collect all the pieces of my clothing scattered on the floor and get dressed. The only thing I’m missing is my underwear, which I find after a minute under a chair. Well, I find what’s left of it, nothing more than scraps of torn fabric. I guess I’m going commando then.
Saxon makes another noise, and my heart leapfrogs to my throat. I turn around, but he’s still sound asleep, although I notice a frown on his face. I should leave, but my feet bring me closer to his satin-sheet-covered bed. His eyelids are twitching; he must be having a dream.
“Kari…no,” he mutters.
Kari. Who the hell is Kari? That sounds like a girl’s name.
Jealousy spears my chest, confusing the hell out of me. Why would I care if Saxon was dreaming about another girl? It’s not like I have feelings for the guy. Until a day ago, I didn’t want anything to do with him. And just because he gave me the best orgasms of my life, I’m not stupid enough to let that morph into affection.
I turn away, grab my purse from the floor, and sneak out of his bedroom without glancing back. The door closes with a soft click, which sounds much louder in the silent hallway. I don’t see a soul as I head to the ground floor, not even a familiar, which is pretty lucky. No one to witness my walk of shame.
The front door is not locked from the inside, and once I’m out in the courtyard, I pull my cellphone out. There are several missed calls from my mother, and even a couple from Miranda. My mother must be truly desperate to talk if she’s using my little sister to reach me.
Miranda left me a voice message, so I press the button to listen to it while I walk out of the dark mansion Saxon calls home. I can’t call an Uber from here. I’d like to keep last night a secret if I can.
Fat chance of that happening, Aurora. Everyone at Havoc saw you sucking face with Saxon on the dance floor.
Oh God. I hope there aren’t pictures. That would send my mother into a rage, and seriously destroy my image at Bloodstone. So far, I’ve been able to keep most of the douchebags away from me, but if word gets out that I hooked up with Saxon, I can bet I’ll be swarmed by a wave of horny Bluebloods trying to score a piece of the High Witch’s daughter. It’s like I’m a prize to them or something. Dumbasses.
“Hey, big sis.” Miranda’s voice sounds in my ear. “Where have you been? Mom is going crazy trying to locate you. Call me as soon as you hear this message. She’s not telling me anything, so I need to hear all the deets from you. Bye!”
I’m not surprised Mom is not talking. It’s her MO to be secretive. I’ll call Miranda later. She can’t help me get out of an arranged marriage, but she’ll listen to my whining without bitching about it. She’s the middle child and the most chill in our family of deranged witches. Niko is another story. A total brat.
When I finally reach a road with more traffic, I pull up the Uber app and get a ride. Miranda would pick me up in a heartbeat, but I’m not ready to disclose where I spent the night. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ll ever tell a soul. I’m not ashamed that I hooked up with Saxon, I’m ashamed I broke my own promise to never get involved with any vampire.
I find a medium-sized rock near the side of the road and sit down. It’s less conspicuous than standing like a hippie looking to hitchhike. I left in such a hurry that I didn’t even have the chance to check my appearance. Using the video app, I glance at my reflection, immediately cringing at my state. Messy hair, smeared makeup, redness around my mouth and chin. I look like a dejected groupie or a whore. I’m not sure which is worse.
Aiming the phone at my neck, I inspect the damage Saxon left there. Surprisingly, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. There are only two small incisions that are already healing. A slight throbbing begins between my legs as I remember the feeling of Saxon drinking my blood as he fucked me. I close my eyes for a second, shivering. That moment resulted in the best orgasm of my life. Now I understand why humans fill Havoc night after night in the hopes of hooking up with a bloodsucker. There’s nothing in this world that compares to a vampire bite. Nothing.
And I will never get to experience that again. I bet Calvin is awful in the sack.
Oh God. If we get married, I’ll have to sleep with that asshole.
My stomach coils violently as sudden nausea hits me. I lean to the side, throwing up everything I consumed last night while the same thought keeps running through my head in a loop.
I can’t do it. I can’t marry Calvin Belmont.
By the time the Uber driver arrives, I have recovered from the nausea. But I’m more depressed than I was yesterday when I arrive at Bloodstone. The sun hasn’t set yet, so it’s a familiar manning the gates. I asked the driver to drop me off at the front to avoid going through the security check.
The familiar on duty, Mr. Goodwin, gives me an overall glance, but mercifully, keeps his expression devoid of disapproval. I know he must be thinking the worst about me, but as long as he doesn’t display his thoughts, I’m fine with it.
I have absolutely no desire to get out of my small dorm apartment for at least two days. Fuck my duties and fuck my mother. The first order of business is taking a shower and erasing for good any traces of Saxon from my skin. Then eat something, because I need food to get rid of this damn hangover.
But all I manage to do in peace is to shower. There’s a knock on my door as I head to the kitchen in my bathrobe. I panic for a second, thinking Saxon tracked me down already. But then I remember the sun is still out. Oh shit, then it must be my mother. Even worse. The last thing I want is to listen to a tongue-lashing from her, but it’s not like I can avoid her forever. Might as well get this over with.
So certain that I will find Isadora Leal outside, I don’t bother looking through the peephole. Big mistake. It’s not my mother standing in the hallway. It’s Calvin Belmont, looking smug as shit.
Damn it.
“Hello, Aurora.” He smiles slyly, displaying his flawless white teeth, which go hand in hand with his perfect coiffed hairstyle and preppy clothes. Barf.
“What are you doing here? How did you get past security?” I pull the lapels of my robe closer together.
“Oh, wow. Is this how you treat all your guests?”
“Only the uninvited ones.”
His cocky smile wilts as his fake warmth is all spent. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It was rude of me to simply show up.”
What a pitiful attempt to show remorse. He can’t hide the arrogance in his eyes for even one second.
“You still didn’t answer how you got in.”
“I came with your mother. She’s in a meeting with the principal now.”
Of course, Mom dearest had to be involved.
“May I come in?” Calvin asks.
I’m tempted to shut the door in his face, but that won’t do me any good. Besides, rebelling won’t change my fate. As much as I’d love to say to hell with traditions, if I don’t accept my engagement to Calvin, most likely, my training to become the next High Witch will cease immediately, and I’ll be kicked out of the coven. I’ll be forced to align myself with those rogue mages, selling potions and taking any assignment I can find. That’s a pretty bleak future.
With a resigned sigh, I open the door wider and move out of the way. “Sure, since you’re here.”
He takes an overall glance of my living room and kitchen, before turning around. “It’s my understanding you’re not happy about our engagement.”
Straight to the point. All right then. At least he doesn’t waste time with inane chitchat.
“No, I can’t say that I am.”
His eyebrows arch. “Why? I come from one of the most powerful magical families in the country. Our children will be unstoppable. I’m also not bad to look at.” He smiles in an arrogant way, and I can’t help comparing him to Saxon.
Sure, at first sight, Calvin can be considered attractive with his all-American preppy looks, but it’s impossible to admire his appearance once one catches a glimpse of his ugly heart.
Claiming attractiveness is something Saxon would say, but the difference is that his cockiness is sexy. Calvin’s comment only rubs me in the wrong way. He lacks the charisma Saxon has. A strange flittering feeling spreads through my chest, followed by a pang. What the hell is this? Do I miss Saxon?
“I’ve made you speechless. Does that mean you agree with me?” He invades my personal space, touching my arm. I must have zoned out for a second because I didn’t see him approach.
“Nope. I don’t agree with you.” I step back, but Calvin has me trapped between him and the kitchen counter.
Anger flashes in his eyes as he narrows them. “That’s too bad. Like me or not, you will be my wife.” He grabs my jaw in a rough grip, tilting my head up.
My heart goes to a hundred in a split second as adrenaline kicks in. Raw magic flares in my core, spreading at the speed of light through my veins.
“Let go of me,” I say through clenched teeth.
“I think you need a demonstration of how things are going to work from now on.” He crushes his dry lips against mine, nauseating me on the spot.
But he only has a second to enjoy the stolen kiss before I blast him with a thousand volts of electricity. He flies back, hitting the opposite wall with a loud bang. Holy shit. I can’t believe I was able to summon that much juice at once without the assist of a crystal.
Calvin is on his ass, looking at me with a dazed expression. I don’t even think he knows where he is right now. But he only remains stunned for a few more seconds. When he recovers from the blast, his eyes flash murderous intentions. I don’t care. I’m not afraid of him.
I march to the front door, opening it wide. “Get out of here before I call security.”
He staggers back to his feet, not once breaking eye contact with me. His nostrils are flared like he’s some kind of rabid beast.
“You’ll regret this, Aurora. But don’t worry, we’ll have a lifetime together. I’ll teach you to be a good and obedient wife.”
“Get the fuck out!”
He walks slowly, enjoying my loss of control if the chilling smile on his lips is any indication. I bang the door shut when he leaves, but I can’t erase the feeling of doom his parting comment gave me. I hug myself, trying to stop the tremors that are rocking through my body. Damn it. I can’t believe he got me rattled like this.
He’ll punish me for denying him. Well, he can try. He clearly has no idea who he’s dealing with.
5
Saxon
I stretch my arm, thinking in my half-asleep state that I’m going to find Aurora next to me. But all I get is the feel of my cold satin sheets. I open my eyes, confirming that I’m alone in bed. She’s not in the bathroom either—I’d sense it if she were. She’s gone. Disappointment unfurls in the center of my chest, and not because I won’t get my evening-after sex. This is different, but hell if I know why. Most of the time, I’m relieved when a hookup leaves on her own.
With a groan I sit up. My entire body aches thanks to the out-of-this-world sex marathon from the night before. My morning wood becomes a rock-hard erection in the blink of an eye just by remembering the feel of Aurora’s pussy wrapped around my cock and the taste of her blood on my tongue. I still can’t believe she offered me her vein.
My gums ache as my fangs descend. I’m suddenly starving, thirsty for more from her. The powerful sensation leaves me lightheaded. My room begins to spin, and if I wasn’t sitting down, I might have fallen on my ass. What the fuck is going on?
Closing my eyes, I press the heel of my hand against my forehead, trying to stop the room from revolving. The feeling passes after a moment, but I’m still worried this shit happened in the first place. Maybe Aurora’s witch blood messed with me. I’ve never drunk from a magical being before. Or maybe she hexed me. But why would she do that? She can’t possibly be suffering from buyer’s remorse. I’m not being conceited when I say I rocked her world. Her many orgasms attest to that.
I get out of bed, feeling restless now. What I need is a good workout to forget about Aurora. As much as I would love a repeat, hunting season is over. I got what I wanted and that has to be enough. She’s the High Witch’s daughter, engaged to marry another guy. I have no business getting in the middle of it.
As soon as I reach the main area of the mansion that I’ve called home for a long time, one of the staff asks if I’m ready for my dinner. Unlike in most Blueblood households, there isn’t a single familiar working here. Gerard Norton is a human in his late fifties who we hired two decades ago. He’s a jack-of-all-trades and mega discreet.
“I’ve procured five young ladies who have not been sampled by any other vampire,” he continues.
Yesterday, I’d be more than ready to drink from all of them. Gerard knows my taste; I bet every single one of those girls is gorgeous. Tonight, the prospect of drinking from any of them doesn’t appeal to me, despite my hunger. Damn it. Aurora better not have ruined me for others.
“Can you just send a few warm blood bags to the gym?”
His eyebrows shoot through the roof. “Are you certain?”
“Yeah. Save them for Ronan. I’m sure he’ll appreciate having first pick for once.”
Gerard always comes to me first when he has fresh blood in the house. It’s not because he favors me. I pay him extra for the perk, a fact Ronan either doesn’t know or couldn’t care less about.
“He has eaten already.”
“From whom?”
“Not from any of the new girls,” Gerard is quick to assure me. “He too opted for warm blood bags.”
I hear the annoyance in his tone. Gerard thrives on being the best at what he does. The fact Ronan and I aren’t willing to taste the nourishment he procured is probably rubbing him the wrong way.
“Well, don’t take it personally. Ronan is a weirdo.”
“And you must still be full,” he replies.
I narrow my gaze, not appreciating the remark. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Quickly, an expression of contrition appears on his face. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I misspoke.”
He must have seen Aurora sneak out earlier. I’m aggravated, but Gerard is not to blame. Why am I annoyed that Aurora left without saying a word? I’m seriously beginning to think her blood screwed up something in me.
To avoid saying something I’ll regret to him, I head to the back of the mansion where the gym is. It’s a sizeable detached building equipped with the most modern workout equipment there is on the market. We also have one of the largest arsenals of hand combat weapons at our disposal.
Since it’s nighttime, I don’t bother taking the underground tunnel. I head out of the house through the back door, enjoying the pine-scented fresh air. It takes me back to the past, when pollution and noise didn’t overpower nature. I love modern times, but I also miss a simpler life where I could truly connect with the raw energy of the world. I also miss the era when there weren’t so many rules in place, where honor mattered, and despicable beings didn’t hide behind red tape and bullshit treaties.
Lucca is going to have a cow when he wakes up and discovers what his uncle did.
I’m not surprised to find Ronan already breaking a sweat, punching and kicking one of the punching bags. The male practically lives in the gym.
“Yo. How long have you been here?” I ask.
“An hour,” he replies without taking his eyes off his target.
“You’ve been here before sundown?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He swings a powerful punch, followed by a roundhouse kick. The chains attached to the ceiling rattle perilously. They’re the strongest kind, but from time to time, either Ronan or I will break them off.
“Why not?” I pull my T-shirt off, preferring to work out bare-chested.
Ronan doesn’t answer right away, which draws my attention to his face. He’s usually a closed-off male, but I’ve known him long enough to recognize when something is worrying him.
“Did something happen?” I press.
My spine becomes taut as if an invisible string were pulling it. “She was here last month. Do you think she can wake Lucca from hibernation this time?”
“I don’t know, Sax. He’s been sleeping for far too long.” The next punch sends the bag swinging high.
That’s how Ronan copes with his feelings, by pounding and breaking things. We’re all worried about Lucca. He’s been gone for ninety-five years. Manu, his younger sister, is acting more deranged than usual due to that. There’s a dark cloud looming over our heads. The possibility that Lucca might not wake up this time is something none of us want to discuss, but it’s in our minds constantly.
Lucca is not only King Raphael’s heir, he’s my friend, my brother. We’ve been through so much throughout the centuries. He’s the reason I’m not some soulless monster. I owe him everything. We’ve survived bloody wars, battlefields, and assassination attempts. It’s not fair that we’re losing him to a fucking curse.
I veer toward the sword display on the other side of the room. The shining katana mounted on the very top is my favorite blade in the collection. The curved single-edged sword is considered the most perfect and effective handheld weapon that humans have developed throughout history. I love how it’s light, agile, and lethal.
The pounding against leather stops, and then I sense Ronan approach. He reaches for the other katana on display, removing it from its sheath with a metallic whoosh of steel cutting air.
“Are you sure you’re up for it? You’ve been punishing that bag for how long?” My tone is light, almost joking. Someone has to keep the atmosphere positive around here or gloom will sink its claws into all of us and drag us down to a pit of despair.