Let Him Reign: An Underworld Romance
Page 6
"Did Coughlin fuck you tonight?" the man asks, making me momentarily lose my rhythm on Simon. Okay, that's an easy question, but I'm nervous about what this is all about. I don't want to say anything to screw over Eric, either.
"Yes."
"Why does he give a shit about you?" he asks.
"He-he doesn't," I reply honestly.
"She's lying," Simon tells the man. "Coughlin's got it bad."
When Mr. Drake strikes my neck, piercing through my skin with his razor-sharp fangs, I cry out from the painful sting. "Don't fucking lie to me again!" he snarls.
Goddamn vampires! Despite the pain, his venom causes my heart to race, improving the blood flow, which increases the production of endorphins at the same time. The same endorphins that are released during orgasms. I want to hate him, but it's hard when it feels so good. Too much venom and I'll beg him for more, completely forgetting why he should stop drinking from me.
"I-I don't think...he does give a shit," I reply with a shaky voice. "He just...he just wanted to fuck me."
"Have you fucked him before tonight?" Mr. Drake asks. Why does he care so much about me and Eric?
"Yes."
"When?"
"Several years ago...one night...at a Halloween party."
"That's it?" he asks, painfully jerking my head back with a handful of my hair.
"Yes. Ah!"
Another sharp bite. "Liar!"
"Tonight and that night...are the only times we've fucked. The only times...we've ever seen each other. I swear," I say between the forming sobs.
"Did he ask you anything about his father's death?" the stranger inquires, his fangs resting on the side of my neck in warning.
Why would he think he asked about that? Unless Brooke getting drained last night wasn't an accident. Oh God! Are they going to kill me, too? At least Noah and Riley are with Kayla, and if something happens to me, she'll take care of them. She loves them like her own.
"No. I swear! He just said he was back in town because of the funeral."
"There's something else you're not telling me," the vampire behind me says. I squeeze my eyes shut as Simon grips my hips to bounce me faster on his upward thrusting cock. I just pray they'll both leave me alone and let me go home soon.
"Coughlin offered any price...to pay off...the debt she owes me," Simon says to the stranger between his pants. "I refused."
He did? Eric actually tried to get me out of this place? He said he'd pay any price?
"Smart of you not to accept," the man replies.
"I know. He'll be back for her," Simon tells him. "Probably tomorrow night."
"Then we'll be waiting," Mr. Drake says.
I scream in pleasurable pain when he pierces my neck in yet another spot at the same time Simon sits up and uses his fangs to puncture through the soft skin of one of my breasts. There's nothing I can do but gasp through their manufactured orgasms as my body continues to shake, wanting more of what they give me while despising them at the same time.
"You're going to fuck Coughlin for me when he comes back. Do it so good that he stays very distracted, and if you breathe a word about this to him, you'll never see your sons again," the man warns. The metal of his belt jingles and then his zipper is undone behind me before he pushes me forward onto Simon’s chest. "Now, let's see if you're as good of a fuck as Simon claims."
Thankfully that's all I remember before I lose consciousness.
Chapter Three
Eric
"Sir? I'm sorry, Your Grace," the aging butler says when he quickly shuffles into my father's old office.
"Yes, Charles? And you know you don't have to be all formal and shit with me."
"Very well, sir. There's a...a woman here to see you. The guards at the gatehouse approved her through."
"Tell her to take a number and go the fuck away," I reply without lifting my eyes from the book I'm trying to decipher, one that explains in Old English the spells that can easily end bloodlines.
"Sir, she looks upset, and is saying something about two young children..."
A woman upset about children? Hope? I'm out of the chair an instant later, practically jogging to the front door. What I find stops me short.
Hope, looking so damn young and innocent, is standing in the foyer wearing jeans and a white sweater, her wavy strawberry-blonde hair streaming over both shoulders. Tears pour down her cheeks. When I see her neck I barely contain my growl.
"What happened?" I ask, taking a step closer to tilt her head up, so I can see the angry, red marks on her neck. There's at least three fucking sets of puncture wounds.
"They have my boys!"
The air is knocked out of my lungs when she breaks down sobbing. I wrap my arms around her, holding her while her body shakes.
“Who has them?” I ask. It sounds like she says “vampires” but she’s too distraught to understand.
"I know you’re upset, Hope, but I need you to tell me what you know, so we can try to find them and get them back, okay?"
Her head nods against my chest.
"Kayla...my best friend...vampires at her house."
"You think the boys are still there? With vampires?" I ask and when she nods again a cold chill of dread runs down my spine. "Where does she live? Give me her address."
"719 Bridge Street, apartment—apartment 1B."
“Who are the vampires?” I ask, having a bad feeling that I already know.
"Last night...after you left, another vampire came into the room…with Simon…asking questions-"
"What was his name?"
"Um, a Mr. Drake. I think…I think that’s what he called him."
"Son of a bitch!" I yell, holding her tighter. Fucking Drake. Her sons are in danger and it's my fault. The weight of the guilt is so immense it almost brings me to my knees. I've never experienced anything like it, and I know that I've got to do whatever it takes to get them back for her.
"What did Drake want? Did he ask you about me?"
"Yes, and he told me…that when you came back…I was to...keep you distracted for him."
"He did this to you?" I ask, running my fingertips over the red puncture marks on her neck. My other fist clenches so hard that my lion's claws threaten to break through. I close my eyes to calm the anger. Me shifting into an enormous beast is not something Hope needs to see right now.
"Yes, he…he struck me…whenever he thought I was lying."
If he thought she was lying then she probably was since vampires are walking polygraph machines. That means she'd tried to lie to protect me, even though she knew they'd hurt her for it. I owe her for getting dragged into this shit all because I was weak and had to fuck her again.
"You look pale. How much blood did that bastard take?" I ask.
“I-I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Please, Eric…just…help me. Help me find my boys.”
"Charles?" I yell, knowing he's always close by, trying to be all helpful and shit. He appears in the foyer seconds later. "I need you to take care of her while I'm gone."
"Yes, sir. Of course."
I let Hope go, turning her over to the old man. "We're gonna get them back right now. They'll be safe in your arms within an hour, you hear me?" I assure her, and I hope to hell it's not a lie.
"Thank you. Just...be careful," she says before Charles leads her away down the hallway.
I pull my cell phone out of my slacks and call Ryan, the commander of our small army and head of my security, as I walk out the front door.
"Sir?" He answers right away, as he damn well better.
"Get someone over to 719 Bridge Street, apartment 1B now, and do a headcount. I want twenty men ready to go as soon as he reports back, and twenty more ready as backups. Got it?"
"Yes, sir. I'm on it."
By the time I walk the few hundred feet to the guard house, three black Suburbans are being loaded with large bodies and a shitload of ammo. Not that we'll probably need it, but I want to be prepared.
When our look
out reports back that there are two kids, a woman, and only four bloodsuckers I almost feel insulted by how easy Drake is making this. I hope for Hope's sake that everything goes smoothly, and that her three-year-old boys haven't been harmed. If they have...the mere thought causes rage to bubble up inside of me, so damn intense the sizzling energy feels like it’s about to seep out of my pores.
The normally short drive into town seems like it takes ages since I'm on edge and my alpha blood is boiling. Yesterday I never would've imagined that within the next twenty-four hours I'd be ready and actually looking forward to ending these bastards' lives. I've taken a life before, several actually. But this time it's different because I'm not doing it under my father's orders to punish people who crossed him. When I was just thirteen he started commanding me to slit men’s throats, sometimes to punish them for nothing more than not paying a year’s worth of his tribute. Of course it worked real well as a deterrent, but the guilt ate away at me. It was even worse when I turned fifteen and could finally shift. After that, my father ordered me to execute without the use of weapons, making me use my werelion teeth and claws so that the blood was literally on my hands, or worse, a bitter taste in my mouth. Back then I dreaded ending lives, but today I want these fuckers to die by my hands, or at least my will.
Finally we pull up in the parking lot in front of the row of four small, one level apartments. The eyes of the sole grungy vampire out front of 1B widen an instant before I unleash the power, commanding enough pressure in his skull to make blood seep from all his orifices, right before his head explodes. If I can see them, I can control them, hurt them, or end them by simply exerting my alpha dominance over them.
The vampire that steps outside to investigate meets the same fate. Lesson learned, the two remaining inside begin firing shots at us. We're in bulletproof vehicles, but the woman and kids inside aren't. Without giving them time to unload, I reach for the car door right as I hear the clicks of it locking.
"Sir," Ryan starts to say from the driver's seat. "I can't let you go in there. It's not worth the risk."
I stare down the lifetime military officer wearing black fatigues with his coal colored hair buzzed short. Ryan has worked for my dad the last ten years and is now in charge. I know without having to look that the platinum medallion dog tags around his neck, just like the one all of our men wear, displays a wolf under his last name Bailey. The wolf is the animal of his bloodline, strong but not dominant to the lion. The man has known me since my rebellious teen years, hell even my rebellious twenties. This is where the regret catches up with me. Now that I'm in charge of an entire society, I'm still going to be treated as that same boy who acted out, refusing to take on any responsibility, lacking confidence, and motivation.
"You must have me confused with one of your soldiers because I sure as fuck don't need your permission. Give me your vest," I order him.
The narrowed-eyed look on his red, scowling face tells me he'd rather eat shit than obey my alpha command even though he's powerless to do anything but what I say. I could order him to jump off a bridge and he'd have no choice but to do it.
He takes off and hands me his Kevlar which I put on even though it's likely unnecessary. I want to show the rest of my men I'm not completely careless.
Once the vest is strapped on I ask for a gun since shifting in public is frowned upon and causes problems, and then I start for the entrance. A guard takes point while several more stay flanked beside me. Again, I know I can't go barging recklessly into the apartment. One shot to my head could be enough to take me out. Could, but that's not a guarantee.
The first guard pushes the faded blue front door open, causing more gunfire. I order my men to hold theirs because I don't know where the woman and kids are. God, it'd be horribly tragic to have them hurt because of one of my own men.
The wild shots are evidently a last ditch attempt before we watch the two vampires try and make a run for it out the back door, which of course is already surrounded by men. I'll deal with them in a second, but first...
I rush to the only closed door in the apartment, turning the knob and pushing it open to reveal a woman on the floor between the wall and the bed with her arms protectively over two little strawberry-blond boys. Hair just a little darker than their mother's. Quickly shoving my gun out of sight and away in the back of my pants, I try to figure out a way to reassure them, to let them know they're all right.
With my palms facing up and facing outward I show them they’re empty and take a tentative step forward. "Hey, we're the good guys, okay? You're safe now. I promise we're gonna take you back to your mom."
The young brunette glances over her shoulder and gives me a once over like she's not entirely convinced. That's when I notice her black eye, bloody nose, and mouth.
"How bad are you hurt? Are the boys?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "They're okay. Just...scared. Who the hell are you?" She doesn’t tell me anything about her condition, but winces like she's in pain from just saying those few words.
“Kayla, right? I’m Eric, and I’m here because Hope came to me for help.”
She nods and her tense shoulders finally relax with her acceptance that I’m not going to harm them. I look out in the hall to see who's near me, calling out to the guards with the closest name tags so we can get moving.
"Jacobs. Wyatt. Load them in the Suburban, take the boys back to the house with at least six other guards, and then take her to the hospital. You will keep them safe and protect them with your own lives if necessary," I order.
We have a regular physician always on call, but I'm afraid the woman may have some type of internal bleeding that might require surgery. I don’t want to waste any more time getting her treated.
"Yes, sir," both men say before taking a few steps forward into the room. The movement causes the three on the floor to all cower when they get a closer look at the men in army fatigues.
"I promise they're going to take you to your mom, and they won't hurt you. We have to hurry up and get you out of here, so you need to go with them now."
One boy gets right to his feet and comes around the bed, ready to go and the other eventually follows suit. Wyatt squeezes into the small space and sweeps the woman up in his arms while Jacobs puts a boy on each hip and tells them to close their eyes. God, I hope they don't see what's left of the vampires' brains scattered on the front lawn.
Once they all make it safely to the vehicles I walk out the back door to the small fenced in patio to finish up the dirty work. My guys have the two panic stricken men circled, guns pointed within inches of their heads with their arms held straight up in the air.
"Stand back unless you want to wear brains home," I tell my men who all retreat a few steps but keep their weapons steady. My words have the two vampires, an older, white-haired one and a young vamp with a black Mohawk, two complete opposites, both pleading for mercy.
"Please, Your Grace!" the goth one begs at the same time the elderly one says, “We can explain.”
"Any last words?" I ask, but I’m so furious thinking about the innocent woman’s injuries, two scared little boys, and Hope’s frightened desperation that I release the coiled power, blowing their heads off without another single thought. I wait for the guilt to assault me, but it’s absent after killing four vampires. Instead of guilt there’s worry because a part of me actually enjoyed inflicting instant justice. I shouldn’t be this cold and detached after committing murder. It’s entirely possible that I’m becoming the monster my father was, and the most concerning part of that notion is my lack of remorse.
"We've wasted enough time and I'm ready to go home. Someone clean this shit up," I tell my men after shaking off the concern, or lack of concern, for my actions. There's nothing to worry about with local cops since the Coughlins have paid the entire police force’s overinflated salary for years, but it's just decent to remove the mess we made.
On the ride home my thoughts are on Hope. What will she do now that her boys are sa
fe? Leave town? If that’s what she wants, I’d give her whatever money she needed to make it happen, but I really don’t want to let her go after finally finding her again. Which is ridiculous, since there’s no future for us other than her warming my bed. That’s all I can offer her since I have no choice but to commit to someone else.
When I walk through the front door I find Hope kneeling down in the entryway with her arms around her two boys.
I don't know a damn thing about kids since I was an only child, but I’m almost certain that they're somewhat traumatized from the past few hours.
"Thank you," Hope says when she looks up at me with glistening emerald eyes.
Relaxing her hold on the twins and getting to her feet, she swipes away the tears, then she's on me, holding onto my neck like I'm the only thing that's keeping her grounded on Earth. I'm not sure what to do with her gratitude at first other than return her embrace. Actually this may be the first time in my life that someone's been appreciative of me. Of something I did. Not that I'd gone alone. It's easy to be brave and take on a few vampires when you're flanked by a few dozen armed military men.
"It was nothing-" I say.
She shakes her head, burying her face in the crook of my neck. "It was everything."
Holy shit. I think I'm drowning. There's a flood of warmth and...something else that I've never felt before, trying to smother me. And I don't want to fight it or escape whatever it is. No, I want more of this even if it kills me. That's when I realize that I'd rather die than hurt or disappoint this woman in my arms. It doesn't matter that I just met her and don't know a damn thing about her other than her horrid profession. All that's irrelevant. She's mine to protect. She's mine period.
When her lips place a moist kiss on my neck lust burns and spreads like a wildfire through me, making me desperate to take her to bed and claim her, possess her, and hear her scream my name.
"Mommy, I'm thirsty," one of the boys says, reminding me that we're not alone and this is not the time or place for those carnal thoughts.