Blood Debt: A Reverse Harem Vampire Romance (Kingdom of Blood Book 1)

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Blood Debt: A Reverse Harem Vampire Romance (Kingdom of Blood Book 1) Page 4

by Callie Rose


  Well… maybe they can.

  I shudder at that thought and decide I’d better get dressed quick and not risk it. After glancing around quickly, I move toward the old-fashioned wardrobe in one corner of the room and fling it open.

  It’s full of clothes in my size, and my brows knit as I pull a few items out to examine them. What the hell? How did they do this? There must’ve been some kind of communication between the auction master and the vampires who work in the palace. Once the tributes were on their way down, they probably started preparing our rooms for us, based on information provided by the auctioneer.

  The clothes are all tight, revealing, and verging on gaudy. Frosting for the dessert, I guess. Useless and eye-catching.

  I grimace, rifling through several outfits quickly. There has to be something in here which will let me disappear into the crowd.

  The most conservative thing in the entire wardrobe is a long, black, form-fitting dress with transparent lace cut-outs all over it. It’ll have to do. I wriggle into it and make a face at myself in the full-length mirror set along one wall. The fucking thing is so low cut that my cleavage is on full display. The vee dips down to my belly button, and the sleeves are three-quarter length, leaving my neck and wrists on display. The lace cut-outs are strategically placed to give peek-a-boo shots of my legs and the underside of my ass.

  For fuck’s sake.

  At least it isn’t pink.

  Once I’m dressed, I quickly gather up my discarded gown from the floor, scanning the room again. There aren’t a lot of hiding places in here, but I find an empty drawer in the bottom of the wardrobe. After messing with it for a minute, I manage to pull the bottom out of it. There’s enough space beneath for me to rig a false bottom, but it’ll take time. It’ll take time to get my weapons out of my dress, too, unless I decide to just tear the stupid thing to shreds. But that seems too risky.

  Too many people saw me in it. What if one of the vamps who came to watch the auction tells me to wear it later?

  On the other hand, I can’t risk having someone come in here and try to grab my dress to wash it while I’m gone. The weapons were hidden well enough to avoid detection so far, but if this thing gets put in the laundry, it’ll be all over.

  There’s only one thing to do. I put the bottom back in the drawer and fold my dress up tight, wadding it into as small of a bundle as possible. Then I shove it in the drawer, wincing as the heavy weapons thump dully against the wooden bottom.

  There. I’ll deal with it later, after the sun comes up and the vampires go to bed.

  I choose a pair of strappy black shoes from the wardrobe. They fit perfectly, which stresses me out more than the clothes do. A trained eye can glean a person’s waist size pretty easily, but shoe size? That’s psychic-level insight. If these vampires have a psychic working for them, I’m screwed. But unlike my towering stilettos, these shoes only have the smallest hint of a heel, and they lace up in all the right spots. I could run in these if I had to, which is always a plus.

  I’m about to take my jewelry off when someone knocks on my door. “Are you decent, my dear?”

  I smirk in spite of myself. Not usually.

  “Yes, come in.”

  The matron who escorted us through the halls earlier opens the door. She smiles when she sees me, although once again, nothing in her eyes seems to change to reflect the curve of her lips.

  “We didn’t formally meet earlier. I’m Anastasyia,” she says, holding out her hand. “Come on out here. Now that everyone’s dressed, I’ll show all of you around.”

  I join the other girls in the hall outside. The one who was crying the hardest on the way down here isn’t weeping anymore. She just looks tired and resigned now.

  “I don’t know how much you were told already,” Anastasyia says. “I always tell the men to leave the orientation to me, but some of them can’t help themselves and start talking on the way down the stairs.” She waves her hands in a fluttering gesture as if to brush that aside. “Anyway, this is the female tribute wing. All the women live here. No males allowed. Men live on the other side, where female tributes are forbidden. The vampires don’t like their humans mixing—pregnant tributes cause all kinds of moral and social complications, as you can imagine. It never ends well.”

  The way she talks about it makes me certain that it’s happened before, probably more than just once. Rage simmers at the base of my spine, and I clench my toes inside my shoes to keep from clenching my fists.

  “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you around.” Anastasyia gestures to the doors that dot the hallway around us. “These are, obviously, your bedrooms. You have one bathroom for every four bedrooms. Be respectful, and keep your space clean. I usually don’t have too much trouble with new tributes, but keep in mind that the binding ceremony won’t be for a few weeks.”

  “Will we still live in this wing after the binding ceremony?” one girl asks.

  “If you aren’t chosen by a particular vampire, then yes, you’ll stay here. If you are chosen, you’ll stay wherever your bonded vampire decides you should stay. Most of them prefer to have their bound tributes live with them in their rooms. A comfortable arrangement, I’m told, if occasionally exhausting.”

  Some of the girls giggle at that, sharing secretive glances or nudging each other. It’s all I can do to keep from shaking my head in disappointment.

  She’s not talking about sex, you idiots.

  She’s talking about the exhaustion that comes from losing a portion of blood every single day for the rest of your short life.

  This is why I didn’t bother to read the full contract before I signed it. Because I know that, no matter how much they try to disguise it in flowery language, this bargain is set up to benefit the vamps at the expense of humans. Ostensibly, we’re all here for an agreed upon period of time in exchange for an agreed upon amount of money. But if any vampires decide they want to keep one of us forever, they can do that, and there won’t be shit we can do about it.

  Or at least, that’s how it’s meant to work. I have no intention of letting any vampire get their fangs that deep in me.

  The vampire matron leads us further down the hallway, turning left before gesturing to a large room visible through a wide, arched doorway.

  “Here is the common room, where you can watch TV, play boardgames, read—we have all kinds of things for you to do on your down time. You will have computer access, but you should know that everything is strictly monitored, so don’t go posting on Read It or whatever it’s called about how you’re a blood tribute. Social media is strictly prohibited.”

  There aren’t as many disappointed noises as I expected. Up until now, I was pretty sure that most of these women did this for the bragging rights among their fellow vampire fanatics, but I guess not.

  “And around this corner is—oops!”

  Anastasyia begins to lead us down another corridor, but as we make the turn, we run right into a man coming from the opposite direction.

  Well, she sidesteps him. I run into him.

  I’m usually much lighter on my feet, but the pressure of the long evening, combined with the suddenness of his approach, catch me off-guard. I slam into his broad chest, and he grabs my arms to keep me upright.

  As I steady myself and glance up, I find myself staring at a guy who looks to be about my age or a little older, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six, with wavy blonde hair and eyes that remind me of a sunset through a chunk of amber. They almost look golden, and they’re framed by thick lashes that only accentuate their startling color more.

  “Oops, sorry,” he murmurs, his voice friendly and amused. “You okay there?”

  He rubs my arms as the group of women behind me grinds to a halt, sending pleasant sensations sparking across my skin. His gentle hands and unabashed smile make him the kind of guy I’d want to pick up after a brutal day in the field, just to bask in his optimism for a while.

  “Yeah.” I shake my head, grinning a little in spite of my
dire circumstance. “Fine.”

  Releasing my arms, he steps back a little and looks over my shoulder to address the rest of the group. “So sorry, ladies. I seem to have stumbled into the wrong wing. I’ll get the hang of this place eventually. I’m Connor, by the way.”

  His eyes twinkle in a way that lights up his whole face as he speaks. Damn, he really is cute as fuck. It’s a shame that fraternizing with the opposite gender isn’t allowed around here. I have a sudden wild thought that maybe I can smuggle him aboveground with me when I break Nathan out of here. No one this full of sunshine deserves to be locked up several stories below ground as food for vampires.

  “How long have you been here?” the girl behind me asks breathlessly.

  “Ah, just a few months. You’d think that would be long enough to learn your new home, but…” He shrugs haplessly, running a hand through his messy blond hair. “The other vampires keep promising me that I’ll get the hang of it, but I think they sorely underestimate my ability to screw things up.”

  He chuckles. The sound is warm and deep, but my brain is too busy short-circuiting to appreciate it.

  The other vampires?

  This guy is a bloodsucker?

  “But it’s great fun,” he continues, breaking out into another wide smile that displays even white teeth—and four pointed fangs. “Trying to figure out immortality and social rules and stuff all over again, while also mapping out a castle the size of my last neighborhood? Man, they just tossed me in here like, sure, you can swim!”

  The women behind me are laughing at his jokes, and I give a feeble attempt at a giggle to try to blend in. But I’m still trying to wrap my head around this new piece of information.

  He’s a newly turned vampire. Maybe that accounts for his sweet vibe and upbeat attitude—but I don’t know, I’ve met vampires who had only been turned recently who were already bloodthirsty psychos. Maybe he is too, when he isn’t showing off for a bunch of tributes.

  Why is he even bothering, anyway? Doesn’t he have all the power here? Why make the effort to charm us when he could just order us to do whatever he wants?

  Connor steps to one side, sweeping his arm out in an over-the-top chivalrous gesture to indicate that we could proceed. “I’ll get out of your way. You ladies look like you have places to be.” He shoots the matron a look, wrinkling his nose. “Um, Anastasyia?”

  “You’re looking for the main staircase again?”

  He nods sheepishly.

  She sighs. “Keep going this way, turn right at the end of the hall, take your first left, and it’ll be right there.”

  “Thanks. This is the last time I’ll ask, I promise. Well, maybe second to last.”

  He grins at her, and for the first time, I see her smile reflected in her eyes as she nods at him. As he heads away, she turns back to us.

  “Come on girls, you have more to see.” She starts walking down the corridor again, and the group falls in behind her. “Now, most of the time you’ll be having dinner with the vampires in the great hall, but for breakfast and lunch, you’ll be on your own. Up ahead is the kitchen for this wing. Same rules as the bathroom, respect each other and clean up after yourselves. I don’t want to have to ground anybody from—”

  I stop listening, dragging my feet a little and glancing back over my shoulder. Connor is heading away down the hall, but he looks over his shoulder at the same moment I do, and our eyes meet. His brow furrows thoughtfully, some expression passing across his face that I’m too far away to read.

  I can’t believe he’s a fucking vampire.

  When we first crashed into each other, I got a good vibe from him. I liked him—liked his goofy smile and relaxed demeanor.

  How the hell did that happen? Have my instincts already been blunted that badly by this role I’m playing?

  Is there a chance I’ve met him before, out on the streets somewhere? Have we ever faced off in a dark alley? No, I don’t think so. I would have remembered those eyes, that posture. Besides, I can’t really picture Connor hunting in the streets. He seems too… nice for that.

  I snap my head forward, gritting my teeth. I’m not going to stand here and rationalize vampires. They’re all inherently monsters, and no amber eyes or brilliant smile can change that fact.

  Get your head on straight, Mikka. Face forward, don’t look back. Vampires aren’t nice. They thrive on hunger, rage, lust, and pride. That’s it. Don’t humanize them, or you’ll never get out of this fucking place alive.

  Chapter Five

  Steeling my spine, I pick up my pace to rejoin the others, since I’ve fallen behind the group.

  The crying girl is trailing behind the pack too. The tear tracks on her face have dried, but she still looks sad as hell. She doesn’t seem interested in the library or kitchen or anything else. She cringes each time we pass an oil-painted portrait of a vampire and keeps shifting her arms to cover her cleavage and hips, tugging her skirt this way and that to give maximum coverage.

  She clearly doesn’t want to be here, playing this role she’s been forced into. That was obvious from the beginning, but now…

  I’ve never been big on alliances. I work alone. Teaming up with someone else or creating some kind of partnership has always seemed to be more trouble than it would be worth. But in a situation like this, making a similarly-minded friend might be helpful.

  “Hey,” I murmur to her in a low voice. “You doing okay?”

  She glances mournfully at me and shrugs. “As okay as I’m ever going to be again, I guess.”

  “Yeah. Can’t really argue with that.”

  She looks startled by my blunt, quiet words, then narrows her eyes at me. “Really? Seems like you wanted to be here just as bad as anybody.”

  “Seems like you don’t,” I shoot back, dodging the question. “So why are you?”

  She looks like she’s going to cry again. Please don’t, please don’t. She takes a breath to stop the tears, and I let out a quiet breath of relief. I’m not good with tears.

  “It’s my mom,” she tells me in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “She’s sick. She’s always been sick, and she’s going to keep being sick for the rest of her life. Last year, her Parkinson’s got worse. Way worse. She can barely see anymore, and her flare-ups never end so she can hardly move. Her medicine alone costs so much I had to take three jobs just to pay for it, and I couldn’t make enough to pay for a caretaker for her. She fell last month.”

  “Oh, no.”

  The girl nods and bites her trembling lip. “I wasn’t there. She was alone on the floor for ten hours, and I wasn’t there. She didn’t break anything, but the bruises and the shock to her system made her symptoms so bad she couldn’t get out of bed for days. I needed a nurse for her.”

  Fuck. That’s awful. But there had to be some other solution than this. I open my mouth to say something, but before I can get a word out, the dark-haired girl raises a hand to cut me off.

  “I know, I know, there are programs in place to help with things like that, and I’ve been looking into those for months and months already. I had my mom on a bunch of waiting lists and things. I called my brother for help, but he loves money more than anything else and isn’t going to ‘waste’ his on her. He’s a dick, honestly. But it gets worse.”

  “I can’t imagine how, but go on.”

  She almost smiles at that, her hazel eyes glassy with unshed tears. “The cost of her medicine went up. So did rent, at the same time. I was already working three jobs and barely had enough money to scrape by before that happened. I sold everything I ever owned that had any kind of value, except the things my mom needs to be comfortable. We were about to get evicted. I begged my landlord for more time—I even offered to sleep with him if he could cut us a break. He took the offer and then denied any memory of a deal, so even after all that, I was still going to get evicted.”

  I narrow my eyes, my jaw clenching. Vampires aren’t the only monsters in this godforsaken city. “What a fucking prick.”r />
  “Right? But the end of the month got closer and closer, and I needed like ten thousand dollars in my hand. I could only think of three ways to do it in that timeframe. Since I don’t know how to hook a high-roller and I can’t push drugs without talking the customer out of the sale, that left vampires.”

  “You didn’t sell yourself for ten thousand, did you?” I ask, barely managing to keep my voice to a low hiss as I drop my head a little, catching her gaze.

  That’s not nearly enough. Her mom’ll be in the same position next month, and this girl will still be down here.

  She shakes her head. “No. I sold myself for my mom’s health, well-being, and financial security until the day of her natural death, plus funeral costs. I couldn’t put a number on that and neither could the vampires, not with how unstable the economy is. So the deal is a fluid one. She’ll have four nurses who rotate shifts, so she’ll never be alone. She’ll have food and medicine and drivers to take her to and from her appointments. She’ll have rent and utilities covered, along with anything else she could possibly want or need.”

  “That seems like a generous offer,” I say slowly. “How do you know they’ll hold up their end?”

  She smiles sadly. “I don’t. That’s why, when I negotiated all of this before the auction, I insisted on monthly updates. I’m allowed to talk on the phone with her whenever I want, as long as I don’t tell her what I’m really doing. If I’m good, and if I bond with a vampire who allows it, I might even get to visit her someday.”

  I squeeze her hand clumsily, trying to comfort her even as fury boils inside me. She hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s been forced into this, just like Nathan was, but she’s even more innocent than he is. She’s done everything right, trying to help her mom and keep a fucking roof over their heads. How could she have ended up here? The whole fucking system is rigged.

 

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