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

by Callie Rose

  He cups my face in his hand, running a thumb over my lip. His warm eyes linger on my mouth for a moment, just long enough to make me suck in a surprised breath, and then he leans in and presses his lips to mine.

  His kiss is startlingly human.

  It’s not a demand, not a precursor to a bite—just a kiss.

  Relief washes through me, and I kiss him back. I can’t help it. I’m glad I came to him, and I’m certain now that I made the right choice. He’s solid and warm, a force to be reckoned with. I can feel the killer under the surface, but I know it isn’t me he wants to hurt. I’m safe here, in his arms, at least for the moment.

  After a long moment, he pulls away just enough to look into my eyes. The blue and violet of his dark irises seem to swirl, as if entire galaxies are contained within his eyes. He brushes my hair back away from my face, then releases me entirely.

  As I watch, the softness and warmth in his face disappears under a veneer of hard-edged ruthlessness. It sends shivers down my spine. Not fear, but something similar.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he tells me.

  There isn’t a single part of me that doubts his words.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You look better,” I tell Jessica, who’s perched on the edge of my bed. There’s a little smile playing around her eyes, an expression I haven’t seen on her before.

  “So much better.” She shakes her head, letting out a happy sigh. “I don’t know what happened, but after I had that migraine”—she puts air quotes around the word—“James backed off. He doesn’t seem to have a new favorite either. He’s sort of just bouncing around, picking up a new girl here or there. Without him hovering over me all the time, I’ve met some new vampires. A couple of them… I dunno. I actually wouldn’t mind if they choose me on Saturday.”

  My stomach ties itself into a tight knot at the reminder of my rapidly dwindling window in which to escape with Nathan. Saturday is just five days from now, and I still don’t have as clear of an exit strategy as I’d like. Although I’ve managed to get a glimpse of the keypad on the sleek glass elevator Bastian took me up in, I don’t have the complete code yet.

  And I’m running out of time.

  Jessica doesn’t notice my mood shift at all, continuing on blithely. “There are three interested in me now, and they’re all pretty gentle. There’s George, Xavier, and…” She pauses for a moment, smiling shyly. “And Violet.”

  I grin at her, shoving my anxiety down. “Violet, huh?”

  She nods, her eyes sparkling. “I never thought I could feel things like that for a woman. People seem pretty straight around here. Traditional, you know? She’s keeping it on the down-low, but she comes to me more than the other two do—and I like it. I like her.”

  I wouldn’t have believed a tribute could truly like a vampire just a few weeks ago, but now I understand. I like a few of them myself. Specifically, Rome and Connor. Bastian loses points for being the figurehead. If he wasn’t at the top of the food chain, maybe I’d like him too.

  Smiling at Jessica, I nudge her with my elbow. “I’m happy for you.”

  It’s the truth. I’m not as worried about her now, though I still hate the thought of leaving her behind. I’m running out of time to get me and Nathan out, and I certainly don’t have time to convince Jessica to leave with us, especially with her mother’s life on the line. She’s not selfish enough to make it an easy argument.

  But regardless of who I end up taking with me, I need to be as prepared as possible for the escape attempt.

  Later that night, after everyone’s in their rooms, I pull my weapons out. I haven’t been practicing like I should have been, too caught up in survival and navigating the social web to focus on training. It was a stupid oversight on my part, but worth it. Jessica isn’t the only one who’s been having a better time of it since my talk with Rome. Now that Nathan’s not being sucked dry every night by Althea and Maureen, I’m confident that he’ll be strong enough to leave with me when the time comes.

  I’m stiff and awkward for a minute or two as I go through the warm-ups, but my muscles quickly remember what they’re doing. All the tension I’ve built up over the last several days flows out through my hands, into my weapons, focusing my movements. I work up a good sweat, running all my favorite drills before I tuck the weapons back in their hiding place and crawling into bed.

  I stare up at the ceiling as I wait for my heart rate to slow down and for sleep to come. I almost have the keypad figured out. That means I almost have the key to getting out of this place.

  From now on, that has to be my main focus.

  I have to figure out that code.

  The next day, I head back toward the elevator that Bastian and I rode in as soon as I finish breakfast.

  I know the first three digits and the last digit. I’m only missing two now, and I’m out of time to play it subtle. No matter what it takes, I need to finish up today. As soon as that happens, I’ll go find Nathan and get us the hell out of here. This elevator is the only viable escape option I’ve found, so no matter what, we have to make it work.

  I’m approaching the intersection, my “dazed tribute” face going full force. I can hear someone coming from the elevator, so I lay it on extra thick, stumbling over my own toes just a little. The vampire rounds the corner, and—

  Fuck.

  It’s Connor.

  I wipe the stupid look off my face, but I’m not quick enough. His bright smile fades slightly as worry rises around his eyes.

  “Darcy! What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yes, I’m fine,” I say, trying to wave it off. “I was just, um, trying to find my way back.”

  There’s a flash of jealousy, or maybe protectiveness, in his expression. It gives me a warm feeling deep down inside that I can’t afford to pay much attention to. Every time I see him, every time I talk to him, it’s always a fight to remind myself of what he is.

  He offers me his arm and a wide smile.

  “Well, m’lady,” he says theatrically. “Allow me to escort you back to the tribute wing. Er—if that’s where you want to go.”

  I could ask him to take me up in the elevator, but I’m worried about other vamps seeing us. I get the feeling that Bastian taking me to the top floor was something he doesn’t do with most tributes. In fact, I’m not sure he’s ever done it before, and I’m pretty sure if he finds out I was asking Connor to take me up, it’ll either piss him off or make him suspicious. So instead of mentioning it, I play dumb, hating myself for using Connor like this.

  Doesn’t matter. He’s a fucking vampire, Mikka.

  “What’s through there?” I ask, nodding toward the elevator he just got off of.

  “Ugh, just boring offices and stuff. Nobody ever told me that vampires had to work for an undeadening.” He rolls his eyes, and it makes me grin in spite of myself.

  “An undeadening, huh?”

  “Well it can’t really be called a living, can it?” He grins, winking at me. “Even though you have managed to inject a lot more life into this stuffy old tomb.”

  “Me?” Huh. That’s exactly the opposite of what I want to do.

  “Sure! What other gorgeous tribute would have put up with my clumsy ass this whole time?”

  “Plenty,” I tell him. Seriously, he has no idea how many of the girls hate me for being on easy terms with him.

  He throws back his head and laughs. “You’re biased,” he teases. “And cool. Super cool, like—” He breaks off, groping around for words.

  “Ice cold?” I offer helpfully.

  He laughs again. It’s like music and feels like a concert at the inner harbor on a warm summer evening. Dammit, why does he have to be a vampire?

  “See? Right there. You’re cooler than cool. Most of the other girls I’ve talked to since getting here have a very specific idea of what they’re in for, and most of them find it, or something close to it. They want a brooding perpetual teen who owns stock in body glitter, o
r a dramatic middle-aged gentleman whose closet is full of tuxedos.”

  “I have seen plenty of both,” I agree. “Though I gotta say, there are more brutes than I’d anticipated.”

  That’s a lie. If anything, I thought there would be more vicious animals, but I think it fits with his general perception of tribute expectations.

  “James and Chris.” Connor nods with a wince. “Yeah, they’re not really royal court material. I mean, I’m not either, but not for lack of trying. They used to live on the surface, and they liked it.” He shudders. “I don’t know about you, but basement apartments in abandoned buildings don’t sound like a lot of fun to me.”

  “Sounds pretty awful,” I agree. “But way more suited to their personalities. James’s, anyway. I don’t think I’ve met Chris.”

  “Good,” he says firmly. “I hope you never do.”

  “So why do they live here now?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know the specifics, but I guess there’s some kind of Buffy wannabe running around up there causing trouble. They claim they only came down here because they felt they deserved better, but I’m pretty sure they’re just scared.”

  Don’t smile, don’t smile.

  I focus on the “Buffy wannabe” statement and let it annoy me enough to keep from grinning like an idiot. Apparently, I had James on the run once, and dammit, I’ll do it again.

  Connor smiles down at me, his eyes warm and soft, and moves his arm so that my hand slides into his. He kisses my wrist, then lets our hands swing between us. It’s cozy, comfortable… and exactly what I don’t need right now.

  Shit. It’s going to hurt to leave him.

  I shove the knowledge away, wishing I could make it untrue just by ignoring it. If I get melancholy right now, he’ll know something’s up, and he won’t stop pestering me until he finds out what it is. Because he cares.

  Dammit, Connor, act like a vampire for once, would you?

  His pocket buzzes when we reach the main staircase. I wonder if the stairs go up to the building above too, or if they just reach into higher underground levels? I’m about to ask him, but he’s frowning at his phone.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  He sighs, taps out a text, and slides the phone back into his pocket. “One of the older vampires was trying to enter data onto a spreadsheet I’ve been keeping for some of our accounting stuff, and he managed to mess up what was already there. At least he thinks he messed it up. He probably just hit ‘show formulas’ or something, but I have to go fix it regardless.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Older, like—?”

  He grins. “Older like rotary phones are newfangled technology and why in heaven’s name don’t we keep proper pens around here anymore, haven’t you any idea how wasteful these ‘point balls’ are?”

  He scowls like an old man, making his voice gruff and grumpy until he can’t hold in his laughter any longer.

  I laugh along with him, and he pulls me close, holding me securely against his chest. I bury my face in his shirt and wrap my arms around his waist, relishing the warmth of him all around me. I breathe him in, memorizing the way he feels and sounds, memorizing the way I feel when I’m with him. I’ll need these memories to keep me sane after I leave.

  On the other hand, maybe holding on to these feelings is what will eventually drive me crazy—or get me killed. Because I’m not going to stop hunting vampires, and I can’t afford to show restraint on the street. Knowing that some of the monsters I kill might laugh like music and smell like warm rain in their home element will leave me with a guilt that whiskey won’t be able to touch.

  He pulls away from me and kisses my forehead, then my nose, then my mouth. He lingers there a while until his phone buzzes again. Then he pulls away, eyes full of regret, and brushes his fingers over my face.

  “Ah, parting is such sweet sorrow,” he sighs.

  I grin. “I didn’t think you were a Shakespeare kind of guy.”

  His brow furrows. “Shakespeare? I thought that was Willy Wonka!”

  I can’t tell if he’s serious or not, but he’s gone before I stop laughing. I watch his cocky little strut as he disappears back the way we came from. For an instant, I consider following him, just because I know that he’s going to have to punch the code in to get upstairs, but I reject the idea as soon as it occurs to me. He’s too aware of my presence. Accepting momentary defeat, I head back to my room. Once I’m sure that Connor has moved on, I sneak out again and spend the rest of the day hanging out near the corridor where the elevator sits, but I don’t have any luck.

  At dinner, every bite of food seems to go down my throat like a lump of cement, and I even go as far as veering out of the way instead of heading straight back to my room after the feast is finally over. But there are no vampires using the elevator at this time of “night,” since it’s actually late morning topside, so there’s nothing to see. I’m tempted to punch in what I know and guess the rest, but I don’t want to risk setting off an alarm with too many wrong guesses.

  Disgruntled and on-edge, I head back to the tribute wing.

  The moment I open the door to my little bedroom, I know something is wrong.

  I can feel it even before I take in the chaotic mess that’s strewn about the space, like something hovering in the air. My mattress is lying cockeyed, contorted at an angle from the bedframe to the floor. Sheets and blankets lie scattered over the stone floor, along with all of my clothes and shoes.

  Motherfucker.

  My room has been ransacked.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fuck. What the hell happened in here?

  Fear clouds my brain, but a rush of adrenaline parts the clouds in my mind. Someone found out. Someone must have suspected me for some reason. Maybe because I went to Rome and tattled on the other vampires? Or did someone notice that I always seem to be out wandering, and that I tend to stick to certain parts of the palace on my meandering walks?

  I want to punch a wall. Better yet, a vampire.

  I have to get to Nathan, have to get us out of here before one or both of us gets killed. Did they find my weapons? If they did, I’ll be lucky to get ten feet, never mind trying to get across the palace to the men’s wing.

  My mouth is dry, but my heart has finally come down out of my ears to rattle my ribcage at a more reasonable volume.

  As my hearing returns to normal, something catches my attention out in the hallway. A whispered voice, quiet but high-pitched.

  “—would have paid to see her face!”

  “God, I would pay my whole bid price for a spy cam right now.”

  Tittering laughter follows that statement, and my hands curl into fists. Something that’s part relief, part anger, and part annoyance rises up from my belly in a wave as I realize it wasn’t a vampire who went through my room.

  It was a human. Several humans.

  Several petty fucking bitches.

  Fury, eager to be tapped after such a long suppression, overwhelms my lingering panic in an instant, and I move, spinning away from my open door. Here I am, trying to save my damn brother, and these assholes are pulling middle school fucking pranks. Blind rage fills every taut fiber of my being as I stalk the sounds to their source.

  The girls are huddled in Winona’s room, whispering and giggling.

  Several of them yelp as I crash into the room, but I’m not interested. Winona is sitting smugly on her bed, posing like some debutante princess. She gives me a cool, bored look.

  Yeah? We’ll see how bored you are in a second, you twat.

  She’s expecting a verbal altercation, so I don’t give it to her. Instead, I grab her by her hair and slam her into the wall.

  The girls all scream in unison as my fist connects with Winona’s perfectly symmetrical face hard enough to make blood spray from her nose. Winona stares in shock, tense but frozen, her pupils like tiny, terrified islands in the middle of wide white pools. I let go of her, and she slides to the floor, her eyes never leaving me.


  “You stupid, petty children,” I growl. “Is this why you came here? Is this why you sold your life away to bloodsuckers? Just so you could live out some mean girl fantasy? You idiots! You.” I point at Winona, who cringes away from me. “You have done nothing but drive wedges between tributes since the moment you set your porcelain feet in the palace. Are you out of your mind? The only people you have on your side are the other tributes! Everybody else either wants to eat you or get you paired up with a vampire A.S.A motherfucking P. so they can get your dramatic bullshit out of their workplace!”

  Winona’s jaw stiffens and she looks away.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I grit out between my teeth. Then I turn to the girls on the bed. “And the rest of you, you’re really just going to follow her and do whatever she says? Why? She’d sell each and every one of you out just as fast as she sold herself, and you know it.”

  They gave each other shifty looks, with more than a few sending wary glares in Winona’s direction.

  “Now.” I’m still shaking with fury, trying to bottle it back up before I do any permanent damage either to the girls or to my “willing tribute” reputation, but it’s like a dam has broken inside me. “Now,” I say again. “Don’t touch my shit. Don’t go in my room. And leave me the fuck alone.”

  I stalk away, leaving a stunned, suspicious silence behind me. If I’m lucky, their little clique will tear itself apart from the inside out before dawn.

  Or maybe not. Hitting Winona—while it felt fantastic and was definitely deserved—might have made her a mean girl martyr.

  Yup, there it is.

  I’m barely back to my room and already I can hear a couple of the girls making sympathetic noises in Winona’s direction.

  Maybe the broken nose will give her face character. Or hell, maybe it’ll give her character.

  A second look at my room keeps my adrenaline up. I’m hot and loose and ready for war. If the assholes who fucked up my room weren’t so soft and pampered, maybe I could have worked some of this off with a good fight. But they aren’t the types to jump a bitch, oh no. They’re the types to dump a bucket of pig’s blood all over her and sit behind innocent eyes and wicked smiles while the world around them devolves into chaos.