Blood of Night

by Leeah Taylor

  Blood of Night

  Kings of Sterling

  Leeah Taylor

  BLOOD OF NIGHT

  Copyright © 2020 Leeah Taylor.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incident are the product of imagination, or used in a fictionalized manner. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Front cover image by Delicious Book Covers.

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  Contents

  Juliette | 1

  Juliette | 2

  Juliette | 3

  Damien | 4

  Damien | 5

  Damien | 6

  Juliette | 7

  Juliette | 8

  Juliette | 9

  Damien | 10

  Juliette | 11

  Damien | 12

  Juliette | 13

  Damien | 14

  Juliette | 15

  Damien | 16

  Damien | 17

  Juliette | 18

  Damien | 19

  Juliette | 20

  Damien | 21

  Juliette | 22

  Juliette | 23

  Juliette | 24

  Juliette | 25

  Juliette | 26

  Damien | 27

  Damien | 28

  Juliette | 29

  Juliette | 30

  Juliette | 31

  Damien | 32

  Juliette | 33

  Juliette | 34

  Juliette | 35

  Juliette | 36

  Damien | 37

  Juliette | 38

  Juliette | 39

  Damien | 40

  Damien | 41

  Damien | 42

  Juliette | 43

  Damien | 44

  Juliette | 45

  Juliette | 46

  Damien | 47

  Damien | 48

  Juliette | 49

  Epilogue

  For my bear.

  Juliette | 1

  I have to do this.

  Juliette glanced across the bar top at the empty stools. Dead again. She took her phone out of the pocket of her apron with a sigh and tapped the screen. It was almost eight, and the few loyal to the old rundown bar would be filing in any minute. It was her chance to slip away.

  She gave the bar another glance and, stomach churning hot, knew what she had to do. Canonpeke wasn’t known for much more than farming and a decent steak up the street. Jimmy’s bar had warm beer and wobbling pool tables. And only three channels on the old box TV hung behind the bar. None of which got the game. The cushions on the seats and stools were patched with duct tape. There was no point asking for a raise or to borrow money. It wasn’t there to give, even if their boss wanted to.

  I have to do this.

  It was a chanted mantra in her head. Over and over like a broken record from the moment she caught the landlord trying to put an eviction notice on their door early this morning. She had to beg and plead with him to give her until tomorrow to get the last of the money together. He seemed to have one or two suggestions about how she could pay him. She shuddered.

  “Riley?”

  A dark-haired, blue-eyed waitress looked up from the table she was clearing.

  “Watch the bar for a minute?”

  Everything was for Riley. Juliette wanted to give her a chance to have the life she deserved. No more running. Nothing she wasn’t prepared to do for her best friend, the person that had given her back the smallest semblance of family.

  Her brows pulled together. “Everything okay?”

  Juliette swallowed back the nerves. “Yep.”

  She still had time, or at least it was what she kept telling herself. But the stack of late bills was piling up.

  I should tell her how bad it’s getting, and we can figure it out together.

  She shoved the thought out. Maybe Riley didn’t want to figure it out and would just leave. Let Juliette figure it out on her own. It was only fair. The responsibility fell on her shoulders. She said she’d handle the money. At 170 years old, it shouldn’t be that hard to do.

  She never meant for it to get so bad. It all seemed surprisingly easy, even with their minimum wage and shit tips. For a couple of months, she believed they might make it. Maybe have something remotely normal.

  Running from werecats, trackers, and wolves was exhausting. Forget living paycheck to paycheck, it was day to day. Settling down in Canonpeke was supposed to be a fresh start. But reality had set in, and bills had to be paid. Rent, power, phone, and they had to eat. For a small farm town, the rent on their apartment was absurd, and the old building did nothing for their power bill. The middle of summer in Georgia was too hot to treat the air conditioning like a luxury.

  Juliette headed down the hall, out of earshot of her best friend’s acute hearing. Fear and doubt slithered their way into the back of her mind. She couldn’t afford for either to take hold.

  I’m doing this for Riley. For both of us.

  Running wasn’t the answer anymore. Jumping from one town to the next, scraping together just enough money for one bad motel room to the next. She owed Riley at least this much, to try and make things work.

  Riley deserved to get back the life she had run away from ten years ago. She deserved more than living a life on the run. It wasn’t a life at all.

  Juliette took her phone out and scrolled through the contacts. Her usual clients were unavailable or didn’t need her services. Not tonight. When the reality set in that bartending wasn’t enough, she’d known what she had to do. It wasn’t hard to find the type of clients she needed. She had something unique and rare to offer.

  A number glared back at her. Red flags went off and tried to stop her from calling this one. He’d called her, and that should have been enough to make her think twice. First correspondence was always through email, yet this man had her number. He said she came highly recommended.

  I don’t have any other choice. We need the money.

  She forced back the bile rising in her throat, buried the doubt, and pressed the number without a name. The phone rang a couple of times before someone answered.

  “I was hoping you’d call, Kitten.”

  His voice was smooth and silky. Seductive even. But the pet name rolled through her with strange intimacy. Like it belonged. Like it fit.

  She shook off the strange feeling. “Do you need or not?”

  “I always need.”

  “Call me kitten again and the only thing you’ll need is a hospital.” She waited for a comeback, but the man remained quiet. “Know where the Ranger Motel is?”

  “I do.”

  “You get the room and text me the room number. It’s three hundred, and I’ll be there at midnight.”

  The call ended, and bile forced its way up her throat. She tried to swallow it but gagged. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she made a run for the bathroom up the hall. She crashed through the door and went for the first stall. It banged open, and her knees slammed into the tile just in time for her to empty her lunch into the toilet. The door to the bathroom whined open, and a moment later, the loose strands of hair hanging in her face were pulled away.

  “You okay?” Riley asked.

  Juliette mustered a nod before losing the battle with the reflex taking control of the back of her throat and hurled again.

  I can’t meet one more stranger at that pay by the hour motel to pay the bills.

  “You sure?”

  When she was sure nothing else was coming up, Juliette got to her feet and passed Riley to reach the sinks.

  “I’m fine,” she lied, splashing water over her face. The coolness did nothing to tame the hot fury boiling in
the pit of her stomach.

  Riley hopped up on the counter, crossed her arms, and narrowed a stare on her. “Aren’t knocked up, are you?”

  Juliette’s mouth fell open, and she shot Riley a look. “Riles, when have I even had the time to have the kind of fun required to get knocked up?”

  Riley gave her a lazy shrug. “Just figured I’d ask the obvious.”

  “Oh, the obvious? Couldn’t just be a stomach thing?”

  She seemed to think about, tapping a pink nail against her chin then shook her head. “Nope, knocked up is much more fun.”

  “I hate you,” Juliette laughed.

  “You really don’t.”

  “You’re right, but I still hate you.” Juliette smirked back at her as she went out the door. “Besides, vampire. Remember? Can’t get knocked up.”

  “Meh.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Anything is possible.”

  “I really hate you.”

  “You really don’t.”

  Juliette scanned the room to see if anyone had come in. They hadn’t. “I do need you to do me a favor tonight.”

  Riley counted the little bit of tips she’d made.

  “Twelve bucks, we’re rolling in the dough.”

  “Riley, favor?”

  “Yeah, what do you need?”

  “I need to knock out by eleven-thirty. Can you cover?”

  Her brow pulled together. “For?”

  “Just have to be somewhere.”

  “To do?” Riley dragged out the last word.

  “Gotta close a drug deal,” Juliette teased and then lowered her voice. “I need to go feed.”

  “Oh, why didn’t you just say that?” Riley lost interest. “Made it so ominous.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You definitely did.”

  She managed a smile. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and a bus full of tourists passing through will break down and be forced to come in and drink?”

  “Some high hopes you got there.”

  “A girl can dream.”

  “Well, dream bigger, because I need some better tips.”

  A bus full of tourists didn’t break down and come into the bar. Just the usual fifteen locals, showing up per their typical routine, much to Juliette’s disappointment. That seemed to be life’s current message - It’s all just a big disappointment.

  The closer to eleven-thirty it got, the sicker she felt.

  This is the last time I do this for money.

  She tucked her apron under the bar and pocketed the twenty-five bucks she’d made in tips. Not much, considering she needed to put gas in her car to even get two towns over. For the past day, her gas gauge had teetered on E; she didn’t want to press her luck and end up stranded in the middle of nowhere.

  “I’m headed out, Riles. See you in the morning.”

  Riley pulled a stool behind the bar, settled in with a magazine, and waved her off. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget to use a condom.”

  The handful of men left at the bar, so regular even the seats knew their names, eyed Juliette at the door. Their stares violating her from top to bottom.

  She sighed. “Thanks, Riles.”

  “Anytime,” she yelled after her.

  If it weren’t for Riley’s sometime crude sense of humor, Juliette didn’t know how she’d get through. Certainly, never a dull minute with her around.

  She dropped into the driver's seat, and her head fell back against the headrest. Closing her eyes, she blew out a breath. Exhaustion edged into her mind while her body ached. I need sleep.

  She was worried about getting two towns over, but she didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if the bald spare tire didn’t hold out just a little longer.

  A picture tucked into the visor caught her attention and her heart. Pulling it too tight in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She’d carried it for twenty years, and the thought of parting with it was too painful

  Three handsome, well-dressed men drank champagne, with smiles stretched across each of their faces. They were celebrating another New Year’s Eve. No doubt they’d barely aged a day since that night. She sure hadn’t. If they had, it’d be too minute to notice. It was the last happy memory she’d had with the Frost brothers. The family she loved and then lost because of one mistake made out of anger. Desperation. A yearning to feeling something more than a broken heart.

  I could always call Lucien. He’d help.

  She didn’t deserve for Lucien to bail her out, and he didn’t deserve to suffer because of her mistakes.

  Again.

  She slammed the visor up and started the car. There was no way she’d go through with it if she had to stare at the picture for the entire drive. Forcing her focus on the road in front of her, Juliette prayed she’d be back in her own bed before Riley got home from work.

  Juliette | 2

  The text with the room number came minutes before she pulled into the parking lot. She circled twice before finally parking. The room was on the bottom floor in the back of the motel. There were no other vehicles except for a dark blue truck parked several spaces down from the room.

  She looked up at the rundown building and swallowed. The curtains were pulled closed in every room, and it added to the icky feeling building up in her chest. Nice couples didn’t come for a weekend getaway. Tired truckers didn’t stop for a warm shower and a nap. They went two towns over to Canonpeke, grabbed a steak, and spent the night at Canonpeke Lodge.

  Drug deals, sex for hire, and a long list of other things happened here, but she didn’t want to think about it.

  Juliette gathered up the last of her dignity and courage to get out of the car. She gave the dark parking lot a quick glance. Scrutinized every shadow but nothing jumped.

  I really hate this place.

  If the dim, flickering light above the door was any indication of how dodgy the place was, Juliette chose to ignore it. This wasn’t new; she’d done it before. One name flitted through her mind, and that was all she needed to be reminded why it was so hard each time. He’d kill her if he found out. She knocked on the door and forced herself to breathe. In and out, like always.

  When the door opened, she was met with dark gray eyes. They swirled back at her like a snowstorm. A spark of something came off him in waves. Familiar and foreign at the same time. Red flag. She ignored the warning prickling over her skin. She needed the money.

  The man looked normal, but there was something so familiar about him. Dark hair smoothed back. Black t-shirt pulled taut across his chest. The khakis, tailored and creased, fit perfect to him. A day or two of stubble made him surprisingly attractive. Red flag! Do not break the rules. For him, she’d consider it. My rules to break. The pulsing heat between her legs certainly wanted to have fun.

  Juliette had swallowed past the lump and forced herself to cross over the threshold when he stepped out of the way with a sway of his hand to come inside.

  “I’m...”

  She quickly held up a hand to cut him off. “No names, that’s not how this works.”

  He threw his hands up in front of him and took a few steps back to give her some space. “Okay, how does this work?”

  She took in the room, eyeing the black backpack set in the corner on the floor. The closed door on the other side of the room had her wary. She went to it, opened the door and flipped on the light. Empty. Then pulled open the shower curtain. Nobody.

  “Just you and me here. If that’s your concern.”

  That silky, smooth voice did little to ease her tension.

  “Just making sure.” Juliette looked at the bed and cringed. “You get five minutes. No more. There will be no sex; oral or otherwise.” No matter how much she was considering it. “No other physical contact other than where I tell you. No kissing. No petting. And for the love of God, no self-gratification or it will be the last time you’ll have anything down there to gratify.” She thought about it. Made sure she didn’t miss an
ything. “Oh, and it’s three hundred. Understand?”

  He leaned back against the wall and looked her up and down with a smug smile as he crossed his arms.

  “Yeah, I think I got it.”

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d think it was Lucien or Damien standing on the other side of the room. Overly sure of themselves and demanding her attention.

  “Don’t think. Be sure you understand because if you deviate from any of the rules at any point after this, I will not only castrate you, I’ll defang you too.”

  He chuckled low, pushing off the wall. “Somehow, I believe it. So, on the bed?”

  Arching a brow, she crinkled her nose. “Not a chance in hell. There will be fine.”

  She pointed to the table on the other side of the bed in the corner. Only problem was, he was standing in the path between the bed and the dresser. It left very little space on either side to pass. I could go over the bed. She bit back the laugh tickling at the back of her throat at vision of her jumping across the bed. If he didn’t think she was anxious yet, he would then.

  The only choice she had was to squeeze past him. She eyed him as she moved toward him, and he kept his eyes on her. Watching every move. Every step. Eyes blazing with curiosity. A prickle of energy swept over her skin when she grazed his arm, and she gasped, meeting his hard stare with wide eyes. Curiosity slowly turned to confusion in his gaze.

  Gulping back the urge to bolt, she edged further past him and caught the scent of sandalwood with an undercurrent of spice. The ache between her legs pounded with a need she didn’t realize she’d had until now. I need to get laid. Like yesterday

  “Excuse me,” she whispered.

  He stepped back. “My apologies.”

  She hurried to the table and pulled out the chair. Her heart was in her throat as it pulsed through her entire body. Something about this guy was different than the rest.

  “And here I thought I’d be the nervous one. No worries, Kitten, I’ll be gentle.”

  Juliette bristled. “I thought I told you I wasn’t your kitten?”

  Yet the pet name washed over her with a shadow of something. A whisper of a vague memory.