by R. J. Blain
“And that’s it?”
“Not quite. You need to pick your name. Most vampires choose to keep their name or part of their name, but I expect this won’t be the case with you. As part of my brood, you are entitled to my name if you wish. The choice is yours.”
After a lifetime of being Penelope, I looked forward to a fresh start—if I could call my vampiric life a fresh start. In some ways, I could see myself accepting it could be a new beginning. My father’s world of ritz and glamor allowed for few friends, but before I’d gone to law school, before I’d been forced to cut ties with my childhood so I could become my father’s heir and puppet, those few had called me by a name I’d carried with pride.
In death, I could embrace that part of me without guilt or shame.
I could be me again.
Some would laugh at my name. Some would believe me strange. I could live with that.
The real question was if I could accept what Emerick offered. His name might open or close doors, but it would do one thing above all else: it would break the chains binding me to my father’s empire.
For every concern and worry I concocted, one thought stuck in my mind: I could be me again.
Would I regret my choice later? Probably. I always did to some degree. I’d learned young everyone had a motive, everyone had aspirations, and everyone harbored greed in their hearts, putting themselves above others.
That Emerick offered me something at all meant he’d find some way to profit from my choice. I could accept that. He left the choice with me. I could be Pepper again, a little girl with spice and fire in her blood, determined to make it in the world.
But I could fully embrace my new life, adding his name to mine rather than standing completely alone. I’d been alone long enough.
The decision was easier to make than I’d believed, and I stared into his eyes, steeling my resolve, prepared to pay the price for my choice for an eternity. “I’m Pepper. I’m Pepper Lowrance.”
Four
Do your worst.
Despite Emerick warning me what would happen, when he led me to the spacious living room in the heart of his home, anxiety sank its sharp claws into my chest.
We knew nothing of my maker. Could Emerick take me into his brood, or would I remain a captive? Before I’d become a vampire, I’d learned to ignore what I couldn’t change, change what I could, and play my cards to put myself in the best position possible. Choosing to offer Emerick my allegiance was a little like having a pair of aces on the table hoping to bluff my way to victory without any other cards up my sleeve.
Soon enough, I’d learn if my gambit would pay off or ruin me.
“Sit on the couch. When I bite you, several things could happen, so I’m going to hold you down. It’s probable you’ll panic, and as my fangs will be in your throat, I’d rather not take any chances. I’ll try to bite you only as deep as necessary. Everything depends on how your maker attacked you. I won’t know until I begin.”
I obeyed, clasping my hands on my lap. “If you kill me, I’m haunting you for all eternity.”
“I have other plans for you, and none of them include your death. I do accept your offer to stick around for all eternity, however.”
“When was the last time someone knocked you down a few pegs, Emerick?”
“It’s been a while. Think you’re up for the challenge?”
In life, I’d been surrounded by egotistical men, and death hadn’t improved my situation any. Emerick being easy on the eyes helped some, but I pitied him for having to put up with me for an eternity. My father’s wealth hadn’t transformed me into a beauty in the womb. His wealth had done a good job of turning me into quite the bitch, one who’d discovered the value of working hard entirely by accident.
I blamed my lackluster appearance on my father’s decision to decree unless I could be a viable part of his business, I’d receive a token inheritance and nothing else. Average bordering on acceptable was as good as I got, although I could work some magic with makeup when motivated. Unfortunately for Emerick, I wasn’t motivated often.
My father took the blame for that, too. He’d asked for competence and received it at the price of appearances. My refusal to be living perfection at his demand had created rifts, but he’d valued my skills and ability to anticipate his plans enough he’d kept me.
Not having a legitimate replacement helped my cause, and I again wondered if he’d abandon my mother for a younger woman who might provide him with a better child.
“Are you worth the effort?” I countered.
“Of course.” He smirked, leaned over me, and pushed my hair away from my throat. “Are you ready?”
I wasn’t, but I’d done enough hiding and crawling around in the shadows to last me a lifetime. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“While fighting me will add to your maker’s discomfort, try not to fight me too hard. I’d rather not have to heal your throat tonight. As you well know, being a vampire doesn’t mean you can’t be killed, and you’re young enough I’d rather not risk damaging something important.” Emerick leaned over me, using his legs to pin mine, his hands clamping onto forearms above my wrists and holding my hands immobile on my lap.
His fangs piercing my throat hurt a lot less than I expected, sliding into my skin with no resistance. The constant pressure in my chest tightened, squeezed around my heart, and restrained its beat.
That frightened me more than the pressure of Emerick’s mouth on me, pulling as he sucked my blood into his mouth. When I fed, I tore open larger holes so I could drink faster. He took his time, his tongue sliding across my skin so none of my blood escaped.
Every drop I spilled angered the roiling darkness within my chest, and the pressure I’d lived with since crawling from my shallow grave burst into boiling fury. It wanted me to strike out at Emerick, to fight him off, to keep him away and maintain my blood as my own—and as his.
My maker’s presence strengthened, confirming what I’d suspected but hadn’t known for certain. He was a man, and he viewed me as a possession, his and his alone.
When Emerick had suggested I fight to make my maker miserable, I hadn’t anticipated the pressure in my chest growing into a dragon, one determined to keep me in his hoard and expecting my cooperation.
Fighting Emerick would please him, so I didn’t. I tilted my head to the side to make it easier on the vampire, relaxing my hands and spreading my fingers. I forced myself to close my eyes, limp while Emerick eased my blood from my throat swallow by gentle swallow.
Emerick eased his hold on my forearms, slid his hands to my shoulders, and held me steady while he drank.
My awareness of weakening loitered in the back of my head, but the contrast of my maker’s fury, an inferno seeking to reduce my heart to ash, versus Emerick’s calm, tranquil drinking of my blood enthralled me.
I’d never thought two men could be so different in the face of adversity. Both were determined in their own way, but the rage of a summer wildfire and the quiet of a deep winter transformed me into a battle ground, one I observed with detached interest.
My battle had been easier won than I believed possible. Rejecting the vampire who’d made me came easily despite the sense of my life draining from my throat. Perhaps my willingness to accept my second death was to blame. In a way, I found freedom of a sort. If Emerick failed to claim me from my maker, death would do as an alternative.
Either option hurt the vampire who’d stolen everything from me.
Emerick took his time drinking my blood, leaving me to hang in the balance between the two men waging a silent war over me. While I wondered who would win, I savored my defiance of my maker, aware of his anger cresting as Emerick dragged me a little deeper, drinking until my heart stuttered in my chest and struggled to keep my body alive. The first time it stopped beating, my maker’s fury chilled, and another emotion replaced it, one I couldn’t identify.
Emerick released my shoulder before pressing his hand between my breasts over wh
ere he’d pierced me with his stakes to hold me captive.
His touch coaxed my heart back to fitful life, and the presence of my maker dissipated, smoke torn on a strong wind.
He pulled his fangs from my throat and licked where he’d bitten me. “It’s your turn to drink, Pepper,” he murmured, his tone reminiscent of a purring cat well pleased with himself. “I recommend my throat behind my ear. It’s a discreet place most won’t think to look. You won’t have to bite deep, and you can take your time. I’ll stop you when you’ve drank enough. If you can tolerate it, hiding your bite in my hair would be wise. Should another vampire try to bite me to get to you, he will have to locate your bite, and it won’t be where the rest of the brood has bitten me. It’ll make things more difficult for him. As I said before, when I bite you again, I’ll likewise hide my bite to make it more difficult for a vampire to steal you from me. I wish them the best of luck. They will need it.”
I opened my eyes and Emerick turned his head to give me access to his neck. As he had with me, I brushed his hair away from his throat, my eyes locking onto where his neck and skull met, shielded by his hair. I understood why he believed his hair would serve as a suitable shield; I hadn’t noticed its thickness, and I could lose hours running my fingers through the silky strands.
I touched his skull above his throat, poking until I found a more tender spot closer to the back of his neck. “Here?”
“That spot would work well.”
He leaned closer, and I tangled my fingers in his hair to hold him steady.
Emerick’s hair made it difficult to get a hold on him with my fangs, but I pierced through his skin and latched onto him as he had onto me, taking my time to suckle his blood into my mouth and swallow.
I’d never known blood could taste sweet. While I’d experienced a hint of Emerick’s sweetness when he’d pierced his finger on my fang, I hadn’t put much thought into it. The blood of my victims had been sour or bitter, an unpleasant brew I hated as much as I’d needed it to survive. With the victims I’d hunted, I’d drank to finish the job and feed myself. I’d never taken pleasure in the kill because their blood was necessary to sustain my life. If all blood was as appealing as Emerick’s, everything might’ve been different.
I could understand why some vampires would hunt anyone they could. The thrill of the hunt was addictive; however shameful, I couldn’t deny the surge of anticipation when on the hunt for my next victim. I’d countered my desire to experience the thrill with caution and care, ensuring I only hunted the guilty.
Every swallow revitalized me, and when I grew restless, I forced myself to release Emerick, shivering as I fought the desire to bite him again and continue drinking. I licked my lips for a final taste. To make certain I wouldn’t fall to the temptation to bite again, I clasped my hands on my lap.
“You’re surprisingly gentle for a woman who can drain a victim dry within ten minutes.” I couldn’t tell if he was complimenting me or not. While I thought about it, he straightened, lifted his hand to check the collar of his shirt, which had emerged from my feeding unscathed. A single swipe of his finger removed most of the evidence of my feeding, and a shower would erase the rest. “Tidy, too.”
“Now you have to bite me two more times, right?”
“Indeed. The next bite I’ll hide. Any preference?”
“I dealt with a mouthful of hair. Seems fair you deal with a mouthful of hair, too.”
He chuckled, reached for me, and took hold of my chin in a gentle grip, turning my head. “I’m inclined to agree. I’ll pick a different spot in the slim chance someone discovers your bite on me. As a fair warning, you might relax enough to fall asleep. If you do, I’ll finish erasing your maker’s bite without waking you. You’ll find the couch a comfortable enough place to sleep, and no one will bother you in my domain. Some compare being in a brood to being wrapped in a warm blanket. I expect it’ll take you a week or two to fully recover. I think you’ll find life as a healthy vampire much different from what you’re accustomed to.”
As I had no idea what it felt like to be a healthy vampire, I was forced to agree with his assessment of my situation. “What happens after that?”
“You settle, we find you your place in the brood, and you live your life. That part isn’t much different from being human. We just live on a different schedule.”
“A much longer schedule.”
“Indeed.”
“Do your worst,” I challenged.
“You act like I’m incapable of being anything other than the best.” Emerick chuckled and rested his knee on the couch, stroking his fingers through my hair in search of a spot to bite me. “Welcome to my brood and the rest of your life, Pepper Lowrance.”
He sank his fangs into the back of my neck where my spine met my skull. A flash of pain stunned me long enough for him to secure his hold on me before I sank into pleasant darkness.
Soft voices woke me, and lethargy held me in a gentle grip. Warmth blanketed me and I considered drifting back to sleep. As it always did at the worst times, curiosity got the best of me.
One of the voices belonged to Emerick, and frustration sharpened his tone. Anything capable of frustrating him deserved my full attention.
I cracked open an eye to discover I was still on the couch, and someone had covered me with a thick blanket, so soft on the skin I’d make it my first conquest. Emerick lounged on an armchair nearby, and Ben stood stiff beside him, with his arms crossed over his chest.
Two other men hovered in the doorway, shifting their weight from foot to foot, their expressions so nervous I worried they’d suffer from heart attacks.
“Yes, I’m aware of her familial ties, Ben. She told me herself. She made no effort to hide it from me. She’s obviously concerned. Had she not been, she would’ve risen and returned to her father. Instead, she decided to live on the streets for almost an entire year, surviving on blood alone because she had no idea vampires can’t eat regular cheese. I can’t say I would’ve been eager to try human foods again if my first foray resulted in being sick for several nights. It seems she decided her first meal as a vampire would be pizza.”
Ben and the two men winced, which made me feel a little better about having written off all food for the past year.
Emerick glanced in my direction, but if he noticed me watching him, he ignored me. “The Francis family is rather notorious in their prejudices, which is why any smart vampire is steering clear of Harlem. Some will buy in, but they’ll be from the younger broods who haven’t endured vampire hunts or the consequences of being docile. The poorer broods might bite, too, for a chance to elevate their status. As it is, I’ll be making plans to set up safe houses outside of New York. She wasn’t brought up in a brood. Everything you learned in your fledgling days doesn’t apply, so don’t act like she should magically understand the system. She’s had no one to teach her.”
Ben’s scowl deepened. “Spying is a possibility.”
“Since when is it not? That’s a part of life as a vampire. We thrive on deceit and intrigue. Our entire empire has been built on cunning business plans and learning the tricks of the trade so we can use every loophole in our favor.”
“My father is as likely to stake me as he is to welcome me,” I contributed. As I’d revealed I was awake, I stretched and yawned. “He barely tolerated me because of my PhD and my reluctant willingness to help him run his empire. Treachery is his norm, and I’d be the first to suspect it from him. I was born the wrong gender.”
Ben flinched. “Surely you exaggerate.”
“You haven’t met my father, I see. No, I don’t. My mother’s gravest sin was providing him with a daughter instead of a son, but he’s too traditional to claim one of his illegitimate children as one of his heirs. I expect I’ll cause the Lowrance brood some trouble if my father learns I’m alive. Well, as alive as a vampire gets. As such, I’d rather he didn’t find out. I’ll be happy enough doing my share of the work without going out unless absolutely necessary.
”
“We don’t keep members of my brood locked up like prisoners,” Emerick stated, and if I judged by his tone, he wouldn’t budge on his declaration.
“It’s not being locked up as a prisoner if it’s my choice. It’s not like this place isn’t comfortable. Where would I go? Well, beyond shopping, but I can order things online. I assume I can have packages delivered here?”
“Of course. We’re not savages.”
“Forgive me for sounding skeptical, but until you two slammed me to a rooftop, the only vampires I’ve met have been savages.”
Emerick sighed and conceded my point with a nod. “This is true. You have no idea what to expect from a proper brood. I’m not typically in the business of hiding any of my vampires. I’ve reason to be proud of my brood. That said, I can understand your hesitancies about emerging when you come from a prejudiced home. Your knowledge of your father’s operations will make you a prime target. Your gender will make you a prime target of the brides as well. I’ve no interest in relinquishing you to them. I found you first, you’ve accepted my offer to join my brood willingly, and you’ll find I’m a jealous master.”
“Understatement,” Ben muttered, soft enough Emerick could choose to ignore the vampire’s discontent if he wished.
“Ben is upset because he didn’t anticipate how quickly I’d claim you as part of the brood. He’s also upset I drained you enough you’ve been sleeping rather than fitting into his precious schedule. Ben likes his schedule set and kept to the second whenever possible.”
“Do you ever do what he tells you?” I doubted it. Rich men did what they wanted when they wanted, and they only kept to a schedule when it suited their needs or might ruin their plans.
“On occasion. It vexes him, which is why I do it. I do enjoy my evening vexations.”
“You need a raise, Ben.” I sat up, made sure the bathrobe hadn’t slipped, and rolled my shoulders. I ached where Emerick had bitten me, but I resisted the urge to rub at my throat, which had taken the brunt of the damage. “He’d probably stop if you didn’t react to him yanking your chain.”
