by Renee Rose
Lucius’ smile fades. “Yes, pet, and I’m sorry. Your death is my fault.”
I jerk in his arms. Bring my hands up between us, not to push him away, but to examine them. My hands look the same as they always have. A bit paler, perhaps. “I’m not...dead.”
“Not in the way you think.” He looks so sad, I cup his face.
“It’s all right,” I murmur.
“When you find out what I’ve done...I can only hope you can forgive me.”
“Of course. What--”
In answer, he takes my fingers and puts them to my mouth. I don’t understand until he pushes them past my lips. I touch something hard and slim and cold. Needle sharp. A fang. Not a wolf canine, but a tooth belonging to a greater predator, a--
“Vampire?” I ask, dreading his response.
Slowly, he nods.
A little sound escapes my throat. A whimper. A moan. “You turned me.”
“I turned you,” he confirms, and before I can say more, he gathers me into his arms. “I would do it again even knowing you’d change your mind. You said you wanted to be with me. I couldn’t let you go. Not now. Now when I know--”
“Know what?” I turn in his arms so I’m facing him. My heart beats loud in my ears. Under my palm, Lucius’ heart pumps blood in matching rhythm.
“I love you. Selene, I love you, and I couldn’t let you go.”
I raise my hand between us, right in front of my face. It looks the same, the pale skin, the bluish veins His blood flows through my veins. Immortal blood.
Everything is different. But when I retract my hand and see his face, I know: everything is the same.
“I know. Lucius, I know.” I lay my palm on his cheek. His hair is tousled in contrast to his elegant features. For once he’s not perfectly groomed. It only took a meeting with his enemy and a near death experience for him to forget his vanity.
He looks as beautiful as ever. Unworldly. A god come to earth. A legendary king come back to life. “I love you, too. I loved you from the first night.”
His breath blows my hair about my shoulders. He embraces me, his lips finding my ear. “That’s a relief.”
I laugh into his hug. “Did you think I wouldn’t forgive you for giving me life?”
He pulls away. “It comes with a price. Pet,”--he cups my chin, all seriousness--“I have condemned you to a life in darkness. You will never see the sun.”
I lean forward and twine my arms around him, needing to feel him. “I do not need the sun,” I tell him with all honesty. “You are all the light I need.”
Epilogue
Club Toxic pulses with the music of the nightclub above. Below, the dungeon is crowded with vampires, all of Lucius’ sired gathered at his command.
I apply lipstick carefully, blot once, apply again, until my lips are as red as the liquid of my drink. At least, I think they are. When I look in the mirror, I can’t see a thing.
The hair raises on my neck a second before Lucius breathes in my ear.
“Nervous?” A firm hand squeezes my shoulder before sliding to loosely collar my neck.
“No.” I keep looking at the mirror, even though I see nothing but the reflection of the room. I don’t know why I even bother. Force of habit, I guess.
“Good girl.” In the mirror, my glass rises in midair, lifted by an unseen hand. I take it, obediently.
“You look like a goddess.” He dips close. “Maybe tonight I’ll fuck a goddess in the ass.”
I sputter and almost spill my drink.
“Careful.” He steadies my hand. “You’re too thin as it is.”
“How much do I have to drink?”
“I will let you feed from the vein tonight,” he promises and I shudder. That’s the difference between him and other vampires, he explained. The new vampire is weak, dependent, requiring a balance of care and slow weaning into independence.
“Xavier tried to make vampires, but they either fought him and he killed them, or he mind wiped them and they didn’t survive because they were too weak.
“That’s why your sired survive?”
“Yes.”
“So I’ll survive?” I joked.
He didn’t laugh. “You will do more than survive. You will thrive.”
His fingers tip the glass and I let him help pour the blood down my throat. I’ll do more than thrive. Already, my body is stronger, my reflexes faster than any vampires. I blur with ease. When we race on the mountain trails, I easily beat him, my shifter strength combining with the vampire abilities to create a new creature. I am unstoppable. The sired will soon outpace her sire. I am the most powerful predator on earth.
And totally in love.
“Ready?” He takes my glass from me.
“As I’ll ever be.”
He offers his arm.
“You don’t want me to crawl?” I joke as I take it.
“Only if you choose. But not before them. Never before them. They will see you as an equal.”
“They are not my equal.”
His lips twitch. “No. But let them find that out the hard way.”
“It will be my pleasure.”
We step out of his office, into the light.
The crowds part as we glide past. There are plenty of curious glances. Plenty of hostile ones. I still smell like a shifter, a wolf. Another ability I have--controlling my scent. Only the most astute will sense that I am something more.
Lucius seats himself on the throne. I take my place at his side.
“Welcome, children. My dear sired.” The crowd quiets as Lucius surveys them. He’s not smiling, but I can tell he wants to. There’s a touch of cruelty in the corner of his mouth. “You might be wondering why I called you all here. As you know, I attended an auction a month ago. I got a little carried away.” A few vampires titter nervously, and Lucius gives an indulgent smile.
“This evening we celebrate a truly joyous occasion. I have a spectacle ready, the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
I blank my face as the vampires eye me. They expect their King to show off his new submissive, and put me through my paces in front of them.
They’re in for a hell of a surprise.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce Selene.” Lucius holds out a hand and I place mine in his. “Your new queen.”
Lucius
I survey my sired. Shocked, surly, they’re murmuring to each other, reaffirming alliances. One wrong word and they’ll rise against me.
“Sire,” Theophilus steps forward. “Surely you don’t mean to marry a shifter. As lovely as she is, she’s hardly an equal—”
“I disagree.”
Theophilus rocks back on his heels. He spreads his hands as if to say “I tried.” The dissenting murmurs grow louder.
I raise my voice. “The shifter auctions are over. Anyone participating will be killed, except, of course, the shifter victims. They will be freed and paid retribution sum. It will come out of the coffers of any vampire who purchased.”
The room echoes with outright denial. Most vampires are beyond wealthy, but no matter the sum, paying a restitution payment to a shifter will hurt their pride.
Selene quivers at my side, ready to defend me. I place a hand on her back. I’ll unleash my greatest weapon soon. “If you do not obey this command within the week, you won’t just answer to me. You’ll answer to Selene.”
“You expect us to obey your shifter pet?” Someone calls from the crowd.
“Not just obey. I expect you to kneel.”
The vampires recoil.
“I don’t believe this,” Dante pushes his way to the front. There’s no sign of the fawning he usually shows. “Xavier was right--you are weak.” He whirls to face the crowd. “The time has come. The King has reached the end of his rule.” He signals, and two vampires blur from the crowd, leaping towards me.
They never reach the foot of my throne. A flash of light makes the crowd scream. A second later, they’re blinking and groping each other, rubbing
streaming eyes.
The two attacking vampires lie on the ground, stakes jutting from their bodies. Dante’s mouth falls open. The vampires who were at his back edge away.
“What’s that, Dante?” I steeple my fingers. I cock my head and give everyone a lazy grin. They all can see I don’t have a hair out of place.
A few seconds later, they notice the blood spatter on Selene’s white gown.
“I know you planned to rise up against me. Xavier was a good choice for an alliance. Too bad he was ultimately defeated.”
“You lie,” Dante breathes. I fish an item out of my waistcoat pocket and toss his way. Xavier’s eyepatch lands by his foot.
“Your plans have failed,” I tell my sired. None of them are innocent of plotting against me. Even if they didn’t participate in the plans for the coup, they’d didn’t warn me, but waited to see which way the wind blew. Their silence damned them. “You will remain under my rule, and bow to me and my queen. Or you will die.”
Dante snarls, “You’re mad—”
I flick my fingers. Selene blurs from my side. In the blink of an eye she has the traitor on his knees, a stake a few inches in his chest and his head bent back at a painful angle.
“Shall I make an example out of him?” she asks, positioning a second stake at Dante’s throat.
The vampires around her stir, stumble back. They didn’t see her coming. Nobody expects a vampire-shifter hybrid.
“What is this?” Dante croaks. Even from his knees he emanates fury. “What have you done, Frangelico? Turned this she wolf into an abomination--” his rant ends in a gurgle as Selene stakes him fully. Blood sprays in an arc across the well dressed guests. The dead vampire slumps to the floor. Selene slinks back to my side, her white dress speckled with red.
“That was fun,” she tells me with an impish grin. “Who’s next?”
I raise my brows at the crowd. No one moves.
“I’m sure we’ll root out more traitors in the coming months,” I tell Selene. “Good sired are so hard to find these days. You can deal with them however you please.”
“Thank you, Sire,” Selene murmurs and runs her teeth over her fangs.
Theophilus is the first to sink to his knees. Slowly, the whole crowd genuflects to my beautiful queen.
I clap my hands. “That’s done. Let’s all have a drink.” Club servants stream from the corners, passing out goblets of red wine. Two club workers start to remove the bodies and I order them away. “Leave them. An example. You can put them out with the trash this morning.”
After the toast, the BDSM scenes begin. Vampires leave the dungeon and return with their chosen submissives. The club fills with the moans and screams of the damned.
Selene stands at my side, vigilant. She takes her role as my enforcer seriously. I bend my head toward her and she leans close.
“I’ll need your help shutting down the shifter auctions,” I murmur.
“My pleasure,” Selene licks her fangs, watching a group of my sired scuttle past. Most bow their heads, but one shoots a glare her way.
“It may take a few more examples before they fear you,” I observe.
“I’m looking forward to it,” she purrs and I pull her onto my lap.
“Thank you,” I whisper. Because of her, most of my sired will be spared. She will rule beside me, and all will tremble before her power.
“I’m with you, Lucius.” she murmurs. “You will never again be alone.”
“Light of my life.” I motion and a club servant approaches, bowing. He holds out a cushion bearing a shining silver crown. I set the glittering diadem on her head.
“How do I look?” She turns her head so the diamonds catch the light.
“Like a queen.” I grasp her chin. “A crown in public. A collar in private. You will kneel to me, and me alone.”
She bites her lip. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
***
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Please enjoy the first chapter of Alpha’s Blood
Selene
The stage is an old battered platform, transformed by lush red curtains and glaring spotlights. How many Macbeths have died here? How many Hamlets? I wait in the wings, listening to the murmur of the audience. Goosebumps rise up and down my arms.
Relax, my mentor’s voice whispered to me. You’re going to perform splendidly.
I certainly hope so. I’ve trained for this moment my whole life. I’m wearing a strappy silky dress that drapes over my breasts and hips, molding to them with a nod to modesty while leaving my legs bare below mid thigh. The revealing attire doesn’t bother me, but without weapons I’m naked. Since the age of sixteen, I’ve always had weapons on me. I used to fall asleep cradling my favorite: a wooden stake.
This is your greatest role. Your ultimate performance. My mentor said. If you fail, you pay the ultimate price. His voice deepened. Do not fail me.
I will not fail. After tonight, my life will hang in the balance, but that is nothing new. It always has. I’ve waited, and cried and sweated and fought and lived and breathed and died for this moment. The training demanded all of me, and I have given it my all. Whatever happens after tonight was plotted long ago, my part in the plot custom-made for me. I was born to play this role. Everything in my life has led to this moment.
“Ten minute warning,” a black clad backstage hand calls. His gaze drifts over me like I’m a part of the set. I raise my chin and meet his eyes, staring until he drops them and scuttles away. I smooth my see through garment and uncurl my lip. Tonight I pay a submissive part, but not until the curtains rise. I won’t cringe before these cockroaches. I don’t even bow to my mentor. It amuses him, my show of dominance. Or perhaps he thinks my alpha strength will protect me in my final mission. Either way, he allows my cheek. I’d be dead if he didn’t.
Two shadows move in the depths of the stage. I don’t bother glancing back. The guards are there for my protection, and to herd me onto the stage if I get cold feet. Unnecessary. I can’t wait to play this role.
This old theater is long past its use. The air is dusty, stale. The green room holds another, sour scent that only grows worse when you descend the stairs into the basement filled with cages. My mentor hustled me past them, ordering me to focus on the endgame. A part of me wanted to turn and face the cages, find the ones that were full and break the bars. Free the frightened shifters. In another life, that would be my mission. Maybe it still could be—if I survived.
Will they end up on stage? I asked as we climbed the stairs, escaping those glittering eyes.
Some of them, my mentor answered. Some of them are waiting pickup. He caught my anger and disgust and leaned close. This is the perversion that Lucius Frangelico allows. When he is gone, we will right this wrong.
It was the perfect thing to say. When I step on stage, all I will think about is the king sitting in the audience. The end of his reign will send shockwaves through his corrupt kingdom.
But first, Lucius Frangelico has to die.
He is here? Right now? I asked Xavier.
On his way, my mentor answered. My spies report he will arrive in time. Once he is seated, we give the signal, and your part will begin.
My fists clench at my sides and I force them to straighten. Time to get into my role. I must perform perfectly or I won’t survive.
Another figure appears. An older woman emerges from the green room to give me a critical once over. I stand straight and let her study me. I even drop my eyes to the floor, acting like the submissive I’m supposed to be.
My hair is braided and pinned onto my head in a crown. I’m wearing minimal makeup: a hint of eye shadow, mascara, blush. Just enough so the lights don’t wash me out, with a bold touch around my mout
h: the red, red lipstick. The color of blood and vampire dreams.
You will catch his attention immediately, my mentor purred. He will be pleased. Xavier’s eyes swept up and down my half naked form. I told myself his attention was impersonal, clinical, but couldn’t help enjoying the approval glittering in his single eye.
And if he doesn’t take the bait? I asked.
He will. If not tonight, one of my colleagues will purchase you and show you off. Wave you under Frangelico’s nose. It is up to you to catch his attention. Xavier’s large hands closed around my arms, his grip cruel and painful. His fingers left bruises, marks I accepted gratefully. My training didn’t allow for comfort or friendly contact, but it left plenty of marks. I welcomed them like kisses or hugs. Pain became pleasure, and each bruise made me stronger, a honed weapon.
Xavier increased his grip, and I bit back a moan.
Good girl, he said, and my spirits soared. I wasn’t sure if he meant to hurt me until he stepped back and let the makeup artist do her work. When she would cover the marks with makeup, he ordered her to leave them. They catch the eye. Xavier chucked me under the chin. Remember all I’ve taught you. I’d bowed my head and the one-eyed vampire walked off. The makeup artist shuddered, and I gave her a small smile of solidarity. Big, broad as a wrestler, with the ruined side of his face made barely presentable by an eye patch, Xavier was scary. He’d raised and trained me with unrelenting focus on my final goal: revenge. His methods were brutal and cruel. If he hadn’t given me everything I’d need to avenge my slain pack, I’d hate him.
Maybe I do hate him. In my world, hate is an emotion not so far from love.
The makeup artist gives a brisk nod and walks off, her heels clopping on the scarred stage. With my eyes trained on the floor, I can’t escape the signs of shifters—the shed fur, the scrapes on the floor where the guards forced the shifters onto the stage. The shifters who waited in the basement now, shivering in cages. I couldn’t save them tonight. Maybe if I survive.
