Hunted: A Vampire Paranormal Romance (Vampires of Scarlet Harbor Book 2) Page 2

  The creature hissed as its head whipped in my direction. Fangs dripping, red eyes on fire, Bitey McAngryFace released his victim, leaving the boy to sink down to the blacktop below.

  I grabbed hold of the long dagger belted to my thigh, and tried my damnedest not to blink.

  As soon as his foot turned, I put the pointy end out. I took two steps forward, before I lost sight of Bitey. He was too quick to follow, but I knew exactly where he was headed.

  A dark figure appeared from nowhere. His body pushed back as the blade went in. It wasn’t the heart. I couldn’t kill him yet. There was nothing to learn when the creature stopped moving.

  Long, cold fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing the breath out of me. Stars sparkled at the edge of my vision, as darkness faded toward black.

  “Who are you?” His voice was distant, and carried a heavy French accent.

  I wasn’t afraid, though I knew this was the part where I was supposed to be. Instead, I was energized, excited. I was so close to my goal.

  I pulled my blade through the flesh of his arm. And he released. I fell back, on unsteady feet, sucking in all the oxygen I’d been deprived.

  “Forget it,” he said. “You’re dead.”

  I smiled at the monster that held his damaged arm in close to his body, like a clipped wing on a baby bird. There was fury on his never-smiling face, hatred even. It was satisfying.

  He’d killed in every city he stopped, every night he existed. He didn’t need so much to survive—they never did. Survival, I understood; slaughter, I refused to condone.

  This time it was me who attacked first, diving forward at the vampire. Before I could reach him, he had disappeared. I twisted, blade first, on my heel. That’s when I saw him.

  From my side, Adrien struck. Fangs first, the vampire tried to take a bite out of the side of my face. I recoiled, and lodged my dagger deep within his chest. It wasn’t to the hilt, rather two inches shy, upward at an angel that promised direct damage to his aorta. The vamp froze.

  “That’s right,” I said. “Now you get it.”

  “Who are you?” he asked once again.

  “That’s not why we’re here,” I said, watching the red in his eyes fade as fear overtook aggression. “You feel that, right? The tip of the blade tickling just at the edge of your heart?”

  He said nothing.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” I said. “Now I’m going to ask you some questions. You’re going to be a good boy and give me some answers.

  His brown eyes glazed, and he tilted his head forward. I’d seen this before too.

  “Little girl, you’re going to release that knife. You’re going to take the other, and cut right through the center of your stomach. You’re going to smile as you watch your—”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “How?”

  “Glamour-proof contacts,” I said. “Doesn’t everyone sport a pair?” Popping those babies in was the first thing I did every morning when I woke.

  His jaw dropped. I dug the blade a quarter inch deeper for his arrogance. And he winced.

  “Where are you headed?” I asked.

  He just looked at me, with hate, and with fear. Another quarter inch.

  “Fine,” he growled. Then he lifted his hands above his head. “Just stop. I’ll tell you anything.”

  I nodded. “Why are all the vampires going south?” I asked. “Where are you going?”

  “Scarlet Harbor,” he said. “That’s all I know. There’s nothing else, really. It’s all—”

  And I believed him. Flashes of his victims passed through my head, memories of bloodied bodies left in his wake. So with that, I finished the job, putting the pointy end to good use and finishing our conversation.

  When the vamp fell, I looked to the boy. He sat mumbling to himself with his hands over his face. I checked the girl, and found she had a pulse. Her eyes opened as I stood back up over her.

  “What the…” The girl gasped as she looked at my blade. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”

  I wiped my blade on the dead vamp’s shirt before looking one last time at slasher bait. She looked horrified, and disgusted. It was a common reaction. I smiled, considered what she’d just been through, and settled on my response.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter Three

  Walter

  Little in life remains constant through time. It was a truth that I found occasionally difficult to stomach. I’d accepted that change was inevitable, often not better, nor worse, only different.

  Medical advancements prolonged human life, yet the chemical byproducts of their machinery diseased them. Communication across distance had become instantaneous, allowing for important news to be spread quickly, yet civility and manners had faded away. The small, glass brick in my pocket was both a marvel and a curse. Disturbances in the streets could be reported posthaste, and with that, the queen could summon me from anywhere, for her every whim.

  I looked over the stone facade. The Ulfhednar Estate was both a walled compound and a residence two stories tall, with over five thousand feet of floor space. I still remembered the first time I laid eyes on this structure, the awe it had inspired. But that was long ago.

  The estate had been my home for all one hundred eighty-five years of my immortal life, although I could hardly stand walking through the door since my sire had been ripped from his rightful place as ruler. This was Tyr’s home. Not Yeke’s. Not Ashley’s. It was meant to house the Ulfhednar bloodline, as it had since my sire had completed its construction.

  Thoughts and memories of Tyr were bittersweet. And this place was full of them.

  The entrance to the walled yard had once been only dirt, then cobblestone. Cobblestone was later traded for brick, but never the tar-coated rock of city streets. I’d watched horses come and go, carriages after, until the occasional car. Now, the pristine lawn was overrun with a swarm of oversized metal wagons, monstrosities that turned the green into a steel wasteland. Where had they all come from?

  The most likely cause was mutiny. Vampires far and wide converging on the throne to remove the inept child from her place of power. For that assessment to fit the circumstances, the queen should have shown some sign of distress over the phone. Perhaps the lynch mob had not yet arrived when she had called. The prospect of watching another ruler fall left me numb. The only loyalty I held was to Tyr Ulfhednar, yet my duty was to defend the woman sleeping in his bed.

  Noise carried out into the darkness, voices from within. I cracked my neck, then opened the heavy front doors and stepped inside, ready for a fight.

  The great room was packed, vampires stuffed in like sardines, at least fifty men and women in the entry alone. The mood was tense, but not volatile. No weapons were drawn. No brawl ensued.

  The temperature was hot, as Ashley liked it, with a fire blazing in the hearth. Fires were likely burning in every room. Before her, the estate had never been warm. The gray stone walls remained cool year-round.

  The hardwood floors and vaulted ceilings were meant to echo the sounds of every footstep. That wasn’t the case with so many bodies crammed together.

  The black leather seating was full, with others crowded against it on every side. So much talking. So much unnecessary noise. And not a heartbeat in earshot.

  I pushed my way forward, shoving those in my way aside, some I recognized, others I did not. There were young vampires, recently turned, and those who had been in Scarlet Harbor for decades past.

  Natasha Avilov, frail and elegant as always, stood with her collection of progenies. Each of her males looked just like the last—brown hair, tan skin, dark eyes. She had five, one for every decade since she’d been turned. In another year or so, she was likely to collect a sixth.

  I nodded to her when our eyes met.

  Sylvester Nottingham was here. Gravely, Milton, and Horse as well. Horse’s real name I never learned, only the story of his deformation before the change. After, I didn’t
know why he kept the nickname, but he did.

  I nodded in greeting to those I knew and respected as I headed toward Tyr’s office, where the Queen most certainly awaited.

  “It doesn’t matter what it is.” A deep voice carried above the others. I froze.

  “If you didn’t want to hear,” said another, “why’d you bother coming?”

  “You know why,” said the first. It was a voice that made me tense, and not just from his ominous words. Arthur Evans.

  I ignored his presence and continued walking, carving a path between those who stood in my way.

  “Hey!” A hand waved overhead, in the center of the sea of bodies. “Hey, hey! Over here.” I didn't need the connection we shared, nor the ability to see his blond hair, to know the arm bobbing up and down belonged to my progeny. Charles Bloom was always unmistakable.

  Altering my course, I followed the sound of my progeny’s voice until I found him.

  Charles shook his straw-straight, shoulder-length hair from his face. His eyes lit up as I acknowledged his presence.

  “Walter, hey,” he said. Still too talkative. How many years would it take for that to pass?

  Beside him stood my blood brother, Bennet Pierce, statuesque as he watched the closed doors to the throne room that had once been our sire’s office.

  I’d seen less of my brother as of late, since he was given charge of ‘Safety Patrol' by Ashley, and since he’d found his amor aeternus, in a wolf shifter of all creatures. At least one of us had found some semblance of peace and happiness in this life.

  “I wonder what she’s going to say,” Charlie said.

  I turned my attention back to my progeny. He likely knew more than I.

  “Her majesty had me bring everyone in,” he said. “I’ve been all over the city tonight. Can you believe how many vampires actually live in Scarlet Harbor? I mean, it’s way more than I—”

  “She called for this?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Charlie said. “It’s some kind of grand announcement or something. Everyone’s got a guess. I’m thinking since she made that deal with the blood bank, she isn’t just offering the bags of blood to everyone anymore, but making everyone drink that frozen stuff.”

  The idea made my stomach turn.

  “But if it was up to me, it’d be a harem,” Charles said. “We’d collect all the hottest chicks from the college, give ’em nighties or teddies or whatever those things are—”

  “It’s bad news,” Bennet said. “No matter what this is about, it’ll end in trouble.”

  I agreed with my blood brother. Nothing the queen had decreed had gone over well, starting with her declaration of rule. She was too young, too inexperienced, and too emotional to lead. There was zero chance for this night to end well.

  I made my way toward the office. She had called for me. I would see her. Now.

  “Walter, hey, wait…” Charles’s voice faded into the din.

  By the door, I stopped and waited. The guards assessed me, two shirtless men, one on each side of the entry. When they had worked for Yeke, I’d found their presence insulting. Tyr had never stationed guards. There shouldn’t have been a need for them. Loyalty was meant to be the shield of the ruler. But this was worse. The uniform had changed with the regime, just like everything else had. Instead of the uniforms they had donned before, the sentries were adorned with nothing but slacks and shoes. Maybe Charles’s absurd harem suggestion wasn’t as farfetched as it should have been.

  I didn’t have to wait long before the doors opened. As teacher and slave to the queen, my entry to her quarters was expected.

  No fond memories of this room remained. It was a reminder of Tyr bloodied and chained on the floor, of me and my kin shackled at the feet of Yeke, and of Ashley King ruling over us all.

  Her back was turned. A woman kneeled behind her, tightening the laces of her corset. When the woman stood, Ashley turned. Her dress was long and wide, half the style from when I was still alive, half wedding gown. The fabric was as black as everything else she picked. And like everything else about the queen, it was over-the-top ridiculous.

  “Walter, dear,” she said with a smile, then kissed me on each cheek. “There you are.”

  I stiffened as her hands grasped my arms, her lips touched my skin. My gut reaction was to flinch, to tear the smile from her face with my bare hands. I remained still.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. I wouldn’t want to make the announcement without you,” she said.

  “What announcement?”

  “You’ll see.” She smiled wider. I didn’t like the sound of that. I didn’t like any of it. There were too many vampires here in one place. It was a massacre waiting to happen. And whatever the queen had to say, it couldn’t be good. Announcements never were.

  She grabbed my arm and pulled, forcing me to follow her onto the platform where Yeke had styled himself a throne. Apparently Ashley liked it well enough, as this was one room that had remained the same since she’d taken his life and his position.

  “Open the doors,” the queen commanded, and lifted her chin. She liked looking down on the rest of us, or so it appeared. It was another nail in her coffin, another tick in a long list of reasons her subjects hated her.

  Vampires flooded into Tyr’s office, Ashley’s throne room. Most couldn’t fit or hear the words she wished to share.

  She picked up a bullhorn. Or maybe all would hear.

  Skepticism showed on the faces in the crowd. Contempt, and annoyance as well. No one but Charles appeared happy to be there. I knew I wasn’t.

  “Good evening, vampires of the Chesapeake region,” Ashley said into the machine. The sound was harsh and much too loud.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said. “As you know, I, your queen, have an announcement to make. Henceforth, there will be no killing. No one is permitted to take a human life, under any circumstances.”

  The estate went silent as her words sank in. Horror, hatred, anger. That’s what I saw from my peers. And as I, too, listened to the royal decree, all I could think was that it was worse than anything I could have imagined. Everything was over. Her life. Mine.

  Bollocks.

  Chapter Four

  Walter

  Tension boiled over. Fangs descended. Irises clouded blood-red.

  A low rumble of voices filled the throne room.

  My attention focused on Arthur Evans over the rest, though he looked no more disgusted than anyone else.

  “Killing’s who we are,” a male voice carried over the thrum of the others. “You can’t take that away.”

  Across the room, someone else said, “I’ve had about enough of this shit show.”

  I couldn’t decipher them all, but I didn’t have to. I knew what they thought. It was exactly what I thought. Ashley King was unfit to rule. Her regard for human life outweighed reason and overshadowed respect for our nature. Control over our kind was tenuous at best. And a decree like this was too extreme to let pass.

  I was torn between remaining where I stood, defending the queen, and joining the crowd whose sentiment mirrored my own. I hated the fact that she had blindsided me with this, brought me here as if I stood with her, and offered me no warning in advance. Had she only discussed this with me ahead of time, we would not be in this situation. I would have told her what a mistake this would be. I could have helped guide her into creating positive change through less strict means.

  Requiring a vampire not to kill was requiring he not defend himself, forcing him to put the mortal lives of others before his own. It could have been a sanction reducing deaths, or restricting circumstances, but this broad stroke was as impossible to ask as it was to enforce.

  I wished to pull her aside, to explain everything that was wrong with this childish notion of doing no harm. I wished to jump down and berate her, just like everyone else. But it was too late for either.

  Light glimmered off the razor’s edge of a silver blade. I snapped my wrist, catching the hilt mid-air. It was insti
nct.

  The point of the blade stopped just an inch from the queen’s chest.

  “This night is over!” My voice boomed through the estate.

  The sounds of the crowd cut off, leaving silence.

  “Leave this place,” I said. Frustration boiled within me, a storm that threatened to rip everything apart.

  They stared at me. All of them.

  “Now.”

  Feet shuffled and soft conversations picked up between vamps. But they did as they were bid.

  A weight lifted, though my chest remained tight. Why had I defended her? She deserved that attack, and worse. There was no adoration, no respect in me for her.

  “This isn’t over, Chapman,” Evans said as he followed the crowd out the door.

  His words lingered, repeating in my head. Of course the trouble wasn’t over. It was about to begin. I’d chosen a side by catching that knife, and it was a decision that left me uncertain, left me both committed and vulnerable.

  A soft sound made me turn, a high-pitched noise that echoed through the now-vacant room.

  Ashley stood, looking at me with her green eyes and a smile upon her face. Her chest gently lifted and fell. In laughter.

  The sound grew louder. I just stared.

  I felt my progeny’s approach from behind.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “You,” the queen replied.

  I was tempted to finish the job someone else had started, bury the blade in the side of her neck, watch as that stupid smile slid away from her lips.

  “For all your dagger-glances and gritted teeth, you actually like me,” she said. “It’s cute.”

  I’d never been described in such a manner. Cute? It was disgusting.