Prologue: Frederick
Matthew has never embraced himself as a vampire and it’s such a waste; we could accomplish great things together. I could even potentially forgive the fact that he stole Sisters of Mercy away from me. But he’ll never join me—or any other vampire for that matter—because he’s too dedicated to his self-righteous humans, trying to cling onto the past instead of accepting the future. We are the future. And I would one day see it with my own eyes.
I headed back into my exclusive fetish club while Matthew raced back to his car, eager to get himself and his new passion project away from the place. He’d call it unsavory, when I’d call it a beautiful haven of self-expression, exploration, and discovery.
Fangloria.
The night was just starting to heat up, now with a line of ready and willing patrons snaking along the outside of the building, many of the women bundled up in long coats.
I sauntered up behind two men being patted down by the bouncers. When they turned around to raise their hands and spread their legs—for the bouncers to continue their search for prohibited items—my eyes met each of their gazes. One glance told me exactly what they were—and that they were in good company.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” I said, giving them each a nod. “I trust you’ll find what you’re looking for inside.”
“I trust we shall,” one responded.
I clapped the burly male bouncer—known here simply as Mammoth—as I passed. I headed inside.
A group of three women stood at coat check. The woman who evidently hadn’t needed a coat wore a form-fitting, short black dress; it was nice but could be seen in every club in Hollywood. She was either new or nervous—probably both. The way she glanced around at the other nearby patrons, then at her friends as they shed their outerwear, confirmed it.
The blonde friend handing her coat to Laurel, currently running the coat check, wore an emerald colored corset with a matching garter and stockings. Then, a redhead carrying her own coat draped over one forearm had on nothing more than a black bra set. Peeking out of the cup of her bra, I noticed a portion of the Vampire Nation stamp. At least she would be a willing participant. Her friends would most likely follow suit without too much of a fuss, though they might put up some resistance later.
I walked up to the delicious-looking trio and offered my hand. “Good evening, ladies. I want to thank you for coming to my humble establishment. And, to express my deepest gratitude, I’d like to personally invite you to join me in my exclusive VIP suite.”
The redhead looked absolutely giddy when I pulled out the golden key necklace from under my shirt, removed it, and placed it around her inviting neck. I brushed my fingers across her smooth skin as I deliberately positioned the key right between her breasts.
“Come find me later,” I instructed. “Show any staff member the key and they will guide you to the secret location.”
The blonde enthusiastically admired the key around her friend’s neck. The fake blonde in the black dress seemed less impressed, only increasing my desire to get my hands on her—among other things.
“Thank you. We’ll do that, mister…” the redhead began.
“Alabaster,” I said, kissing the seductive kitten’s hand.
“Mr. Alabaster,” she purred.
I left them to giggle and prattle among themselves while I attended to the situation I’d left in The Cellar. The lounges had quickly become standing room only, the dancefloors now single gyrating organisms. I could smell the blood, sweat, and sex all around, a wonderfully rewarding treat.
Upon reaching the booth where I’d confronted the four men for Fiona’s sake, I found the three males I’d sent away earlier were now back and awaiting my arrival. The one whose neck I’d broken was still a large motionless mass on the floor.
“I see you received my message,” I said, now standing before them.
“Yes, Mr. Alabaster,” the guy with the large nose said, as he sat in the center.
“You may now pick up your friend,” I instructed.
Two of the men jumped into action and heaved the large, hairy male off the floor, supporting him by both arms. I reached out and twisted his head back into its original position with a few more pops and cracks. As he seemed to miraculously come back to life, the two men helped him down onto the couch.
“Damn, that hurt,” the large man said as he slowly got his faculties back.
“I can relate,” I said. “Living long enough, it’s bound to happen to each of us at some point. It’s not pleasant, but it’s better than the alternative—me ripping your heart clean out of your chest.”
“You wouldn’t have wanted the hassle of cleaning the mess.”
“Probably true,” I laughed. “Especially not in front of all my other valued guests. Now, I want to apologize for the inconvenience. This has been a rather unexpected evening. See, the girl you were given is one of mine and explicitly off limits.”
“We didn’t—”
“And I understand you didn’t know that, which provided for the unfortunate roleplaying. I had no initial intention of disturbing your evening and hope you’ll accept my sincerest apology. If it had been nearly any other girl, I’d have had no issue. So… I would like to personally make it up to you. I’ll have one of my promoters bring down a new girl for you, free of charge. If the one you had earlier fitted your desires, then I’ll find a similar replacement.”
“I want two,” the burly man said, his head still bobbing slightly as he continued to heal.
I grinned wide. “I love the negotiation!” I exclaimed, wickedly. “Then two you shall have!”
“How about one for each—”
My gaze quickly darkened. “My generosity only goes so far,” I countered, shutting the middle man up. “Hold tight, gentlemen. Your entertainment will be here shortly.”
The men thanked me and I headed back up to the next level before calling my Promotional Lead, Ajah, to give her the requirements for the girls needed downstairs. She’d scour the club and hand-pick just the right ones for our eagerly waiting guests. If she was so inclined, she could offer herself up as a gift as well, as long as we had enough other promoters working the rooms; her professional duties did have to come first.
No seats remained at the bar, so I walked around and poured myself a glass of the deepest red. We only served animal blood—and with that only small animals, mostly rodents—so we didn’t have a paper trail leading back to the hospitals and blood banks. The human blood here, though, was always fresh—exclusively from living participants.
Before I’d had a chance to finish my glass, I received another call. It was Ajah, and I was afraid that my guests downstairs might be demanding additional compensation for their inconvenience.
“What is it?” I asked. My expectation to be irked immediately laced my voice with irritation.
“Sir, your guests are being escorted to your suite,” Ajah said.
That was fast. They didn’t waste any time, I thought. “Very good. I’ll be there shortly,” I said and hung up. There was no use savoring the rest of that inferior blood, so I downed the rest of my glass in a single gulp.
I crossed several rooms to reach a doorway covered with a black curtain. Over the door was a posted sign that read, Staff Only Beyond This Point. Behind the curtain, a descending staircase hid itself away, leading to a separate part of the basement from The Cellar, although an interconnecting door was available between the two for our convenience.
I passed storage rooms, break rooms, and several offices until I reached a closed, nondescript door with a large deadbolt. Besides the one on my keyring, the only other key floating around the club was the one I’d given to the salacious redhead at the coat check. Uninterested in delaying my gratification any longer, I unlocked the door and stepped inside my private bedroom suite.
The three young women were seated on the sofa, each with a drink in one hand. The key necklace was set upon the coffee table. I flashed a warm smile as I used my key to lock the deadbolt from the inside; they’d be able to leave only when I allowed them to—not before.
“Eager, are we?” I asked as I strolled into the spacious room, unbuttoning my shirt. I let it slide down my arms and then tossed it over the back of a chair.
“We didn’t want you to rescind the offer,” the redhead said. “This place is gorgeous.”
“It’s all right,” I said, giving a sly grin as I picked up the key necklace and hung it around my neck.
The fake blonde in the black dress was shaking, her legs tightly crossed. Only ice remained in her glass. My eyes continued to the tall blonde in the emerald corset; she looked straight at me as she sipped her drink.
“First time?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, pouting. “So please, go easy on me.”
“I make no promises,” I said.
“My name’s Lacy,” the redhead said, cutting in. “And these are my friends, Taylor and Sam.”
“Short for Samantha?” I asked the nervous fake blonde.
She nodded.
“I like Samantha better.” My grin remained wide. “Who would like to start the festivities?” I asked, my gaze traveling along the row of them.
The redhead set her empty glass on the coffee table and rose from the sofa.
“Use a coaster, sweetling,” I demanded.
She pursed her lips yet did as she was told.
“That’s right,” I said stepping to her and grabbing her by the neck. “You and your friends will do everything I command of you, or you shall be punished. Do as commanded, and you shall be rewarded. You wish to be rewarded—right, sweetling?”
“Yes,” she squeaked out.
I relieved some of the pressure on her neck. “Yes what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Now… tonight you’re all mine and I will do with you as I damn well please,” I growled, swept her off her feet, then turned my attention to her friends. “When you’re ready, come and join us. Be sure to take off your outerwear first. We don’t want to get any blood on them.” I carried the redhead to the king-sized bed, released my fangs, then climbed atop her with an aching thirst I was ready to quench.
Chapter 1: Fiona
I sat on a barstool at Hot Coffee, sipping a delicious white mocha—that I still got away with not paying for—and pretending my life was normal when it was anything but. I stayed like that a few minutes, trying to understand everything. Words couldn’t even begin to describe the processing that had gone on in my head at the revelation that Mom was in league with the Society’s nemesis, Damien Galt—and that the Damien Galt everyone knew was only a puppet, not the puppet master. Frederick Alabaster was really the man behind the curtain, and Mom was right there with him.
I couldn’t remain mad at Matthew for withholding information about my mother and keeping secrets with regards to the True North Society, even though I was an initiated member now. I had a real doozy of a secret myself, which I needed to keep, ensuring the safety of myself and those I cared about—including Matthew. I knew Matthew and Frederick had history, but I’d only heard details from Frederick, so the information was obviously biased. I didn’t know what to believe but wasn’t about to ask for Matthew’s confirmation of anything.
My friends were a little more reluctant to come back to my side. Candace was certainly someone to hold a grudge, but even she couldn’t give me the cold shoulder forever, especially now our little band of misfits would soon be breaking up.
Alexis would be leaving the nest and attending UCSD in the fall, which was quickly approaching.
Candace would be attending a local junior college, so she wasn’t going anywhere; she’d simply stay on as a Hot Coffee barista, despite Eli’s protests for her to swap places with Alexis. Each time he did, Candace would remind Eli how he’d be stuck with her for a lifetime. Candace and Eli working together just underlined how it had been Candace’s longest relationship to date; her volatile, on-off relationship with Brian was currently off—most likely because they’d be attending different schools this fall. Candace had a hard enough time with regular relationships; a long distance one would simply be asking for disaster.
Alexis, too, was making a clean break, headed for San Diego where she was ready to pledge a sorority and mingle with the college guys. Around graduation, she was bitter she hadn’t gotten accepted to UCLA but the summer had really warmed her up to San Diego as more than just a consolation school. She’d already worked out a deal with the store manager, allowing her to work over Christmas break.
“You’ve been nursing that thing for like twenty minutes,” Candace said, hopping up onto the prep counter before me. “Are you becoming a coffee lightweight now, too?”
“It was too hot,” I complained. “I had to start slow.”
“I made it to 175 degrees, just the way you like it. So, don’t give me that crap about it being too hot.”
“Maybe your thermometer needs calibrating,” I shot back, my lips curling up into a wry smile.
“My thermometers are always calibrated to perfection.” Candace rhythmically kicked her heel into the cabinet below and watched as Alexis took the order from a middle-aged woman whose large glasses—connected to long chains that swooped at her cheeks—reminded me of a stereotypical librarian.
“No; what would be perfection is getting through an entire shift with your feet firmly planted on the floor,” Eli said as he strolled in from outside, two empty mugs dangling from each hand.
“Yes, boss,” Candace said, jumping down from the counter and taking a newly rotated cup from Alexis.
“When’s your break over?” Eli asked, stopping in the exact spot Candace had just vacated. “I still forget sometimes that you no longer work here. Maybe I can convince Mr. Fiennes to let you take Alexis’s spot when she leaves. I still don’t totally get why he laid you off.”
“I’ve done my time here,” I said. “I’ve accepted moving on.”
“But you haven’t; you’re here almost every day. If you’re gonna be here, you might as well get paid for it.”
I laughed. “Part of me would like that. But no.”
“Have you found another job yet?” Eli probed.
“Not exactly.”
“Then—”
“I’m starting fall semester in a few weeks, so I don’t want to worry about a new job.”
“This wouldn’t be a new job. And where are you going? Why don’t your friends seem to know? When did you become so secretive?”
“Canyon JC,” I said and took another sip of my now tepid white mocha. It was really never too hot.
“Isn’t that where Candace is going?”
“No; she’s going to Santa Ana.”
“It’s crazy you’re all splitting up. Your ex is going to New York, right? I thought I overheard Alexis say something about that.”
“Yup; he’s gone in like a week,” I said, glad that Sean hadn’t gone through with his decision to stay for me. It simplified everything to have him move forward with his original plans, so I could more comfortably move ahead with my new ones—with the Society and Matthew.
“Where is your stormy new boyfriend?” Alexis asked, turning from the register.
“I dunno,” I said, which with all his Society-issued tasks was the truth. Though we hadn’t gotten to the point of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend, it felt good to hear someone else label us as such. “It’s not like we keep tabs on each other twenty-four seven.”
“I just haven’t seen him around in a while. Eli mentioning Sean made me think of him.” Alexis took a sip of her iced tea, which she kept safely stowed beside the register.
“It seems we all have to live vicariously through you now,” Candace said, rounding the pastry case as the librarian lady made her way to the door with her iced latte of some kind.
“Hardly,” I said, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.
“I’m not asking for the details of your lovemaking,” Candace said and was about to say more when Eli cut her off.
“We’re not going to discuss this here. What you girls talk about on your own time is your business,” he said. “Look, more customers.”
The bell above the door chimed as a family of four strolled into the shop.
“Come on, Eli. Don’t act like you don’t want to know,” Candace said and sauntered back to her position by the bar.
“There is no lovemaking,” I said sourly under my breath as everyone turned away and got back to work. Matthew was still the perfect gentleman. Maybe he was afraid. Or maybe he just didn’t like me as much as he said he did, which in turn made me a little scared.
Chapter 2: Matthew
We forced Damien Galt’s limo into an empty alleyway; it skidded, almost unable to make the turn without hitting the brick veneer of the building to the left. Once back in a straight line, the limo accelerated, trying to put some space between us. But we had the far end of the alley covered.
Like clockwork, another SUV turned into the alley, heading toward the limo, blocking its escape. Both vehicles slammed on the brakes, the SUV skidding lengthwise to provide the best barrier. The reverse lights of the limo shone but our SUV was quickly closing in, then skidding to a lengthwise halt as well.
I braced myself for impact, but the limo braked again, leaving not more than a foot of space between our vehicles.
“What did I tell you?” Syrithia said, jumping out of the driver’s seat. “Piece of cake.”
I climbed out through my window and used the rear of the limo as a step, hopping down to join the rest of the team.
Two angels emerged from the other SUV; they were Georges and Frances. Just Syrithia and I were in the trailing SUV. Two vampires, Kaden and Thaddeus, were positioned in the buildings making up either side of the alley, each one at a third-floor window, ready with their rifles.
Instead of waiting for anyone to exit the limo, the three angels simply opened fire, riddling the side panels of the limo with bullet holes and shattering all the blacked-out windows. I’d known that was the plan, but had a hard time shooting into a car without seeing the target. Syrithia and her crew seemed to have no such qualms.
The other members of the group had been supplied by the Vampire Order, officially headed up by Syrithia. We’d been tracking Damien Galt’s movements and making sense of his chaotic schedule over much of the summer. He traveled around the country for joint ventures and speaking engagements, but he also had offices and thus spent the majority of his time between New York and Los Angeles. He’d been back in LA nearly a week as we organized the strike, making sure to target both Galt and Clementine Biel together. Even though they weren’t married, she was as much his first lady as any president’s wife—a power couple at the head of their global enterprise. Even though we’d focused on Damien Galt over the years, Clementine was just as much of a silent threat.
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