There are only two ways a human can cross the gates of Bloodstone Institute: as a familiar to one of the blueblood vampires who attend the elite school or as a snack.
I’m neither, but I have to get in at all costs. My brother made a big mistake, and now I have to fix it by stealing from the most powerful and cruel vampire to ever come to Bloodstone, Lucca Della Morte. If that wasn’t almost suicidal, I need to get it done before the spell concealing my human nature wears off.
But I forget that I’m only pretending to be a vampire. I’m still human and susceptible to Lucca’s dangerous allure. His darkness calls to my soul. His savagery makes my blood sing. I’m falling for the dark prince, craving him in a visceral way that’s frightening and exciting at the same time.
If he discovers my secret, he’ll destroy me. And yet, I can’t help wanting to get closer. I never thought I had a death wish until I met him.
Havoc. That’s the name of this club. Appropriate. It’s dark, loud, and brimming with humans more than ready to satiate my hunger. It took me a while to get used to the noise. Night entertainment sure as shit has changed since the last time I was awake.
My latest snack is passed out on the VIP couch, utterly spent. Feeding and fucking go hand in hand, but unlike the human currently snoring next to me, I’m far from satisfied. My strength has returned, and thanks to all the blood I’ve drunk already, I’m almost caught up on what I missed in the past ninety-five years. Blood remembers.
Opposite me, Saxon is busy getting it on with some random girl. Ronan and Manu have disappeared to I-don’t-know-where. So much for my reawakening party. That’s my inner circle in a nutshell—a bunch of assholes. Not that I’m any better.
I catch the attention of the nearest bouncer, signaling him to get rid of the passed out human. I’m ready for the next one.
Not a minute later, I find my new target. A pretty little thing in black leather is walking over, carrying one single shot on her tray. Slender yet curvy in all the right places, blonde hair cascading down her back, and full lips begging to be tasted, she’s exactly what I need.
Immediately, my fangs descend, and my cock hardens. I watch her approach, not hiding the hunger that’s surely shining in my eyes now. When she stops in front of me, I can hear how fast her heart is beating; I can smell her fear.
Interesting.
Most humans who come to these places aren’t afraid of us. They know exactly what we want, and they give it willingly in the hopes of being turned. Little do they know we no longer have that power.
“What’s your name, sugar?” I ask, not hiding the craving in my voice.
“Re-Rebecca.” She clutches the tray harder while tremors run through her body.
A lie. That’s not her name. I’m not surprised she wasn’t truthful. She’s not afraid; she’s gripped by terror, which makes her even more alluring to me. I’m a predator after all.
Not taking my eyes off her face, I run my fingers up her naked legs. “What do you have for me, Rebecca?”
She doesn’t answer for a couple of beats. In fact, she’s not even breathing. I suspect she might bolt out of here at any second.
“A special shot. On the house,” she finally replies.
My lips curl into a grin. I was wondering when Derek Blackwater, the owner of Havoc, would send me a welcome gift. He was the last human to be turned into a vampire, and thus, he’s almost as old as I. But that’s as far my knowledge of his dark past goes. The guy is a mystery.
“Is that so?” My hand disappears underneath her skirt, and when I squeeze her ass, she gasps.
“Yes,” she breathes out.
My pulse skyrockets. Damn it. It’s normal to be thirstier soon after an awakening, but my reaction to this human is stronger than I anticipated.
With shaking hands, she hands over the shot glass. I don’t know what kind of drink this is, but I’m past the point of caring. I throw my head back and drink it in one single gulp. Immediately, my head becomes fuzzy.
With a frown, I stare at the empty glass, seeing double. “What the hell?”
I sense someone yank on my necklace, a piece of jewelry I never take off. The fucking human is trying to steal from me. My movements are sluggish now, which means she laced my drink with vampire’s bane.
Motherfucker.
The necklace chain snaps at the same time that I manage to get over the poison’s effect. I’m fully recharged, thanks to my ninety-five-year nap, and thus, I’m less susceptible to vampire’s bane’s effects. The thief is about to take off, but I grab her wrist, digging my nails into her soft skin, drawing blood. A single whiff of her scent changes everything. My vision turns crimson, my eyes zero in on her neck, and my ears only hear the sound of her blood pumping in her veins.
The desire to sink my fangs into her soft skin is no longer about retribution. This is pure and raw bloodlust.
I jump from the couch, trapping the girl between my arms. She struggles, she screams, but no one will come to her aid.
Sudden pain shoots up the back of my head, clearing my vision for a second. The human is pulled from me by Saxon, and then Manu is blocking my way.
“What the hell, Lucca! I leave you alone for a moment, and that’s what you do?” Her golden eyes are glowing in the dark, showing how angry she’s with me.
“She poisoned me with vampire’s bane,” I grit out, trying to control the feral instinct that’s demanding I rip the human’s throat to shreds.
“Let me go!” She fights Saxon’s hold.
“Take it easy, sweet cheeks. You’re not going anywhere.”
I don’t dare to move. I’m not over the bloodlust yet. I haven’t succumbed to it since the worst evening of my life centuries ago. Why now?
“What’s this?” Saxon pulls an object from the girl’s grasp.
“My necklace,” I say. “Bitch came here to steal from me.”
Saxon lobs it in my direction, and then Manu whirls around, displaying her talon-like nails. Fuck. Now she wants a piece of the human too.
No. She’s mine.
“Who sent you here?” my sister asks the girl.
The thief doesn’t have a chance to reply. Ronan comes running, his face twisted in the deepest frown and his entire body exuding anger. He spares a fleeting glance at the puny human in Saxon’s grasp and then turns to me.
“We’ve got company,” he says. “Tatiana’s sycophants are here.”
Damn everything to hell. They had to show up now. I could simply kill the human with a single blow and be done with retaliation. But my body immediately rejects that idea. I can’t do it.
With regret, I turn to Saxon. “Forget her.”
His eyebrows furrow while he watches me as if I’d lost my mind. I’m not sure I haven’t. Releasing someone who poisoned me and tried to steal from me is not my MO, but my revenge will have to wait. I have an older debt to settle and a message to send.
Michelle Hercules always knew creative arts were her calling but not in a million years did she think she would become an author. With a background in fashion design she thought she would follow that path. But one day, out of the blue, she had an idea for a book. One page turned into ten pages, ten pages turned into a hundred, and before she knew, her first novel, The Prophecy of Arcadia, was born.
Michelle Hercules resides in The Netherlands with her husband and daughter. She is currently working on the
