Bitten by Darkness: The Forbidden Freedom Series, #1

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to:

.

My parents, who nurtured my love of books

My husband, who didn’t think this was a crazy dream

My children, who make this crazy dream worth it

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CHAPTER 1

I hate this place. Charlie sighed as he gazed up at the mansion he once called home.  Not that it had ever felt like home. Ever. 

He swept through the fresh layer of snow that covered the walkway leading to the large, double French doors. Solar lights dotted the path, and the marble columns on each side of the entrance loomed above him.  It was a pretty picture that hid the horror within. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the task at hand.

Pushing his way through the doors, he stepped into the grand foyer.  A long, red carpet ran along the marble floor and up the winding staircase.  He barely made it through the door before a slave came and insisted on taking his bags. Charlie nodded, squinting at the balding man who crouched to pick up his heavy suitcase.

Paul? Is that you?  

The man gave him a wide grin. Good to have you back, Master Charles.

Charlie gaped at him. Hell, you’ve gotten old. I barely recognized you.  He’d spent the last decade surrounded by the ancient, but ageless.  Paul’s thinning grey hair was a shocking reminder that time had certainly marched on.

Paul laughed, a hearty sound that brightened the gloomy mood Charlie had been carrying around with him since he’d received his Maker’s summons to return home. And I see you haven’t aged one bit, sir.

Being undead will do that.

Wait until I tell Nessie you’ve returned. She’ll be so surprised. Paul huffed as he lugged the suitcase across the room towards the stairs.  

Nessie. Gods, how he’d missed that child.  She was the one thing that made him not dread returning to this wretched place.  He remembered sitting in the study for hours as he’d listen to her tell fantastical tales of adventure.  One of her favorite stories had been Peter Pan. You’d make a perfect Peter, she’d chirp. You never get older. Even now, he smiled at the memory of the lively little girl. Almost made him forget all the horrid things he’d had to do during his never-ending service to his Maker.

Charlie, my boy!

He ground his molars. Speak of the devil. Jacques swooped into the room, clapping him on the shoulder. A vivid picture of punching the bastard in the nose crossed his mind. Instead, he managed a smile and hoped his face cooperated. The grin on Jacques’ pale face told him he managed well enough.

How did we do at council? At least Jacques wasted little time on niceties. Straight to the point. Thank the gods. Less time he had to pretend to smile. His Maker often sent Charlie to take care of the tedious negotiations at council.  If he received the council’s approval, he returned to Jacques to notify him of the success.

Well, sir. The council seems quite interested in your proposal to expand the blood and slave markets across seas. Charlie’s gut churned. It had become common practice to use human slaves again after the supernaturals had come out into the open. The practice never sat well with him, having fought in the American Civil War four centuries earlier. He had survived the hell of battle only to dive headfirst into the pit a few short years later. Thanks to the son of a bitch clutching his shoulder like a long-lost friend.

Excellent, excellent. Took them long enough to decide. Jacques stepped away, crossing the room toward the wet bar. Charlie resisted the urge to wipe his shoulder clean.

Yes, sir. I apologize for the delay in my return, but-

Jacques laughed, a cold contrast to Paul’s hearty one. With those old windbags, I’m surprised it didn’t take you a century to convince them. And never, ever apologize. It’s weak to admit you were wrong. Makes other people question you. And we can’t have that, especially now.

Now, sir?

Of course!  Jacques pointed at him.  I expect you to hold down the fort while I’m at council setting up the expansion operations. And these slaves need a firm hand. Hell, even some of the vampires do.  Otherwise, they forget who the master is.

It took Charlie a moment to compose himself. Master... of the entire estate? He cleared his throat. Are you sure, sir? Aren’t there more experienced-

No, no, no. Jacques shook his head. You’ve shown me dedication, loyalty, and quite a sharp mind to deal with the council members. You’re the best man for the job. Besides, Kat would be the next eldest, and I’ll be damned before I put a woman in charge of my estate. Gods know what I’d come back to!

Of... of course, sir.  I’m honored to do this service for you, he lied, forcing himself into a small bow.  Which pleased Jacques immensely. Gods, I fucking hate this.  But sacrifices had to be made if he wanted his revenge.  Patience, he’ll get what’s coming to him soon enough.  

Nessie bolted up in her poor excuse for a bed, groaning as her bracelet vibrated again. Not ready, she thought and dozed back off until it became painful. The bracelet was programmed to shock her if she didn’t get to where it told her to get to within a certain (short) period of time. She glanced down at the stupid thing, wishing she could tear it from her flesh. Unfortunately, a layer of steel covered the electrical wires, making human fingers too weak to snap it. Another jolt got her to drag herself from beneath the thin blanket, sighing as she saw her bracelet flashing Feeding Room One.

Nessie dragged her feet, wincing as her bracelet shocked her again.  She heard her mother fall into step behind her as they entered the room together, and the pain in her wrist finally stopped.  For now.

I hate this room. Nessie scowled at the white furniture and rugs. Even the walls were a pale silvery gray.  It was the dumbest décor decision as far as a feeding room went.  But she didn’t make decisions around here.  Or any decisions for that matter.

Don’t slouch, Vanessa, her mother chided from behind her.

She narrowed her eyes, ready to stick out her tongue until Master entered the room. Lowering her gaze to the floor, the two of them bowed their heads as he passed them. She noticed a second pair of feet cross in front of her vision a few moments after and her stomach cramped. Logan, the younger male who usually fed from her, had wandering hands and a penchant for sinking his teeth to the bone. Vampires were assholes like that.

C’mon, I haven’t got all day! Master bellowed as he lounged on the sofa across the room.

She scrambled over to sit on the cushion next to Logan, her eyes focusing on her fiddling hands in her lap. Any moment now he’d snatch up her wrist and dig his ugly fangs into her vein. Her breaths came unevenly, her heart racing, her body bracing for the coming pain.  

You seem uneasy.  

Her breath hitched.  That wasn’t Logan.  She recognized that voice. It had once been her favorite voice in the whole world.  Her gaze shot up.

It was him. The vampire she had once called friend. Best friend if she was being honest with herself.  Before he disappeared on her, never to be seen or heard from for the last ten years. The one who’d left her here to rot like a forgotten piece of garbage.  Vampires were assholes like that.

It’s alright.  He reached for her hand, which she snatched out of reach without a thought.  

His eyebrows raised in surprise.  

Shit.  Slaves don’t behave like that.  She hesitated for a moment before holding her arm out, staring at him.  His face was exactly as she remembered.  Bright blue eyes under thick brows that matched his perfectly styled black hair. 

He glanced at her offered hand.  Are you sure? he asked, shocking the shit out of her.  She wouldn’t be surprised if her jaw just fell off her face.

Are you daft, boy?  You don’t ask her permission.  She’s a fucking slave, for gods’ sakes!  What did those council members teach you!  Master’s eyes landed on her.  Come here, girl.

The command that made her knees wobble as she crossed the room.  Shit, now she’d done it. She couldn’t just hand over her hand like a good little slave, could she?

As soon as she was within reach, he snatched her arm. She could already feel it bruising beneath his grasp.  He yanked her down onto the unoccupied cushion, his other hand gripping her thigh to hold her in place.  As his fangs jabbed into her wrist, she yelped. Even Logan’s bite had never been that bad. Like someone jabbing a needle into your vein and twisting. She clenched her teeth as Master took long, painful pulls.   Don’t cry.  Tears are weakness.  Thankfully, it didn’t last long.

When Master released her, he shoved her off the couch. There. That’s how it’s done, boy!

Her ass landed on the rug. Son of a bitch! Now, there was a big red mark on the floor.

She turned and glanced at Charlie’s face, a calm, unreadable mask except for the slight ticking in his jaw.  Was he was upset at her ill-treatment or just anxious to get his own taste of her?  Probably the latter.  She clenched her teeth and picked her sorry ass up off the floor.  Might as well get this over with.

The woman glared death at him as she shuffled back across the room.  Charlie wanted to throw an identical look at Jacques, the cruel son of a bitch, but he managed to keep his face neutral.  Jacques had to think he worshiped his every move, took every barbaric lesson to heart, blackening his soul for the chance at vengeance.  But watching his Maker rip into that woman’s arm like a savage made him tense with rage. It took serious effort to keep himself from flying across the room and attempting to separate Jacques’ fangs from his jaw.  Which made no sense. He had witnessed Jacques do far worse over the long years. A nasty bite was child’s play for him. Why such a strong reaction now? After all these years? Was his soul crying out for an end to all the depravity?  

Sinking back down onto the cushion beside him, the woman’s eyes still held a promise of murder.  She did not like him, and it showed. As she closed the distance, her scent wafted towards him.  In a single moment, all thoughts ceased. His mind fogged by the aroma of her sweet-smelling lifeblood. Without thinking, he caressed her hand, lifting it, bringing the taste of paradise closer to his mouth.  Nothing mattered but getting her skin against his lips and her blood inside his body. Nothing else mattered. Not him, not Jacques, not even his revenge. This moment. Only this moment had any meaning for him.

He pressed the tip of his tongue against her open vein.  The first taste was better than he ever thought possible. It had him clutching her wrist as he sank his fangs into her delicate flesh one inch at a time. As her blood slipped past his tongue, his body flushed. Waves of warmth swept through him. The numbness that kept an icy grip on his body shattered as his heart began beating for the first time in almost four hundred years.  He released her wrist on a silent gasp, his eyes snapping open.

As his mind and vision cleared, a deep scowl on her full mouth caught his eye first.  With her blood pumping its way straight to his heart, he gazed into the bright hazel eyes of the child he had so missed over the last ten years.  A gaze that seemed to reach inside him and put a vice-grip on his warming heart.  Recognition slammed into him like a sucker punch to the gut.

Nessie.

Gods, he should have recognized her before.  The pale blonde hair of her childhood was gone, replaced by long, honey-colored waves.  Her complexion darker than he remembered as if she’d been kissed by sunlight.

Before he had time to take in the new woman that had taken the place of the young girl he so fondly remembered, Jacques snapped from across the room, You’ve done your job, girl.  Now get out.

Charlie’s chest tightened at the reminder that Jacques was still in the room. Clenching her jaw, Nessie bowed her head and swiftly moved toward the exit.

Look back, look back at me.

And she did.  With a look that almost froze his heart all over again.

CHAPTER 2

Nessie collapsed into the chair at the small table.  What a night. Being worked like a slave was grueling enough, but to have two bloodsucking fiends at your wrist in one night.  No wonder her legs felt like jelly. Admittedly, the second one had been a tad gentler. Okay, fine. He’d been the gentlest feeding she’d ever experienced.  But he was still a fiend! No matter how gently he used those wretched fangs of his.

And the way he’d looked at her when he was finished...the nerve of that guy!  Vampires were assholes. Period.

Drink your tea, Vanessa. Her mother placed a steaming mug in front of her. Nessie wrinkled her nose at the horrid smell.  Her mother narrowed her dark, brown eyes on her and pointed at the mug. Drink.

Her father walked into the room.  Good morning, my lovely young ladies.  His eyes drooped and the dark bags under them gave away his weariness, but it couldn’t wipe the smile from his face.  

Her mother placed a hand on her hip.  I’m hardly a young lady anymore, Paul.

Skipping over to her, his smile widened.  You’ll always be young in my eyes, my darling Eva, he said, pecking her on the cheek.  She rolled her eyes at him and continued wiping the counters.

Nessie smiled at them.  She always loved seeing them together, even if only for a few minutes. Her father pulled his gaze from her mother to look at her.  Speaking of not being young anymore. He wiggled his eyebrows as he pulled a package from under his shirt.  

Nessie’s face heated.  Dad, you shouldn’t have. Her father was one of the few slaves permitted off the estate to gather supplies like food, clothing, and whatever else the Master told him to buy.  Which meant her gift had most likely not been on that approved list and her father had risked a lot to get it for her. 

Setting the package on the table, he sang a very off-key version of Happy Birthday, his face glowing.  By the second verse, several other slaves crowded the small communal kitchen and joined in.

Eighteen already. I can’t believe it.  You’re soon gonna have grey hair like me, he said, nudging her with his elbow.  

She nudged him back before unfolding the wrapping.  Her heart fluttered as her fingers clutched the new notebook and pen. She usually used old napkins or scraps of paper she found crumpled up in trash cans. Glancing up at him, she found tears pooling in his eyes. I love it, she said, standing to give him a well-deserved hug.

He clutched her back, sniffling.  Well, it was your mother’s idea. She said you’d like that.

Nessie glanced over at her mother, her smile faltering.  Her mother suggested this perfect gift? Surprising. Thanks, Mom, she muttered.

Her mother smiled, taking a step towards Nessie and pulling her into a hug.  You’re welcome, honey.

Nessie patted her back until her mother released her.  Then, she and her father sat back down at the table where she admired her gift.  It felt wonderful as she ran her fingers through the crisp, blank pages waiting to be filled.

Nessie, her father said, making her lift her head.  Drink your tea. He pointed at the untouched mug.  

But, Dad, she whined.

He chuckled. Don’t ‘but, Dad’ me. Drink.

Nessie groaned, grabbing the mug and chugging the nasty liquid down.

Charlie stumbled down the hallway as he struggled to get a handle on the sensations rampaging through him.  What the hell was wrong with him? He felt like a fledgling all over again. Only, instead of struggling with the icy cold breaths and widespread numbness, he felt like he was about to combust at any moment.  Like fire licked through his veins, spreading from his chest outward. Sleep, he thought. He needed to rest after the long journey from the council. His kind couldn’t go more than a few short days without blood and rest, or they’d start deteriorating.  Yes, that was it. Gods, please let that be it. Because the alternative...he didn’t even want to think about.

Charles!

He groaned as a tall, curvy body crashed into him.  He’d completely forgotten. Katherine. The vampire lover he’d left behind ten years ago.  And hadn’t thought about one bit since.

Oh, how I’ve missed you, she purred into his ear.  

Really? She’d missed him? Doubtful.  Their kind rarely felt more than pure lust as far as romance went.  Their arrangement had been about satisfying their needs, nothing more.  Perhaps she’d missed the attentive lover he’d been, but not him.

His skin crawled as her hands clutched him, and he peeled himself from her embrace.   Not now, Kat.

What do you mean ‘not now’? It’s been ten long, lonely years, she moaned, her fingers already gliding under his shirt.  Haven’t you missed me?

Obviously, he’d been spot on about what she really missed.  Though, he doubted she’d gone an entire decade without finding another to