Blood Inheritance (The Lazarus Hunter Series Book 1) Read online

  'Well, I'm just glad you're not too stubborn to listen.'

  'I'll tell you one thing though. I'm right about Elizabeth Hastings. You may think I've been quick to trust her, but something in my gut tells me it's the right thing to do. Like the way you feel when you need to feed and it just feels right.'

  'Well, in that case, make sure you stay away from her tonight. We don't need any added complications.'

  'Trust me, I have no intention of making this any harder than it needs to be.'

  16

  Monica made her way out into the main room of the club, aware that everyone would know the moment she walked in. She hated that and, even though she would never admit it to anyone out loud, it creeped her out a little. Her gut reaction was to put her head down and scurry out of the room, but she knew that was not the behaviour of a leader. So instead she held her head high, made eye contact with those people she needed to, and left the building at a steady pace.

  It wasn't until she was in a cab that she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. It had been a long time since she had felt the need to hunt on the spur of the moment. Normally, she thought about it beforehand, decided where she was going to go and what she wanted to find when she got there. With Monica, it was usually less of a hunt, and more the execution of a carefully constructed plan.

  She told the cab driver to pull over, and handed him a couple of bills to cover the fare. As he pulled away, she stood in the street light and looked down at what she was wearing. She looked every inch the powerful business woman that she was, and power was attractive enough to some people, regardless of the setting.

  The people she used for blood were willing to be exploited to some degree. It was another one of those things that maintained the balance of power. If all of human society could be bent to the very whim of every vampire, then there would be no real battle. Even the constraints of darkness would not have been enough to stop them becoming the superior race. Despite her attempts at being cool and in control, there was still a base instinct within her that associated feeding with the thrill of the chase. It was something she could never escape from and sometimes, quite frankly, she got sick of feeling like she was the only one trying.

  She passed by the first three venues she came too, instinct as well as her current state of dress telling her that they were not the right place.

  For some reason, the fourth building reminded her a little bit of her own club and that was enough for her to give it a try. There was a line outside, but she didn't even think twice about standing in it and waiting. She walked to the front, knowing she was oozing power, ignoring the tutting sounds of the women already waiting.

  She smiled at the man on the door, glad she had caught him alone. It was always so much harder when you had to focus on two people at the same time. It only took a bit of resistance from one of them and you lost both of them. Instead, she gave him her most dazzling smile, took a deep breath as if to speak, and looked deep into his eyes, letting her own pull him in. Monica did not know how she did it. It was just something she had just been born with, a part of their nature. Not that she used it very often, but she was glad when it worked. It simply would not do to have the leader of one of the world's most powerful vampire families unable to lull a doorman into submission. She would have been a laughing stock with the elders, not to mention the people in the line, if he turned her away.

  It was clear he was completely taken in by her, his body leaning slightly forwards as if physically pulled towards her. She indicated at the door and he simply nodded and pulled it open for her. She heard the entire line give a simultaneous groan of complaint when she walked in, but didn't turn around. The hunger was rising in her with alarming rapidity, and she needed to get this over with as soon as possible.

  Once inside she checked her coat, not really caring if she ended up leaving it behind. She glanced around the room once, but after a quick sweep there was no one who attracted her attention. The men were all staring at their phones and the women were already engaged in conversations. Monica made her way to the bar, catching the bartender's eye, and his smile told her that she wouldn't have to use any special powers to get her drink straight away.

  He finished with the guy he was serving and came over to her. Not for the first time tonight, Monica found herself the object of the annoyed stares. They obviously thought the barman was hot and were hoping to ask him for more than just a couple of drinks.

  Monica guessed he was used to seeing girls like that all the time, and they would be nothing special for him. She ordered a large vodka tonic and was pleased when it was served with a flourish. Tempting as the man may be, she knew he would be stuck behind the bar for another few hours and she couldn't wait that long. It was both confusing and fun, the way that this blood lust was rising up within her, with such speed and intensity she wondered if this was what the others felt like all the time. Was this why they gave into it so quickly and easily, when she held herself back for as long as she could?

  Turning away from the barman she found herself staring straight into the chest of a man who appeared intent on getting up close to her. He smiled ruefully and pointed at her vodka. 'I was going to offer to buy you a drink, but you appear to have it covered.'

  'Well, if I'd known you were going to come over, then maybe I would have waited,' she smiled, taking a sip and looking at him. Yes, he would do nicely. Clearly interested, his eyes sharp and intelligent, with a hint of someone who was used to getting their own way. That could be a problem. The more independent they were, the harder they were to pull in. Tonight she was up for the challenge. 'Maybe you could join me for a drink even though you don't have to buy me one?'

  'I'd love to,' he sat next to her and signalled at the barman, who began to prepare a drink. So, thought Monica, he was a regular here. Regular and important enough for the bar man to know what his order was. It made things a little more complicated, but she had never come here before and there was every chance that she would never come here again after tonight. The man smiled as the drink was placed in front of him, and she took another drink of hers. His smelled strong, like there was more than a hefty dash of alcohol in it and she smiled to herself. If he had a few drinks then he would be much more pliant, irrespective of how independent he was.

  Perhaps, and she really hoped it would be the case, this would turn out to be easy after all.

  17

  There were some days when Elverez firmly believed he was getting too old for all this. He knew that with his permanently weakened body he was lucky to have lasted this long, but the strain was really starting to take its toll.

  The past day had been draining, knowing better than Monica did what a battle the young woman was to face. He had seen what her predecessor had gone through, even though it had been kept hidden from the rest of the family. But Elverez had been the one living with him, the one he had taken care of. The one he had been able to share the burden with. People had accepted it with complete grace when he was chosen. Unlike Monica, there was never any question of a challenge to his authority. He was already a man of great standing within the family and there was no question about his lineage or suitability for the job.

  Elverez personally thought that Monica was a fine selection for the position. He knew that it was wise to have faith in destiny and what it decides. Besides, Monica was young blood, and that could be just what they needed to secure their continued ability to thrive. They may be the most powerful family, but they were also the most responsible. If they fell from grace, he had no doubt that turmoil would ensue.

  He was surprised he had been able to hold in his sigh of relief when Ivan Mendelson was passed over by the ring. The man had clearly believed he was the strongest candidate, his personal bloodline strong and distinguished with the family, his rank one of the highest. Elverez had seen enough of the world to know that the man was the very worst thing that the family could have as a leader. He was strong, but he enjoyed his power on a personal level far too much,
and that meant he would never put them all before himself.

  Monica had never really been a contender. She was just another vampire in the family, so no one had really scrutinised her in the lead up to being chosen. Other candidates from the first round, and then the second round, had been looked at, but when the general rank and file had been ordered to line up there had been neither the time nor the manpower to look into all of them.

  The moment that she was chosen Ivan had ordered a full background check on her. He did not outright state that the ring had chosen incorrectly, but the speed with which he moved made it obvious to Elverez, who had been watching him, silent and unthreatening from the wheelchair in the corner.

  If it came to it, Elverez would show his true self, if it meant that Monica remained protected and the family would remain safe. His mentor had taught him all the things he needed to survive, even without the use of his legs. There were other things that made you strong and he knew with a quiet confidence that he could rid the world of Ivan if he had to. He just hoped that it never came to that.

  Unfortunately, Monica's full background history had not been quite as favourable as he would have hoped, even though he had not been privy to the full details. It appeared that at some point in her ancestry, the waters had been muddied slightly. Whether it was with a different vampire family, or whether it was with — even worse — human blood, he did not know. It was bad news for Monica in terms of how she was viewed by the elite. Elverez though, thought it might be the best possible thing.

  Firstly, it was nothing if not rare. Genetics played a part, although this was only becoming clear as human advances were being made. Several vampires had gone into that line of business and they had wasted no time in making sure that they did their own private research. At long last they were able to prove what had long been suspected. Nature conspired to ensure that the bloodlines were not polluted and mutations did not occur. Yet sometimes they did, and when that happened, it tended to go horribly wrong. That the child in Monica's genealogical past had not died at birth indicated it was a wonder. Yet to these highly educated vampires, who considered themselves as being so different to the humans they could not bring into line, race lay underneath the skin like an angry boil just waiting to erupt.

  Elverez hoped that whatever they saw as such a major negative in Monica would actually work out in her favour. He had noticed, and he could not be the only one to do so, that her strength in daylight was highly unusual. He had always known that it would increase once she had the ring, but it was clearly there within her already, a tolerance which gave her a strength in their biggest area of weakness. It was a big enough advantage that one day it might save her life.

  He was an old man after all, and if she could save herself then it would mean he wouldn't have to.

  18

  Monica had been relieved when the man suggested they go back to his place rather than hers. She preferred not to take people back to her apartment. It was too memorable, too dangerously exposed. She had willingly gone along with him, no doubt re-enforcing the belief he was onto a sure thing. Now she was here, and it was proving to be a little bit harder than she had anticipated. The man, she had a vague recollection of him saying his name was Connor, seemed to be more self–assured on his own turf, just when she had been lulling him into what she had hoped was a false sense of security.

  She had noticed the change in him as they had sat in the cab back to his place, their thighs touching, him making all the right noises. They were the words of a man who was filled with certainty, and he had a confidence she could almost touch. If it wasn't for the fact he didn't at all feel like one, she would have thought he was a vampire. Maybe not of her own family — she shuddered at the thought of them all belonging to her — but a vampire nonetheless. Yet everything else about him told her he was completely human.

  He had opened the door to his apartment with a flourish of his hand, inviting her in. She smiled as he poured her a drink, trying to listen to what he was saying but not trusting herself to speak. The throb of need was pounding so strong in her head that it was making his voice fuzzy and all she could do was look at his neck and the promise that it held. It had been so long since she had felt the need in her rise this strongly, and at some point in the evening she had stopped questioning what was so different about this night and decided to just go with it.

  Slowly, deliberately, she drank her glass of wine, hardly feeling it touch the sides of her throat, as she discretely ran her tongue over her teeth. It was too soon, yet she could feel the sharpness descending. Holding it back was painful and there was going to be a moment soon where they would come forward with such force she would be unable to stop them.

  She swallowed the need back down, using almost all of her willpower to do so. When she was quite certain she had her teeth and her hunger under control, she turned back to him and forced a smile.

  It was quite clear that she was here for one thing, and he was quite happy to use her for the duration of the evening and would probably just as easily throw her away tomorrow morning. Little did he know that by then she would be long gone, leaving him with the feeling of too much to drink the previous evening, and a slight soreness where he had been bitten. Most of the time it was easy to blame that on the drink too, as if it explained everything. Even so, the neck was the least discrete of places, even if it was one of the most intimate.

  She walked over to him, slowly, almost predatory, and she saw the spark sexual arousal in his eyes. As she slid her arms around his neck, she moved her lips closer to his, and there was no need to do anything out of the ordinary to make him lean into her.

  As he slid his tongue into her mouth she felt the pulse of desire slide through her, and yet she knew that it was nothing that he could offer her in terms of sex. That was not what she wanted him for. She needed something so much more than that. Something that was almost primeval and for the first time in her life she felt like she was embracing it. She could feel the change within her, and she liked all of it. It was everything that she had been searching for, and the fact that it had come to her now had ceased to trouble her in the slightest.

  She would probably sleep with him, but it was little more than a pleasant aside and a cover for herself in the morning. Men were much more likely to be less suspicious if they thought they had got laid in the process.

  She felt his body tense up, and as she slid her tongue between is lips and over his teeth she knew that she had finally got him. That self-confidence she thought could be her downfall tonight slipped away in that instant and he was putty in the palm of her hand. He groaned as her hand slipped down over his chest, instinct telling her that she was pushing all the right buttons and there would be very little else that she needed to do.

  This was it: this was the thrill of the hunt that she had been suppressing all of these years.

  She pulled back and, in the soft lighting he had carefully chosen to create the perfect atmosphere for bringing women back to, she looked deep into his eyes. Somewhere inside her, a beast stirred, one she felt like she had been keeping captive for her entire lifetime. She felt his initial gasp, and some instinct forced him to try and pull away from her, not realising that he was stuck in her iron grip. There was no way that he would be able to break free from her now, no matter how much he wanted to. She had him, and he would submit to her. Accept the fact that she was enthralling him or face his own certain death. Her teeth had slipped out and there was no way of hiding now what she truly was.

  There was fear in his eyes. There was no denying it and it thrilled her to the core. She may hate herself tomorrow, but for tonight this was all hers.

  She looked at him, her eyes almost seeing into his soul as she willed him to give into her, to stop fighting her, just to go with the promise that she held. It really was a promise; he would be well compensated for the blood that he gave. Through the fuzzy memories of tomorrow would be the certainty he had been on the receiving end of a very good time. Her eyes deep
ened and darkened, and then she felt it, the moment when the tension began to seep out of his body, and his will was no longer his own, but something that belonged to her alone.

  As the kiss between them intensified, she felt the passion within him rise again at the same time that the hunger within her gained momentum.

  She pulled away from him and took his hand, pulling him forwards until his feet found themselves and he moved passed her, leading her to the bedroom.

  By the time he kicked the bedroom door closed behind them, she was already unbuttoning his shirt and it didn't take long for it to fall on the floor. The rest of his clothing followed. Her teeth ached with the need to find flesh as his hands slid over her body, and she knew she had picked up a very experienced man. She could not trust him, and there was a faint disgust that she would probably feel in the morning when the adrenalin wore off and she would be left alone with the horror that was this evening.

  Even as she pulled him on top of her, she knew that there would be a hell of a lot of self-analysis going on tomorrow.

  Then there was that moment, just as he entered her, which was the point of oblivion. The point when the part of her that she had somehow always identified as human got lost, and the darkness in her took over. She was everything in that moment, and at the same time she knew that she was nothing at all. In the grand scheme of things, she was completely lost within her place in the universe.

  She was faintly aware of Connor moving on top of her, as she ran her tongue along his neck, the vein in it enlarged and throbbing with the intensity of his efforts. He thought everything he was doing now was doing for her, but the only thing she really cared about at that moment in time was the hot line of blood that was right in front of her. It was the thing that would satisfy her hunger, bring her to completion in a way that nothing else he could do for her would.