I can’t lose her.

  She’s my whole world, and I love her, more than I should when all us humans are slated to become food for the vampires at some point in our lives, or so we are constantly reminded. The very idea sends chills down my spine. I’ve seen what they do to the other unfortunate occupants of low zone that catch their attention, and I want nothing to do with it. It’s why I bundle up in sweat-drenched clothes even in the summer months when heatstroke becomes a very real possibility.

  Eva bundles up in soiled rags too when she heads out, thank the gods. We go as far as to steal clothes from the dead so the smell of decay soaks into the garments we wear. The stench is enough to deter the vampires, but this method won’t be foolproof forever. At some point a blood-drinker will overlook the horrid stench of rotting human and drain us dry. We’ve been lucky enough to avoid their attention for all these years, but it’s only a matter of time before we’re attacked. This oppression needs to end before that happens.

  I rummage through the food chest and pull out an expired can of peaches to choke down. It’s not nearly enough to sate my hunger, but it's better than nothing. When the world fell to shit, the walls were built to keep the ferals out, cutting off our food supply too. We have a few farms left in the dome, but they’re all regulated by the vamps’ high zone, leaving those in the low zone completely without. Only those in mid zone get a taste of relatively fresh produce, and that’s only when the high zone vampires pick through the selections first.

  The kicker is they don’t even need the food; it’s just another way to control us humans. Mid zone gets all the bruised and nearly spoiled goods, and low zone gets nothing. We’re left to trade amongst ourselves, and it’s a wonder we’re all not dead.

  The bastards have built themselves the perfect life while the rest of us suffer. But unlike Eva, I don’t hate them for it. They are doing what they need to in order to survive, just like the rest of us. The vampires are simply blessed with superior bodies and abilities, and that entitles them to the cream of the crop.

  What I can’t forgive them for is the heartless hunts they embark upon in the low zone. They kill low zone residents for sport, as if our lives aren’t hard enough as it is.

  Before I know it, the sun is setting and Eva still isn’t home. She should have been back long before now, and that sinking feeling in my gut has become impossible to ignore. Something tells me she’s in trouble, and the only reason I’ve let it go on this long is because her meetings with the rebels are unpredictable.

  But she did say that another faction entered mid zone last night, and it didn’t go as planned. It’s not unusual for the rebels to fail, and when they do, they lie low for a few days until things cool down. She shouldn’t have been called in so soon, and that's alarming in and of itself.

  It's times like this where I don’t know what to do.

  Making a hasty decision, I put my cap on and shrug into my smelly outer clothes until my slim form is perfectly hidden. Slipping out the door, I lock it behind me and rush down the crumbling stairs of the apartment complex, then into the alleyway running behind the building. The setting sun is blocked completely by the towering complex, shrouding the alleyway in inky blackness. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, not that I stop to let it happen. Instead I keep running, hand scaping the wall to guide my progress until I can better make out the shapes before me.

  I’m heading left toward the market, body prickling with a strange sort of awareness, causing me to freeze. I feel as if I’m suddenly not alone, and I shiver, knowing better than to discount that creeping sensation out here. There’s an odd charge to the air that I can’t explain, and it’s making me nervous.

  Something isn’t right.

  There.

  A footstep taps behind me, and I whip around to face the oncoming threat. My cap is slung low over my eyes, inhibiting my vision, but that means whoever’s in this alley with me can’t see much of my face either.

  Clean combat boots appear out of the darkness, followed by an even cleaner pair of jeans, stopping a mere ten feet away.

  Too close.

  And those clothes tell me all I need to know.

  Fuck.

  Without thinking, I lift my head and peer into the vampire’s face. My brain blanks the moment I take in his chiseled jaw, tousled brown hair, and vibrant green eyes. I inhale sharply, consuming the rotten stench of the alley. Underneath that odor, though, is a deliciously spicy fragrance I can’t name. It’s alluring, and I want more.

  The damned blood-drinkers know what their looks and their scents do to us humans. They are perfect specimens designed to entice their prey into a false sense of security. Their scents are just as alluring as their faces, and damn if it doesn’t make my head spin.

  I shake my head and take a step back as if that will help. Nothing will help me now if this vamp decides to feast on me. Just hearing the male’s deep inhale has panic surging within me and that same feeling of dread rising. I’m shaking, but I can’t help it; I’m terrified.

  Vampires hardly ever come this far into the low zone.

  I take in another sharp breath and immediately regret it. Bad idea. Horrible fucking idea.

  His scent is stronger than before, that spicy note invading my senses. My cock twitches to life inside my baggy pants, and I mentally curse myself, and it for rising to attention.

  I peer up at the vampire from under my cap, and his animalistic head tilt and feral grin tell me I’m screwed. Quick as a whip, he closes the gap between us and grasps my upper arm. No matter how much I tug and pull, his grip doesn’t give. I’m not going anywhere until he’s ready to let me go. And with all I know about these fanged creatures, it won’t end until I’m either being sucked dry, or turned.

  Neither option sounds appealing.

  “Well, well, well…” The male’s voice is deep and menacing. “What do we have here? A little human shaking like an itty-bitty rabbit, all by himself.”

  Faster than I can react, his other hand darts out and yanks my hood down until my neck is bared.

  Fuck!

  4

  Madden

  This human is pretty enough, even if he does reek of the trash-strewn alley we're standing in. Pretty doesn't matter, though, and neither does the smell, if I'm being honest. It's the taste I'm interested in, and if he's not worthy of being a meal, then I’ll kill him—simple as that. No one will miss a street rat.

  My teeth pierce his tender neck with no trouble, and I suck down what might as well be the nectar of the gods, given how good it tastes. I groan and suck harder, my cock swelling in my cargo pants. My mind blanks, and everything around me disappears, save for the taste of the mortal’s blood. His pitiful struggling and awful stench fade, and I ache to stick my dick in all the hot, wet parts of him while I drink.

  I already know I'm going to drain this one dry; it's unavoidable. But that's not to say I can't keep him around as my personal buffet.

  Before I lose myself completely and fall into a frenzy, I reluctantly peel my teeth from his skin and tear into my wrist instead. I wait until my mouth fills with my precious and expensive blood before harshly ripping the mortal’s head upright from where it had fallen against my shoulder. I force my mouth against his and pry it open, my fingers pressed tight against the outside of his jaw.

  The moment this mouth opens, I invade it and force my blood down his fucking throat. Once he swallows, I tear my mouth free and turn him until his back is to my chest. I walk us to the wall and press him there with my weight before I rip his ragged pants right down to his knees. With my wrist already healed, it takes me a moment to reopen the wound and gather more blood in my mouth, though this time it's going into his ass.

  Vampires’ blood mixed with our venom creates quite a toxic, but pleasure-inducing serum that works wonders as lube. It'll ease my way into his ass and keep him from thrashing and screaming with pain. I'm not into all that nonsense, though a lot of my kind crave the sadism. I do too, but the agonized shrieks make me soft. I’d rather hurt them in other ways, ways I plan to explore with this little pet of mine as soon as we get home.

  Fuck. My cock jumps at the thought of tying him up in my chamber.

  I spit some of the special bloody lube onto his ass, spreading his cheeks so it slides right into his crack and across the puckered hole I'm about to claim. I spit the rest onto my cock and let go of one cheek to grip my dick and slide the blood all over, coating myself thoroughly.

  Without hesitation, I line myself up and press in. His hole resists, but my brute force clears the way as I tear inside. The mortal grunts and jerks, but otherwise doesn't react. That will change as soon as the blood I'm working inside his asshole takes effect.

  I shove hard, pushing through the resistance until I'm seated to my base. His warm hole is so damn tight, the blood only making his insides hotter, and I'm fucking wound up. With the hand I used to lube up my cock, I tilt the mortal's head to the side so I have perfect access to the throbbing vein calling my name.

  Sinking my teeth in, I drink him down as I pull back out to my tip. Then I thrust harshly, my pelvis slamming against his ass, and I lose myself to the frenzy at last.

  5

  West

  I come to with a groan, everything aching horribly. Something sits at the edge of my subconscious and I struggle to remember what has me panicking. There’s a smell to the air and it’s alluring, familiar, yet strange all at once.

  What the hell is happening?

  Eva. Where is Eva?

  I was on my way to find her, I think. She never came home, and then something happened when I went to find her. I can’t remember what. How did I end up here—wherever here is?

  The room is dark and small; too small, like a closet. There’s a faint glow from under a door, casting a minuscule amount of light to see by. It’s just me and a dingy mattress on the floor. It’s eerily quiet in here too, and I hate it. I hate the absolute silence. The low zone is never quiet, even in the middle of the night or behind our apartment walls. There’s always something.

  I only know of one place that's silent, and fear unlike anything I’ve ever felt radiates through me and makes my gut churn.

  High zone. Where the vampires live. That's the only quiet zone.

  All the awful feedings and killings happen in low zone, and on occasion, the mid zone. All the screaming and crying happens everywhere but where the vampires live, because they have a stupid rule about not playing with their food where they sleep.

  Or at least that’s what the rumors say. Who the hell knows why they really do what they do?

  The door slams open so suddenly I jump and force myself upright, even though it hurts. Everything hurts. Why does it hurt?

  “Who’s Eva, pet?” the dark, massive form standing in the doorway asks with barely restrained menace. The light from behind the figure distorts him, making it hard to discern any of his features. I only know it's a male because of his voice and the sheer size of him.

  A sudden whiff of the alluring scent that lingers in this closet tells me it’s a vampire standing menacingly over me right now, and I'm terrified.

  “Who. Is. Eva. Pet?” the vampire bites out. “Don’t make me ask again. You won't like the consequences if I do.”

  “Someone I used to know,” I whisper in a desperate attempt to save my love. I don't know how he knows of her, but I refuse to give him what he seeks. I refuse to help him find her.

  He tuts at me and crouches, getting in my face. The shadows concealing his features only add to the terror coursing through my veins, and I can feel my heart nearly leaping out my chest as it pounds a fast beat.

  “Now, now, pet. Don’t lie to me. I'm being very pleasant right now—don't force my hand here. You’re my thrall, pet. Thralls can't lie. Try again.”

  Teeth gritted, words spill from my lips unbidden, “My lover.”

  “See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?”

  My mouth just opened without my permission, like I was forced, compelled. His words sink in, and for a moment, everything is silent—the world, my thoughts, my heart, everything.

  I’m a thrall. I’m a vampire's thrall, and what my vampire lord commands, I must follow, even if I hate it, no matter what he asks.

  My fear somehow seems to triple, a feat I didn’t think possible.

  No. No, this can't be happening. It can't. This isn't real.

  “I'll help you out and bring her to you, pet, as a reward for feeding me so well. Would you like that?”

  My panic rises the more he speaks. “No.”

  “No? You don’t like my reward?”

  I shake my head frantically despite knowing it’s the wrong answer, but I'll do anything to protect Eva, even if it leads to my suffering and eventual death. I’d do anything for her. Anything.

  “That's a shame, pet. What a shame.” He tuts like I’ve truly disappointed him, only the effect is ruined by how nonplussed he sounds, like he expected this. Yet his tone is menacing. “I suppose you deserve punishment for not wanting my reward, then. And to think, your reward will now become your punishment.”

  I can hear the laughter in his voice despite the shadows still concealing his features. It’s haunting. I hate it. I hate all of this.

  My panic only grows and I frantically beg. “Please. Please, leave her alone. I'll do whatever you want. Please. Please, just leave her alone. Please!”

  I’m crying now; I can’t help it.

  “Well, you'll do what I want regardless.” He chuckles like it’s all fun and games, when in reality, my world is crashing down around me. “Thralls don't get choices, least of all my thralls. See, I have a reputation to uphold. So while I go and fetch your punishment, be a good boy and stay.”

  My limbs lock in place instantly, and I cry out, “Plea—”

  “Quiet,” he barks, leaning closer, his breath ghosting across my face. “I want complete silence.”

  I sob, his command stilling both my limbs and my voice as he stands up and leaves. The door slams behind him, and I’m once again encased in darkness, alone with my despairing thoughts as I will myself to just breathe.

  What have I done? Eva. Oh, Eva, I’m so sorry.

  6

  Madden

  This Eva my little thrall was mumbling about in his sleep was never going to be his reward. I know how mortals feel about our kind, and I revel in their pain and mental anguish. I knew my thrall would turn down my “reward” to save his little love, and I was more than eager to destroy his hope that I’d leave her alone.

  I contemplated hunting her down while he was sleeping, but I knew it would spoil the surprise. There’s nothing like forcing an answer out of humans when they’re so unwilling to give me what I seek. The sheer helplessness and misery in their gazes gets me hard, and I wanted it to all be a surprise for me too.

  There’s no telling if his Eva is even still alive, but it takes no time at all for me to get to the low zone and the alley I found my new thrall in. I trace his scent back as best as I can through the trash-strewn shithole and into a rundown apartment complex. The door is easy enough to break down, and the small living room is saturated in my thrall’s scent, along with a lighter, sweeter fragrance that’s all female.

  Once I’m sure I’ve got it memorized, I start the hunt and manage to trace her to the posts where we hang rebel traitors. There’s someone tied up now, their body coated in blood and so bruised I can’t make any features out.

  The scent tells me I’ve found little Eva, and I stifle an irritated growl at having such a pathetic hunt. I wanted it to last longer, to drag on and really get my blood pumping. I’m not sated, and it’s a pity she’s already strung up, unable to flee like I love to watch humans do. Even if I were to set her loose, she’s not going anywhere.

  I climb the steps up to the stage, and I’m not surprised when no one stops me. There are at least three vampires guarding this place in the shadows at all times, waiting for the rebels or desperate family members to grow brave enough to try to free whoever we have strung up. It used to happen frequently in the beginning, but after our vicious retaliation and tricks, eventually all the humans stopped trying.

  It's disappointing, and I know the vampires assigned to the square get so bored when there are no fresh rebels to beat into submission. From the looks of it, they really went to town on this female. If not for the faint beating of her heart, I’d think she was dead.

  For a moment, I consider bringing my new thrall out and showing him what his lover looks like all strung up like this so that it really hits home just how bleak his future is, but she won’t make it that long. It’s a miracle she’s still alive, and I’m not going to have any success turning her into a thrall. She’ll die and turn to a fledgling, something I don’t want to happen.

  I’ve gone this long without siring a vampire, and I want to keep it that way. It’s a lot of work managing young vamps, and I don’t want the responsibility. But if I just leave this one be, she’ll die, and all my plans for my new thrall will die with her.

  I know I’ll have no trouble finding new ways to torture him, but it’s such a waste. Besides, she’s a rebel. It would be some wonderful poetic justice now, wouldn't it? I know Father will demand I hand her over the instant he gets wind of me collecting her from the hanging posts, so I’ll need to act quick. I wouldn’t be surprised if word has already reached him.

  Standing before the bloodied female, I study her carefully. She doesn’t stir, and again, that faint heartbeat fluttering weakly in her chest is the only indication that she’s still alive. The guards certainly tried their best to end her, and if I leave her be, she’ll no doubt be dead within the hour.

  There’s no avoiding her fate now. She’ll die one way or another, but she has a chance to come back as my fledgling, a fate I know she’ll hate. A fate I know my thrall will equally hate for her too.

 

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