The Next Vampire King: Protector Thriller Romance, page 1
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The Next Vampire King
Protector Thriller Romance
By: Nikki Grey
Table of Contents
Foreword
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
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Come Stalk Me!
Foreword
Have you ever wondered how many secrets can a small town have?
As it turns out, as many as there are people in it. They all know my secret. They all know it, and they live their lives as if nothing happened, especially the vampire king and his family. They laugh, they love, they live… what about me?
A trail of mysterious letters draws the vampire prince out and leads him to me. A vampire and a shifter. Who would have thought?
I have always been my own protector. Life taught me to never trust anyone. My own obligation to my family, leads me along a dangerous path of forbidden love, where the impossible looms over me like a dagger about to strike: do enemies ever truly become lovers?
The Next Vampire King
Chapter One
Orien (20 years later from the end of Losing The Vampire King)
I read the letter again, thinking I must have misread something. I must have. It just doesn’t make any sense.
My vision gets a little blurry, as the text materializes before me again, like morning mist after darkness. Only this morning doesn’t bring the much yearned for daybreak. It only brings more confusion, more mystery. The text is incomprehensible, not in words, but rather in its meaning.
You have enjoyed your life long enough. It is time for you to pay what you owe.
I frown. Pay what I owe? What is it that I owe?
I hesitate for a moment. Is the letter even for me?
A million questions start swarming inside my mind angrily pricking me for not knowing the deeper meaning behind these cryptic words. Someone is obviously mad. Furious even. Why else would you take the time to write a threatening letter and send it?
My brows knit in confusion. I wonder if the letter is even meant for me.
I turn it around, in search of some clues. Nothing. No recipient’s name, not on the letter itself, not on the envelope. Just a typewritten message. It wasn’t even handwritten. So, someone took great efforts to make sure the message is received, without revealing the sender.
I’m guessing that it was simply slipped into my mailbox, without a stamp, without a sender, without anything that might point me in the direction where it came from. That means that someone walked the distance to my home, to deliver it by hand. That shows commitment. That also means that the message must be extremely important, at least to the sender.
I inhale deeply, wondering if it might be just a prank done by one of the town kids. That’d be the first, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.
I walk over to the door, opening it, half-expecting to see a stranger standing in front of it, who would immediately explain what the meaning behind this mysterious letter is. But there is no one there. Just a quick, refreshing gush of wind, reminding me that I’m looking at the same town that I’ve always lived in, with the same people who have surrounded me my entire life.
I close the door, and the moment I’m about to throw the letter in the trash, hopefully forgetting all about it, there’s a knock on the door. My heart lurches inside my chest. I turn around and open it, once again, half-expecting a stranger to reveal the hidden meaning of the letter, but it’s only my mother.
“Oh.” The words escape me, before I can bite them back.
“Is that how you greet your mother?” she frowns, but there is no offense in her words.
“Sorry, I thought you were– “ I say, stopping mid-sentence.
If I tell her about the letter, she will freak out. Not only that, but she will tell dad, which is even worse. The two of them have always been overprotective of me and my younger sister, Rose. I felt like we’ve always lived under a glass dome, where they watched over us like two hawks. It was mostly good, but sometimes, I feel like I miss that part of my life where I make my own mistakes and I’m forced to fix them on my own, instead of being prevented from making them in the first place.
“I was who?” she asks, interrupting my train of thought.
She walks past me, looking around the house. Her once blonde hair has now turned to streaks of ash, merged with leftover blonde, giving her a royal look. To me, she’s always looked like a queen, unlike dad, who always resembled a warrior, and not really a king. But I guess that’s what a vampire king should be, a warrior.
“Rose,” I tell her the first name that comes to mind. “She said she’ll be dropping by today.”
She turns to look at me, and something tells me she doesn’t believe me. Mother’s intuition is a helluva thing, inexplicable to everyone but mother’s. Her eyes look downward, in the direction of my hand, which is still holding the letter.
“What’s that?” she wonders curiously, taking a step closer.
“Oh, this?” I glance down at my hand, instead of lifting it towards her. “Nothing.”
“Is it a love letter?” she teases, with a chuckle.
“I wish,” I laugh, realizing that instead of extinguishing her curiosity, I only inflamed it even more. “Just umm… a note.”
“A note?” she repeats, drawing me in more and more, and I fear that by the end of this conversation, I’ll be forced to hand her the letter and all Hell will break lose. Knowing her and dad, she’ll force me to move back in with them, until they find out who sent this letter. That is the last thing I want to do. I only managed to convince them that I’m capable of living on my own and taking care of myself. Going back to their home would be a step back.
“Well, if you must know,” I say, raking the fingers of my other hand through my hair, “Leo left it for me, and a few others. There is a… party, in the old abandoned factory.”
Her eyes widened instantly. It’s the first thing I was able to think of. I know she doesn’t like that idea, but she would like the letter even less. I have to keep it safe from her and deal with it on my own.
“When?” she asks brusquely, her blue eyes demanding the truth of me.
“I can’t tell you that,” I say as I’m looking away. “The point of the note was to keep the whole thing a secret from everyone who’s not invited.”
“And what are you going to do there?” she asks, pretending that she hasn’t heard my previous reply.
“Drink alcohol and do drugs,” I tell her as seriously as I can, watching her reaction.
“Oh, ha-ha, very funny,” she says, tilting her head a little, so that a loose strand of hair falls over her cheek. She still has her youthful looks, which is strange because she seems to fret over anything, at least when it comes to Rose and myself. Maybe it’s just the usual state of every mother and they can’t help it.
Yet another reason to keep the letter a secret from her. I crumple it in my hand and instinctively hide it behind my back, as if this will make her forget all about it.
“Well, you asked,” I laugh, turning around and putting the note in my pocket.
Out of sight, out of mind, I remind myself.
“Do you want a coffee?” I offer, trying to steer the conversation to a different direction.
“So, you don’t want to tell me anything about this party?” she asks.
“No,” I chuckle. “It’s not the first and definitely won’t be the last one anyway.”
At least, this was the truth. I hate lying. I’m not very good at it, and always think that everyone can immediately tell when I’m lying. Maybe that’s a mother’s secret power, to know when her child is trying to hide something.
She seems to think of something suddenly. “Is Rose going?”
I see that I’ll have to deepen this lie. In that case, I shouldn’t involve Rose in it.
“No,” I assure her. “She isn’t invited.”
“I see,” she replies, but again, she isn’t satisfied. A part of her is relieved that Rose won’t be attending an unsupervised party, but another part of herself fears that her child is being left out by others.
“I could get her in, if you– “
“No!” she cuts me off, as I knew she would.
I chuckle again, glad that I managed to obtain my goal, which is shifting focus from that mysterious letter.
She follows me and takes a seat in her usual place at the kitchen table. I look over at her, unexpectedly washed over by a feeling of tenderness for a mother whose main preoccupation in life is to worry about her children.
“Yes, please,” she replies, with a smile.
“But, you didn’t tell me why you’ve come,” I suddenly remember, teasing.
“What?” She’s the one to shrug this time, a smile still flickering in the corner of her lips. “A mother can’t visit her son, just because she misses him?”
I laugh. “Of course, she can. Mothers can do anything.”
“Well, that is the reason,” she replies.
I proceed to make us both a cup of coffee and we enjoy a pleasant chit chat for the next hour or so. As soon as I close the door after her, my hand dives into my pocket, extracting the letter. The old saying, out of sight, out of mind might have worked for my mother, but not for me.
I read the letter again, but even after having read it three times, the message still doesn’t make any sense. The only plausible explanation is that it’s a joke. I mean, it has to be. I haven’t done anything to anyone… that I know of. I’m consoling myself with the fact that if I had done something worthy of a threatening letter, I’d know it.
Wouldn’t I?
Chapter Two
Alyssa
Trying to find someone you’ve never seen before is the most difficult thing in the world.
This is what I’m thinking about, as I’m wandering through the woods, yet another place that I’ve only recently come to discover. Everything here is new, but more importantly, everything here is on the opposite side to the one I’m standing on. That is why I need to be careful. I need to tread on the side of caution. Otherwise, horrible things could happen to me, just like they happened to–
At that moment, I hear the sound of a branch cracking, and I instantly know I’m not alone.
My heart is beating in my throat, almost like an invisible hand, grabbing me with its talons, making it increasingly hard to breathe.
I crouch behind the nearest tree, waiting to see who’s making that noise. I know it could be just another animal. But at the same time, it could be someone who might help me with my mission.
I immediately see it’s a silhouette of a man. It is unmistakably muscular and tall. I immediately wonder if it’s him, just like I’ve been wondering all this time. But… what are the odds of me stumbling onto him like this, so unexpectedly?
I peer from behind the tree, watching him pace about the clearing. He looks nervous. He keeps raking his fingers through his hair, as the moonlight flickers all around him. He looks unearthly almost, as if he doesn’t belong here, as if he’s lost and can’t find his way back.
I can’t see his face clearly yet. I lean forward, trying to take a closer look, but he’s too far away. At that moment, a branch cracks underneath the weight of my body. He instantly turns towards me, but I’m not sure if he can see me yet.
“Who’s there?” he asks loudly, staring into the darkness around us.
I watch him from my hiding place, hoping that I’m still hidden. My heart feels as if it’s about to explode inside my chest.
He takes a step towards me. I dare not move. I’m torn between jumping out and showing myself, or just remaining hidden, biding my time.
“Come out now!” he shouts again, sounding a little less confident than the first time.
He nears the tree I’m hiding behind. I can see him clearly now, the moonlight spilling over every striking feature of his face. I can’t turn away now.
I swallow heavily, wondering if this is the right thing to do. It’s hard, when you’re torn between a promise you’ve made a long time ago and your own conscience. That promise weighs more.
I inhale deeply, straightening up and stepping out of the shadows, and into plain sight. I can see the effort of recognition in his eyes, but he can’t recognize me. How could he? He’s never seen me before.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, sounding distrustful, although he remains in the same place. He doesn’t step back.
I remain in place as well, just to show him that I’m not intimidated by him.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I reply, eyeing him boldly.
I feel my fingers tremble slightly, so I put them on my hips. That should stead them a little, at least visually.
He frowns upon hearing my words. Silently, he takes another step towards me, watching me scrutinously.
I see him much more clearly now. The square jaw. The unruly curls. I can’t tell if his eyes are green or blue, the shadows around us are hiding their true color from me. He’s wearing a simple, dark t-shirt, with short sleeves, so his muscular arms are in plain sight.
I try not to think about how surprisingly handsome he is. I have to admit I wasn’t expecting that. While it can make things difficult, a promise is a promise.
“I live around here,” he suddenly continues, with that tone of suspicion still in his voice, but now, there is something else in there as well. Curiosity? “Which I couldn’t say about you, otherwise I’d know you.”
“You live in the vampire town?” I ask.
“Where do you live?” he asks instead of a reply.
Although it’s dark, and there is only the moon above us lighting up the way, I can still feel his eyes traversing every inch of my body, which is wrapped up in a pair of jeans and an equally simple t-shirt. In fact, we’re almost wearing the same combination. Funny, if you think about it. But that’s besides the point. I try to focus on the matter at hand.
“I’m just passing by,” I explain vaguely.
“Isn’t it dangerous for a girl to be traveling on her own?” he asks, sounding even more amused at this point, but still skeptical. That makes two of us.
“Don’t I look like someone who can take care of herself?” I wonder, partly teasing. I want him even more intrigued.
He tilts his head a little, as if he’s trying to size me up, then comes up with the right answer.
“You’re in the woods, in the middle of the night, with a stranger,” he points out. “I don’t think there’s anything safe about that sentence.”
“Does that mean I should be afraid of you?” I ask.
He grins. “Do I look like someone you should be afraid of?”
I can’t help but smile back. He’s using my own logic against me.
“You’re in the woods, in the middle of the night, with a young woman,” I change his sentence only a little, to suit my needs.
This time, he chuckles out loud. “Point taken,” he tells me. “But there’s a hole in your theory. It would work only if I were following you, which of course, I wasn’t.”
“And how am I supposed to be sure of that?” I lift my eyebrow at him, daring him to talk.
“Because you were here first,” he reminds me. “Hiding behind that tree. If anything, you were stalking me, not the other way around.”
“You wish,” I chuckle.
“And you tell me you’re just passing through, which is the oldest excuse in the book,” he adds. “You at least know where I live. I on the other hand, don’t know anything about you. Not your name, not where you come from or where you’re going. That makes you the dangerous one, not me.”
“Wow,” I grimace at him, surprised and pleasantly amused by how he turned the tables on me. “I’m impressed.”
“Impressed enough to tell me your name?” he asks mischievously.
He grins again and I can see the two dimples in his cheeks. Instead of giving him a baby face, they actually make him somehow more masculine, in a trusting kind of way. It’s difficult to explain, but that sense of duty inside of me feels like it’s about to break. I quickly remind myself why I’m here. That’s enough to forget all about those dimples.
“Alyssa,” I say.
“In Wonderland,” he smirks.
“That’s Alice,” I correct him.
“But this is Wonderland,” he says, nodding.
