The Magnolia and the Bleeding Heart, page 1
THE MAGNOLIA AND THE BLEEDING HEART
BOUND BY BLOOD
RIVER BENNET
Copyright © 2023 River Bennet
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters are a work of fiction. Any names, places, or references therein are merely coincidental.
For licensing permissions contact: riverbennetauthor@gmail.com
Cover by: Covers by Jules (coversbyjules.crd.co)
ISBN: 979-8-9891504-0-3
“This love came back to me.” - Taylor Swift
CONTENTS
Content Warnings
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other stories in the Bound by Blood novella series:
Sneak Peek at Heroines of Olympus
CONTENT WARNINGS
This book is intended for mature readers, eighteen years and older. It contains the following themes and situations, as well as repeated references to blood and biting. Please review the triggers before reading:
Assault
Blood
Biting
Drugs and Alcohol
Explosions
Gambling
Hospitals
Kidnapping
Life Support
Murder
Near Death Situations
Organized Crime
Pedophilia (referenced, no direct experience in scene)
Violence
Voyeurism
PROLOGUE
Despite what you might have read in books or watched in movies, vampires really aren’t that hard to kill. We walk this earth like we are invincible just because we have the upper hand over humans. We willfully ignore the fact that we aren’t as invulnerable as we like to believe.
Sometimes, that ignorance leads us to make foolish decisions.
I look at the chaotic scene around me, my ears still ringing from the blast, as I try to process how we got here. Should I have just walked away when I was told? Guilt floods through me, but I know one thing for certain; I was never going to leave her again, no matter how many threats come our way.
A still form lying next to the burning remnants of my car catches my eye and a sob bursts out of me.
The day that started all of this five years ago flashes in my mind and plays on a loop as I stagger over to the body on the ground, terrified of who I will find.
“You can’t do this!” I exclaim.
I spit out a mouthful of blood onto the pavement, my knees and palms digging into the hard, gritty asphalt. Man, Jason’s goons can pack a punch.
“I assure you, I can.” Jason replies, his voice flat and completely devoid of emotion, as if he isn’t ripping my entire world out from under me right now.
The sky is pitch black with the half moon obscured entirely by clouds, as if she too wants nothing to do with me. Why should she care? I’m just an insignificant vampire… who works for a vampire mafia… ok so I’m not exactly an innocent, except when it comes to this recent accusation. They didn't provide any proof, and they answered my question of who labeled me a traitor with a punch to the face and a probably broken nose.
My long blonde hair is soaked as rain cascades from the sky, visible only in the beam of the headlights from my Jeep, which is parked at the head of the driveway, just outside the front gates, already running and waiting for me. How thoughtful. The lights of The Family’s mansion compound glitter in the distance, everything between us and them a void of darkness.
The ground is cold and wet beneath my hands, causing a chill to seep into my bones.
“I don’t know what you were told, but it wasn’t me that sold us out to the Feds. How could you even think that? Have I been anything but loyal to you all these years?” I plead, my desperation and anger fighting for dominance.
Jason says nothing and I call out for the only thing that I know in this world is true.
“Harper!” I shriek in the mansion's direction, even though I know she can’t hear me from where we are.
“She asked me to give you this,” He replies and hands me an envelope. “It’s time for you to leave.”
The breeze is cruel as it wafts the hints of fragrance from the envelope over to me before my hands can grasp it and I’m flooded with her magnolia perfume. The smell immediately evokes memories of us laughing together, kissing, being in love.
My fingers close around the envelope, and it crinkles in my hand as I fight back a sob. DO NOT let them see me this way. I may be disgraced and disowned by The Family, and now dismissed from the love of my life, but I WILL NOT let them see me cry. Scrounging up the last of my dignity, I pick myself up off the ground.
I slam the door behind me as I get in the car, not bothering to take off my soaked leather jacket. My bracelets jangle as slam the car into reverse. I just want to get out of here before Jason changes his mind and decides I’m better off dead.
CHAPTER ONE
I can hear them coming long before they round the corner of the building. High-pitched chatter and giggles that are painful to my sensitive ears precede the group of teenage girls who sound like they are ready for a night of partying. I smirk as one of them explains to the others that she “totally knows the guy at the door” and that he won’t check their IDs.
This is what my life is now. Checking IDs, working the door, the odd sketchy security job here and there. Five years of scraping by amongst the humans, a drastic change from the high life of The Family. The job hadn’t always been on the up and up, but my bank accounts were always well cushioned. I had a suite in the mansion, and the Princess on my arm. Harper had been the deepest cut. I could have made it through all the rest as long as she was by my side, but apparently she, too, had been poisoned against me. I was too broken to give a shit about who it was. The damage was done.
It’s a Thursday, which means it's College Night at this club and high schools students like to try and slip in. A few of the bouncers can’t be bothered to give a shit and let them in without carding them. It’s a sad state of things when I’m the one that cares the most, but I can’t bring myself to look the other way. I have seen too many teenagers ruin their lives while on substances they have no business being anywhere near.
When they finally round the corner and see me at the door instead of who they expected, they pause. They whisper amongst themselves despite the fact that I can hear every word. They decide it might be better to try their luck another night. Smirking, I’m grateful I don’t have to fight with them. It doesn’t matter that they call me a ‘tight ass bitch’ as they’re walking away. I’m just glad tonight it’s not being whined in my face by children.
They walk back the way they came and just like that, everything is quiet again. Few people are in the club tonight, or any night, really.
Calling the location of tonight’s job a “club” is generous, but that’s what passes for a night life in East Texas. The place is basically a glorified sports bar with a dancing room attached. The jobs are easy, though. Even the biggest idiots usually back down with a flash of my fangs, and the rest don’t have a fraction of the strength of a vampire. Every once in a while, a human will catch me off guard and leave me the present of a bruise before I break the hand that delivered it.
Despite both human and vampire societies intermingling in relative harmony, there is still a large level of separation between the two. The ruling vampire families manage most vampire run businesses. Humans avoid vampire politics and vampires are sleeping during the day, when most of the human world operates. The night owl humans and the vampires interact the most, but even then, they rarely frequent each other’s clubs and bars.
Because The Family of Texas had shunned me, at least a handful of people glared at me every time I walked into a vampire club, even ones in Houston or Austin - well away from The Family’s home base in Dallas. I’m not one to be self-conscious, but when I know it’s for something I didn’t even do, it gets old. I could try leaving, go to another state, another country even, but I just can’t seem to leave Texas.
If it hadn’t been for my best friend, I don’t know what I would have done when everything fell apart. Camille - Millie- is one of the few people in the world that I consider a genuine friend. She started out as my source, but we found we enjoyed each other’s companionship and relied on each other. She’s still my source, but I would take her friendship over that any day. We sometimes talk about if we could be more. The attraction is there for sure, and we crossed the physical line a long time ago. I love her, but I don’t know if it’s that kind of love. Maybe it could have been, and Harper just ruined me. Friends with benefits seems too crass
Source contracts allow vampires and humans to all live so peacefully together. Vampires couldn’t ignore that they need to feed, but we found there were many ways that someone could acquire blood ethically. It had surprised society that there had been so many humans that were more than willing to volunteer to share their life force with a vampire in exchange for a favor, money, curiosity. Sometimes even just a good lay. They formed an entirely new branch of law so that Source contract lawyers can now be found everywhere. There was a UT bus ad just last week promoting their coursework on the topic.
Another surprise to come out of this symbiotic relationship with humans happens when they ingest our blood. It turns out that a vampire’s blood can heal many of the human afflictions. It’s not always a guarantee, but many humans offer to be a Source once they’re healed if the vampire blood remedies their ailment.
That’s how I met Millie. She had an aggressive type of cancer and was desperate enough to seek a contract. She put out an ad in the Source Classifieds at just the right time when I needed a new one. Apparently, I was the perfect match and within a month; the doctors cleared her entirely and she became my source. Seven years later, I can’t imagine her not being in my life. I’ve offered to shred the Source contract a dozen times and find a new one because I never want her to think that’s the only reason I’ve stayed friends with her this whole time. Every time she insists we keep it. She says this is how she can take care of me.
I told her she takes care of me in so many other ways, and that even still we can do it without the contract. She demanded that it stay there for my protection and so I agreed.
It was her house that I dragged my ass to the night everything went to shit. We have shared the small two-bedroom cottage ever since. It is out in the middle of nowhere, which is annoying when I have to drive anywhere, but is also a solace from the chaos of the outside world. Sitting out on the porch in the evenings listening to the crickets while fireflies light up the tree line is a special kind of heaven.
I’m finally on my way home after the club closed at three in the morning. The high beams of my jeep light up the red dirt road and the trees lining either side of it.
I turn into the driveway and park under the big willow tree in the yard. The branches are swaying softly in the gentle breeze, allowing tiny slivers of moonlight to flicker through. The effect is magical and soothing.
I open the car door and can already hear Dolly Parton blaring from the back porch, accompanied by the sound of a blender. A huge grin spreads across my face. It’s margarita time. I go through the front door so I can drop my stuff off and get changed into sweats and a T-shirt. I fix the loose bun that’s containing my blonde hair and then follow the sound of Dolly plus Millie singing “9 to 5” all the way to the tiny but cute kitchen.
Millie whirls around when she hears me walk in behind her. “Right on time!”
She shoves a glass in my hand with a lavender-colored blended drink and what smells like vanilla sugar on the rim.
The butterfly tattoo on my wrist catches my eye. Don’t get a matching tattoo with your girlfriend, kids. It never works out and then you’re left staring at the permanent reminder. I pull my sleeve down over it. Out of sight, out of mind.
“For what?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.
She raises her glass to me, and we clink glasses and take a drink.
The flavor is divine. I sift through the hints of elderflower, lavender, and rose. Honey slips in between the more robust flavors while the bite of tequila is a constant. Millie always makes the best drinks. She’s a bartender but is trying to get her social media presence to take off. She regularly posts videos with her creative recipes and tips on making drinks. The alcohol doesn’t really affect me as a vampire, but I can still appreciate the flavors and want to support my friend.
She sets her drink down on the counter and turns to face me, a huge smile on her face.
“We’re celebrating,” she says, taking a deep breath.
“I was invited to do a weekly show on the Culinary Channel! I will travel to L.A. every weekend. They are paying for my travel, lodging, and everything when I’m there. The representative is apparently a big fan of my blends!” She finishes and waits for my response.
“That’s incredible!” I exclaim. “I’m so proud of you! I knew all you needed was for the right person to see your content.”
I pull her in for a big hug, hoping she can see how truly excited I am for her. My resting bitch face has a tendency to mask my enthusiasm for things sometimes and I feel like I have to put extra effort into making sure my emotions are being adequately conveyed - at least with the people I care about.
We spend the rest of the night in our matching chairs out on the porch, feet up on the railing while the nail polish dries on them. We sang along to our classic favorites -Dolly, Selena, Whitney- while throwing in some of our modern favorites as well - Beyoncé, Florence, BlackPink. It was a night of girl power anthems, bonding, and margaritas to celebrate my best friend finally getting a window of opportunity to start really reaching for her dreams. I can’t wait to support her every step of the way, even if that means I get to see a little less of her.
CHAPTER TWO
How much longer can this night drag on?
I zone out, watching the water of the Red River rush by. The lights of the casino boat flash in time with the cacophony of sounds coming from the slot machines on the casino floor behind me.
It’s rare I will take a security shift at one of the Shreveport casinos but holiday weekends pay the big bucks and I am anything but affluent at the moment and Millie just left for her first weekend in LA. Plus, this is still better than working the door at that skeevy bar back in Tyler. It should almost be a joke to refer to me as the muscle, the perks of being a vampire. I may be smaller in stature, but I’m still stronger than any human that wants to try me. Sometimes being underestimated gets annoying, but I can’t deny how satisfying it is when they’re on their asses, shocked and in pain.
I know, I sound like a total asshole, and I probably am. I don’t really care anymore. I tried to do what I was supposed to. I tried to live within the rules of society. What did it cost me? My home, my job, my family, and my girlfriend.
I turn my attention back to the casino floor, scanning it for anyone acting up, making a scene, or doing anything even remotely entertaining. My gaze lingers on one of the high roller craps tables. A man in a moderately expensive suit is shaking the dice in his hand while two beautiful women hang on his arms crooning their good luck wishes. His friends cheer him on as they all sip glasses of top-shelf liqueur. I can so easily recall when I would have been on that side of things. I had been living the high roller life, VIP.
Being high on the food chain of the largest vampire mafia in Texas comes with its perks. I was living in a mansion, my wardrobe was killer, I had the most beautiful woman on my arm and in my bed. I had felt untouchable. It all vanished five years ago and I was so destroyed that I didn’t even bother to look into who had lied about me, into what happened.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice someone trying to pull a fast one over on the blackjack dealer. In a blink, I am across the room, courtesy of my vampire speed. The man barely has time to let out a startled squeak before I wrench his arm around his back and zip us over to the security office.
I knock on the door gently, and it swings open immediately.
Mike greets me with a big grin, and I open my mouth to explain, but he puts up a hand to stop me, gesturing at the screens on the wall. “Nice one, Jessie, saw it on the camera.”
