Commanded by night, p.3
Commanded by Night, page 3
“Fuck fuck fuck,” I grit out between clenched teeth as I drain the rest of my drinks and reach for my phone.
My family’s group chat is blowing up. But as soon as I open it, it’s eerily silent. I expect it to be pictures of my youngest sister, Chantel, drunk at some art gallery or charity event. But, instead, I’m shocked to see an invitation.
“No fucking way! Even that beta duchess is getting married? I’m so fucking fucked!”
Father would scold me for my lack of proper vocabulary to explain my situation. But just like a good fuck can make or break your evening, sometimes fuck is the only word that can describe the magnitude of a shitty situation.
No matter how “vulgar” it is coming from me, the vampire crown princess.
I grimace as the dainty virtual wedding invitation comes into full focus. Yet another vampire royal being sold off that’s not my twin sister or me. Not that I wish that fate on her, or myself for that matter.
But the longer we hold out, the more the Kindred underworld whispers something is wrong with us. When it comes to Kamari, they create rumors that she’s infertile, even though she’s currently engaged. As for me, they say I’m unable to continue our bloodline because I’m still single. And the more they talk, the more pressure Father puts on us to finally get married to someone worthy of our rank and the Alistar name.
The only problem is my fated mate is a headstrong scientist, a beta human without a trace of royal lineage. And to top it off, she’s TV3 resistant, the worst possible mashup destiny could have possibly thrust upon a future vampire queen like me.
I want Veronica more than I crave blood most days. But every day, the future queen of the Alistar Vampire Coven is unwed, and without an heir ready to be born, the more the streets will whisper that something is wrong with our dynasty.
And sooner rather than later, cheap talk will become real threats that could take over the throne.
Chantel: Wow! I never thought she’d get married before y’all! LMBAO
My beta baby sister, always a fucking ditz, decides to highlight the obvious to our collective carnage.
I scroll up, and the rest of the messages are relatively normal: recent ribbon cuttings at new business ventures, our stock portfolio doing well on the human markets, and, oh, the acquisition of Fontes Pharmaceuticals being approved by the Shifter Nation after decades of anti-monopoly litigation.
Vampires can wait out most lawsuits, but this one has been running for a while. I know Father will be happy since he’s been working to take over the Fontes Group since before I was born five hundred years ago.
So it was all good news until Chantel sent that photo and message, and now it’s crickets in the chat. Sometimes I think she’s a master manipulator rather than a messy bitch, since she always finds the perfect time to stir up shit.
But then I remember Chantel’s still my baby sister and a bigger drunk than all of us combined. And that’s saying something since I don’t recognize my family sober.
Come morning, she’ll be sweating bullets, crying, and begging for her twin sisters’ forgiveness when she realizes what “drunk her” did last night.
I swipe the group chat away, trying to focus on the immediate shitstorm heading my way and not Father’s impending rant about getting hitched.
With a heavy sigh, I circle my last glass of donated blood with my tongue, the memory of Veronica’s internship at Eclipse Heat Clinic coming back into full focus as I watch the red ripples fan out.
The heat clinic is still in business to this day, one of our charitable organizations, to save face with the Kindred world after word got out about some unethical practices at our primary research laboratory.
But we knew each other before we met again at the clinic, and those memories get sweeter each passing night without my sweetheart in my arms.
I’ve spent years reliving that moment, our instant connection, leading up to now. The moment we first met. As soon as I saw her, my heart started beating again. And finally, Veronica was back in my arms!
And I can’t even enjoy it after coming into contact with her blood, feeling sick to my fucking stomach. My skin feels clammy and wet, and all my senses are on high alert. And my veins…
Fuck!
The black blood surging through them is hard to miss, hence the long sleeves I selected for tonight.
I knew this would happen when I met Veronica and formed our pledge. Her blood is a virus, yet I crave it, regardless of the consequences. No matter how much I attempt to hide both facts, they remain true.
Nevertheless, I must change into something more flexible in front of Max. This get-up won’t cut it with a powerful alpha like him.
He’s my older brother. My only brother. Thoughtful and kind, by alpha standards anyway. But Max didn’t claw his way into royalty and eternity as a vampire lord by being a good person.
Maximus von Alistar is as cutthroat as they come when you don’t share his blood. And though he knows about our relationship, I wouldn’t put it past him to try to slit Veronica’s throat if he deems her to be insolent.
And between my bossy older brother and my proud younger mate, it’s anyone’s guess who’ll start a fight first. So it’s better to be able to fight and maneuver around them rather than worrying about insignificant shit like revealing my mutated blood.
Yeah, something like that.
“Fuck,” I breathe out a final time, heading for the back door that leads to my sports car.
I’ve been hiding a terrible secret from most of my coven that will rock the very foundation of the Kindred world. And time is running out to hide what will soon become evident to all.
Love is a curse and a cure.
I remember when I first heard that phrase now. One of my teachers said as much at the snooty preparatory I attended as a fledgling, during our secondary sex education. Back when the concept of fated mates and destiny seemed so distant and strange.
And now I’m experiencing the effects of both extremes of what love means to our kind, life, and death, all wrapped into one.
But will love or bloodlust win out during our deadly game of cat and mouse? I’ve been chasing after her for years, and Veronica has slipped from my grasp each time like the wind. It seems too perfect to have her fall into my lap now during the Holy Year.
But stranger things have happened, and maybe even stranger things are yet to come.
One way or another, come hell or high water, my fated mate is getting bit and bred before sunrise. Whether she wants to accept my claim or not. Even if she doesn’t want to turn.
Otherwise, by the end of the night, it might be too late to start over. It might be too late to save my life, let alone her friend’s.
This is my last chance to win back the love of my life. And there’s no way in hell I’m fucking it up.
So I dial my brother and pray for a miracle, just like Veronica is betting on me to be the key to a lifesaving cure.
Chapter 3
Veronica
Five Years Ago
I remember it like yesterday, that crisp autumn evening when a monster almost slashed through my neck, the last month of my residency program at a local heat clinic. But I’ll start from the beginning, give or take a few drunken nights I can no longer remember.
Yes, it’s best to start from when I first met Jasmine. My world changed forever when we crossed paths. It all began on a chilly winter night, as my nocturnal hometown roared back to life after what felt like a century of hibernation.
But no, that’s not right either. Because I didn’t know the truth about who she was until I took my first job. So it’s best to start where we honestly began. When I realized the extent of the gulf dividing me and my first love back then.
Having graduated from Crescent City University a few months ago, I decided to use my degree immediately and dive into the field. Eclipse Heat Clinic accepted me into their residency program to study pheromone transmission, and my friend took a job there as well, taking care of patients as an aspiring shifter doctor.
The facility was and is massive, catering to lower-income shifters, vampires, and other paranormal creatures, and the first of its kind. Most heat clinics were founded to cater to a wealthy clientele who wanted to keep their omega offspring safe from uncontrolled alphas and betas, while reigning in the lust of their alpha children.
But that left all the other unmated Kindred to fend for themselves during intense heats and ruts, often committing crimes leading to public disorder.
So when the Alistar Vampire Coven stepped up to endow a free heat clinic for all, cheers went up citywide.
Though, if you follow the blog of a certain wannabe investigative reporter in the city—Chastity or something—you would know establishing Eclipse helped cover up the crimes the influential vampire family let slide at one of their main facilities.
But, regardless of their intentions for creating the clinic, I was happy to be working there, eyes in my microscope and nose on vials of pheromones day in and day out, getting relevant experience to chart my path towards independence.
Because, in Crescent City, you either rise to the top or sink and get eaten. Sometimes literally. But I don’t like to think about that too often.
Now I wish I could say I took on the job for noble reasons. Some valiant cause like helping these poor creatures of the night just trying to survive clustered in a border town without mates and a lot of friction going around.
But the truth is I needed to find an in wherever someone would accept me. And in a world filled with horny Kindreds, as their mating seasons tended to line up, the shifters in charge of the clinic looked past their prejudice and offered me a job.
Being a beta around hormonal paranormals is an asset, not a liability, in my line of work.
As a beta, I’ve never experienced anything close to the all-consuming lust and wild passion the omegas and alphas describe during their visits.
But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand that, unmated, it’s fucking unbearable to go through it. Like the worst symptoms of period cramps, combined with a sex drive that could rival a nymphomaniac.
So while I didn’t take the job for noble reasons, my intention to create stronger, safer, more efficient, and most importantly, cost-effective heat and rut suppressants will lead to the common welfare of Kindred one day. Something I take pride in, even though my research hasn’t hit shelves quite yet.
And I hold onto that pride and my mission to keep me going on days like today when I’m forced to work the front desk and listen to sob stories.
“...in the middle of the orchestra rehearsal! Goddess above, I almost died on the spot! I finished and rushed right here before my heat took me out. I’m so thankful Eclipse exists. The price we omegas pay for our independence is steep but worth it in the end.”
I nod along with a tight smile as the winged music instructor in front of me finishes her diatribe about the plight of us omega, assuming I’m one since I’m working the front desk and not in an office, most likely.
“Before, you had to prowl on the streets for relief, or hole yourself up in your room, drugged into oblivion. It’s hard enough for us omegas to hold a job as is, you know what I mean? Blessings! Blessings! Thank you so much for being here,” the bird shifter squawks.
I’m never working the front desk again, I think, releasing a ragged sigh as she flaps her wings in a frenzy, waiting for further instruction.
We’re short-staffed and overflowing with patients, which is why I’m sometimes out of the lab. That’s the excuse the higher-ups give me. But the truth is most of the medical professionals here are alphas.
It’s beneath them to be receptionists and suitable for mediocre betas like me. But somehow it’s okay for them to be alone with omegas in heat, often too arrogant to take their suppressants properly. Which is insane if you ask me
Not like anybody ever does. Though the chip on my shoulder is getting so heavy, I might whack one of these cocky alphas with it soon and drill some sense into them. I know I need to let it go, but it eats at me regardless.
Yet, there’s no making sense of the illogical. And the rigid hierarchies, visible and invisible, in Kindred society are followed without question even when they don’t make any damn sense.
Besides, I don’t mind the boost in pay since I get double time every minute I’m not doing the job they hired me to do. So it all works out, I guess.
And it’s good to remember why I’m doing this and to keep my ego in check. Despite the downsides, sometimes it’s worthwhile to be a “useless beta.”
The benefits are slim, but when they’re good, they’re great, and I don’t know what I would have done if I were in my patient’s situation. And since I’m constantly underestimated, I’m always seen as overperforming, even when I half-ass a task. Which is rare, but still, the point still stands.
“Thank you, Ms. Fontes-Humphrey. Please take a seat, and Dr… Um, actually, Dr. Lobo will see you shortly!”
Directing the middle-aged omega to sit down, I finish typing her intake form, suddenly reminiscing on my childhood in an average family smack dab in a supernatural world.
I never wanted to be an alpha when I was little. I wanted to be an omega and was jealous of them. I fantasized about being swept off my feet by a beautiful alpha one day, caressed and treasured as something worthy of absolute devotion, locked away in a tower by my alpha queen.
Until I grew up and realized what you have to trade for that devotion and how much it sucks to be an omega when you’re not willing to submit.
“Ah, Eddie,” I call out to the temporary doctor on duty, as the real one stepped out for lunch after checking the schedule. “Can you take on another patient?”
Eddie smiles at me, the same wolfish grin I fell in love with freshman year. At least, I thought I fell in love with it. Until I realized the affection I felt for Eddie wasn’t the type of love other girls felt for their boyfriends.
He holds up a finger, indicating he’ll be with the omega in a minute. I nod, tapping my pen against the table as I watch him and his volunteer friend load heavy liquified suppressant into the storage closet.
Today’s helper is Oberon, who lives up to his status as an alpha bear shifter in every way: tall, muscular, barrel-chested, with charcoal-black skin, a full afro of kinky black curls, and deep-set dark brown eyes that pierce your soul.
He’s also a prince of a remote bear sleuth on the Fortress of the Bear doing public service since it’s fashionable nowadays to do so when you’re royalty. Good PR and all.
Oberon and Eddie met after we broke up our junior year, separating briefly to pursue different master’s programs. The alpha bear’s nice enough but a little gloomy, and obviously after Eddie’s ass, who’s clueless.
As much as my friend and former partner is a nice guy and a brilliant physician-in-training, he’s stuck in old ways of thinking.
Eddie can’t imagine an alpha desiring another alpha, just like it shocked him to find out a beta female would want other women, even if nothing “fruitful” can come of it.
But he came around fast and considers himself an ally. Little does Eddie know his new buddy wants to help him cross the threshold from ally to something more.
Some days I want to tell him, but I always decide against it. You have to come to that conclusion on your own regarding desire, and having it forced on him might make him run away.
It sure as hell made me run away until my family, Eddie, and my girlfriends convinced me not to drop out and live as my authentic self.
And I took all that love and wisdom they poured into me and fell head over heels for a woman who I can only aspire to be a maid for in the future.
Said woman suddenly strolls into the office, wearing a down-to-earth black tank top with a matching leather trench coat, skin-tight pants, and sunglasses, paired with bright ruby-red heeled boots. Her raven-black hair is cropped in an asymmetrical bob just above her pointed ears, claws extended, fangs elongated, a dangerous aura radiating from her dark brown skin.
The vampire’s left ear is pierced with what looks like a miniature sword. An illusion, but cool looking nonetheless. Most striking of all is what looks to be a pentagram tattoo poking out from under her top that I don’t remember being there before.
Kindred, not in the know, will think she’s a goth or just came from a punk funeral. But the all-black is to protect her delicate skin.
In the movies, daywalkers are something special. But all vampires can walk in the daytime in Crescent City with strong enough SPF and some admittedly kiss-ass-looking UVB clothing.
She curls her lips, glancing around the room, inspiring gasps of shock from those who recognize her and polite smiles and confused stares from everyone else at her grand entrance.
You’d think everyone and their grandmother would know who she is by now. She’s not just famous, Jasmine, the woman I should’ve never fallen in love with, is royalty!
But just like every person on Earth doesn’t know the face of every royal worldwide, half the clinic doesn’t recognize her. Something she takes advantage of as she makes a beeline for me.
I clench my thighs and grit my teeth, embarrassed by the instant dampness between my legs. I’ve imagined hundreds of scenarios in which, after hours, Jasmine throws me on a clinic table and has her way with me, wrapped up in each other’s arms for hours, making love into the wee hours until dawn.
But my steamy imagination is no match for seeing the vampire princess of Crescent City walking my way in reality. I gulp as she leans against the front desk, all toothy smile, pushing up her tinted frames to reveal startling bright gold eyes. She winks at me, and her playfulness is stressing me the hell out.
“Hiya, sweetheart! Our little game of cat and mouse took a while to end. One second we’re making out at Lyric, and the next minute you poof,” she snaps, “were gone like the wind. But when I saw your face on the new employee roll, I just had to come in for a visit. Now, how about we ditch this place and finish what we started?”
