Vampyre | Book I of Bloodlines | Free on Inkitt & Kindle Unlimited
Bloodlines

Darius

I’m not entirely sure what Viola is up to, but the moment I overheard her scheming with Amber about orchestrating a distraction at the doctor’s office, I knew she was planning something.

Viola is taking a dangerous path and heading for trouble. I know the consequences of such paths all too well. Hopefully, she’s not doing any of this for my sake, but after seeing her mind at work yesterday, I know it’s somehow connected to my predicament.

Around noon, I hear the car pulling through the gates and up the rocky drive. Relief floods me when I hear Viola’s voice as she exits the vehicle. She’s home, safe where she belongs—until William returns and resumes his torment.

I obsessively track every one of her footsteps as she makes her way into the house.

“I’d like tea in the library, and Amber is to have the rest of the day off, doctor’s orders,” she instructs Mrs. Norris as she walks right past her and heads straight for the library.

Viola’s tone leaves no room for argument, and I can’t help but feel proud of her. William made a grave mistake underestimating her—he won’t break her, and I suspect she will exploit that fact if he doesn’t kill her first.

The moment she locked eyes with me for the first time, I knew she would turn this house upside down.

Viola lingers in the library, and impatience wells up inside me. For the first time in years, frustration creeps in. Is she stalling? She knows I can hear her. But why play such games with a half-dead Daemon wasting away in her house?

The notion fades as I hear Viola pulling book after book from the shelves as though in search of something specific. Mrs. Norris enters with a tray and sets it down, but Viola barely acknowledges her, leaving Mrs. Norris waiting in the room to be addressed.

“Milady, I received a letter from the Master today,” Mrs. Norris says hesitantly.

Her tone has altered significantly since the night Viola reprimanded her. After a brief silence, Mrs. Norris continues.

“He said he would be returning home…with his son. I am to prepare a room for the boy.”

“Very well,” Viola responds flatly. “Did he specify which room?”

“No, milady.”

“How old is the boy?”

“I didn’t even know he had a son,” Mrs. Norris sounds notably hurt by this revelation.

I can almost hear the gears turning in Viola’s mind from here. “Prepare two rooms. If he’s younger than nine, place him in the green room next to mine. If he’s older, replace a room further away.”

“Very well, milady.” I hear Mrs. Norris exit the library and close the door behind her.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Viola rushes to lock the library doors, gathers her collection of books, and hurries through the secret passage. I can hear her heart rate increase as she approaches the door and begins to unlock it.

“Alright, Mr. Kane,” she announces upon entering, holding a large stack of books that she places in front of me. “I have questions for you, and if you provide answers, I’ll offer something in return.”

Before I can respond, she raises a finger and exits the room briefly. When she returns with her tea tray, she sets it down on the floor. I observe with curiosity as she sits on the floor and proceeds to pour herself a cup of tea.

Viola takes a bite of her sandwich and looks up at me. “Why did you kill Emily?”

Her extremely direct question hits me like a bullet to the head. Having experienced a gunshot wound to the head before, I can tell you it’s rather unpleasant.

Dr. Gibbons must have said something—he was there when it all happened. He cut out Emily’s baby and saved the boy’s life. William had the child sent away, unwilling to raise him himself. Considering he’s bringing him back, the boy must be old enough now for William to replace interesting. Or perhaps William believes he’s old enough to begin his training in the family business.

I observe Viola casually taking another bite from her sandwich. When I don’t respond to her question, she sets down her sandwich and retrieves something from her pocket—a bottle of what appears to be human blood. The beast within me reacts immediately at the sight, and I feel my fangs extend.

“Clever girl,” I chuckle, “so this is what all the plotting with Amber was about?”

Viola gazes up at me, her expression devoid of amusement. She appears almost saddened as if her heart has been broken.

“Why did you kill Emily?” She asks again.

I release a long sigh, reluctant to divulge the truth. However, as I glance at the bottle of life before me, I realize that my sustenance will come at a price, and that price is information. Viola may be young, but she’s no fool.

“I was not the one who inflicted the mortal blow, but I couldn’t save her…naturally, I blame myself,” I confess.

The memory of Emily’s blood-spattered corpse flashes through my mind. I allow my head to drop as I relive the sorrow of my failure to save her.

“Her’s is the one life I wish I could give back—my poor little Emily…”

Viola falls silent for a long moment. “Was she your lover?”

The absurdity of the idea prompts me to look at her in surprise. “Heavens no. Emily was my great-great-grandniece. Until a few moments ago, I thought she was my last living relative in this part of the world.”

Viola’s brows furrow in thought. “William’s son?”

I nod. “Yes, William’s boy is the last direct human relative I have left from my sister’s line. I have extended family back in my homeland, but Emily’s son would be my only legacy.”

Viola gazes down at her hands, deep in contemplation. “Dr. Gibbons said William loved her.”

The idea the Viola may be jealous of William’s first wife sends my gut wrenching with a jealousy of my own.

“In his own twisted way, I suppose he did, but Emily never wanted to marry William. He practically smothered her with his obsession with her, enchanted by her exotic appearance,” I explain.

Viola looks up at me curiously. “Exotic?”

“I am not from these lands, though I imagine it’s hard to tell with me in this state of decay. She never told me exactly how he convinced her to marry him.”

“So, how did it happen? How did she die if not by your hands?”

I glance at the bottle of blood before responding with a sigh. “When William found out I was coming to visit, he locked Emily away and pretended she was visiting friends. It all went to hell when I heard her in the house and tried to take her by force. He was prepared to do anything to make her stay…even if it meant killing her.”

Viola stares at me for a long moment as she processes everything. I observe her swollen eye as she does so—it doesn’t seem to be improving. I could help her with it, but she’d need to get close, and that’s a risk I’m not willing to take.

“So it was William who killed her…?”

“I tried to turn her while she still had life in her, but William intervened and prevented me from doing so.”

“Turn her?”

“Into a Vampyre. Though it is a cursed life, it is still life. I would have looked after her and trained her to tame her beast, but if Emily had asked me to, I would have gladly ended her. It would have at least been a choice she could have made for herself.”

Viola nods in understanding. She takes the bottle of blood, opens it, and attaches a strange tube to it. Rising to her feet, she steps closer, holding the end of the tube in her outstretched hand. Bringing it to my lips, I hold it in place as she turns the bottle upside down, allowing the blood to flow into the tube and into my mouth.

It’s been three years since I’ve tasted human blood—William was the last human I fed on. This blood is a little old, but at this point, it’s the best thing I’ve tasted in what feels like an eternity.

I suck on the tube until there’s nothing left and close my eyes, feeling my body quickly utilizing whatever magic was left in that old blood to heal myself. The stiffness in my arms slowly fades, and my eyes no longer feel as if they’re on fire in my skull.

I chuckle. “Fifty more of those, and I should be back to normal.”

My voice sounds different, not as raspy as it was moments ago.

“I don’t have a skirt big enough to fit that many bottles,” Viola says flatly.

I manage to pull myself up a little to sit back on my heels. No longer hanging forward like that is a relief. It’s not as if I feel any physical pain—I’m a walking corpse, after all—but there’s a certain discomfort that comes from being restricted too long, especially bound by silver.

I feel the blood pulsing through my veins, adding a little more strength with each beat. When I open my eyes and meet Viola’s gaze, she seems taken aback.

Viola studies me for so long that I start to worry until she smiles that beautiful smile of hers. Even with one of her eyes swollen shut, her natural beauty shines through, hitting my heart with a sensation too otherworldly to put into words.

“Your eyes, they’re the most incredible shade of blue I’ve ever seen in my life,” she says, almost to herself.

My brows knit. “Blue?”

“They were almost white before, now they’re blue... But shouldn’t they be brown?” Viola steps closer to get a better look.

Her scent is so intoxicating it makes me feel weak. I watch her carefully as she leans in a little closer and resist the overwhelming urge to kiss her. She’s so close, too close, within feeding distance, and I feel myself moving back away from her.

“You’re too close, Viola.”

Viola is snapped out of whatever little trance she had fallen underhand steps back.

“I’m sorry,” she says, stepping back again and seeming to busy herself by putting the empty bottle back into her skirt.

“I don’t want you going to Dr. Gibbons again. Don’t put yourself at risk, not for my sake.”

Viola smirks and makes herself comfortable on the floor.

“Promise me you won’t go again.”

“I’ll do no such thing, promise, that is,” Viola says flatly as she takes a bite out of her sandwich.

She then picks up a book, opens it on the floor, and flips through its pages. After a moment of perusing, she looks up at me, dead serious. “Would it really take fifty bottles?”

I snicker. “No, but that blood isn’t exactly fresh.”

Viola ponders my words before returning to her book and sipping her tea.

“I guess I’ll return to my original plan then,” she mutters.

“And what plan might that be, Viola?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she responds with a smirk playing on her lips.

I chuckle to myself. She’s incorrigible—nothing I say will detour her from whatever path she’s set herself on.

I observe Viola as she reads her books for a long time. She appears comfortable lying on the floor, her focus impressive. Her presence here brings a peace I didn’t think I’d ever feel again. I watch her until I can no longer keep my eyes open, drifting off into the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in years.

Once again, she is in my dreams.