Blood Descendants (Vengeance and Venom #1)

Chapter 16

T here is no natural light in our apartment. The windows constantly remain closed during the daytime hours, for Ares’ sake. So, when I wake, I have no indication of what time it is or how long I’ve been asleep.

I roll over, noting the dull ache between my legs. And a wicked smile pulls on my lips as I remember everything that happened. And there, as I roll over, I make out Ares’ form in the bed through the dark.

He’s lying on his back, an arm slung over his eyes. I’ve never seen him sleep before. He told me once that, as a vampire, he doesn’t sleep often. But here’s the proof that he does, in fact, sleep at times. And I take great pride in the fact that I tired him out enough to do so.

Through the dark, I stare at him. He’s so damn beautiful. Yes, he looks dangerous. He looks like someone you’d cross the street to walk on the opposite side of the road from. But just look at him. Gorgeous lips. The most incredible jawline of any man I’ve ever seen. And that’s nothing said of this body .

I can’t help it. I reach out and touch him. My fingers trace their way over his chest, down his stomach.

I don’t startle when his hand suddenly wraps around my wrist.

“Dangerous, Vengeance,” he says. His voice comes out scratchy and low, so freshly woken from sleep, and it reaches a very feminine place in me.

“You’ve never made me feel in danger, Venom,” I say, grinning as I splay my whole hand against his bare skin.

He blinks the sleep from his eyes, staring up at me. Slower this time, he brings his hand to the side of my neck. He pulls me down to his lips, kissing me with reverence and fervor. “Good morning,” he says in a growl.

“Good morning,” I say as I melt into him.

Ares brushes the hair from my face, and I relish the feeling of his warmth. Even the smell of him is comforting.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks, his tone gentle and genuine.

“Sore,” I answer with a chuckle. “But amazing. Last night was perfect.”

“No regrets?” he asks. And as I look up and meet his eyes, I see worry there.

It’s my turn to touch him, to reassure him. I reach a hand up and place it on the side of his face, my thumb brushing back and forth over his cheek. “None, Ares. I meant everything I said last night.”

“I didn’t scare you away?” he asks. “Because I mean it, Lana. I’m in this. All the way.”

I stare into his hazel eyes, and I see the conviction there. Nothing in me doubts what he’s saying. “You’re not just my fake fiancé anymore, Ares. You’re mine. Exclusive for real.”

“Mine,” he says, his eyes darkening. He rolls forward, pushing me onto my back. And he kisses me. Deep. Claiming.

Labels are such a strange thing. We’ve used fiancée for weeks now. I guess I could call Ares my boyfriend now, but that does so little to capture what this is.

Mine feels like such a better term.

Ares is mine.

From the nightstand, Ares’ phone buzzes. He ignores it, his lips coming to my neck, his hand sliding down my throat, over my chest, until he cups my breast. But then his phone goes off again. And then again.

Ares mutters a curse against my skin and, with a reluctant groan, rolls away from me to retrieve the device.

I pull the blanket around me, enjoying the view of his tattooed back. Damn. Every square inch of him is perfect.

“It’s James,” Ares says, reading through the multiple texts. “Sounds like there were shots fired at one of my buildings last night. Some domestic.”

“Is everyone okay?” I ask, my brows furrowing. In a city this populated, shit like this happens daily, but this is coming a little close to home.

“Sounds like it, but the police want me to come check it out to give some kind of inspection clearance,” he says as he climbs out of bed. And I instantly flush at seeing his completely naked silhouette in the mostly dark room. “Want to come with?”

I bite my lower lip and nod as he looks over his shoulder at me. Throwing the blanket off, I climb free of the bed. I step toward the bathroom, but in half a second, Ares is around the bed, wrapping his arms around my waist. I squeal as he picks me right up off the floor and buries his face against my neck.

“Fuck, it’s taking everything I have in me not to take you right here again,” he says as he sucks on my skin. “But you need to recover from last night. And we have to get going.”

I spin in his arms, my breasts pressed into his chest. Between us, his hard cock shows his readiness. “Tonight,” I say, raising one eyebrow. “You’re mine tonight.”

“Deal,” he says.

He smacks my ass as I turn and head back into the bathroom. I pin my hair up and take a quick shower while Ares gets dressed. When I’m finished, I pull on a sensible outfit and fix my makeup since I slept in it last night. Ten minutes after James texted, Ares and I head out of the apartment and into the elevator.

And it’s everything when I slip my hand into his when it’s just us. When he leans in and kisses me hard just ten seconds before the elevator door opens.

These moments are just for us. There are no witnesses. There’s no worry about if we’re being watched. We do these things because we want to. Because he is mine.

With his specialized sunglasses on, Ares and I stride out into the lobby. Sun streams in through the windows. With a wave to Laz, we head to the door that goes into the parking. Ares extends the helmet to me, and I climb on behind him.

Damn. This is the best as I wrap my arms around his waist. I can cling as tight to him as I want as we pull out onto the street. I don’t hold back as I rub my hand over his chest. Ares puts his left hand on my thigh, and everything in me feels alive.

A backpack. Isn’t that what a girlfriend on the back of a man’s bike is called?

I’m a very happy backpack.

Ares weaves his way through the traffic. It’s busy, considering it’s Saturday. We head straight south, navigating our way expertly until Ares rolls into Hell’s Kitchen. And he truly is an expert on finding parking in the city where it’s impossible to find parking. He pays for it, and then, hand in hand, we head down the street.

I spot James standing at a curbside, tapping away furiously on his phone. A police officer stands nearby, writing up something on a pad of paper.

“James,” Ares greats his property executor. James’ head snaps up, though I can’t see his eyes at all through his own special sunglasses.

“Ares,” James replies, standing straight and putting his phone into his pocket. “Sorry to have called you for this, but the cops said I couldn’t sign for it.”

“It’s the law,” the officer says in a monotone, bored voice. He doesn’t look up from whatever he’s writing.

James looks annoyed. “Anyway. Looks like the husband was drunk. Couple started fighting. The husband grabbed his gun and started firing off shots.”

“At his wife?” I ask for clarification, my brows furrowing.

“She said no,” the officer says, finally putting away his notepad and joining us. “He was just being an asshole who took no thought to the fact that he lives in an apartment surrounded by other apartments. By the time we got here, the guy had passed out. But, since the shots went through multiple walls into other units, we need the owner to come sign that you’ll have the plumbing and electrical inspected so there are no safety hazards.”

“Was anyone hurt?” Ares asks.

The cop presses his lips together in a tight line and shakes his head. “Nah, just peekaboo holes between neighbors now. You’re welcome to go check out the damage if you like.”

“I need to do that?” Ares asks James, looking at him with this ‘you got this?’ expression.

“Yes, you do,” James says, and there’s an expression on his face that I can’t quite read.

“Go ahead, Mr. Hunt,” the cop says. “But if you’ll sign here that you’ll get your inspections, I’ll be on my way. Call if you have questions.”

Ares doesn’t hesitate as he signs the papers. And for the first time, I wonder if Ares just owns a few units in this place or the whole building?

With Ares, I never know.

The cop leaves Ares with his card and climbs into his cruiser, pulling away from the curb.

“What’s going on?” Ares asks, turning back to James.

“You don’t actually need to go in, but I needed to talk to you. One of the neighboring tenants is a Born,” James says, keeping his tone low so he’s not overheard. “The man is off his fucking rocker, but he’s pissed about the daylight coming in. When he realized what I am, he started going off about calling in the House of Marshals, saying he wanted to get Aleah Steele in here. I think he’s harmless, but I thought you should know.”

“Who the fuck is the House of Marshals? Or Allah Steele?” Ares questions, his brows furrowing.

James glances from Ares to me and then back to Ares, looking a little confused. “The House of Allaway?”

“You keep saying House like I should know what that means,” Ares says, his tone making his loss of patience obvious.

James arches a brow, his mouth a little slack. He looks at me again like he’s expecting one of us to laugh like this is some stupid joke we’re trying to make. “I… I’m sorry. Ares, how the fuck do you not know about the Houses? You… you know about Cyrus, though, right?”

Something sinks in my stomach. James seems truly shocked and honestly worried that Ares doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And I have to wonder, what parts of this vampire world is Ares unaware of?

“Not here,” Ares says, looking around at the hustle and bustle of the city. “Can you meet us back at the office?”

“Yeah,” James confirms, but there’s still a look of deep concern and surprise on his face. For now, he simply turns away and hails a taxi.

“You really have no idea what he’s talking about?” I question as we walk back toward the bike at a quick pace.

“No idea,” Ares says, his brow deeply furrowed. “House? Allaway, Aleah, Marshals? I have no idea what any of those words are supposed to mean.”

I consider for a few moments, but none of it means anything to me either. James isn’t really that old in terms of immortality. He’s only been Resurrected for nineteen years, so it’s not like he’s significantly older than Ares, the keeper of ancient knowledge.

Without another word, Ares climbs onto the bike. I secure my helmet and climb on behind him. Ares takes off, rocketing down the street. I tighten my grip around his waist, trusting his vampiric instincts because I would never get on this bike with any normal man driving through the city like this.

Only six minutes later, we pull into the underground parking at Ares’ building. I can tell Ares’ mind is completely preoccupied when he says nothing as we walk into the building. He simply holds my hand tightly as we ride up the thirty-nine stories. He heads directly to his door when we get out on the right floor. Just as Ares is unlocking the door, the other elevator opens, and James steps out.

Once inside the office, Ares double checks that it’s empty. Considering it’s Saturday, it is. Ares nods James into his office. The three of us step inside, and as if just to be double sure no one is going to overhear this conversation, Ares closes the door.

“I’ve never heard any of these names before,” Ares says as he takes a seat at his desk. Considering the curtains are drawn in here, he removes his glasses, as does James. “Cyrus. Allaway. I’ve heard of the Steele family, but they’re all dead. What the fuck is going on, James?”

James steeples his fingers, staring at Ares over the top of them. He still looks wary over this whole situation. But his eyes turn to me, and he seems like he’s deeply contemplating something.

“Out with it, James,” Ares growls.

“I’m debating if it’s safe for Lana to hear all of this,” James blurts out, looking at me with concerned concentration. “Under normal circumstances, no way should she be privy to any of this. But since you two are engaged, and she’s going to potentially be the mother of Born children someday, I guess it’s going to have to happen at some point.”

Shit.

What the hell does James know that might put me in danger if I know it?

“Don’t worry about me,” I say, swallowing once. “I’m really not too concerned about safety, considering I have Ares around. And it sounds like something I should probably be aware of. I’m in this now.”

James holds my gaze for a moment, and I look over to Ares. A look of pride and admiration shines in his eyes.

“You said you knew about the Steele family,” James says, looking back at Ares. “How much do you know about them?”

Ares leans back in his chair as if settling in for something big. “They were a huge family who ran the vampire population in New York. For a long time. Kept everyone in line. But one of the uncles went crazy and killed everyone. Why, I don’t know. But the Barons formed shortly after that, keeping things from getting out of hand.”

James nods, and then shakes his head. “Not all of the Steeles were killed. Aleah and Duncan Steele survived. They just joined the House of Marshals a few years ago. And the Barons have zero authority over New York in the worldwide view of vampires. The House of Marshals does.”

Ares narrows his eyes at James, and from the way his jaw tightens, he doesn’t like what James is saying.

James shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable under Ares’ stare. “There are four Houses in the States. The House of Marshals is based in Boston. The House of Conrath is in Mississippi. The House of Valdez is in Las Vegas. And the House of Sidra in Washington State. Every one of them quarters up the states and rules over that region. Appointed by King Cyrus.”

Something flips in my stomach, and my blood goes cold.

“I’m sorry, did you just say King Cyrus?” I question, my brows rising.

James looks over at me, and from his expression, I can tell he still can’t believe we don’t know this information. “Shit. If you don’t know about Cyrus, you don’t even know how we came to exist, do you, Ares?”

“Haven’t given it that much deep thought,” Ares admits, albeit begrudgingly.

James wipes a hand over his face, shaking his head as he blinks three times hard. “Two thousand plus years ago, a man named Cyrus was… an experimenter. Back then, they probably would have called him a witch doctor. Now, some might say he was a scientist. But he created this… concoction that made him the ultimate predator. Stronger. Faster. Insane strength. But he was cursed for it by craving the blood of his own former kind. He became the first vampire.”

This doesn’t sound real. This sounds like a fairy tale or a scary story told to frighten children. Then again, Ares once told me about vampires, and though he said he didn’t know how they came to be, a curse was actually one possibility he mentioned.

“You’re talking about this Cyrus like he’s still alive today,” Ares points out, his look doubtful.

“He is,” James says, nodding his head. “And he still rules as king of all vampires. The fact that you don’t know about him…”

“Get over it, and keep explaining,” Ares says, his patience growing thin again.

James snaps his mouth shut and nods. It’s the most aggressive I’ve seen Ares be with someone he wasn’t about to kill, or his father. Ares does not like feeling like he’s in the dark.

“So, Cyrus had a wife, Sevan. And he really, really loved her. When he realized time no longer had a hold on him, he wanted Sevan to become like him. But she refused. She saw the monster her husband had become, and she didn’t want to be like him. But one night, Cyrus forced it on her. Turned her into what he was. What he didn’t know was that she was pregnant.”

“Monster,” I say under my breath.

“Undoubtedly,” James agrees. “Sevan was a vampire now, but the baby still grew in her. When he was born, he was totally human. And Sevan was relieved. She didn’t want him being like them. But after he grew into adulthood, he died. But four days later…”

“He Resurrected,” Ares concludes.

James nods. “He became the first Born vampire. And he recognized the potential of what they were. How they could change the world. But not with three vampires. So, this son set out to run his own experiments. He took human lovers. And eventually, some of them conceived.”

“He made his own breeding program,” I say with a sneer on my face.

“Can you blame him?” James counters, looking up at me from beneath his dark lashes. Those strange eyes of his lock on mine. Green, but nearly yellow. “If you were the first of your kind, would you not get lonely? Would you not want a family?”

“Easy for a man to say when he doesn’t have to do the hard part,” I counter him, a sour taste in the back of my throat.

He doesn’t react. He just looks back at Ares and continues. “He was successful. The Blood Father created nineteen children. And those children died when they came of age, and every one of them Resurrected as a vampire. And those of his male children managed to do the same thing.”

It makes me sick. The thought of this breeding happening, the women who were just carriers .

“The Blood Father?” Ares questions the name.

James nods. “I’ll get to that. Cyrus wanted to keep the vampires a secret. He felt they were in danger with few numbers. But he also saw power in the secrecy. He wanted to grow their family and keep it contained in their village in Austria. Bide their time in that castle.”

“Castle?” I question again.

James nods but doesn’t look at me. “But the Blood Father saw opportunity. The number of vampires was growing. And they were so much stronger than humans. He laid out plans to make their presence known, to take a position of power within the world.”

It chills me to think what this could mean. If the vampires took positions of power. If they decided to use their abilities to influence the world. It’s terrifying to consider.

“Cyrus and Sevan turned on their son,” James says, his tone cold. “They rallied some of their grandchildren, and there was a war. Family against family. Father against son. And this war raged on for years. In the end, Cyrus beheaded the Blood Father.”

Chills wash over me. But I feel something like… relief.

“Cyrus took power once again. Those who allied themselves with him, he granted power and privilege to. He made them the first Royals. Those who sided with his son, he shunned and banished. The Born. And while he rejected his son’s vision, Cyrus realized that the vampires wouldn’t stay contained. So, he granted the Royals stewardship over the world. Gave them the task of managing the vampires. And their biggest job is to keep the vampires’ secret.”

“House of Marshals,” I say as the puzzle pieces start coming together. “House of Conrath. They’re these Royals. ”

James nods. “There are really three kinds of vampires in this world. The Bitten. The Born. And the Royals. Yet the only difference between the Born and the Royals is blood. If their bloodlines track back to those certain grandchildren who sided with Cyrus. And the Born… they’re nobody to the Royals. Subjects. Cyrus erased his son’s name from history. He is known only as the Blood Father now. And there is no changing the past. No making up for the sins of the fathers. The Royals’ bloodlines are tracked. Especially the females.”

Ick. This shit keeps coming up.

“Why?” Ares questions.

James takes in a deep breath, settling back into his seat. This is a lot to explain. My brain is spinning with it all, and I’m not even sure I believe every bit of it. “Because when Cyrus forced his wife into vampirism, he cursed himself yet again, and her. He was cursed to lose that which he loved most, over and over. While Sevan was a vampire and should have been immortal, after ninety or so years, she began to wither. To starve. Blood wasn’t enough to sate her thirst. And she died.”

Ares’ brows furrow. “She starved to death?”

“Essentially,” James nods. “And the king grieved. Deeply. But fifty-one years years later, a woman came to the castle. And she had all of Sevan’s memories. She looked different, had a different name. But she remembered every detail of their life together.”

“Are you talking about reincarnation?” I gape.

Once again, James nods. “She was Sevan, reincarnated in the Royal line. And she and Cyrus were reunited for over a century. Until she withered again, and died again. And it has been a vicious cycle for two millennia now. Sevan always reincarnates in the Royal line. And so, he keeps tabs on any female Royals like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Isn’t that kind of… incest?” I ask, my nose wrinkling as I put it together. “If I’m understanding it right, every single vampire can trace their origins back to Cyrus and Sevan. So, if Sevan reincarnates in their own line, in the Royals, isn’t that their own descendants?”

James shrugs. “I guess so. But if you’ve ever studied genealogy, you’d understand how wide family trees spread, and quickly. The relation dilutes rapidly. It would hardly be any different than the relation between you and Ares.”

I look over at Ares, and while I have a moment of ew , I think James is right. When I think of how many generations there have been over two thousand years, there’s a whole lot of DNA in the gene pool.

“Sevan last died over 250 years ago,” James continues his story. “She’s never stayed dead for so long. Cyrus turns into more and more of an asshole while he searches for her. You’d be wise to stay clear of his radar at all costs. The man is a psychopath. He literally tortured the leader of the House of Conrath a few years back. He was convinced she was Sevan. And she might have led him on. He didn’t take it well when it turned out she wasn’t. Currently, he’s keeping an eye on the Royal of the House of Marshals. She’s two.”

“That’s disgusting,” I point out.

James shrugs. “I only said he’s keeping an eye on her. He will wait until she’s of age, obviously. And he’ll be keeping an eye on any other females born in the Royal lines.”

“You say the House of Marshals rules over our region, but their Royal is two. Who is her father? I assume he’s in charge?” Ares asks .

A smirk comes to James’ face. “Things are rarely that simple or straightforward when it comes to the Houses. The girl’s mother was taken against her will and inseminated by a Royal bastard she killed while she was still pregnant. Since the little girl is the rightful heir to that House, she obviously isn’t old enough. So, for now, her stepdad and her mom are pseudo in charge of a ‘House,’ along with Aleah and Duncan Steele, until she’s old enough. Thus, it’s called the House of Marshals. Because they’re keeping stewardship until she’s old enough.”

My brain is spinning. It was overwhelming when Ares told me about the reality of vampires. Little did we know that was only a tiny portion of this all. The history runs thousands of years deep and reaches into the present day.

“So, that’s what I meant when I said that Born at the apartments was going off about calling the House of Marshals and Aleah.”

Shit.

This all is way more complicated than we thought.

“I don’t think any of the Barons know about this,” Ares says. He laces his fingers together and brushes his thumb over his bottom lip. “They’re risking a war if they knew of the double coverage of the Barons and the House. So, I don’t think I’m the only ignorant idiot in New York.”

James mulls that over for a moment. “New York is shockingly unconnected with the rest of the vampiric population, with a surprisingly low number of vampires, considering the overall population. But you’re right, it would come to war if the Houses, if Cyrus, knew there was another organization trying to control the city. You need to consider the future very carefully, Ares.”

Ares continues to stare at James for several long moments, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his head right now. His whole world has just been turned upside down. “You said the House of Marshals are in Boston?”

James nods. “Elle and Lexington Dawes are the parents. They’re good, reasonable people. If you decide to talk to them, I think that would go okay. Just probably don’t mention the Barons.”

He’s quiet for a moment longer, considering this. “Is that all of it, James?” Ares asks.

James takes a moment, considering. How do you effectively cover two thousand years of history in an hour-long conversation? “I mean, there’s plenty more you could learn about the Houses, but the core of it, the basis of everything, yeah, I think that’s it.”

Ares gives a small, slight nod. “Thank you, James. This is important information, and the fact that it’s new to me, I hope you’ll understand that it’s to both our advantages to keep it to yourself.”

That sounded a bit like a threat. And from the cold, composed look on Ares’ face, I think it was.

“Understood,” James says, not balking but somehow in agreement.

“You can go,” Ares says, dismissing his assistant.

James stands. “Lana,” he says, nodding to me in goodbye. I give a little wave, and James slips out the door. Just a few seconds later, I hear him exit the office door, and it swings closed behind him.

There’s a tense moment of silence, the weight of everything hanging in the air. My eyes slide back to Ares, who is staring at the surface of his desk, not seeing anything .

“Do you believe him?” I ask first. Because I’m not totally sure that I do.

“I’m not sure what he would stand to gain by lying about it,” Ares says, his eyes snapping back up. “But I think I should probably confirm what he’s claiming. If he’s right, the Barons won’t like it.”

“I get it, the Barons are powerful and very rich,” I say, recalling every experience I’ve had with them. “But there are only six of you. Against a worldwide system of vampires. No offense, Ares, but the Barons wouldn’t stand a fucking chance if all of what James said is real.”

“You’re right,” Ares says, giving a little nod. “They could have us squashed in a day. Again, if what James says is true.”

I eye Ares, trying to read his emotions. “How are you feeling about all of this?”

Ares scrubs his hands over his face before lacing his fingers together behind his head and leaning back. “It doesn’t sound real. The fact that there’s a fucking king of vampires. Then there’s his reincarnating wife. And these Houses? It all sounds like a story, not reality. But the explanation of how vampires came to exist? I’ve kind of always thought it was some kind of curse.”

I nod. “We could confirm at least parts of it. What if we did… a drive by of this House of Marshals? We might even be able to talk to someone without drawing too much suspicion. I mean, technically, they rule over this area, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched for you to talk to them.”

Ares nods. “I think that’s a good idea. It’s, like, a four-hour drive to Boston, but that’s nothing. I?—”

He cuts off when an alert sound I’ve never heard from his phone goes off. His eyes instantly darken as he pulls it out of his pocket. “There’s been another Red party scheduled,” Ares says, his tone rising. “Friday night. This one is in SoHo.”

“Finally,” I say breathlessly.

Meeting some Royals is going to have to wait. For now, we finally have a lead.

It’s about damn time.

I’m coming, Ophelia.