Hunted Blood: A Love Triangle Vampire Romance (Beautiful Innocence Book 2)

Chapter 2 – Alex

The thing about being a dead, eternal being is that I’m not supposed to find the darkness uncomfortable. When I wake, I expect to find the woman who’s quickly become the sun in my life wrapped in my arms, but the bed is cold and empty without her.

For the first time in years, it feels as though the darkness has taken something dear to me. Snuffed out the only light I had left. My discomfort penetrates deep into my withered soul.

“Lorianna?” I call out. My voice echoes against the stone walls, and that’s the only reply I receive.

The nest of blankets and pillows Lorianna and I shared in the early hours of the morning wrap around me like additional layers of skin, each of them veiled in the scent of her lavender shampoo. I push up and lean against the wall, searching for her. Racks of old vintage bottles line the room and form neat rows, some empty but more filled with untouched bottles and cobwebs likely older than me.

A slight ache burns through my torso from the spot Ivan Morozov shot me. I roll my shoulders back, feeling the muscles torn apart by the barbed tip now almost entirely healed from the meticulous healing of my vampiric abilities over the past few hours.

Ivan missed the kill shot by just a few inches, but the holy water would have finished me off if I hadn’t been able to feed before dawn.

If it wasn’t for Lorianna, I would be dead.

She acted like letting me drink from her was no big deal, but it was an enormous display of trust and love. Not necessarily the romantic kind of love, although given what transpired between us emotionally in those few moments we were connected that way, it’s possible that’s exactly how she feels—even if she doesn’t know it yet.

How do I feel about her?

The light in my darkness. That’s what I’ve always called Lorianna, but I never voiced the words out loud until last night. Did she believe anything I said? Could she, after I sucked her blood to sustain myself?

Many vampires in a position of power such as myself consume blood on the regular; daily, even, to power our unnatural strength and simply because we can. I don’t care to. I’ve gone back and forth over the last century with overconsumption and underconsumption as my principles wavered, but for the past twenty years or so, I’ve held back as much as possible from indulging in my primal needs. These past few weeks, I’ve had to indulge more frequently just to sate myself enough not to dream about drinking Lorianna’s blood.

She had stared me down with such determination when she offered me her wrist, having only the faintest idea of what she was getting into, but I couldn’t say no when waiting even a few more minutes more could have been the difference between my life and death.

Because of her, I realized I was not as ready for the embrace of the true dark as I thought.

As my fingers trailed along her wrist in search of the perfect spot to pierce her, I could barely contain myself. I vividly recall the erotic flutter of her pulse; she wasn’t afraid. If she had been, I wouldn’t have bitten her.

And when her blood rushed into my mouth… she was, is, exquisite. Finer than the most luxurious Cabernet Sauvignon. I lost all sense to the need to taste more of her. I drank and drank and drank, succumbing to an eternity of blackness of just me and Lorianna. In her blood, in the intimate tremble of her heart, I felt the physical manifestation of her desire. Rather than fear, she hummed with the thrilling sensuality of being fed on. I still feel everything we shared in that moment. The warmth of her blood, the way she arched back and subdued a moan, and everything else left unsaid.

I’ve never wanted her as much as I do now.

Now that I’ve had a taste of her, I’m not sure I can go back to drinking any lesser blood. The taste of her still lingers on my tongue, the sweetness of blackberries and cinnamon, and I salivate at the thought of having more of her. I want to peek into her mind and uncover what fantasies have been stewing there all these years. To finally make her mine.

My tongue wisps across my teeth. I wish I’d woken up to her sweet face, and it’s a lance to the heart that she didn’t stay. She saved me, she fell asleep in my arms. I felt the way she wanted me to touch her, equal to her hesitation to me doing so. Drinking from her made it seem like I could interpret her in ways I couldn’t before, but what if I was wrong?

I’m letting my thoughts get ahead of me, I know.

Lorianna isn’t a nocturnal being as I am; if she woke before I did, she was likely too restless to go back to sleep, or perhaps she needed food and exercise.

I retrieve my phone, hoping Lorianna left a message for me, but there’s nothing. It’s only noon, so it’s not entirely normal for me to be awake at this hour, regardless. For all I know, she could be waiting upstairs for me to rise at dusk, perhaps taking in the damage done to her home and deciding how to handle it all. I don’t envy the job ahead of her. I’ll do whatever I can to help her once I know for sure whether she’s safe from Aurelius.

The chaos hit just before dawn, locking the two of us in the house alone after Enzo left to find his own meal. When night falls again, my world will become very interesting, to say the least. I suspect Enzo immediately told Aurelius about the vampire hunter attack. The two of them must have been scheming about what to do now that our coven has been discovered by vampire hunters. Enzo will downplay the fucking disaster by bragging that he slew Ivan Morozov, the legendary vampire hunter who has been harassing Aurelius and our coven for decades.

Then he wouldn’t waste another breath before blaming me for the attack and demanding that Aurelius support him in his quest to enact revenge on Olivia’s murderers. He deserves retribution for his wife, but ultimately, my concern is the inevitable: now that the vampire hunters have confirmed our involvement with the Monroe Investment Group, the company will be dissolved. Every human who knows about vampires will be terminated alongside the company.

That means Lorianna and Gilbert, her father, for sure. Shit. Shit.

I check my phone again. Still nothing from Lorianna.

Alex: Lori, I’m awake.

Alex (ten minutes later): Are you around? We need to talk. It’s urgent.

Minutes tick by, and my foot jiggles with my growing anxiety. I don’t know how the fuck I forgot to tell her about this existential threat earlier when she was here with me. It doesn’t matter if I was hanging on by a thread or thought we’d have today to discuss it.

She’s in danger from multiple sides now, and she needed to know.

Aurelius has never spared any humans involved with a terminated business. I might be able to convince him to make an exception for Lorianna since she didn’t know anything about our dealings until last night, but the argument will be much less convincing if I don’t have her in my custody. Otherwise, I know he will reason she’s untrustworthy since she ran away after discovering the truth.

I lay back against the couch cushions and hide my head beneath a blanket. It will be at least another ten hours before I can safely leave the cellar, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. Whatever Enzo and Aurelius’ plan is now, I need to act, and quickly. Gilbert will be my first move.

Alex: Daybreak alert.

Gilbert: Fuck. Are you sure?

Alex: Certain.

My cell rings, and I answer his call.

“Tell me you have Lori.” A hint of panic creeps into his usual professional tone. “She’s not responding to my calls.”

“I did, but she learned the truth last night. She left while I was sleeping, and I haven’t tracked her down yet.”

“You knew the danger, and you didn’t fucking restrain her? You made me a promise, Arcien, and you better keep it or so help me—”

“Have I failed you before?”

Gilbert sighs so deeply, I can feel his defeat. “No. We’ve prepared for this possibility, but I thought we had years…”

“Everything is going to be okay. If Miss Lorianna didn’t leave temporarily, she must have been confused or scared, and her most likely destination will be to see you. I suggest you stay put in the meantime and see if she shows up within the next few hours. If she does, leave with her immediately to a safe location.”

“Understood. Thank you. Let me know if you hear from her.”

“Likewise.”

The call goes dead, and I am more exhausted now than I was when I was inches from death. If I’m to ensure Gilbert’s safety as well as Lorianna’s without alerting Aurelius to any treachery or enduring his wrath, the next few days will be the most strenuous I’ve lived in years.

I will do everything in my power to help them now that Aurelius threatens to let the guillotine fall.

My memories are brought back to over twenty years ago when our coven was still operating out of New York. Back then, Aurelius’ puppet company was Coast Financial, operated by a man called Daniel Bankset, who used his wealth to do horrible things to people for entertainment. In a way, he wasn’t that much different from Aurelius and Enzo or any other vampire, and I was glad when Ivan Morozov caught up to us and the company was dissolved. After all the shit he did, I had zero sympathy when Daniel and his associates were slaughtered.

It’s a different story now with the Monroe Investment Group. Clearly, Lorianna has changed me, just as her mother did.

There’s so much I must tell her. So many stories left unshared, endless possibilities left untapped. She’s the first in decades who I’ve felt as though I could open up to, if and when she’s ready.

I close my eyes, let my breath pull through my body, and out again. I will sleep to return to me, but when I sink into the blankets, Lorianna’s gorgeous blue-green eyes flash in the darkness.

My feelings for her haven’t changed. What has changed is my willingness to hold back. Now that I’m sure she wants me the way I want her, MIG is about to dissolve, and Luke is no longer in my way, why should I?

I have everything I want. Everything I need except for her guaranteed safety.

Night has a distinct taste to it. A crispness in the air, a shadow of what could be, what has been now that the sun is gone. I find my phone tangled in the blankets with me, but my conversation with Lorianna is just as silent as it was when I fell asleep. She hasn’t even seen the message I sent her hours ago.

Neither have there been any more texts or calls from Gilbert.

It’s well past 10 pm now, safe for me to rise from the dead and learn what’s become of the world. If there’s no news from Gilbert, is it because Lorianna came to him as I predicted she would and he got caught up in escaping with her, or has something gone horribly wrong?

It could go either way, and now I have a responsibility to find out.

I climb the stairs that lead into the large pantry at the back of the Monroe estate near the kitchen. It seems strange that Lorianna hasn’t replied. Young people these days are attached to their mobile devices like a fifth limb. Lorianna has explained in the past that it’s such a problem that if a message goes unread in the middle of the day for longer than a few hours, it’s likely a point of you being intentionally ignored.

I laughed at the time about the politics people play with their digital devices, but recalling that memory stings. I’ve been ‘left unread’ as she called it. The problem is I don’t think Lorianna is that kind of person—she doesn’t like to play mind games, not the kind that hurt other people. She’s far too gentle of a soul. It’s easier to believe that her phone is dead, or she found her dad and he’s told her everything she needs to do to keep safe for now.

I tap the dial button, and my phone attempts to call her, but there’s an offensive beeping sound with a CUSTOMER NOT AVAILABLE audio, and then the call ends.

As I leave the kitchen, I’m hit with the distinct smell of blood.

I take a long drag of the air. The coppery scent is old, dried into the floorboards, and spattered down the hallway. There are holes in the walls where there were once paintings of Lorianna and her mother and landscapes from across the country. Shards of glass are scattered everywhere, and they shine in the faint glow of the moon as I walk past the pieces of Lorianna’s life scattered on the floor.

I move through the destruction without making a noise, taking in the extent of the damage and searching for any signs of Lorianna. Every room has overturned furniture, wooden chairs broken and used as weapons, dishes and ornaments thrown about the house. If I wasn’t so intimately aware of what had gone down last night, one could easily be misled to think it had been a particularly severe domestic dispute or a burglar searching for hidden valuables.

I want to be smug that this will be the nail that finally sends Luke’s relationship with Lorianna into the ground, but it’s hard to feel any satisfaction when I recall so clearly how pained her cries were when I told her the news. She was so broken that Luke was the one who had ruined the life she knew.

After this, I might finally have the excuse I need to kill him. If I eliminate him entirely, that will prevent any chance of him digging his claws any deeper into her heart. At the same time, I’d free my coven from a nuisance.

It wouldn’t be a kill out of impulse but a kill out of necessity.

Lorianna wouldn’t approve, of course. That’s the only reason I don’t seek him out now. But if I ever lay my eyes on him again…

When I’m sure Lorianna is nowhere to be found downstairs, I climb the spiral staircase to the second floor and head to her bedroom. Her four-poster bed is neatly made, and the feminine potions left on the vanity are lined in perfect rows. The tidiness seems so out of place, remaining untouched after the destruction wrought downstairs. Several articles of clothing are dumped on the floor outside of the closet rather than in the hamper two feet away, which isn’t like Lorianna at all.

Closer to her dresser, a glint on the floor catches my eye. Gold.

I crouch and find a few pieces of a broken chain scattered on the carpet, as well as a longer strand with rubies attached. As soon as I see them, I know these are broken pieces from Carmen’s necklace. It was one of her favorite pieces, and it nearly brought Lorianna to tears when I gave it to her at Gilbert’s request—and Lorianna was wearing it around her neck last night.

Now it’s here on the floor.

Lorianna would never break it intentionally, no matter how she feels about me. A spike of anxiety impales me at the possibility she was taken by force, but no, that doesn’t track. Had there been a commotion upstairs or she cried for help, I would have heard it. I would have risked the sun to help her.

She left of her own free will.

The possibility brings the stab of pain at her mistrust back at full force. She left in such a hurry that she broke this treasure on her way out.

Did I do something to make her feel unsafe?

I expected a little wariness when I told her that I’m a vampire, but Lorianna seemed surprised, not afraid. I roll the golden chain and the few small rubies in my palm. Without any word from her or Gilbert, my next destination is obvious. I just hope they are long gone from the hospital when I arrive.