Chapter 18 – Layla
The next week dragged, mostly because Thorne canceled all my public events and refused to let me leave the penthouse after the assassination attempt.
Okay, so he wasn’t really holding me prisoner. I could have left anytime, but it was the desperation in his voice that kept me inside—the way he begged me to lay low while investigating who wants to kill me.
I would do anything he asked.
Thorne is concerned about the sudden appearance of human hunters in the city. They rarely come into major cities to kill or capture supes, preferring the suburbs or small towns where supe numbers are smaller... where they’re not outnumbered by strong and magical creatures.
Unfortunately, the human we captured was no help.
The moment he woke up, and the vampire guard tasked to compel him stepped inside the cell outfitted with the power suppresser, the man started convulsing and foaming at the mouth.
Turns out, he had a kill pill inside a fake tooth and bit down on it to avoid having us look inside his head or force him to give us information about the attack.
Thorne believes I’m being targeted because of the unification plan, but it doesn’t make sense. Unless one of the new humans we’ve befriended told someone they weren’t supposed to. Like a friend or family member who’s a hunter.
While Thorne stayed busy investigating, Vara kept me company. We haven’t had much alone time together, not like what I’ve had with Thorne, so we took advantage of the hours together, fucking, talking, cuddling or watching silly television shows.
The best part was when Thorne would return home and join us on the couch.
I’ve learned that Vara enjoys reality shows about housewives because they’re dramatic.
I much prefer competition shows about baking or cooking.
When I was human, I was responsible for cooking meals for my husband.
I’d become quite good at it, and I enjoyed the time I had to myself.
No harsh hands, no cruel words. Just me, food, and a fire to cook it on.
Thorne likes crime documentaries, which I’m not a fan of. Humans are so vile. To think some of them find us to be the evil monsters.
Okay, so supernaturals don’t have the best track record either, but for the most part, we’re no longer dangerous to humans. For many of our kind—like me—we rely on them for sustenance. They don’t need to die or be abused for that.
It’s now Thursday, just before midnight, and we’re heading to the Upper East Side to meet with Rorik.
“So do we complete the bond tonight after Rory explains everything?” I ask, my leg bouncing as we sit in the back of the SUV.
Thorne places his palm on my thigh, and it’s as if a shot of calm is jolted throughout my body. I relax against the seat and offer him a thankful sigh.
“I’ll have to look at my schedule and move things around, but yes. Why not?” Vara says.
We expect to be out of commission for a month—at least—after completing the bond. It varies. For some supes, it could be days. Others, it might take two months to feel... satisfied. We need to be prepared for however long it takes to solidify our connection.
I squeeze my legs together, thinking about all the fucking we’ll be doing. Thorne raises a brow at me, since I’ve trapped his hand between my legs.
“So eager for us,” he whispers before kissing the top of my head.
“I am eager. Are you two not?”
“Are you kidding me?” Vara scoffs. “Can you not hear my heart? I’m nervous as hell. How do we know the bond will even work? What if we all have to be in love? I mean, I’m sure I love you both. I definitely like you two a lot.”
“So romantic,” I tease.
She tosses up her arms, her tail flicking around and nearly hitting me in the eye.
“I just mean... how would the bond know? Would we have to say the words? Would we have to show it somehow with some self-sacrificing deed?”
I burst into giggles, and Vara narrows her eyes at me.
“I’m sorry, am I amusing you?”
I bite my lip attempting to control my fit of laughter. “I love when you’re nervous and vulnerable. It makes you seem almost human.”
“How dare you. Take it back.”
That only makes me laugh harder, and Thorne joins in. I wouldn’t say we’ve lost our minds... I think we’re just on edge. The fated mate bond has been gnawing at us… growing stronger every day we fail to complete it, so every little thing we do is exaggerated.
Like yesterday, Thorne blew his load simply by making out with me.
Our laughter slowly dies just in time for the SUV to pull in front of a building across from Central Park along Fifth Avenue. It’s a simple-looking building, about fifteen stories tall, stuck between two other buildings with an off-white brick facade.
Nothing I’d expect the First Vampire to reside in.
Inside, a doorman greets us. He’s expecting us and leads us to a private elevator off to the side. He inputs a code into a display and exits. A few seconds later, the doors close, and we’re taken to the top floor.
We enter the apartment, which is a duplex. The first room is a sitting or reading area with a single chaise lounge and a fireplace along the green wall. There’s a spiral staircase on the opposite side of the room.
“Welcome,” Rorik says, suddenly appearing.
Thorne balls his fists at his sides and mumbles something about ‘fucking vampire speed.’
Rory scans our group, one of his thick eyebrows rising at the two additional bodyguards Thorne brought with us.
“Would you like a tour?”
“Yes,” I say at the same time Vara says, “No.”
“Something to drink?”
“No,” Thorne and I say at the same time Vara says, “Yes.”
Rorik smiles, the expression almost appearing foreign on the face of a vampire known to keep to the shadows.
“Follow me,” Rory says, giving me a wink before turning to take us down a hallway.
I push Thorne behind me, knowing he was about to murder Rorik over that harmless wink, and follow the elder vamp.
He points out a few bedrooms and a bathroom before we stop in the kitchen.
He makes a drink for Vara, not even asking her what she wants.
He hands her a glass of vibrant golden booze, and she raises a brow after taking a sip.
“Remy Martin Black Pearl. How did you know this is my favorite?”
Thorne growls, and Vara grabs his hand. “It’s okay, Thorne. This vampire is not a threat to you.”
He winces. The protectiveness has become worse after the attempted hit on my life. Nearly every day, I’ve had to calm him down from wanting to rip someone’s throat out. I’m pretty sure he would kick someone into an oncoming bus for merely looking at either of us.
“Your nightclubs always have the best liquor,” Rory says. “This cognac is the only one you keep on the shelves but don’t offer it on the menu.”
“Very observant.” Vara shrugs. “But it is for sale. I only offer it to high-profile supes. If the so-called first vampire had just mentioned his name to any of my bartenders, he would have been served.”
“Good to know.” He chuckles and turns to lead us into the living space.
It’s compact but cozy, the walls in here also green.
The vamp loves green, that’s for sure. A white couch sits in front of a brick fireplace with two matching white arm chairs on either side.
A painting hangs over the fireplace of a vampire fucking what appears to be a human woman who’s feasting on a female gargoyle’s cunt.
“You like it,” he asks me.
It’s not a question. He knows I like it because he can smell my arousal. Not to mention my fangs have dropped.
“It's me and my mates,” he says.
Our heads slowly turn away from the painting to Rorik who continues to stare at the erotic scene.
“I met them 2,200 years ago when I lived in what is now modern-day Croatia. I was 800 years undead.”
“How did you become the first vampire?” Vara asks, sitting on the middle cushion of the couch. Thorne and I take a spot on either side of her.
“Ah, yes. You’d like for all the rumors and urban legends to be put to rest. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you. I remember waking up with an undying thirst, cold skin, and fangs. No memories of my life before.”
He finally looks away from the painting and sits in one of the arm chairs. There’s a coffee table between us with a stack of architecture magazines and books about witchcraft.
Interesting mix of reading material.
“Sounds like the work of a witch,” I say, pointing at one of his books.
“I thought so too, but I sought their help in those first few years hoping for answers. They tried to reverse what happened to me or to at least ease my thirst. Sadly, nothing worked. Even more unfortunate is killing every single witch who tried to help me. I knew it was wrong, I didn’t want to kill them, but the monster inside me was uncontrollable.
My thirst was unbearable... unending... I tried to keep my victims alive, but it was too difficult at first. It took about 300 years before I learned to control myself. ”
“Since you were the first vampire, you obviously created others,” I say, fascinated to learn the history of my kind. To fill in the missing pieces of the lore. “How did you figure out the turning process?”
“By my 800th year on this earth, immortality had become quite boring, so... I experimented. It wasn’t until I gave my blood to a human on the brink of death that the turn took. I sired my first fledgling. Portia.
“Portia was just as uncontrollable as I had been, maybe worse. She went on to turn dozens of vampires. The undead population was growing too fast, to a point that I killed Portia myself and any other vampire I could find. That’s when I met Brynn.
She was a gargoyle protecting a small village.
She’d heard about me, my reign on humans, and all the new vampires my fledgling had created.
Brynn tried to kill me, not caring that I was attempting to right my wrongs. ”
He smiles at the memory, and my heart clenches. It’s clear his mates are no longer alive, and he’s still mourning them.