Ranson, Tracy L. - Prince of Night [Bloodborn 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  Bloodborn 1

  Prince of Night

  Club Inferno was a busy nightclub filled with people looking for a good time. All Raphael looked for was a meal. He scanned the crowded room and found nothing to satisfy his appetite. That was until he saw her, his beloved Elizabeth.

  Liz Quartermaine couldn't understand why she was at Inferno. Nightclubs weren't her scene, actually she had no scene. Mousy with thick glasses and waist, she knew she didn't belong.

  That was until the darkly mysterious stranger across the bar captured her attention.

  Genre: Paranormal/Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 46,749 words

  PRINCE OF NIGHT

  Bloodborn 1

  Tracy L. Ranson

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

  PRINCE OF NIGHT

  Copyright © 2009 by Tracy L. Ranson

  E-book ISBN: 1-60601-225-8

  First E-book Publication: March 2009

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2009 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  DEDICATION

  To John, my husband. Thank you for being the wonderful man you are and for teaching me what love truly is.

  To Mary Lou, you are really important to me, not just as a web designer but also as a great friend.

  PRINCE OF NIGHT

  TRACY L. RANSON

  Copyright © 2009

  Chapter 1

  Thick wafts of cigarette smoke filled Club Inferno, the hottest nightspot in Morrisonville. Dance music, a mix of hip-hop and techno, blared from the giant sound system originating from the wiry DJ working the CDs in the booth. Fake devils and flames comprised the décor with shades of red and crimson throughout. Humans could be, at best, simple creatures. Surely, they could have come up with something more provocative than visions of hell.

  Raphael Chamberlain surveyed the room with narrowed, hooded eyes. So far, no one deserved to die tonight. Oh, sure, there were a few pervs, perps and cheaters out there looking for a good lay but nothing to lose their lives over. He only fed on those who truly contained the blackest of souls with a mark for death.

  "Nothing suits you, I see.” Alexandra swept yards of long black hair over her shoulder as she looked around the bar herself. Her ethics were questionable and didn’t match his. Who was he to say? She fed on who she pleased. He always made sure that her meals were those who deserved what they got. It wasn’t easy in his position to keep the others in line.

  He leaned back and stretched out his long, denim-encased legs underneath their table nestled in a darker part of the bar. He preferred the blackest part of shadows. They were much safer than being out in the open. "Not a damn thing." His voracious hunger didn’t gnaw at him tonight as it normally did. Why, he wasn't sure.

  Egyptian-born Nicholas joined in on the mirth. "Our dear Raphael isn't in the mood tonight for a little fun, I suppose."

  "There's more to life than a good fuck." He scanned the room once again to see if anyone else had entered worth eating. His senses returned nothing. No one else entered worth taking.

  Damn.

  Why did he keep searching? There was nothing worth eating here. He snickered. It reminded him of a story someone once told him of the humans: If they were bored, they had a tendency to go to the refrigerator to find something to eat. When nothing suited them, they closed the door only to return several minutes later under the conclusion that something new had appeared. "I’m tired of this place. Let’s go somewhere else."

  A sudden unfamiliar heaviness invaded the room and diverted his attention. His senses flared. That normally only happened if another vampire had entered the same bar. None of the other vampires, save the two at his side, ventured to this side of town. So why was he feeling this way?

  Turning toward the main source of the strange feeling, Raphael caught the eye of a young woman at the bar. There was really nothing unusual about her. Mousy hair slipped past her shoulders, clipped at the crown by what the humans called a barrette. Thick, black-rimmed glasses covered her eyes, perched on a nearly perfect nose. Lush full lips resided underneath, the color of dew-covered roses. He sat up straight, his gaze scraping up and down her body slowly. What was it about her that drew his attention?

  Alexandra's Spanish-lilted laughter broke through his thoughts. "It looks like Raphael has finally found something."

  "Screw you, Alex." He watched the woman with his predatory gaze. Her movements were a little nervous and stilted, almost as if she was completely out of her element. From the vibe she was giving off, more than likely she was.

  "Who's the lucky woman?" Nicholas joined in, his annoying laughter mingling with Alex's. He ignored their under-the-breath comments. They knew better than to piss him off, especially since he was the Guardian of the Northern area. Since his appointment to the sheriff-like position, he had become a vampire of great power and all bowed to his demands. Alex and Nicholas were his seconds in command. Drake and Siobhan rounded out the council that oversaw the trials of the vampires of the sector. He was the sole judge while the others had been relegated to the roles of jury. They alone decided the fates of rogue vampires.

  He said nothing as he watched the strangely familiar woman. Her long fingers, tipped with well-manicured nails, danced around the rim of her glass. She stared at the atmosphere around her with frightened, wide eyes. Fright radiated from in her a large swell. What was she doing here?

  Behind him, he could hear Nicholas and Alex's banal conversation. He ignored them. He remained fixed on the intriguing young woman. There was definitely something about her that he couldn't quite place.

  Closing his eyes, he probed her mind. He tapped into her innermost secrets in search of the key to her essence. From what he could see, she was a very shy, insecure woman, especially abou
t her looks. Why did she feel this way? Probing deeper, he viewed her memories, feeling a little like a thief doing so.

  She had a normal childhood, along with doting parents. Unfortunately, she was the only child and, in her eyes, not even remotely pretty. Digging ever deeper, he saw that she suffered from horrible nightmares. What caused them?

  Let me see.

  Like a ghost rising from the mist of the Moors, those dreams made their presence known. In her most horrific nightmare, the woman was in the clutches of a creature not of this earth, dying the same way his beloved had died.

  His eyes flew wide open as his chest constricted. His hard belly tensed as if a rock slammed into it. No, it couldn't be!

  His beloved Elizabeth had returned from the grave.

  Alex’s black brows knitted together in concern when she saw his face. "What's wrong, Raphael?"

  Nicholas jabbed him in the arm. "He's got a case of the I-need-to-get-laid-blues."

  "I don't believe it." Raphael couldn’t drag his attention away from the woman even if he wanted to. His fists clenched. “I don’t fucking believe it.”

  "Don't believe what?"

  Raphael swallowed the hard lump in his throat. "It's Elizabeth."

  * * * *

  Liz Quartermaine stared at the roaring crowd in Club Inferno as her uneasiness grew. This wasn't her scene at all. As a matter of fact, she had no scene. She'd only come here on the advice of one of her students in order to placate her curiosity.

  Ha! Some advice. There was nothing here that intrigued her.

  Her belly tightened into a knot, as it always did when she sensed someone watching her. Warily, she searched the crowded club until she connected to the most beautiful pair of green eyes she had ever seen. The man behind them was almost as stunning. Casually tousled black hair trailed over his broad, well-muscled shoulders and framed his aristocratic face. She blinked hard. Was he staring at her?

  Liz turned around, searching for the obvious target of his attention. There simply had to be a Playboy model standing behind her shoulder whom he was interested in.

  She looked.

  Nothing.

  Then who was he staring at?

  She turned back and found his gaze burning as intensely as before. She shivered. Why was he staring in her direction? Surely he wasn't looking at her?

  Her breath caught in her throat as she caught his hypnotic stare. White cotton swathed his upper body and outlined every muscle and plane. He leaned back casually in his chair and stretched his long legs out, crossing them at the ankles. His hands cradled his head as he stared at her through half-closed eyes. This move forced her to look at the rest of him.

  Dark blue denim encased his muscular legs and wrapped around his slim waist. She shivered. Did he possess six-pack abs under his tight shirt?

  Despite her better judgment, she kept staring. She couldn't help noticing the obvious bulge between his legs. How big of a cock lay beneath the strained denim?

  Liz shook her head. She shouldn’t be thinking like that. After all, she’d never find out, would she?

  A shudder passed through her. The heat in her face intensified. Why did she feel this way? The stranger could not even remotely be interested in her.

  Picking up her glass, she drained the last of the contents and set it on the bar.

  "Would you like another drink, ma'am?" the bartender shouted over the noise.

  Before she answered, she looked over to where the gorgeous hunk sat and saw with horror he’d stood up and was striding toward her with a confident air.

  Fear took over and made her move fast. "No, thanks." She slammed a ten-dollar bill on the glossy oak bar. "Keep the change."

  She shouldered her purse and hurried out the door. Once she hit the fresh air, she stopped and leaned against the building, her head in her hand. Why was she acting like a silly schoolgirl? The man was not interested in her so why did she leave so fast when it looked like he was coming over to her? Tears stained her eyes. Part of her wished he would come over. The humiliation of him passing her by was almost more than she could take.

  "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a drunken voice slurred from the shadows near the side of the club.

  Her blood froze as the terror inside of her rose to new heights. "I— I— was just leaving." She pushed away from the wall as her heart slammed inside of her chest. If she was lucky, he’d let her pass by without incident

  "You ain't going nowhere, baby," the voice sneered as a man emerged from the shadows followed by six other men.

  Liz put her hands up and retreated slightly. Sweat lightly beaded her forehead as the moisture in her mouth dried up. Her temples pulsed. "Please, don't hurt me." She held out her purse. "Just take my money and go."

  "We're gonna take more than that." The wretched man leered at he with a hungry stare as he came closer while his friends formed a circle so that she couldn't break free. "Aren't we, boys?"

  The rest of them murmured in excitement and encouraged her anxiety to get the best of her. "Let me go!" She tried to free herself from the circle of terror.

  "No way, fat baby.” He stepped forward and gripped the upper part of her blouse, ripping downward with a vicious yank. Her large breasts, encased in lace cotton, ventured out. "Let's get them clothes off so we can have some fun."

  Hands, greedy and demanding, tore at her and pulled her hair along with her clothing. Her screams went unheard, the music from the smoky club drifting outside, drowning her out completely. Would anyone save her from them?

  "Leave the woman alone. She belongs to me," ordered a male voice in a clipped, British accent from the left.

  Their attack halted as they turned to look. "Who are you to tell us what ta do, asshole?" challenged one of them, his hand brandishing a switchblade. "Come on over here if ya think ya man enough."

  "As you wish."

  The stranger's swift movements knocked the blade from his hand and the man went down as the sickening crunch of bone filled the air followed by howls of pain.

  Liz breathed a sigh of relief. Her savior was the exact same man who stared at her inside the club. Thankfully, he had decided to leave at the same time, or perhaps he had found his lay for the night. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for it.

  "Hey, that's our bro," the scroungy leader of the pack warned as he stepped forward, getting out his own blade. "You're gonna pay for that, fucker."

  The criminal's arm swung to the left and narrowly missed her strange rescuer. Mr. Model stepped backwards and avoided the first swipe. Not the second. Blood poured from a wound in his belly. He stopped and looked down before raising his head again. A black mask of rage descended over his features. "Look at what you have done to me."

  "It ain't nothing compared to what I'm gonna do to you," the criminal sneered.

  Her rescuer’s handsome face strangely disappeared, replaced by that of a demon. Red eyes glared out from beneath darkened lids, the teeth white and shiny through a set of crimson lips. Where the teeth should have been, resided a pair of fangs that appeared as sharp and lethal as a cat's.

  The horror inside of her mounted. Who was this man?

  All of the criminals paled. "What are you?" their once ferocious leader demanded.

  "Your worst nightmare." The stranger stared hotly at the drunkard and waved his hand at the rest. "None of you will move until your justice has been handed out."

  She couldn't take it anymore. Her world spun and her legs weakened. Before she knew what happened, everything turned black.

  * * * *

  Raphael caught her voluptuous body in his arms before she could fall to the ground. The miscreants stood stock-still with their mouths frozen in silent shock. He grinned slightly. Their punishment would soon be handed out.

  He turned to Alex and Nicholas and gestured to his captives. "Both of you start and I'll join you once I know that Elizabeth is safe."

  Alex licked her full lips as her fangs descended, ready for action. "If you go hungry toni
ght, that's your fault. I told you earlier that I was starving."

  "Me too." Nick rubbed his flat belly affectionately. "I'm always in the mood for a good bite."

  With that, they descended on the bunch like a pack of ravenous dogs, with the familiar crunch of their teeth descending into flesh and the moans of ecstasy at such an overabundance of a meal rising in the night air.

  Raphael lifted Elizabeth effortlessly and took her to a nearby patch of grass well beyond the sight of the others and deep in the shadows of the club. He laid her down gently and stared into the face he’d longed to see for centuries. His cock lengthened in his jeans. The pain was excruciating.

  Elizabeth had returned.

  Brushing the wild hair from her forehead, he reminisced on how long it had been since Elizabeth had relished his embrace. Almost two hundred and fifty years. He frowned. Had it really been that long?

  He knelt on one knee next to her and stared at her face. Even the bone structure was the same. The hair and eye color were different yet in the modern age, both could be changed very easily if she wanted to.

  His hand touched her cheek gently, causing her to stir. Her eyes fluttered for a moment and turned to look at him. She started to scream.

  The time had come for a bit of glamour. He waved a hand over her face. "Don't make a sound."

  At once, she halted her cries, her body as rigid as a board. "Who— who are you?" she gasped.

  Raphael brushed his hands over her eyes. "This is all a dream, Elizabeth. Return to the depths of sleep."

  Her eyes instantly closed, her breathing returning to normal.

  He let out a sigh of relief. She had seen his true form and it would not endear him to her if she knew his true nature, at least for the moment. It was best that she remained glamored. Later, when she knew who she was, she would accept him for what he was.

  His fingers stroked her arm, feeling the smooth skin that hadn't changed either. He remembered her silky thighs as they wrapped around his waist each time he drove into paradise.

  Raphael searched her mind and found what he needed. Her address. Raphael’s lips spread into a satisfied smile. The time to taste her again had been a long time in coming.