Heavenly Blood (Roseville Vampires, #2)

  Copyright © 2013 by Brighton Hill

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real people or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, things, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons, or things, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Heavenly Blood

  Roseville Vampires

  Brighton Hill

  Chapter One

  As the party drew on in the castle ballroom, Radley Aston watched the way the light of the crystal chandeliers overhead sparkled against Violet’s body. She brushed past him with a hint of desire in her blue eyes. That light touch made his jaw clench and the blood rush into his muscular chest like hot fire. His nostrils flared. Her scent was sweeter than the aroma of red roses that perfumed the impressive room. He yearned to feel her luscious lips against his once again and to run his hand up those sexy vampire legs of hers. His mind was running wild with all the possibilities now that they were both heavenly killers.

  Violet met her sister, Ariel, and her classmate, Drew, beside the dance floor where the Crimson Devils and the Night Ryders gangs were getting wild with the festivities. Ariel broke away from Nathan’s arm as he guzzled down a bottle of beer and threw it in the air, catching the nozzle between his lips like some sort of trickster.

  “Oh my God!” Ariel breathed as Violet kissed her on her cold cheeks. “You don’t know how crazy worried I was about you.” Her brown hair was tied into a loose pony tail and she was dressed in tight jeans, a tank top, and cowboy boots in defiance even though it was a formal dinner party.

  They embraced. “Damn, you feel as hard as steel.” Ariel squeezed her sister tighter.

  Violet giggled. “I’m not used to it yet.”

  Waltzing up from behind, Drew ran her fingernails through Violet’s long black hair that draped in cascading waves down her back.

  At her touch, Violet swung around, her eyes wide before her red lips lifted into a smile.

  Facing her now, Drew’s blue eyes warmed. “You’re safe, so have no fears.” A smirk formed on her fine sculpted face as she draped the sides of Violet’s hair over each of her shoulders. “That looks better—as beautiful as a slutty princess.”

  Violet giggled again and hugged her. “You are my best friend ever.”

  “Ditto.” Drew smiled wide now, showing her perfect white teeth as she pulled her into her arms warmly. With her long blond hair and fine features she was as lovely as an angel, especially in the short white cocktail dress she was wearing. Her legs were a mile long.

  Ariel joined in on the hug and whispered to the girls, “Now that Drew turned you, Violet, Lord Dyson can’t molest and kill you like he had planned.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Violet said, her hands falling from their shoulders down to the sides of her black dress. “But from the way he has been watching me, I’m not so sure.” A wave of nausea washed over her.

  “Oh, don’t be afraid,” Drew spoke quietly as she glanced over at Lord Dyson and his wife sitting at the long dinner table. “Soon he will likely invite you into our coven. Then we will all be one big, happy family.”

  Violet glanced over at Radley. Lewis, Shark, Henry, and Nathan had lifted him into the air by his chair and were raising him up and down on the dance floor. He shook his head like he was bored and cocked a dark brow, but then his eyes bored into Violet’s causing her cheeks to burn. Suddenly, he jumped up onto the chair top and started waving his hands in the air to the music and throwing his head back as he yelled out like a madman. At that, he took a sort of running jump and threw himself upwards into a somersault midair landing on his feet upon the marbled floor. Without hesitation, he ran over to Violet and swept her up into his arms.

  The girls all laughed and said things like “You’re the cutest couple ever.” And “Get a room already.”

  But as they were all joking around with each other, Lord Dyson approached. “Well, hello, Violet,” he said in his low voice as he placed his hand on her shoulder. Lord Dyson’s eyes drifted over her new hot body clad in a racy black gown with a slit at the side that showed off her long legs.

  Her body shivered at his touch. Now that she was a vampire every physical sensation felt more potent, but his just felt creepy. For reassurance, she looked at Radley, but his eyes were piercing as he stared at Lord Dyson with his chest out and his chin lifted. She had never seen him look so angry.

  Ariel put her hand on Radley’s shoulder as if to remind him to not do anything stupid. But then Nathan and Lewis pulled Ariel and Drew out on the dance floor.

  “Congratulations on a successful party,” Lord Dyson continued, ignoring Radley and all the excitement on the dance floor. A crooked grin lifted on his perfectly sculpted face. He was a handsome, dark haired, young looking man that was converted in his early twenties. “Even if you had not converted to our kind, I would have freed you. Under my care, your life would never be in danger.” He smiled softly now and without further discussion, he walked over to one of his guards and whispered in his ear before rejoining his beautiful young wife at the dinner table.

  What was that about, Violet wondered? He is such a liar. The idea of Lord Dyson becoming her adopted father sent chills up her spine.

  From across the ballroom, Lord Dyson gazed at Violet with cold eyes as he placed his folded hands on the table. Looking at her husband and then at Violet, Madame Dyson tossed her dark hair with a smile and set her hand on top of his. But Lord Dyson’s jaw clenched ever so slightly as he pulled away. Violet didn’t know what he was thinking, but she suspected his mind was reeling with machinations. By turning into a vampire, she had humiliated him. Her throat tightened at the thought.

  With that in mind, she glanced at Radley, but he was staring over at the door now, his body still tense. He checked the time on the wall clock. “A lot is going to change for you, Violet,” he said through his teeth. There was edge to his voice. His focus shifted back to Lord Dyson briefly. “If we are separated…” his eyes met hers now and a tingling sensation rushed through her body. “…meet me at the cemetery tomorrow at twilight.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why?” Maybe she imagined it, but she felt like she could hear Radley’s heart beating fast. Something about the rhythms aroused her. The sensations were almost as if his blood was flowing through her very body like they were one.

  Radley took her hands in his. Even though both of their bodies were cold as was the way of the living dead, when touching, delicious warmth ensued. “I’ll explain then, but whatever you do, make sure you are there.” His nostrils flared as he seemed to be watching the room assiduously.

  And now, even though Violet sensed that Lord Dyson was keeping an eye on her, she brushed him off as best she could. She tried to ignore the fine hairs on her arms standing on end and the goose bumps on her thighs when she looked over and caught his gaze.

  Oh, how she wanted Radley in spite of everything. He looked so gorgeous with his dark disheveled hair and bright emerald eyes that glimmered under the soft light. When he took of
f his motorcycle jacket, she could see the hard muscles under his t-shirt. If only she could run her hand under the worn fabric and feel his skin. Essentially, that was all that mattered. Lord Dyson couldn’t ruin her feelings for the boy she cared so deeply about. She never wanted to be apart again. Hopefully, he felt the same way. But why was Radley acting like they might be separated?

  Maybe he sensed her insecurities because he put his arms around her and kissed her forehead lightly. God! His touch was other worldly. Feeling Radley against her body after so much time apart made her heart beat fast. He smelled amorous, a little like the forest, a little like Ivory soap, and a little like something too stimulating for her to understand. But one thing she was sure of—she wanted to give her virginity to him.

  As he held her, he resumed watching the door. Some of the guards had wandered away from the exit to nibble on treats at the buffet table while the other security figures joked around falling into the elation of the party. Possibly because they weren’t watching them and appeared to be involved in their own affairs, Radley seemed to relax. He must have been concerned about what Lord Dyson had whispered in the biggest one’s ear, Violet thought, but she wasn’t sure.

  He placed his hand on her cheek and ran his fingers down and across her lips. Her body quivered at his touch. Then his hand slid inside and down the open drape of fabric loosely covering her back. Her breathing sped up. But even though she felt so good to be with Radley, something was agitating her.

  Something wasn’t right. At first, she reasoned that she must be on edge simply just from everything that had happened. Of course, she would feel imbalanced considering only hours ago Drew turned her into a vampire. The transformation was excruciatingly painful. And now, everything in her life would be different. She hadn’t had the time to process the full ramifications of what she had agreed to. It didn’t matter if she wanted to convert. At the time, she perceived that she had no other choice. If Drew hadn’t turned her, Lord Dyson would have killed her right after the party once he had his way with her.

  But even though she was in the process of so many life changes, she sensed that the irritation in her body was more than that. She looked up into Radley’s smoldering green eyes. Wow, his face was wickedly handsome. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. His lips felt like warm pillows, way too good. The sensations were so much more intense now that she was one of the living dead.

  For a moment, she stopped and pulled herself away, forcing herself to breathe. Vampires didn’t have to take in air, but when they were aroused or experiencing something extreme, that inclination kicked in. She wasn’t used to the intensity of feelings she was experiencing. It didn’t seem right to feel the way she was in front of other people. Maybe they should leave the ballroom and go somewhere private.

  “You okay?” he asked in a low, soft voice that sounded almost like music to her ears. His eyes searched hers as he stood before her. He had a caring look that sent a rush of energy through her body. But that foreign irritation she was struggling with grew.

  What was happening? Yearnings began to mix. Something she had not expected so soon. Radley took her hand and led her over to the far end of the table where the fine china had been cleared away. He was talking to her, but she couldn’t hear him.

  Lord Dyson stood up. His wife’s eyes watched him like a hawk as he walked alongside the long dinner table toward Violet and Radley. Madame Dyson set her napkin down and drank the rest of her wine in one gulp. When Lord Dyson approached the couple, Violet hardly noticed. “Come with me to my room, child,” he said to her. Did he still intend to force himself on her?

  Radley jumped up and stepped between Violet and Lord Dyson. “Back off,” he growled.

  “Watch yourself, boy,” Lord Dyson said in a threatening tone that was barely audible above the music. The guards weren’t even paying attention.

  Violet clutched the table, not looking at Lord Dyson. She squirmed on the seat. At first, there was a stabbing sensation in her throat. Then it felt like fingernails dug into the insides of her neck on the soft raw tissues and pulled down all at once. She released a whimper that was muffled out by the music. She clutched her head. The pain became unmanageable. It felt like fire was searing her chest now.

  Lord Dyson pulled Radley by the shirt collar over to the side of the room. A hardly audible argument ensued.

  She wanted blood. That’s what it was. The new lust grew too intense for her to handle. Her forehead began to sweat. Everything around her appeared red. Her hands balled into fists. The hunger overwhelmed her.

  In a rush, she pushed away from the table with a snarl. From across the room, Radley’s eyes widened. But before he could stop her, she ran away. Lord Dyson started to rush for her, but Radley stepped in front of him with his hands out.

  In such a fury, Violet knocked down an unsuspecting guard at the door. Maybe the security wouldn’t have stopped her now that she was of their kind, but she didn’t take any chances. Before the party, Drew gave her the keys to her Porsche in the unlikely case that Lord Dyson fell into a rage and tried to lash out. They were her means to escape.

  Her throat burned so damn bad. The new dryness was like the desert on fire. Oh, hell. It was horrendous. She held her neck as she ran through the dark past the Night Ryder’s motorcycles that were parked in the driveway. At once, she opened the door to the Porsche. She fumbled with the keys.

  Would Lord Dyson come after her? When he looked at her in the ballroom, he appeared as if he wanted to kill her. Was that just her paranoia? She didn’t think so. To die at his hand would surely be torture. He would revel in her pain likely pulling her apart limb by limb or some other gruesome, demented death like stabbing her in the eyeball and twisting the knife.

  Finally, she got the car started and flipped on the headlights. She backed up in urgency. As she switched into drive, she was off and rolling with a screech out of the driveway. Boy, was this sports car squirrely. She had only ever driven her father’s Cadillac. This Porsche had a lot of power.

  Her adrenaline raced. The yearning for blood was all powerful. Though she hadn’t given it much thought with all that she was struggling with, Drew had warned her of that. Newbies had it hard. At first, all they could think about was their cravings. It would get easier, she promised. But it wasn’t easier yet. And the feeling wasn’t just one of hunger; she felt so amorous. All of her thoughts and emotions were at their peeks, desiring to break out to the other side.

  God! What was happening to her? She pressed down on the gas pedal as she sped around the sharp turns of the mountain winding downward.

  Oh, shame! She cranked the steering wheel too hard. The Porsche slid to the side of the turn nearly hitting the side rail that hardly safeguarded against falling off the edge of the mountain to a certain death. But she still didn’t have control of the car.

  The back tires spun in the dirt. The rear end moved side to side recklessly. Her hands sweated as the steering wheel slid through her fingers. With a hard thrust into the turn, she got the vehicle back onto the road.

  She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as the street straightened out. Minutes passed as she drove straight ahead. But soon thereafter, she moved onto the freeway. Her heart pounded hard against her chest. She would just keep driving until she got to a city. Her throat throbbed now, feeling even worse than before. It seemed like the pain was ever increasing. And her mouth felt so dry. She could imagine blisters growing in her throat. There wasn’t time. She pressed down on the gas pedal.

  Wow! This Porsche flew with the wind. In the past that would have scared her, but now she wanted the high, a distraction. The thrill of danger coursed through her. She was driving a hundred thirty-eight miles an hour on the open freeway.

  What the devil am I doing? She finally questioned herself. Her mind was a blur. She was losing control. And where am I? She had never been out on this freeway before. The only time she had been out of Roseville Mountains since she moved from Phoenix was when she had a gig
in Ocotillo Wells, but that place was in the opposite direction and Joaquin must have taken a different freeway.

  A rest stop was coming up. She slowed the Porsche and moved into the slow lane where she turned off. The ramp circled around and came out in a dark, nearly desolate parking lot. There were a couple of cars parked before the restrooms and snack machines.

  She stopped the Porsche in the back of the lot. Turning off the engine and headlights, she sat and watched. Across a dividing stretch of grass with lovely yellow flowers on the far side were a couple of semi-trucks parked, but nobody seemed to be inside. Maybe they were asleep in their vehicles or maybe they were in the restroom.

  Her hand rose to her neck. If only she could calm her raging emotions and this pain that felt worse than any death she could have ever imagined. It wasn’t right. What was she doing? She didn’t even know. There were inexplicable desires inside of her pulling her toward the semi-truck set off to the side under a big maple tree. So many fantasies that brought shame to her mind.

  She got out of the car, letting her hair fall over her features so that if anyone saw her they wouldn’t be able to identify her face. Why was she doing that?