Bitten Surrender (2 page)

“I won’t do it. Just because they want me to. Because of some birthmark. It’s all a bunch of crap. They’ll have to kill me. I won’t willingly submit to anyone making me a vampire. I don’t care if they need babies.”

“These things are not random. I have never known a vampire bride who did not end her days deliriously happy. Mother Nature, she does not make these kinds of mistakes. The mark on your wrist, it isn’t only naming you as a choice to some royal vampire. It has already indicated who the vampire will be. Destiny has always known you were meant for a specific other soul.”

“Vampire brides?” She gagged. “Is that what they are called? My God, it gets more and more atrocious. Well, you can tell whatever vampire Mother Nature saddled me with to find me at the bar. I’ll be there with someone between my thighs. If he wants me, he can find me there.”

He surprised her by smiling. “Your fate is going to turn out so much better than you can yet imagine.”

Adrienne rolled her eyes. Jerome needed to get a clue, a big one, and fast. He’d clearly bought into whatever the vampires were selling him. Maybe being a vampire believer worked for him in Hungary. Back in the good US of A, the Vereen vampires had the decency to look horrified when they found out she was a chosen woman. Their faces paled even further than usual.

The royals must be bad if their subjects didn’t want anything to do with them, which they’d made abundantly clear first in their horrified faces and later in the way they’d avoided her.

Jerome summoned a car as promised, and the ride to the bar was uneventful. Of course, it also turned nothing was going on in the bar he sent her to. Three old guys—the youngest of the bunch made her vampire sense go off—lined the bar. Since vampires didn’t age, she almost never saw an elderly version. How he had gotten so old raised a lot of questions. She wasn’t going to ask for answers. The less she knew about vampires the better.

She walked in and exited immediately as though through a revolving door. Rather than return immediately to the car, she followed a drumbeat she heard. Somewhere people sang loudly. She’d get one more dose of happiness before someone with fangs ruined her life.

****

H
anzi Black pulled his car to a screeching stop outside of
Castle Hata
and checked the clock. The woman would have been there for hours. With the sunrise so near, he hoped she would be sleeping. They would find their way together by the afternoon when he rose himself. Although he would not be able to take the full blast of the afternoon rays without doing damage to his skin, he easily walked the halls of the warded castle without issue.

Spending the day getting to know the woman who would be his responsibility for eternity....the mother of his children, the albatross around his neck—the final so-called gift the curse placed upon his kind.

“You’re late.” Jenci leaned against the entrance, his arms crossed. A look of utter boredom crossed his features, and his lined face appeared almost bland.

“You look old.”

“Well.” His old friend shrugged. “Aging is what will happen when you don’t see me for a hundred years.”

His friend’s getting older was exactly why Hanzi stayed away. The nature of what had happened to Jenci had always been the part of the curse Hanzi most despised. The witch who cursed the original township had not done the same for Jenci. Oh, the spell changed Hanzi as well, only he hadn’t been present on the day they were changed. He’d arrived back home, his aging slowed, and his senses more alert. Jenci had been spared the blood curse of the rest of them, yet forced to remain within the borders of their township forever. The few times they’d tried to remove him had been disastrous. He’d burned trying to cross the border as Hanzi would have if he tried to run through the early morning sun.

He was forever a sentry, waiting for the rest of them to come home. And eventually he became the reason they all survived without killing each other, the man responsible for learning the witch’s rules.

Hanzi loved Jenci as family, and he wanted to tear the world apart whenever he saw that Jenci had aged. Eventually Jenci would die, leaving the world a truly dark night. Thousands of vampires lived in the world, all of them descendants of the fools Hanzi and the others had mistakenly made so many years ago. To change a human, other than a royal bride, into a vampire was illegal these days.

Yet Jenci would never change, never become a vampire, never join them or the idiots Hanzi had to spend his life controlling.

Hanzi’s wrist itched, and he looked at the mark there. Presumably, his future bride would be feeling the discomfort of her own mark.

“Are you sure there was no mistake?”

Jenci held the talisman he wore around his neck, hidden most of the time. “The necklace and the book don’t make mistakes. Your bride was born twenty-seven years ago. Given to you to ease the burden you’ve carried for so long. The witch’s last. I’m sorry for what she forced upon all of you.”

“If she wanted to apologize, she might have found a better way.”

He stomped toward the doorway, and Jenci lifted his wrist. Although he hated the need, his friend was not incorrect with his assumption of hunger. Hanzi did need to feed. Letting his fangs extend, he bit into Jenci’s wrist, letting the flow of blood satisfy the craving always inside of him.

Unlike most humans, Jenci did not swoon when fed upon. He continued to speak. “A few things.”

Hanzi raised his eyebrows. Speaking during feedings happened so rarely, he never knew exactly what to do. Did his friend actually expect him to pull his mouth off his wrist and answer?

“I’ve called myself Jerome for the last twenty years, so stick with it unless you want initial confusion.”

They forever had to alter names, places, and histories. Hanzi grumbled internally. Surely at the castle they remained who they were. His bride would have to adjust. He pulled off, then wiped a remnant of the blood from his mouth while
Jerome
pressed a handkerchief to his wrist.

“And you’re going to want to speak in English.” Jerome altered his own language as he continued to speak. “It’s her native tongue.”

“Am I to sound British then?”

The words rolled off without trouble. In two thousand years, he’d been lucky to have a natural gift for languages. Some of his other brothers hadn’t been so lucky. They still stumbled over dialects and sounded foreign no matter language they spoke. Hanzi had learned how to blend. He walked all the way inside. Maybe he’d look in on the lady while she slept. Although the whole idea of being forced to take a bride irked him, he had to admit he was curious to know her appearance.

“American.”

He froze. “Are you serious?”

“And all the free spirit and independence which comes along with being from the new world. Although if you’ve spent any time with British girls lately, you’ll know they’re not exactly docile themselves. In our new modern era, the women do as the wish.”

Hanzi heard the unreleased laughter in Jerome’s voice. “What are you not telling me?”

“She’s not here. About three hours ago, she insisted on visiting a pub. I had the car take her. They reported she didn’t remain at the pub, and our spotter has since then lost her, although he thinks she headed to the bonfire. So, if you wish to find your bride before the sun comes up, I’d suggest getting a move on. Unless you’re satisfied none of the vampires out there in the town are going to want her for their own.”

Hanzi’s fangs elongated, and it was everything he could do to not turn completely into his vampire form. He had not wanted her. Not even a little. However, since he was here to claim her, he’d be damned if he let some other creature put his hands on what was his alone.

“Her name is Adrienne, and I really don’t think she’s a virgin, my brother. Fate went and gave you a modern girl. I for one couldn’t be more pleased.”

“Who gives a shit who’s she slept with before? If she’s mine, she’s not taking anyone else. Screw you and your laughter.”

Hanzi growled and plowed outside. He would find Adrienne. He had tracked harder prey. Some girls made the mistake of running. They were always found. She couldn’t have gotten far. By morning she’d be back here, safe, where he might better handle the bride situation the way the others of his kind managed the experience.

Hanzi would be damned if some American vampire bride led him around by the balls. She would soon learn the rules of their relationship.

****

T
he bonfire blazed, and a mixed group of vampires and humans danced unabashedly. The undead among them at least knew what they celebrated. It was a mating day. Most of the humans probably thought it an excuse to become drunk. Some of them had obviously overindulged. The smell of vomit hung rank in the air.

His fangs burned in his gums. It was a good thing Jerome had fed him before giving him the news that Adrienne had been partying; otherwise Hanzi might give in to the need to feed off every available human standing between him and his goal. He had yet to lay eyes on his female. Although how he would know her remained a questions since he had neglected to ask for a physical description before he stormed off.

He couldn’t very well walk the crowd asking if anyone had seen an Adrienne who wasn’t a virgin who was supposed to be waiting for him in the castle. Doing so would draw unnecessary attention. There were days he missed being worshiped as a lord with none to tell him what he couldn’t do. Of course, he didn’t miss the plague, which accompanied those times.

It was better to have his food supply not dropping, ironically, like flies.

A woman caught his attention. She swayed to some music he couldn’t hear. If bands had been playing earlier, they’d long since gone home. The female was a tiny thing; he’d put her at no taller than five foot five inches. His brain automatically transferred the figures out of the metric system; he would need to adjust certain things to what his American bride was accustomed to.

The woman’s hair was brown with red streaks highlighting it. Although the color red in her hair would never be found in nature. It was neon, and it lit the night as much as the blazing fire did. Her features were strained, and, with her head thrown back toward the moon, her movements seemed as much a prayer to the sky goddess as anything else. She was dressed too coolly for the early morning hours. A black t-shirt over a pair of jeans covered only by a flimsy sweater couldn’t be offering enough warmth to her body.

He approached slowly, watching her. She twirled in a circle, and the closer he got the more he smelled the alcohol wafting off her. The woman was drunk. Her lids opened at his approach, revealing eyes of blue, a deep shade reminiscent of the Pacific. It had been too long since he gazed upon the great ocean. Looking upon her, he longed to take her with him—visit some place where he could see the water every day. From the safety of his hotel room, of course, since he’d never again put his feet in the ocean during the day—unless he wanted to be scorched in the process.

“Hello there. You’re a vampire.”

He jolted at her loud announcement. While most everyone here would know the truth, some were still unaware. His kind preferred secrecy—a rarity as of the few things they agreed on.

Hanzi stroked the side of her face. “Shh.”

She whacked away his hand. “Don’t shh me. I’ll say whatever I want. I’m here to die against my will.”

“Who would dare force you to do anything against your will? I’ll have him executed.”

Was her fear the reason she had gotten so intoxicated? Was someone here threatening to harm the little creature in front of him?

“Oh, you know all about it.” She poked at his shoulder. “All of you vampires do.”

He winced again at the use of the
V
word.

She continued. “I had to come here. Apparently it’s my destiny to mate and marry some guy of your royal kind, and then the son of a bitch is going to kill me. I’m going to become undead—the same as my aunt who we never saw again. I don’t believe it. I think he’s going to kill me. I’m here for him to feed upon and kill.”

A ridiculous notion, of course; the vampire brides were not fed on and discarded as trash. Was it possible someone in addition to his bride had escaped tonight? He found it unlikely. Jerome would have known, would have told Hanzi. Was the woman before him the one he had come to find? Was their destiny what had drawn him to her? As he asked the question, he prayed hopefully to any deity who might be listening that he was correct. If the woman belonged to someone else, he would have to fight him for her. Not to mention how awkward it would be to be fighting for a woman when another female had already been chosen for him.

“What is your name,
kincsem
?” He dropped the endearment without thinking. The good news was he didn’t believe she spoke Hungarian, and wouldn’t know what he had said. She might not like the word lamb to describe herself.

“Adrienne Mitchell.” She poked him in the shoulder. “What’s your name? I’m thinking of taking a lover tonight. You’d be great for it. Maybe my royal vampire will come, see me with you, and decide to leave me the fuck alone.”

He knew he should identify himself, let her know he was the vampire she wanted to flee. And yet she fascinated him. How would she behave when she wasn’t drunk? Would she still offer him such unabashed honesty?

How much to tell her? Finally, when he thought of the right words, he spoke.

“Do you think the royal vampire who is here to find you would allow me to live?” He brushed her hair away from her face. “Do you think he has lived for thousands of years by letting anyone take what is his?”

“I don’t know what he does or does not do. I don’t care. He can go jump into a big puddle of molten hot lava.” She waved her hands in the air. “If he doesn’t find me today, he can’t claim me.”

She had been given completely wrong information. Today was the first day of claiming, but she would be open to him for the rest of her life. Traditionally, his kind didn’t wait. Why would they when they were finally getting the witch’s so-called apology? If she ran, he would have the remainder of her life to find and mate her. There were a few instances of this occurring with previous brides, which was why Jenzi—Jerome—had arranged for all brides to meet their future vampires in the castle. It kept things simple.