Wordless: new adult paranormal romance (Age of Blood Book 1) (5 page)

“As if you had to ask!” Zeva rolled her eyes. “That girl,” she added, just when a fresh-faced Fay appeared at the door, “is terrified and exhausted. I figured she could use a little bit of TLC.”

William stopped mid-chew and gave as many silent clues as he could – tilting his head towards the door, clearing his throat, discreetly pointing – but his housekeeper was determined to finish what she had to say.

“Pretty gorgeous though. And just your type. I didn’t think you would…”

Before she could add anything incriminating, William gave up and said: “Annnnd, she’s also right behind you, Zee.”

Zeva had the decency to look appalled by her slip, but Fay dismissed her apology with a tentative smile and the fervent shake of her head.

William watched with interest as she took both of the housekeeper’s hands and squeezed them in one of hers. She didn’t say anything, but the gesture made him wonder what he’d missed: she showed reverence and appreciation – two things he so very rarely saw from young folks.

“Now now, poppet – that’s quite unnecessary. Come, come,” Zeva cooed, showing her to the head of the long table, opposite his seat. “I made breakfast.”

Fay glanced towards him, obviously uncomfortable at the prospect of sitting with him, although she was about three meters away. Great.

William knew he shouldn’t take it to heart; she was entitled to mistrust him, as much as any vampire, but still, it irked him to no end. He tried to send her a non-threatening, reassuring gaze, but he kind of lost the plot, and ended up gawking at her instead.

She looked fantastic. Her golden skin shone with a new glow, the bags under her eyes had considerably deflated. The grey yoga pants and long-sleeve top covered the body that had been on show since he’d met her, and she seemed… wholesome.

Naked, at his mercy, he’d just wanted to protect her. Now, he would have loved nothing more than to rip her clothes off.

That would have been great to ease the whole terrified thing, wouldn’t it?

“You have no reason to be frightened of me, Fay. None whatsoever.”

He knew he needed to explain things to her, but first things first.

“Sit down, eat. We’ll speak when we’re done. Can you join us for breakfast, Zee?”

Zeva generally had her meals with her family, downstairs, but he guessed her presence would reassure Fay.

“Sure. Agnes is excited about taking Fay shopping, by the way. It was very kind of you to ask her.”

William tried a smile, but that one might have ended up as a scowl.

Agnes. He’d forgotten he’d texted her the previous night. Dammit.

Agnes, Zeva’s niece, daughter of Hector, his faithful driver, was a personal shopper. He had asked her because there had been no way of commissioning anyone else without having to endure the silent disappointment of the entire Gardiner clan, and he couldn’t trust Fay to choose adequate things by herself. The girl was a country bumpkin, for Christ’s sake! Not to mention that everything he’d seen led him to believe she’d lived naked.

To his surprise, he’d easily managed to enroll her in the Academy, the only college welcoming vampire and human alike. It only accepted the best and brightest of both worlds; save for a few exceptional individuals, applicants were only considered providing that they were either recommended by an important figure or a wad of cash. For that reason, most of the attendees knew each other – by reputation, at least.

Fay was going to be an oddity; new, late to enroll, and more importantly, unknown. There would be questions and speculations about her; if she turned up wrapped in the wrong packaging, the other students would just tear her apart.

Of course, trusting Agnes wasn’t exactly the best idea, either. He knew better than to think she would be above purposefully ruining Fay, if she thought of her as a rival.

Boy, why was he fucking her again? Half an hour later, she reminded him.

“No need to thank me. She’s the best.”

They ate in a silence that was more comfortable than what he’d assumed it would be, but eventually, there was no putting off the conversation he’d apprehended.

He purposefully started while Zeva was clearing the plates, rather than waiting for her departure. As Fay trusted Zeva, speaking in front of her might convince her of the veracity of what he told her.

“I have seen a glimpse of the life you led before, so I will understand if you don’t believe me now. In time, you will.”

He pulled the document he’d stuffed in his pocket as soon as the express courier had delivered it, getting to his feet. Then, he presented it to her, ignoring the way she trembled at his approach.

“This is a copy, for your use. As you can see, I got it stamped by the court on our arrival. The original has been filed in the Archives.”

He let her read it. Her frown deepened at first, before disappearing, replaced by an incredulous and enthralled expression he’d seen so many times.

Eventually, she whispered, “I’m free.”

He hated her voice; lower, hoarser than what you’d think, when you looked at her, but it was tentative. Pity she always whispered like she was walking on eggshell, when she dared to speak.

William cursed Vincent again. This woman was the shadow of what she could be. He could see it in the depth of her dark, smoldering eyes. She was the shadow of a vamp. The shadow of a consort.
His
consort.

In another life, she would have had a firm voice.

“Yes, and every door leading out of this building is wide open at night. You can leave anytime. Eventually, you will, I’m sure.”
No, she damn well wouldn’t.
Ignoring his own fervent interjection, he carried on: “For now though, you need a roof over your head, you need to carve a place for yourself in this world, and you need protection.”

He didn’t spell it out; from what he’d seen of her so far, he knew she wasn’t stupid. She’d realize he’d meant that an AB neg virgin couldn’t just roam the streets safely.

“Why would you do that for me?”

She was genuinely confused.

“Because not every vampire is a monster; humans aren’t all saints, either. I suspect you’ve met enough of us to believe otherwise, but there’s a very simple reason for that.”

Her head shot up, and all of her attention was fixed on him. He could see that was exactly what she was desperate for: a reason, something tangible that would explain either her past or her present.

“You lived under a monster’s thumb. His friends aren’t likely to be nice people, are they?”

He was reluctant to add that those kind of low-life were purposefully secluded in towns like hers, not looking forward to seeing the accusation in her eyes.

“I…” she started, but then, she closed her mouth. “I should thank you.”

It was said reluctantly. As expected, she didn’t entirely believe him, yet. Of course, she wouldn’t. He was used to newly freed humans. He knew the whole process; she would be appreciative soon enough.

But repeating that fact didn’t mollify his irritation or his frustration. 

“Don’t mention it. Actually, don’t mention
any
of this business. I’m not fond of deception, but in your case, it’s preferable. If you share that you used to be a blood whore, you’ll see just how cruel humans can be.”

He could see his words cut deep, she shuddered, and he was kicking his own ass for it. But he’d just thrown a million away just to make sure she was safe; would it have killed her to be grateful?

His anger lasted less than a second, soon replaced by regret. Damn. Perhaps he should do something about his tendency to lash out before he thought things out.

He attempted to sound more pleasant: “If you find the idea agreeable, you can attend the Academy. A degree from there will open doors for you.”

“
The
Academy,” she repeated, her soft, still half-whispered tone revealing she knew exactly what institution he was referring to. “I thought you had to enlist like, five years in advance.”

He shrugged. She was right, but her transcript, his cash and his name had made that a non-issue. Truth was, there were twenty-five people in each lecture, when the classes could easily have welcomed twice as many; the dean had been known to make exceptions for the right people.

“I really am grateful.”

Her voice was just as hesitant, but she lifted her eyes, meeting his gaze to let him know she meant it, this time. He saw it. He also saw her distrust. She was trying to work out his angle, decide what he wanted from her.

William sighed, and turned away to lock himself in his office, before he snapped again.

It wasn’t her fault – it was Vincent’s – but damn if her low opinion of him didn’t piss him off.

Five

“You’ve hollered, boss?”

The woman in front of his door was dressed to kill, four inches red stilettos and all. They made her long legs appear fucking endless, in that tight, short skirt. Agnes being Agnes, the ensemble didn’t even look slutty: she wore it with a long blazer over a conservative blouse. The perfect mixture of professional, efficient, and sexy. Just a glance and everyone accepted her; she was posh enough for her peers to be impressed, and not too obnoxious either, so no self-conscious madam felt the need to mess with her.

That’s the kind of clothes he wanted for Fay: an armor that wouldn’t betray just how fragile she was. 

“Yes. I need to speak about the girl you’re taking today. She’s an old friend’s protégée. He lives in the country, and she’s been accepted to the Academy, so she’s staying with me.”

While it definitely skirted around the truth, it was mundane enough so that anyone would buy it, and if questions were asked, Fay could stick to some facts, at least.

“Ok. What kinda thing do we need, then?”

“I paid off the airline to lose her suitcase. There was flannel involved.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Afraid not.”

He figured laughing at Fay’s expense would endear Agnes to her; for now, anyway. Eventually, when she knew he’d offered her a room up in the penthouse, when she saw the way he looked at her, she’d start being a bitch, but beforehand, he needed her to do her job effectively.

“Ok. So, we need everything. Total redo, from bottom to top. With eveningwear, too?”

William nodded, genuinely amused by the woman’s excitement.

“Tell me there’s no limit on that card,” she begged when he pushed a shiny black credit card her way.

“There’s no limit on that card. Go all out. Have fun. Go to a spa if you have time. Buy yourself something, too.”

“Damn.”

Some women got that look in their eyes when they saw flowers, for others, it was chocolate. For Agnes, it was shopping sprees – simple as that. He liked how honest, unashamed she was. What you saw was exactly what you got.

She glanced at him underneath her lashes and licked her lip, strolling on his side of the desk.

“I think that’s definitely worth a show of gratitude, don’t you?”

She fell to her knees, opening his crotch, and wrapping her lips around the dick that had been hard for almost twenty-four hours straight. William crocked his head as he observed her, wondering why he was considering stopping her.

He couldn’t. Letting her have her fun now would indubitably prove that Fay’s arrival meant nothing – besides, he really needed the release.

Agnes was good at sucking; he knew that for a fact as he’d sporadically enjoyed her technique for a decade. Yet, today, it just wasn’t working for him, however deep she took him.

He could see her frustration after fifteen minutes. He didn’t always come that quickly, but normally, he showed more enthusiasm, at least. Today, he was just frowning, looking down at her as she dribbled around the base of his cock, and he felt like yawning.

Enough of that; he had other things to do. He pulled her up on her feet, and turned her over, bending her on his desk before taking his heavy length in his hand. His two quick strokes felt ten times better than her throat had.

He took a rubber from the first draw on his mahogany desk, put it on, before pounding her so hard the heavy piece of furniture was against the window when he was done.

She came three times.

When William resolved to put his dick back in his pants, he was still hard.

And blue balled, too.

Fay was immediately intimidated by the gorgeous human girl William introduced as Agnes. She was tall, fair, pristine, and domineering; her opposite.

Her piercing eyes roamed over her, assessing her expertly, before hazarding:

“30-26-36, B cup, around five foot two?”

Hell, she was good. The last time Fay had been at liberty to buy a bra, she’d been a 30B and she hadn’t changed much in three years. The rest, she wasn’t sure about, but it did sound likely.

“I think so.”

“Perfect. I do love a challenge,” she announced with the fakest smile, before turning to William. “I’ll get her back to you in one piece before dawn.”

Oh god. It wasn’t even nine – the prospect of spending that many hours with the cold bombshell send shivers down her spine.

“Midnight latest,” he amended. “And Jessica is going with you to ensure you
both
stay in one piece.”

Her expression never slipped, but Fay could tell: Agnes was not happy about that. Suddenly, whoever that Jessica was, she was eager to have her around.

Her eyes bulged when the stunning ebony vampire who’d touched her the previous night was waiting for them in the lobby of the modern building.

They say you should be careful what you wish for…

Looking back over the various abysmally unfortunate decisions he’d made over the course of the last half an hour, William decided that he was, in fact, better off gone until he worked his new obsession out of his system.

He liked to observe and when needed, council his new rescues. Eventually, they hit rock bottom; they cried, screamed, and made scenes. His presence had been fundamental on those occasions. He was the rational, experienced big brother who could pat their back and tell them things would be alright eventually.

But he knew he couldn’t hope to remain detached and lucid around her. She’d just reacted like every single ex-slave he’d freed, and instead of taking it in stride, he had chewed her up, called her names, before fucking a slut to stroke his ego.

It was time to accept what Jess, Zeva, and Mark had seen.

She
was
just his type and he wanted her so much it was affecting his sanity. He
couldn't
be reasonable and wait for her to be stronger. His mind understood it was necessary, but another part of him took over when she was in the room; a part that needed her
now
and just couldn't understand why she was so distant.

A simple, straightforward part of him that had never tried to dominate him before.

“Don't ignore it,”
his old friend had told him, many, many years ago.
“It might not affect you now, but some day, it will. Beasts don't do well in cages, Will.”

He had ignored it; his beast had never even tried to claw its way out.

Until now.

What was it about her? Well, other than her absolute perfection, of course.

He could take or leave big tits, but in his opinion, a nice ass was a must; her peach-shaped one, somewhat too large compare to the rest of her frame, was definitely up there in the top ten of every single one he’d seen in over nine hundred years. That guaranteed that his dick stayed hard anywhere near her.

But when he thought of it, what made her stand out was her mouth. Not because he’d like nothing more than to see it wrapped around his cock – although there was that, too – but because she wouldn’t open it.

He could see the wheels turning, she had plenty to say, but she just
wouldn’t.
Everything coming out of it was a direct reply to whatever he’d said or asked – she gave nothing away so, of course, he wanted to know what made her tick.

His interest would dwindle, eventually. Probably. Maybe.

He sighed out loud. How
inconvenient
. In all his years, William had never developed something quite so close to an infatuation. Why now? Why her? He knew nothing of her, really.

Within minutes, his decision was made. He called his brother back, hoping against all hope the King was too busy to get him to talk about hows and whys. He would know, eventually: Michael was a damn skilled psychic – one of the reasons why William and their sister didn’t live in the same state as him.

“Change of plan. I’m coming to Washington.”

William’s hopes were dashed when Michael asked why, rather than acquiescing and hanging up.

“Brilliant. But I thought you had a new charity case under your roof.”

Why hadn’t he prepared an answer to that very expected question? Michael was far too astute to believe a half-assed lie, so instead, he went for a generic:

“It’s complicated.”

Mike snorted on the other end of the line. Dammit, how did he do it? 

“So, out of ten, what’s her ass like?”

Ten. Eleven and a half.

“Shut it, brother, I still have pictures of your disco phase. The pink trousers and the afro were particularly tasteful.”

Michael could be many things, but certainly not a fashion expert. William had wisely stuck to suits all the way through the twentieth century.

“I’ll take this as a confession. But very well, I could use a hand. Is Charlotte accompanying you?”

Their sister, the only elder patrician who’d refused to rule her own city, lived with him – mainly because he wouldn’t allow otherwise. Although she was certainly able to take care of herself, she was also… vulnerable. Ok, to be entirely frank? She was insane. In the most endearing sense of the term, but batshit crazy nonetheless.

If she had been human, she might have been diagnosed with ADHD and OCD, amongst other things, but when those very manageable traits were paired with the mind and abilities of a vampire – infinitely quicker than a human’s – the result was pure crazy.

She forgot everything, remembered it all at once, danced alone in the middle of a crowd, walked down the street naked, cleaned the bathroom at the same time as cooking those weird-ass weed and blood cookies
no
one
should ever eat.

He remembered giving in and trying a bit, once, and he was pretty sure that it had resulted in him turning into Charlotte, for all intent and purposes. He’d gone running naked around Central Park and woke up in a sea of exhausted, naked bodies, male and female alike, although he’d believed he was entirely straight, until that day. Given the fact that he hadn’t exactly dislike the soreness of his own ass, he’d since changed his tune, introducing himself as bi-curious from that point onward.

William was all for a good time, occasionally, but high didn’t even begin to cover what he’d felt like. Those cakes should be outlawed.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll ask her to stay with Fay.”

“Ah! We have a name.”

William chastised himself; he bet Michael would scan his mind for any mention of Fay until he got everything, down to her fantastic measurements.

“When can I expect you?”

“By dawn.”

He gave himself that one evening to speak to Charlotte and organize around the clock protection for Fay, in or out of his house; then he was out of there.