Surrendering: A Regent Vampire Lords Novel, Book #1 (2 page)

Probably because of her curse, she’d been obsessed with dreams and the psychology surrounding them since she was a teenager. She’d majored in psychology in undergrad and was now working on her PhD while she taught several classes at Marquette as an assistant professor. All coursework behind her, only her dissertation remained and her doctorate was finally within reach. So her exhaustion was in part due to her nightmares, but also her obsession with this research project.

She hoped she’d find a
rational
explanation for her dreams and what they meant. No luck so far, but she wasn’t giving up hope. They didn’t feel like normal dreams in the typical sense. Too often, they felt…real. She felt
part
of them, as if she were there in these strange, often disturbing settings. If she could find a way to stop them, or at least to forget them as most people did when they woke, she would. And sleeping pills didn’t help; they only made her groggier the next day.

The only dream she
didn’t
want to stop was that of her fantasy lover, the man she couldn’t stop thinking about night
or
day. The man she’d been dreaming about for four solid months now. Her very own Prince Charming.

He had dark, hooded eyes and eyelashes any woman would be jealous of. He had rakish, rough good looks; a constant five-o’clock shadow graced his square, strong jawline. His wavy hair curled just under his earlobes and was as dark as the deepest depths of the ocean, or what she imagined the depths of the ocean looked like. His lips were full and kissable, sexy. The baritone deep cadence of his voice felt like melted chocolate when he demanded she come.

He was… Sex. On. A. Stick.

And she wanted a big ol’ lick.

She woke up more than once, aroused and wet, with her hands down her panties, trying to relieve the ache. Big Blue, her BFF and constant companion these days, remained at the ready in her nightstand drawer for when her hands just weren’t cutting it. Speaking of Big Blue, she made a mental note to check the batteries in the morning…they seemed low last time.

Sigh.

Men like that just didn’t exist in real life, but at least he was good fantasy fodder and that was perfectly fine with her right now.

Settling in, she hoped tonight would bring her fantasy lover instead of the disturbing nightmare she’d had for several weeks now. While strange dreams had plagued her since childhood, one in particular haunted her and she’d spent over ten years trying to bury it.
No, Kate, don’t think about that now
. These dreams are not at all the same as that one. These dreams can’t possibly be real.

Young women in cells.

Blood.

Evil.

Fangs?

Nope. Not real. This dream made sense. But she couldn’t help the gnawing and growing sensation that these women were begging for help. Her help.

If that wasn’t scary enough—and it
was
scary—what terrified the hell out of her was the undeniable evil presence she felt. She’d awoken the last several nights in a profuse sweat; panic nearly choking her. She’d taken to sleeping with her bedside lamp on, like she was ten years old again.

Exhausted, but determined to stave off the nightmares as long as possible, she sat up, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. With any luck, a couple hours of
Duck Dynasty
after the news should lull her into a good, hard sleep.

Reaching for her glass of water, it was almost to her lips when what flashed across the screen caused it to slip from her hand, drenching the sheets. Terror turned her blood to ice. She could only catch every few words the news anchor uttered, as all her senses were focused on the beautiful young face staring back at her. Begging for help.

“…missing…week…Northwestern…Sarah Hill…notify authorities.”

Sweet. Baby. Jesus…this
cannot
be happening again.

The missing girl on TV—Sarah Hill—was the one Kate had been dreaming of.

C
hapter 2

Dev

“Thanks, darling.” Dev gave her one last kiss before he ushered her out of the private room.

“It was my pleasure, my lord,” she purred. Hmmm…yes, it was her pleasure indeed. He was nothing if not a generous lover.

“Can I service you again, my lord?”

“No, Delia. You know the rules and you know your way out.” His voice was unnecessarily hard. He only took a lover once. Human females tended to get attached rather quickly and that was a complication he just didn’t need. He only wanted one woman attached to him, but he’d yet to find her. He’d be sure to tell Ronson, the manager of his new club, Dragonfly, to ban Delia from returning. All the courtesans were to be screened thoroughly. Apparently Delia had grander illusions in mind than simply providing her body…and blood.

Devon Fallinsworth was a very successful businessman. He owned a series of fashionable nightclubs and high-end restaurants in the Midwest. Expansion was underway in several more cities, including San Antonio, Texas, and St. Louis, Missouri. His latest club, Dragonfly, had only opened two weeks ago and was already a huge success.

His clubs were his greatest accomplishment and his biggest success. The general area, always located on the main level, provided a traditional bar to his human patrons. The underground, however, provided a much-needed and controlled service to the vampires in his Regent. He offered a very pleasurable and well-paid job to human females and was able to create a safe environment for vampires to feed. Human females were revered in his clubs; they were not used and abused. They were safe and everything that happened in his feeding rooms was consensual or the offending vampire was banned from the premises for good. He’d had few incidents over the last century since he’d opened such rooms.

Dragonfly’s underground rooms, or Dragonfly UG as his vampire patrons referred to it, were highly secured to avoid accidental discovery by unknowing humans and looked just like the main level, with two major differences. The entire staff was vampires. And the back portion of all his underground clubs contained small private bedrooms, in the event a couple desired privacy. Many vampires could care less if they copulated in front of others, but some humans weren’t quite so open-minded.

“She seems clingy.” Renaldo, his lieutenant and best friend of over three hundred years, stood guard outside the feeding room. At six foot six, Ren stood an inch taller than Devon’s impressive six foot five frame and wouldn’t let him go anywhere without protection. Ren was enormous and strikingly
GQ
’ish handsome, earning him the nickname “Pretty Boy” among his men. Few dared saying it to his face, though. Dev did often.

“Stage eight, at least. She definitely needs to go. I think I might have heard wedding bells ringing in her head as I walked her out.”

“I could see the stars in her eyes, man.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s all I need. Make sure she gets her last check and isn’t allowed to return. I’ve got a few hours of work to do, so I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Sounds good. Manny, Thane, and Giselle are there. I’ll see you in bit. There’s a new little redhead that started last week. I think it’s incumbent upon me to determine if she’s a
natural
redhead.”

Dev laughed. Ren had a weird obsession for redheads. Dev preferred brunettes, himself.

“See you later, pretty boy.”

As he flashed, he heard Ren reply, “Fuck off,
my lord
.”

Colors of deep rich burgundy, chocolate brown, and opulent gold adorned his office, the favorite space in his house. Overly large picture windows lined the left side of the study and ceiling-to-floor bookshelves spanned the rest of the walls. Shelves were full to the brink with precious artifacts and books, old and new. He enjoyed reading and was well educated. Of course, he also had to keep up with the changing times, technology, and strategies for his many business ventures. He had to admit, he certainly preferred the technology of the twenty-first century. The Internet and his iPhone were invaluable.

As Vampire Lord of the Midwest Regent, the responsibility on his shoulders was immense, heavy and never-ending, but he surrounded himself with loyal and trustworthy friends. A true leader acknowledges and trusts in the value, input, and talents of others, and Dev was a leader to the core. He had been challenged for his position as Vampire Lord many times over the past several hundred years and no one came close to taking what was his. What would
always
be his. He had been Vampire Lord of the Midwest Regent for over three hundred seventy years now. And he planned to be Vampire Lord for several hundred more.

He was well over five hundred years old and, yes, he appeared to have it all. When one was as old as he, one had enough time to acquire everything he desired.

Wealth.

Success.

Power.

Appearances were deceiving though sometimes, weren’t they?

Devon did
not
have it all. And it wasn’t for lack of trying.

He had yet to find his Moira, his Destiny, the other half of his soul. He knew she was out there. He’d been searching for her a very long time and his patience was waning and Dev was not a patient man.

Oh, he had his pick of willing women, like Delia, and countless, nameless other faces. He had needs after all, but truth be told, he longed for more and had for quite some time.

He often wondered what his Moira would look like. Would she be lithe and athletic or curvaceous and buxom? Would her hair be fairy golden or black as night? Would her eyes shimmer like the sun bouncing off the ocean waves or be dark pools of mystery? Would her personality be soft and submissive or hard and combative? He tried avoiding this game of ‘would she’ because once he found her he didn’t want to draw comparisons to any preconceived notions.

He’d been back about an hour when Ren gave a cursory knock while striding into his office.

Lounging in his luxurious Italian office chair behind his large cherry desk, Dev cocked an eyebrow at his friend’s intrusion. “Knock much? I was busy.” Though that was true, he’d read the same paragraph three times and still couldn’t retain it. His thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

Ren threw the
Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
down his desk and began pacing. “We have a big problem, Dev.”

He continued without waiting for a reply. “There is another missing college student. Sarah Hill, age twenty-two, psychology major at Northwestern University. Parents reported her missing on Monday, after she didn’t make her usual Sunday call and they couldn’t reach her. Local Evanston police found her car on campus, abandoned, multiple parking tickets on it.”

“Shit.”

“Right. This brings the total of missing college girls to eleven in the last two weeks alone in our Regent. All are between the ages of nineteen and twenty-two.”

Fuuuuuck.
Dev grabbed the newspaper and quickly read the article about the local missing woman. He’d had a gnawing concern lately that something was just, well…off. And he always trusted his gut.

Dev looked up, meeting Ren’s icy blue eyes. “Have you heard from Thatcher?” Detective Mike Thatcher was a Milwaukee detective with whom they had an…
understanding
.

“Not yet. I have a call into him as well.”

Dev sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Have you spoken with Damian and Romaric?”

Damian DiStephano was Vampire Lord of the East Regent and Romaric Dietrich was Vampire Lord of the West Regent. Together, they ruled the United States.

Ren blew out a breath, nodding. “Just got off the phone with Damian. He hadn’t heard of anything unusual, but said he’d check it out. I have a call into Romaric as well, but haven’t talked to him yet.” Ren stopped wearing the carpet thin, leaned toward Dev and slammed his large hands on the expensive desk, the items on the desk rattled, threatening to fall. Dev arched one thick brow in response, but didn’t say a word. They exchanged knowing glances, having been through this once before.

“I have a really bad feeling, Dev. I think that motherfucker is up to his old tricks again.”

As Vampire Lord, Dev was ultimately responsible for enforcing their only two laws within his Regent. Except in very controlled instances, do not expose their entire race to the human population and do not kill your blood donor. Most vampires lived easily within those two confines and those that didn’t were swiftly dealt with.

But it appeared that Xavier, the most depraved offender of both laws, had finally resurfaced. It was almost as if he were taunting them. The question now was, how were they going to find a rogue vampire that had remained elusive for the last one hundred years?

C
hapter 3

Kate

Kate walked into the Milwaukee Police Department, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted nothing more than to turn, run and forget she knew what she did. She wanted to, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She should have come yesterday but spent the entire day trying to convince herself the girl in her dreams was just that…another bad dream. She wasn’t real. She wasn’t the same missing girl that she had seen on the news the other evening.

But she was. And she couldn’t deny it any longer.

She’d dreamed of Sarah Hill again last night and the things she witnessed were unspeakable. Horrific. While she struggled to wrap her mind around what she saw, she could not continue convincing herself to sit on her thumbs and take no action.