Page 3 of Blood & Bedlam

“I cannot speak on the kingdom of heaven being open to you once you receive the Thirst of the Blood. I can, however, assure you that you will be protected by your own hand, and under my oath. You will be my children, sired by the first of our kind. That will make you Royals amongst us.”

I can see that the offer is tempting, but the damnation of their faith still wars within them. Juliette’s hand clings to the crucifix around her neck, but Camille straightens her back and rises, ignoring the protests of the others as she approaches. I’m careful not to move, to startle her as she reaches her hand down to mine.

“God is dead, Vladimir. Or perhaps he only exists to protect men born to power.” Her voice does not waver, and she does not recoil as I stand, towering over her small body.

“The rebirth will be agony.” It is perhaps my last effort to sway her mind, but she lifts her chin, delicate and pale and covered in blood in the moonlight.

“My life has been one agony after another, monsieur. I will survive.” She tilts her head, exposing her neck, the thick river of blood beneath her skin a beacon to me. She’s mirroring how she saw me feed before, but I bring my hand up to straighten the tilt of her head, grabbing gently for her injured wrist, snapped and swollen as I bring it to my lips.

We share a look, deep and connecting, and I know with surety that this is now my child. That they all are.

“I will make it so you never feel powerless again,” I promise. My gaze flicks to the others, making their way to their feet.

Juliette, Fleur, Claire, and Camille.

My new daughters.

Reine

CHAPTER 1OCTOBER 30, 2001

“You are not bailing on me. Come on, Reine!” Makenna pleads, reaching across the bar to smack the flat of her hand across my knuckles. The sting is sharp, and I wrench my hand back, rubbing at the reddened skin with indignation.

“Rude, much?”

Makenna scoffs and rolls her eyes at me. “No, what’s rude is bailing on this ball three hours before we’re supposed to be there. You shouldn’t even be at work right now,” she says with a pout, crossing her arms and leveling me with an annoyed look. I throw my hands up and gesture at the full bar around us, loud and filled with impatient patrons.

“We’re short staffed, Makenna. Bourbon’s gonna be crawling with tourists tonight. I can’t pass that money up—what can I get ya?” I ask, lifting my eyebrow to the nearly cross-eyed frat boy, no doubt on vacation, who’s just muscled in beside my best friend.

“Jack and Cola,” he slurs. I take in his wobbling stance, the sweat drenching his polo shirt, and I assess pretty quickly that cutting him off is going to start a problem. I reach down below the well and grab the water tinted with a little flat Coke in a Jack bottle. I scoop him up some ice, shaking my head. He watches me pour it in, hit the liquid with Coke from the gun, and when I push it across the bar, he holds out a twenty.

“Nah, bebe, that one’s on the house.” I smile and draw out my accent, playing it up just a bit. Poor guy looks struck stupid, a smile washing over his face as I move on, slinging more drinks. He’s too drunk to serve, but this way he at least gets a little water in him and I don’t have to toss him out.

“Reine, I’m fucking serious. You have no idea how long I worked on these pieces, and I need you to wear one. Pierre LaRoux is supposed to be there tonight. I need him to see my work, pleeeeease,” Makenna begs, and the desperation in her voice has guilt washing over me.

Shit.

I forgot she was making those pieces for tonight. Halloween approaches, and vampire balls are a dime a dozen in New Orleans, but this isn’t how I planned to spend my birthday. She stares at me with her most innocent smile, hands clasped together like she’s praying, knowing that pout does me in even after all these years.

“Nice tits, babe!” rings out from the other side of Makenna, but before she can turn and snap off on him, I raise the soda gun and send a stream of soda water right in his fucking face, drenching him and his buddies. He goes red, but before he can recover enough to get wild, Mannie, our bouncer, has him by the neck, tossing his ass out.

“Fucking pig!” Makenna calls, giving me an oh my god look, but I just shrug and get back to work. Shit like that is common, and I knew when I took a job down here it was going to be this way. Folks like to come from out of town and leave all their common decency at the airport. There’s a reason people from the N.O. avoid most of Bourbon and the sloppy frat boys who get a little liquid courage in them and act a fool.

“Anyway, you have one hour, and I need you at my place to get ready,” she says, draining the last of her vodka in one pull and setting the glass near my side of the bar top. I open my mouth to protest, but she’s hitting me with those big, glassy eyes and I know I’m going to give in.

“Frankie!” I call, and a smile splits across her face, because she knows it too.

“Yeah, Reine, sup?” My manager squeezes around Ash, our other bartender, pushing the stray strands of his blue hair that have escaped his bun back from his face. “You good? Mannie told me he tossed a dude.” He’s full of concern, and I hate to break the news.

“Turns out I can’t help out tonight. I forgot—we’ve had plans for months.” I grimace, and I see his chest fall in a huff. I can tell he wants to be mad, but I pick up at least three extra shifts a week, and I’ve never called out. As it stands, I’ve already worked a full seven today, on my only day off.

“Shit. How long do I have you?” he asks, swiping up some of the dirty glasses stacking up on the bar.

“’Bout an hour,” Makenna pipes in, and I watch Frankie lose his train of thought as he takes her in. He’s had a crush forever, and she barely knows he exists in that way.

“Oh. Uh, y’all got plans?” he asks, and Makenna smiles wide, launching into the story of the exclusive vampire ball she got us tickets to, where everyone who’s anyone in the fashion industry will be. Frankie washes the same glass three times, his gaze transfixed on hers.

“Well, you should probably just go get ready now, then, huh?” he asks, still looking at my best friend like a lovestruck puppy. Makenna squeals and launches herself up the bar top, throwing her arms around a stunned Frankie.