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Blood of the Sea Omnibus Page 2


  “Ye be a scrappy one. Maybe I shall keep ye as me pet instead o’ takin’ ye back,” he said, his voice making me shiver.

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  I dropped the broken piece of the brush as his hand snaked out to grab mine, bringing it to his face. Just as he had done with Aunt May, he placed his mouth over my wound. I tugged on my arm, trying to wrench it from him, but his grip was unyielding.

  What I hadn’t expected was the sucking sensation, and how, instead of feeling afraid, I felt alive for the first time since I was a child. Since before my parents died.

  He tossed my hand away with a strange look. “What did they feed ye? Ne'er mind, I ain’t really care. I be full anyway.” His head turned toward the door. “Craig! I found her, but ye can have the lass. She ain't worth the trouble of bringin’ back.”

  Dom pushed me on the bed and shook his head. “Ye were almost the perfect pet. Such a waste.”

  He walked out of the room as his cohort came in, licking his lips. He was equally as grungy as Dom, even missing a tooth as his grinned at me. My body trembled at the thought of his filthy hands touching me.

  I closed my eyes, finally giving up, finally willing to die and praying it would be over quickly.

  Chapter 2

  Heat seeped into my skin, my body hummed, and the agony I had experienced during the attack was gone. The afterlife was better than I expected. That was, until the coughing began, and I realized it wasn’t a welcome warmth I was feeling, it was fire.

  I was somehow still alive, but I wouldn’t be for long if I stayed in our burning house. Lifting my eyelids, I looked around. The room was filled with smoke, and I heard the crackling sound of flames as they devoured the wooden walls of my home.

  With stinging eyes and burning lungs, I lugged myself off the bed and grasped the wall, trying to steady my legs. I thrust the door open and stumbled out into the hallway. Flames licked up the walls, creating a picture of what I imagined hell would look like.

  Glancing down toward the living room, I saw two prone figures laying on the floor face down. Aunt May and Uncle David were unmoving and lifeless. Overbearing emotions clogged my throat as tears coursed down my cheeks. I took a hesitant step toward them, then stopped at the realization that there was nothing I could do. They were gone. Drained of life by the intruders.

  No, not intruders.

  Vampires.

  The word came unbidden to the forefront of my mind, as I made my way toward the kitchen and the only door that opened to the outside. Reaching up to push the hair away from my face, I remembered the cut on my hand from the broken brush. It was hard to tell through the smolder, but it didn’t appear to be as bad as I had thought at the time.

  Nothing was making any sense to me, and the smoke was only making my brain slow more. I had to get out of the house.

  Gathering the bottom of my dressing gown, I dashed for the door, as renewed strength and resolve to live coursed through me. Flames lapped at me as I moved further into the house, burning my exposed skin and clothes. I ignored the pain, adrenaline flooding through me and pushing me toward safety.

  Flinging the door open, I ran out of the house toward the stables, but my steps faltered when I saw that the structure was also on fire. Fighting a frustrated scream, I glanced around and looked for a safe place to go.

  Nothing moved in the darkness, except for the shadows from the dancing fire that was slowly burning my world to ash. My body instinctively turned itself to the road that led to town. Would the townspeople see the smoke? Would they come to help? Or was our small farm too far away to be noticed?

  Despair threatened to choke me, but I pushed it aside, taking several deep breaths of the semi-smoke free air to clear my thoughts. As the house and barn burned, I knew there was only one other place I might find refuge while I attempted to figure out what happened and how I had survived it.

  The miles between our small farm and Pierce’s plantation were few, but they stretched unendingly before me. My feet were bare and coated with dirt as I walked unsteadily in the darkness of the night.

  My thoughts kept trying to make sense of why we were attacked. My first thought had been because I was Pierce’s fiancé. They seemed to be interested in me, but I didn’t understand why they would leave me to die in a burning house. If they had come for me and told Uncle David, he would have given me up willingly. When it came to me or anything else, Uncle David would have handed me over without question. There had to be something I was missing, but my smoke-fogged brain couldn’t see another answer.

  I also couldn’t think of a reason why Pierce would be mixed up with the blood drinkers.

  I pushed the thoughts away as Pierce’s plantation came into view, lit by the full moon. Manicured trees lined the roadway, speaking of opulence. The house that sat at the end was abrupt and breathtaking. However, I’d seen the estate enough times in the past several months, that I was no longer impressed by it.

  Other ladies of the limited society in Port Victory gushed over Pierce and his riches, but not me. The shallowness that they exhibited made me ashamed to be associated with them. I hadn’t had a choice then, and I supposed that I didn’t have one now, either.

  Climbing the steps to the front door was the hardest. I was going to my fiancé, a man I despised, to ask for his help. He was the only living person I knew who could help me.

  Everyone else was dead.

  Taking a deep breath, I paused at the door and fought back tears. I needed to get inside before I broke down. I needed to understand what had happened. The previous smoke inhalation still burned my lungs, making me question once again how I was still alive.

  The vampires had left me to burn in my house.

  It was still hard to wrap my mind around.

  For reasons unknown, I had survived not only the attack, but the fire. It was a miracle, but I wasn’t sure it was a blessing.

  My fingers lifted to touch my neck, remembering Craig’s stale breath on me right before he sank his teeth into my delicate skin. Suddenly, confusion swept through me. I couldn’t feel any marks where I vividly remembered being bitten.

  Before I could dwell on the oddity of how there were no puncture wounds on me, the door opened and a serving girl dressed in a uniform stepped out onto the veranda. Her eyes glanced over me without any indication that she had seen me. A sudden jolt of fear skittered down my spine, and I wondered briefly if I was a ghost.

  Finally, her face twisted in horror as she took in my inappropriate state. I imagined I was quite the sight, with nothing more on than a burned and bloody nightgown, with soot covering my skin.

  “My name is Lavinia Maycott.” I spoke first, since she seemed to be struck by silence. “I’m here to see Pierce,” I informed, my voice raspy and sore from the smoke.

  Her eyes widened as I gave her my name. “Of course, Lady Lavinia, please come in.”

  I followed her into the foyer, extra aware of my filthy feet, and she gestured for me to walk with her down a short hallway, which led to a bathing chamber. She bustled into the room, then proceeded to pour steaming water from a pot into a wash basin, placing a washcloth and a bar of soap on the table beside the bowl, then turned to me expectantly.

  “Please clean up. I will find a dress for you to change into. Once you are unsoiled and presentable, I will take you to Lord Pierce. I’m sure he won’t mind being disturbed to see you,” she explained before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

  I stepped toward the basin, intending to do what I had been told, but the reflective glass on the wall caught my eye and I gasped. I had known it was bad when I glanced down at myself on the walk over, but nothing could have prepared me for the dried blood and grime streaking across my upper body.

  Hurriedly, I wet the washcloth with the warm water and soap, then began to scrub the filth from my face and neck. The more I cleaned, the more alarmed I became.

  There were no wounds. It wasn’t possible to lose that much blood without a scra
tch, but looking now, my skin was unmarred. No scar, wound, or imperfection of any kind. Not even any burn marks from the flames I ran through to flee the house.

  I placed the washcloth back on the basin, removed my gown, and stared at myself in the glass. If I ignored the grime, I appeared the same as when I had dressed for bed earlier that night. With shaking hands, I dumped the dirty water, then poured in more from the pot. I rewet the cloth and scrubbed until my skin was pink and angry.

  I decided to ignore my lack of wounds until morning. I had no idea what time it was, but I needed rest before I could fully process what had happened to me—or hadn’t happened as apparently was the case.

  Just as I finished drying off, a knock sounded at the door, and a call from the serving girl announced that she had brought me fresh clothing. After opening the door for her, I stepped back so she could enter. She waltzed in, her small arms barely holding the large bundle of fabric, and deposited all the clothing onto a stool that was positioned to the side of the wash basin.

  Withdrawing several things, she turned to me, holding up new under clothes. Mine were stained and burned in places, so I had no problem tugging them off and tossing them by the door. She helped me dress, lacing up the ties in back, then continued with the dreaded corset and more fastening.

  Finally, she picked up the dress and I got a good look at it. It was splendid. The color was a deep crimson that reminded me of the sky in the morning before a storm. The red was so rich and smooth that I couldn’t keep my hands off of it.

  With aloof efficient movements, the serving girl had the dress on me and laced before I could wrap my mind around the beauty of it. My hands continued to brush over the soft material.

  “Come with me,” the girl said, opening the door and walking through to the hallway.

  Pausing, I focused on her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” I was beginning to tire of referring to her as “the girl” or “servant”.

  A small smile appeared on her face as she turned back to me. “Eve. My name is Eve.”

  As she continued out the door, I obediently followed her down the hallway, through the parlor, and into a small sitting room. I had been coming to this house so often in the months since my engagement to Pierce that I knew my way around fairly well.

  I perched on the small settee, my back rigid and straight from the tight corset.

  “Lord Pierce will be with you momentarily,” Eve said briskly before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

  I frowned at her strange behavior. I had never seen her before, and I wondered if I could have easily overlooked her on one of my previous visits. Shame weighed heavily on me at the realization that it was a likely possibility.

  I was born to a lower-class merchant and his wife. I would have been lucky to land a job as a serving girl, but because of the negotiating my uncle had done, my standing had been elevated.

  Voices sounded from the next room that I knew to be Pierce’s private study. When my breathing became more difficult, I stood and started to pace the room. As I passed the door connecting the two rooms, I noticed it was ajar. Drawing closer, I listened to the rumble of voices, trying to distinguish what they were saying.

  “Was she alone?” Pierce asked.

  “Yes, my lord,” Eve answered.

  “And?” he snarled.

  “She was covered in blood, but I don’t think she’s been turned,” she added hastily.

  “Are you certain?” Pierce’s voice became deep and dangerous.

  “She smells like us, but her heart still beats strong. She had no marks on her, so something went wrong. She’s very disoriented at the moment.”

  Uneasy silence caused me to hold my breath as I waited for what they would say next. I was beginning to realize I shouldn’t have come to Pierce for help. Something was very wrong with the situation I found myself in.

  “I had hoped when I sent Dom and Craig out there that she would be turned, but I can handle that later. Where is Lavinia now?”

  “I showed her into the sitting room, my lord.” Eve’s voice quavered, showing fearful emotion for the first time.

  “Very well. I’ll deal with her shortly, after I condemn Dom and Craig for not doing their job. If they think they can disobey me, they will soon realize that I’m just as formidable as Prime. Go check and make sure the pirates aren’t completely destroying my town,” Pierce snapped dismissively.

  My heart beat rapidly as if it would gallop from my chest. Pierce had sent the vampires to our house. He was the reason my only living family was dead. I didn’t know how to process any of what I had overheard.

  The memory of my aunt’s neck breaking and the sounds of the men feeding on her and my uncle had revulsion churning in my stomach. Pierce wanted me to be like the vampires. I shuddered at the thought.

  Wildly, I looked around the sitting room for a weapon or an escape. With no weapons in sight, I used quick footsteps to cross the room. My hand was reaching for the handle before I even registered that I had moved at all. Fearful that Eve had locked my only way out, I braced myself for disappointment, but the handle gave way easily.

  After pulling open the door enough that I could squeeze through into the parlor, my eyes roamed the room to find it empty. Thankful that my feet were still bare, I hurried to the front entrance. My senses were heightened as I listened to the sounds of the house. Nothing stirred.

  Quickly, I stepped outside and closed the door as silently as possible behind me. Glancing around, I tried to decide which direction I should go. I couldn’t go back to the farm. There wouldn’t be anything there anymore. Tears gathered in my eyes, but I pushed them aside to decide what I should do next.

  On the side of the veranda was a crate full of shoes. I couldn’t go on the run barefoot, so I used precious moments to dig out the smallest pair I could find. They were still a size too big, but I tightened the straps as best I could and didn’t complain.

  Turning toward the direction of town, I grasped my dress, dashed down the steps, and ran for the tree line. The corset dug into my ribs painfully, but I ignored the discomfort. My only thought was to get as far away from Pierce as I could, before he could ‘deal with me’.

  Once I broke through to the other side of the trees, fields stretched before me, full of ripe plants. I ran between the rows, tripping and stumbling my way toward the distant lights of town.

  When I entered the next field, a shout pierced the silent night. Terrified, I scrambled faster, searching for a place to hide. Trees lined the opposite side of the field and I hastened toward them, telling myself that I’d be safe if I could only reach the foliage. Running footsteps sounded behind me, spurring me forward, but not quickly enough to escape.

  Rough hands grabbed me, stopping my momentum, and spun me around.

  Dom smiled down at me. His crooked teeth peeked through the sadistic grin that spread across his face, promising pain this time.

  A scream built in my throat, and as I let it loose, Dom pushed me into the ground. My hands scrambled for anything I could use to defend myself. My fingers wrapped around a stick, and I jabbed it into his neck while he landed on top of me. The measly branch broke in half, barely making a scratch and leaving a short piece in my hand.

  “Ye little wench!” He leaned back, distracting himself by checking his neck. I used that sliver of time to clamber to my feet, making a run for it once again.

  I broke through the tree line and turned to see if Dom was chasing after me. Not seeing anything, I continue forward only to run head-first into a hard chest. Arms like iron bands wrapped around me, locking me in place. With a whimper, I struggled against the unmoving man with all my strength.

  Nothing happened.

  “Lady Lavinia?” The man I was pressed against said my name like a question.

  Looking up, I saw a face that wasn’t Dom’s gazing down at me with warm eyes, eyes I knew and had come to care for during my recent visits to Pierce’s estate.

  Jameson was a wo
rker I had first seen around the plantation when Pierce had given me a tour. I continued to run into him when I would take walks during Pierce’s frequent meetings. My heart had grown fonder of him with each meeting, but I had always known the feelings were pointless. I had already been promised to Pierce.

  “Ah, thanks fer catchin’ the lass, Jameson.” Dom’s voice sounded from behind me.

  Cringing against Jameson, I watched as Dom stepped closer to us, a hand snaking out to grab my wrist. I cried out as his nails dug into the soft flesh of my arm, drawing blood. The stick I still held dropped uselessly from my hand, and my last shred of hope disappeared as Dom pulled me toward him.

  Chapter 3

  Jameson tightened his arms around my waist before Dom could pull me from his grasp. I glanced up at his face, into his cerulean eyes, to find him staring at me with an astonished look. For a brief moment, I forgot there was a vampire attacking me, but I was brought back to reality all too soon.

  Yelping in pain, I brought my attention back to Dom as his hand continued to squeeze my wrist, threatening to break the bone.

  Jameson drew me back to him. “Let her go.” His voice was hard and unyielding.

  “The wench be spoken for. Go find yer own,” Dom hissed. Jameson’s body trembled against me as he snarled at Dom.

  I had always been uncertain if Jameson returned my feelings, but the way he held me told me they might be returned; I wished I could have taken a moment to enjoy that thought.

  “What ye doin' out here anyway?” Dom continued, when Jameson didn’t speak. “Ye supposed to be watchin' the boats, slave.”

  Now, it was my turn to tremble. Jameson works with Dom? I was beginning to think I had read the situation wrong and wouldn’t see the sunrise in a few hours.

  “I’m not your slave, nor am I Pierce’s any longer.”

  Dom smirked and released my arm. “He be interested to know that. How do ye reckon to survive here without him?”