Home > Rebel Bitten(3)

Rebel Bitten(3)
Author: Lexi C. Foss

“Try not to catch anything,” he tossed back at me.

“She’s a human, not a raccoon,” I returned. Not that vampires could catch zoonotic diseases, or any others for that matter.

“Seems more like a rat,” I heard him mutter before opening the door to his vehicle. He’d driven one of those four-by-fours out here, the kind that revved loudly. I had a few in my garage, most over a century old.

One of the perks of country living was having adequate storage space. I had more than enough resources to live out here for a few more centuries alone. The world had gone to shit a hundred and seventeen years ago when vampires and lycans took charge and demoted humans to the position of cattle.

I wanted none of it.

Did I agree that vampires and lycans were the superior species? Hell yes. We sat at the top of the food chain. But that didn’t mean I fancied turning my prey into meek little rabbits. What fun was it to hunt a rodent when we used to chase tigers?

Seducing women into bed had been a fun pastime.

Now they just knelt like good little girls and sucked cock on autopilot.

Fuck. That.

I wanted to work for it. Make my conquest cry out for more, not just cry because it hurt. Well, I wasn’t opposed to the latter, but I preferred it in combination with the former.

“What about you, little warrior?” I asked the female in my arms as I reached the edge of my driveway. “How do you take cock?”

Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head, making a reply impossible.

She was barely even breathing now.

I sighed. “It’s just not fun anymore,” I told her. “You mortals are all conditioned to bend over and take it. Which has its rewards and benefits, but it takes the excitement out of things.”

I took the stairs up my porch two at a time, then kicked my door open with the heel of my boot.

The alarms I had rigged up didn’t flare, my technology recognizing my body scan upon approach. I paused, listening for anything out of the ordinary, and found it all peaceful and quiet. Just the way I liked it.

I nearly smiled until I recalled the reason I’d left my sanctuary almost a week ago.

Fucking Silvano.

He’d waltzed through my backyard like a king, setting off every damn alarm along the way. I’d been so pissed that I’d followed him to Clemente Clan, just to see what he was up to.

When all hell broke loose, I’d stayed, somewhat amused by the fight.

A huge mistake—something I’d learned the second Lilith arrived. That bitch fancied herself a Goddess. “The only thing regal about Lilith is her ostentatious tower in Chicago,” I muttered, heading down the stairs to my basement. “And that would look better as a pile of rubble.”

The hierarchy of this world made no sense.

And now I was part of it.

Maybe Damien was right about the punishment being mine.

Well, I’d certainly make Lilith’s life hell, too, just for fun.

It’d also been my idea to step up, mostly because I didn’t want that bitch anywhere near my property.

Why did everyone worship her? She was just an ordinary vampire, and a younger one at that. At least when compared to me and Kylan. And Cam.

Where the hell is Cam?

I didn’t believe for a second he was dead.

That asshole was at the bottom of a pit somewhere, just waiting to be found. His Erosita was living and breathing up in Majestic Clan, something no one else seemed to notice. But I did. Just as I recognized a plot brewing between Jace and Kylan. Hopefully, it would involve Lilith’s demise.

The female in my arms gasped, not in surprise but in a last-ditch effort to save herself.

“Right.” I knelt and laid her across the concrete floor. “Now what am I going to do with you?”

I ran my finger along her neck, then down her sternum to the jagged marks across her stomach. It seemed someone had done surgery on her with teeth and claws rather than proper surgical equipment.

“You came from the breeding camp,” I guessed. My property unfortunately bordered the farm of homes used to create more Clemente Clan lycans. Would Edon continue the practice? I wondered. Something about the new alpha struck me as different from the others of his kind. He seemed almost humanized.

Watching his leadership might prove interesting.

Not that I cared enough to truly engage.

Of course, if I remained a royal, I wouldn’t have a choice.

“So many decisions,” I mused out loud, taking stock of the little warrior’s injuries once more. I could see why the lycans chose her for breeding. She had nice hips. Toned legs. Her breasts were a bit small, but some calories would fix that right up. Same with her protruding ribs.

“Hmm.” I brought my wrist to my mouth and bit down. “Let’s see what a little bit of my blood does for you, shall we?” I pressed the open wound to her lips, allowing my life essence to seep into her. “You’re going to need to swallow, little one.”

She didn’t comply right away, which only made her gurgle as she began to choke.

With a dramatic exhale, I repositioned myself on the ground and used my opposite hand to guide her head onto my thigh to a better angle for drinking. Her throat began to work automatically, as if her spirit had taken over and recognized the gift I offered her.

I stroked my fingers through her hair while she fed, whispering encouragement under my breath. If Damien saw me, he’d gape. Because this wasn’t me at all. It just seemed like the right thing to do for my new pet.

“When you’re more coherent, we’ll pick a name,” I told her softly. “Or perhaps you already have one. I’m good with that, too.” Unless it was something like Veronica or Whitney. I didn’t much care for those.

Actually, there were a lot of names I didn’t like.

So maybe I would have to pick one for her.

My wound began to close, so I reopened it and pressed it to her lips again. “Keep drinking,” I ordered. “When you’re done, I’ll bathe you.”

Then I’d end up either eating her or playing for a while.

It depended on how entertaining she proved to be.

For her sake, I hoped she showed more than a little fire. Otherwise, I’d just wind up dousing her flames and extinguishing her life. For good.

 

 

3

 

 

Willow

 

 

Cold.

Hard.

Cement.

I nearly groaned at the feel of it pressing into every inch of my body, the unforgiving substance the bane of my existence. There were so many times I just wanted to crawl into the concrete and hide, but I couldn’t. It left me exposed. Vulnerable. Pained.

Except, I didn’t feel all that agonized right now, which was strange because I could tell I’d slept for some time on the ground. Usually, I awoke achy and sore after my naps, but my limbs felt alive today. Energized.

I stretched, my muscles loosening and warming in response. Odd. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this alive.

My lips curled down.

Actually, I couldn’t remember much at all. Everything felt foggy, as if I’d existed in a haze all my life and I was just now coming out of it.

It must be the drugs, I thought, rolling onto my back to stare up at the iron bars over my head. My eyes widened. Those are new.

I glanced left—more bars. Same to my right.

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