Surrendering:Regent Vampire Lords Novel(4)By: K.L. Kreig
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.
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.
“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.