Vicious In Love by D.D. Dass (ebook reader with highlight function TXT) 📕

He didn’t dare glance at her body, sure that the bulge in his leathers was already noticeable enough. Growling under his breath, he grabbed his duffle bag, pulling out the highly unnecessary leather gloves and pulling them over his hands. The damned things were restricting, but in his fucked up sense, double standards were idiotic, and he wouldn’t make the females wear them if he didn’t.

Peering at his iPhone, he realized the sun had fallen only ten minutes ago, which meant they were all early. He often came here early; working off his agitation until training began, though today he’d woken earlier, as if knowing the girl would be here. Of course she should not have been, such was the rules, but the girl didn’t come off as one to follow those anyway.

No, from the little Nick spoke of her, she wouldn’t follow rules. Which was another problem. Yet he had to admit, grudgingly enough, that she was speedy in her actions. Speedy but sloppy all the same.

Flushed and lovely, he’d watched her pound at the punching bag, inexpertly. It was expected though, she’d been bitter, angry, the only excuse for such sloppy blows. That made him even more curious. Betrayal? She was young, a little girl basically, but on another stance, she was right. Who was he? Despite his self-disgust, he smiled because he basically was old enough to be a human’s father.

Ian knew it didn’t matter, so he threw the nagging thoughts away, placing his daggers neatly across the steel counterpane. Using his personal daggers was a risk he was—or he convinced himself he was willing to take, though it’d bother him if one was lost. Each dagger was made by the Goddess, symbolized and named…They were his.

The male in him didn’t want to admit his race was more important than his daggers. They didn’t purposely irritate him. Like the ramai or the girl.

In a matter of minutes the room was swarming with females of all sizes, sneaking nervous glances at him before keeping up quiet conversation. He didn’t know how much there was to actually talk about, but he’d always been withdrawn from the ramai’s world. All he’d ever known was his father and Nick. And with the one, talking hadn’t been exactly tolerated.

For the hundredth time this year he wondered why he was even doing this. Oh, right, his supposed best friend had trapped him into it. “The good of the civilization…It’ll be easy Ian.”His idea of “easy” was completely screwed.

He hadn’t minded training females until he realized just how…lacking in fighting knowledge some were. And he had a hunch that most of these girls only wanted to ogle him. It was frustrating. They were, so why didn’t they fascinate him?   

Sighing heavily, he lifted a dagger and twirled it in his hand with enough speed that if the blade even grazed one of his fingers, it’d be cut straight through. Not that it wouldn’t grow back, but it’d probably hurt like hell.

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered to himself, turning to face the scary creatures called women.

“Please.” It was the girl’s mutter, low enough that only some caught it and gaped. He decided to ignore that and directed his attention to the blade.

“Anyone know how to use a dagger?” His voice was intentionally low. The room was silent now.

“Simple.” He shot her a wry look, but otherwise, ignore that as well.

“Anyone else?” This was getting damn old. Nobody answered and okay, topic change.

“What is the only possibly way to destroy an other?” Everyone began to look around, searching to see if anyone knew the answer and he sighed again, about to tell with Nick’s female chirped, “A stab to the heart.” Goddess she was confident.

“Anything else?” he challenged.

“The blood of a Vampire, though I doubt they’re stupid enough to try that.”

“Give someone else a chance,” he shot back, dragging his eyes to her smiling face, blue eyes testing.

“Alright then female, why does it take a stab to the heart to execute them?”

Trying to best her now? As if.

This time around, he was slightly shocked when she was correct. “Being forever frozen, their only living organ able to keep the dark energy festering is the heart cavity, most protected from attack.” His eyes snapped back to her, eyebrows furrowing at the proud look on her face, as if that answer had been…out there.

She was well-educated and it showed.

He resisted the urge to clear his throat. “Exactly. Grab a dagger, females.” The women hurried forward, grabbing at them. Nick’s girl took hers, aware of his gaze apparently since she twirled her finger at the point. If she wanted to hurt herself, he’d be damned to stop her…

Distracting him one female actually went for the blade. Tracing before she could, he snatched the hilt and glared. “Never grab the blade,” he almost groaned, unable to comprehend how brainless someone could be.

It was common bloody sense.

Two hours felt like an eternity. All but one female failed miserably at their attempts to stab the thick interior of the dummy-other’s chest cavities. He watched, slightly impressed at the amount of grace she had as she plunged the dagger through, shoving upwards, past the ribs, and into where the heart would stay. Where had she learnt to do that? The accuracy was too perfected.

Vaguely, he thought the dagger in her left hand would be welcomed into his own black heart. Anything to stop this torturous training.

“Enough.” Instant obedience, thank Goddess. “Just place the daggers where you found them.”

They were quick to leave. The raven haired girl placed hers down with care and turned on her heels. His hand mechanically shot out and gripped her arm, electric shocks ran up his arm. She flinched, trying unsuccessfully to rip from his hold.

Really, she should’ve known better.

“Will you lay off?!” His lips threatened to tilt up, but he shook his head. The girl had something in common with her father, they both fucked with his feelings. Still, he didn’t want to let go just yet, he wanted to take in the burning sensation, so different than he’d ever before felt.

“Why not?” She sounded distressed and he had to smile, just a bit, though when her head snapped up, it was already gone. No way he’d let her read his emotions that easily.

She couldn’t have that power over him. Nobody could.

“Well,” he drawled. “I’m not one to be told what to do, little girl.” She was no more special than the others and he intended to make that known.

But she is. He worked his jaw, unaware that his hold had tightened until the girl winced, fidgeting. He loosened up, but kept a good hold.

“Again, my lord, you underestimate me.” And she kicked him where it counted.

Pain traveled up his body, and he managed to keep horizontal, though not by much. He hissed, catching his breath as she headed towards the door. She thought she was going somewhere, funny.

He traced directly behind her, seizing her wrist in one hand and waist in the other before knocking her feet so that she tripped with a startled gasp. Smirking, he knelt, brushing stray hairs away from her face in a mocking manner. The pain in his abdomen made his balanced slightly off.

She knew how to kick. Hard at that.

“What the hell do you want from me?” she demanded.

“Your name, female.” She scowled, but rose to her feet in a fluid movement, crossing her arms over her chest, bringing his attention to her breasts, trailing down to the bare, flat skin of her belly. His hands began to burn to cup those breasts, to hear her beg.

Her reply snapped those thoughts away. “Does it really matter much?” Ian cocked his head to the side. He didn’t like the way she was talking to him.

“Does your father know ‘bout that smart mouth of yours?” he muttered. Pretty, smart mouth.

She rolled her eyes condescendingly. “Smart mouth? My lord, I assure you I was under the impression you did not care to know my name”

“Your name,” he simply repeated. He didn’t expect her answered grin, and he sure as hell didn’t expect his reaction either. One second he was frustrated, the next his muscles tightened in want as his gaze fell to those lips, tipped in amusement, looking rosier and so kissable.

One little taste, his Vampire urged and her lips beckoned.

“Beth.” Beth? Elizabeth? Bethany? Or just Beth? He wagered it was Elizabeth, it was a name from the Axvem Scrolls and he knew Nick. He knew how much he honored those Scrolls. Besides, the young female was anything but plain which meant, ultimately, he needed to leave her be.

Going on that thought, he commanded himself to step back, but his legs wouldn’t listen. He growled under his breath, staring down into the blueness of her inquisitive eyes.  

And almost drowned there. Would have, were it not for his instinct to get as far away as possible. He traced back to his daggers, leaning on the table, acting as easy as he could manage.

“Ian,” he supplied, shocked he’d given her his name at all. Her eyebrows creased in confusion, and he almost smiled. Two times in a day? What the fuck was he on? It was unnerving that this one brat could make him smile. What was it with her that made him want to—?

“My name is Ian,” he clarified slowly as her eyes widened.  

“Um, my lord” she just about squeaked, backing up until she exited through the doors abruptly. Alone, he shrugged, wondering half-heartedly, what he’d done to make her run.

You should have known better than talking to her.  He growled. Fuck her then.

His mind cleared from anger, he decided he was relieved she’d left before he’d gone and made himself look more of an idiot. He was emotionless, he depended on being that way, but around the girl –Beth, he lost control of his natural defenses and that was unsafe.

He had to stay away from her, and his curiosity, because neither was good for him. Then again, when did he ever do anything good for himself?

∞∞∞

Beth practically ran to her bedroom, trying to steady her breathing as she leaned on her door.

Ian. His name was Ian Derik Payne, leader of Vampire Civilizations five covens. It sounded strong to her ears, masculine and blunt, just like him.

Don’t think of him as Ian, it’s Lord Derik, she chastised herself. Yet every time she pictured him in her head, it was Ian.

This was going way too far. She needed to forget him, like he would do her. Without another thought, she stripped down, showering in steamy water before snuggling into her fluffy bed.

She couldn’t wait until the transitional waiting for over, until she wasn’t so hot and hungry all the time. She smiled to herself in the darkness, hot and hungry?, more like hot and horny.

Her iPhone began to ring, the song ‘We Found Love’ shrilling until she couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed it from the nightstand, only to find twenty messages unread and even more missed calls.

All from Vince and Maggie.

Beth skimmed through them, tears pricking her eyes and hurt slamming into her lungs with every apology. She loathed him…but she loved him. What was wrong with her?

She thought she was over the pain of betrayal, but the more he continued to attempt to talk to her, the more she hated him. The more she wanted his friendship more than anything.

Shutting her eyes, she hurled the phone away from her, smashing it against the wall as angry sobs shook her frame. If life was unfair, love was that way to.

Oddly enough though, when she calmed enough that sleep stole her, it wasn’t Vincent’s voice that lolled her to sleep, but Ian’s. Deep and arrogant, the perfect lullaby.

Thump, thump, thump!  Footsteps sounded outside her door, loud and heavy as Beth groggily awoke, stumbling to the door to crack it open. Through bleary eyes, she found hers brothers