Vampire Mated

Chapter 1.

Chapter 1.

Sadie.

I never thought I’d be here. Standing in a little room, at what is officially my father’s funeral.

I stared out at the sea of people before me, dressed as somberly as I was. It was an ocean of black and grey with the occasional flash of silver from a mostly hidden blade or g*n, sparkling eyes and muscled arms.

I took a deep breath and began, “Thank you all for coming today. I know my dad would have been glad that you did.”

My throat clogged up again, as though a hand was being wrapped around my windpipe. I coughed to clear the knot. This was something I wanted to do. Something I had to do. “Ah... Dad was not a formal sort of guy and he wouldn’t have wanted his funeral to be that way, either. I’ve asked you all here today to say a few words about my father, then we can remember him over a glass of whiskey and the food that will be served right after.”

There was a smile or two in the sea of faces as I began my speech about Dad’s life. Where he’d grown up, what he’d accomplished. His short marriage to my mother and, of course, his business. His pride and joy.

Most of the men in the room either worked for Dad, or were his clients. They were a tough, rough lot. As I glanced up from my speech on occasion, I could see a swarm of tattoos and gnarly expressions.

Dad’s people.

When I’d finished what I needed to say, Terry stepped up out of the crowd and my heart squeezed tightly to see his old, beloved face. “You came.”

“Of course, I did.” Terry said, then turned to address the crowd of men. “I think Jack would have wanted us all to have a drink and spend the afternoon reminiscing about him.. So, let’s all relax in the lounge. Sadie and some of the boys have set it up like a bar so everyone should be comfortable as heck.”

The men in the room all turned with a smile and left the parlor where we’d held the official ceremony. Dad’s urn was in the center of the room on a dais, and photos of him were displaying in a slow slide show on a large projection screen.

I glanced at the wall to my right. A photo of my parents on their wedding day shone there. My father was so very large, my mother, so small. And both were grinning like they’d won the lottery. And in the love stakes, they had.

And speaking of love...

“You okay?” Rogan asked quietly as he stepped up next to me and slid a possessive hand around my waist.

I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. I was glad that part was over. Now I could relax and truly celebrate the man my father had been. “Yeah, all good.”

Fridge stepped up in front of me, his hands thrust into the front pockets of his trousers. His huge chest and arms looked like they were about to burst out of the black shirt he wore. He was such a primitive looking man, with his size and unsettled aura.

I smiled up at him, seeing the tension in his face that I felt reflected in my own.

That muscle ticked in his jaw and his nostrils flared. Fridge was angry we hadn’t found Dad’s killer yet, and so was I.

But it was time for the funeral. My dad had been in a lot of battles throughout his life. He’d fought hard and long. And it was time for him to rest in peace.

“Are you going to bury him with your mom?” Fridge asked, lifting his head and gesturing towards the urn where my father’s ashes stood.

In our town, humans were buried, shifters were cremated, and vampires turned to dust. My mother had been buried, as everyone had assumed she was human. But she wasn’t. Not in the true sense. She was a full blood witch, not that anyone knew. No one except my cousin Shadow and my mates.

I nodded in answer to Fridge’s question. “Yeah. I think so. As a shifter... do you think that’s okay?”

Fridge snorted. “Of course, it is. Screw shifter law. Jack would have wanted to be with his wife.”

Hot tears trembled in my eyes at hearing the vehemence in Fridge’s voice.

“There was never anyone else for Dad, was there?” I asked Rogan and Fridge, then glanced over at my dad’s oldest friend, Terry, as he moved over to join our circle.

“No, never.” Terry answered, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “Your mom was his sun and moon.” Then Terry opened his arms to me. “Come here, sweetheart.”

I flew into Uncle Terry’s embrace, sobbing against his chest for a moment in sweet relief. Terry had been like a second father to me. Closer than any other family.

He wrapped his arms around me for a moment and kissed the top of my head. “Your father would have been proud of you today, kiddo. You did good.”

I sighed against his huge chest and when I felt strong enough to do so, stepped away, towards my mates.

Fridge’s hand found mine and he tugged me back to him.

Terry’s eyebrows fluttered up momentarily as his keen gaze took in both Fridge and Rogan’s protective stances over me. Terry was a full wolf shifter and would understand their body language better than most.

When his old, grey eyes came back to rest on my face part of me wanted to say, “I’ve got a vampire lover at home as well.”

And although it was partly true, it wasn’t necessary to rub my love life in Terry’s face. Especially since he’d known me since I was a child and would probably have trouble reconciling that image of me with the one I currently held.

I coughed to clear my throat and focused on Terry’s face. “We’ve been trying to find out who killed Dad, Terry. Have you heard anything in the pipeline about possible leads?”

Terry’s eye twitched for a second then he blinked rapidly, forcing it away.

I frowned. Nervous tick? Or did he know something? “Terry?”

“Um... you know I’ve been out of the game for a few years, Sadie.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and stared up at him. “That didn’t answer my question.”

A little smirk tugged at his lips. “No. It didn’t. You always were a sharp little tack.”

“What do you know, Uncle Terry?” I demanded, putting as much heat into my stare as possible.

He sighed and glanced to the ground at our feet, deliberately avoiding my gaze. “Nothing you can use, sweetheart. Seeking revenge would be suicide.”

I stepped closer and dropped my voice, pitching it only for Terry’s ears. “I know about the blood ring. About Mom. I know that the vampires want my dad’s contact lists.”

Terry’s head came up and his gaze snapped sharply into focus. “You know too much, little girl.”

It sounded strangely like a threat, but I pushed the thought aside. This man wasn’t an enemy.

“I don’t know who ordered my dad’s hit. And I don’t know which assassin pulled the trigger... so to speak. But I want to know. I deserve to know. And I’m not going to stop until my father is avenged.”

Terry hesitated, then opened his mouth to answer. But suddenly, a large hand clapped onto Terry’s shoulder, and the man I’d known since I was a little girl, shut up.

I glared at the newcomer. “Excuse me, we’re in a private conversation.”

The man slid up next to Terry and stared at me.

My breath caught in my throat. This was no man. It was an ancient vampire. One of the oldest in the city. A “Father,” as Vincent would call him.

He had long, silver hair, a high brow, and long, flowy black robes, which made him look like some sort of priest.

“I hope you will allow me to convey my condolences,” he said, his voice thin but somehow strong.

I relaxed a little, though my spine shivered with unease. Where was Vincent when we needed him? I wanted to know who this was, and where he sat in the hierarchy.

“Of course,” I managed to say. “Did you know my father?”

The vampire smiled and his fangs protruded over his lip.

I inhaled against the fear that pushed through my heart. Was he here to feed on us? Or was that normal for a vampire of his age?

He must have noticed our shock because he gestured to his teeth. “I apologize. Once you reach a thousand years old, they do not retract as they do in the young.”

I swallowed hard and glanced at Terry, who was looking uncharacteristically pale.

He was how old? Holy s**t!

“Thank you for explaining that... ah... I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“I am Bartholomew,” the vampire Father said and held out a wrinkled hand.

I took it, and shuddered at the coldness of his skin. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but an icicle wasn’t it.

“I’m Sadie Williams.” I said, probably unnecessarily. “And this is Fridge and Rogan. Two of the men who worked for my dad.” I gestured to my men, whose edges seemed to have sharpened since the vampire walked in.

“Charmed,” Bartholomew said, inclining his head.

He didn’t say anything else, but I had to assume he was here for a reason. I took a step closer and made eye contact with the paranormal who could be the one responsible for my father’s death. My stomach clenched at the thought and my mouth ran dry.

Was he here to gloat?

“I’m sorry,” I started, though I wasn’t sorry at all. “I don’t think you had time to answer my first question. Did you know my father at all?”

Bartholomew nodded and smiled again, flashing his gnarly fangs that made me shudder. How many people had he sunk those things into over the centuries he’d been alive?

Probably too many to count.

“I did. I was a client of your father’s business for many years. Terry was one of the men who worked my bounties, did you not... Terry?”

Terry nodded stiffly then met my gaze with an expression that spoke of true fear.

And my Uncle Terry wasn’t afraid of anyone. Or, at least he hadn’t been, back in the day.

Since when did my father work with vampires?

“Yes,” he squeaked, then cleared his throat loudly. “Yes, I was.”

I put up a hand, my heartbeat quickening with my impatience. “I’m sorry. But why do I get the feeling you’re here to deliver a message, Bart?”

The old vampire’s mouth twitched. He didn’t like the shortening of his name, obviously, but I didn’t take it back.

He wouldn’t dare attack me here, in broad daylight, surely? We had so many laws in this city about vampire feedings, and there were too many witnesses to buy off.

But suddenly his face cleared and he began to laugh.

I glanced at Rogan, then Fridge. They both looked as worried and surprised as I felt.

When I turned back to the vampire, he was grinning and chortling still.

“What’s so funny?” I asked him.

“You’re so much like your father,” he said, shaking his head. Then the laughing stopped and he met my gaze. “He never knew when to back down, Sadie, and I hope you’ll learn the lesson that he should have.”

Fridge’s rumbling growl rolled out beside me and I put a hand on his arm, stopping my mate from launching at the vampire in front of me.

Fridge may have been huge and powerful, but he was a thirty-year-old shifter with only moderate control over his dragon. He was no match for a truly ancient vampire.

Instead, I steeled myself to go toe-to-toe with the creep. “Are you threatening me?”

He grinned and inclined his head regally.

That was a yes?

I wanted to vomit. Here he was, literally telling me that he was the one who’d killed my father and he expected me to back off?

Another growl sounded, and this time it was from my left side. The wolf was enraged, and that was the last thing I needed. Rogan would never survive a clash with this vampire.

And in that moment, I saw with such clarity how important it was to keep my mates alive. Out of danger.

I wanted revenge for my father’s murder, but not at the expense of the men at my side.

Though my stomach twisted with anger and my fingers twitched to grab for the blade strapped to my ankle, I put my other hand out, halting Rogan. “Why are you here Bart? To spit in our faces?”

He frowned. “I would never do such a thing.”

I rolled my eyes. f*****g vampires were so literal. “Are you going to tell me who killed my father?”

He smiled, then slowly shook his head. “No. I cannot.”

I groaned, annoyed at the impotence of the whole situation. “Then why are you here?”

He fixed me with a stare. “To tell you to keep your nose out of our business. Or you... my dear... will find yourself in an urn, right beside your father.”