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Presidential Vampire: Fate of the Union
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Table of Contents
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Thank You!
Book Three of the Presidential Vampire Series
By Holly Hook
Copyright 2021 by Holly Hook
Today I messed up.
"I'm back. Open your eyes and brace yourself."
That Jeremy is holding my hand in both of his like that is not good. He's shaking. I continue to lie there on the bed or cot or whatever, and the smell of the cotton sheets invades my nostrils. It mixes with the crisp smell of Jeremy's suit and the old paint on the walls. Shit, I can smell everything, and the tapestry of scents wars for dominance in my mind.
Three days.
According to Jeremy, I've been unconscious for three days.
That long ago, Senator Goodman transfused his blood into me.
I only had to stall the procedure for a few more minutes because rescue arrived.
But I didn't.
I lost hope. I told Dr. Fletcher to start the procedure so Goodman wouldn't kill him and his family.
So technically, three days ago, I messed up.
"Ember." Jeremy whispers so low that I'm sure he doesn't want me to wake. The First Son's voice is impossibly loud for how quiet he's trying to be.
I groan.
"You're awake." He takes a breath, and I hear every ounce of trepidation in his voice. His tone is still as melt worthy as ever, only more so, because now it has a deep, rumbling undertone I couldn't detect before. "Okay. We're going to handle this joy one bit at a time."
He sounds like Silvia.
One thing at a time. She was always so confident I could handle things, that I was tough, that I was exceptional. But she's gone.
Now Jeremy is here.
He must be in hell.
He was one rescuer, and he broke into Goodman's mansion only after the transfusion started—"Step One. Open your eyes."
A snake of dread curls with its black, beady eyes on me. It flicks out its tongue, ready to strike.
But I open my eyes.
Fluorescent light invades. I blink as it stabs my eyes. Florescent lights give off hints of every color? The one above me buzzes as well, and the sound gets under my skin, right along with all the smells. We're in a space the size of a small bedroom, with the concrete brick walls painted white. Pipes line the ceiling, and I know we're in the bunker that shelters the Diamond headquarters.
Then Jeremy leans overhead, still grasping my hand and looking down at me. He curls his fingers around my hand. His bright green gaze meets mine as his hair hangs over one side of his perfect cheekbones.
His grasp sends electricity racing under my skin, and I flinch.
He's just a foot away, the red lines in his eyes dark with emotion. Jeremy keeps his face neutral, but it's a mask. He's struggling. Shaking. I know what he wants to ask. Why did you let Goodman find you? You promised not to let them use you.
I wanted to help people for once.
Running wasn't an option anymore.
It was my decision.
I take a breath. Now I've made my bed. I look away from Jeremy, hating the tortured sheen in his eyes.
The white sheets around me lie ripped to shreds, as if I've spent the last three days fighting them.
And fighting the war that Goodman's blood waged on my body.
Panic surges. I let out a squeak. I scramble against the ripped sheets as I sit up. My stomach cramps, and Jeremy reaches out with his suited arms, pulling me up so that I'm sitting beside him on the bed. Tremors race through my body. I'm still wearing the same dress pants as I was when Goodman flew me to Colorado. The same blouse, though it's intact from my thrashing.
"Don't stand up yet," he instructs, voice low.
My body.
My curves…my waist…all deadly perfect.
This isn't mine.
A wave of dizziness sweeps over me, and I let my head tilt onto Jeremy's shoulder. He's the only solid thing in a world that is twisted around me. My stomach cramps again, and I grasp the front of his suit as he places his hand over mine, holding me there as he rubs his finger across the back of my hand.
"Don't move."
"Am I…am I—"
Jeremy swallows. "Yes. I'm sorry." Before I can react, he pulls me closer, holding me tight, as if he can shield me.
La, la, la, la…
Numbness. It's my friend. It's worked for me so far, saving my sanity during countless encounters with cutthroat politicians. It comes in and shoves out the snake of dread. I focus on the dark blue of Jeremy's suit. Just that. It's my only defense.
Slowly, Jeremy rocks me in his arms as the light continues to buzz. "Just sit here for now. This first night will be the hardest, but I'm with you the whole way."
And footfalls approach from a hallway outside. Shoes slap against linoleum, and though they sound as if they're half a mile away, I can hear them clearly.
Someone's running towards us.
And Jeremy, as if sensing the same, loosens his grasp on me and stands.
I grip the bed, still shaking, and struggle not to let my gaze drop to the floor. Wow, I'm sick. Yes. Sick. I'm sleeping still and delirious, and Goodman's wicked smile is just a part of this nightmare that is lasting way too long.
"Stay seated. Do not get up, or you will not like the results." He hardens his bright green stare, warning me. Then he faces the door.
The footfalls grow closer and closer, and then the sound of heavy breathing follows. "She's awake?"
My heart soars.
It's Mike.
My brother, who I thought I'd never see again. Yes. He was there. He broke into Goodman's mansion and showed him what happens when you mess with Texas—
Others shout behind him, but their words blend in my mind, each one vying for control.
"—not yet."
"Mike, we know you want to see Ember—"
"And I am going to see her!"
Representative Coffrey. Nathan. They're coming, too.
Jeremy throws his back against the door, working his jaw. He shakes his head at me, and his eyes shine with agony.
My head swims. I can't even tell him I didn't break my promise, or that I put myself in this situation out of my own free will. Or that he did nothing wrong. That'll require tearing down the wall that's holding out the hurricane. I'm in a movie, watching what's happening to the characters, and I must stay there.
I can't think about—
The metal door handle turns, and someone on the other side tries
to push in the door, but Jeremy stops him just by staying in place. And then Mike lets out his breath.
"Jeremy. You rich asshole," he shouts, beating on the door. "My kid sister is in there. The least you could do after you got her into this hell is to let me see her."
Emotion stabs through the wall of numbness. Tears shoot into my eyes. I want to see Mike just as much as I want Jeremy to hold me again. "Why aren't you letting him in?" I manage.
Jeremy looks at the floor as my brother pounds on the door again, with no chance of breaking past his supernatural strength. "Mike. We all know that this is Goodman's fault. Save your anger for him."
"Bullshit. He wouldn't have wanted her if you hadn't done this claiming thing that you told me about."
I want to stand, but my legs shake so badly that I fear I'll fall over, and another wave of stomach cramps follows that. My brother hates Jeremy. It's just as I feared.
"Step away from the door," Jeremy orders him.
Mike pounds again. The metal screeches in my ear.
"Mike. We said that you have to wait," Coffrey says. "It's normal that you're upset, but you need to understand."
"Away from the door." Nathan. "Let me through. It's safe for me and Jeremy."
The pounding stops, though I hear the air parting as Mike raises his fist for another swing. But he pauses and puts his arm down.
"I want to see my brother." My voice comes out weak and strained.
Jeremy slowly looks up at me, listens, and opens the door just enough for Nathan, his most trusted Secret Service agent, to squeeze through. He does, and then quickly slams the door behind him. "You will, but there's something we have to take care of first."
Another smell wafts in behind Nathan, riding on the breeze from the closed door.
It's the most intoxicating mixture of well-done steak, exotic spices, and maybe fine wine I've ever smelled. Another wave of stomach cramps hits me, and I lean over, grasping my gut. The smell is tempting, but it's also torture. What is wrong with me? "Shit."
And then the smell vanishes as Nathan stands there beside Jeremy, surveying me with his red-lined irises. They look at each other and then at me as Mike and Coffrey remain on the other side of the door.
I let the wall of numbness rise again, and I'm no longer in this scene.
Coffrey whispers to Mike, but it comes through the door loud and clear. "You don't want to be here right now. We have to have all the clues about the Scarborough cover story out tonight."
Though I can't see them, they step away from the door.
My brother mutters a tirade of swearing that mold together as he loses composure.
"We're still fighting, my friend," Coffrey says. "It's not over. We will destroy Senator Goodman by any means necessary."
His words are a hit to the chest.
Goodman. He's still alive, despite my brother pumping him full of lead.
I tighten my grasp on the bed. But I can't find the words. A hollow feeling fills my chest.
Nathan speaks first to Jeremy. "I'm sorry. I told Mike that Ember was awake. I heard the two of you talking. Emotion got the better of him when I thought that he had calmed down enough to give us his full cooperation."
"It's fine," Jeremy says in a tone that says that no, it isn't.
The panic snake bites at my barrier, cracking it, and I'm getting the idea that things are not fine.
Then Jeremy lets go of the door and walks towards me, leaning down enough to grasp both my arms.
"The change was hard on your body. It took seventy-two hours."
I just nod, not liking the look in his eyes.
"And your energy reserves have drained. Severely."
I sway in place as the panic snake lashes out again, and the crack widens.
Jeremy leans close. "Before you leave this room, you'll have to take care of that, or you'll be a danger to your brother."
CRACK.
I can hear my mental wall breaking down the middle, and a knife of panic stabs from the depths, making me stiffen.
"What?"
Jeremy kneels before me, deepening his frown, as if that can communicate all I need to know. "It's the only way to fix the severe loss of energy. Coffrey found a volunteer who is going to get paid very well, and Nathan and I will stop you before you go too far. This guy's a bodybuilder. Two hundred and seventy pounds. Very fit. He's done work like this before. He'll be able to take it."
I grasp the mattress harder. "Take what?"
CRACK.
Jeremy looks at the floor and then back at me. "You're in shock. Maybe it's best to get this done before you dwell on it." He looks at Nathan, who nods. "Then again, there is no good or gentle intro to this shit."
More footsteps approach from farther down the hall.
These are different. The owner is heavier, bulkier, because the gait is louder. I hear nerves in the way these feet scrape the floor, and I hear the air outside the door moving as Coffrey waves the newcomer closer.
"He's here," Nathan says, approaching me and taking my arm.
Jeremy shuffles over and grabs the other.
I tense. I do not like this. But I can't utter a word.
"I'm here," the unfamiliar man says, probably to Representative Coffrey. "Where's the check?"
"Here," Coffrey says, ripping something that's perforated. "Ten big ones."
The man does a nervous laugh. "Enough for maybe three months' worth of rent. You've got a deal." Then he knocks as a ball of nerves leaps into my throat. "Is it clear for me to come inside?"
Jeremy hesitates and looks at me from the side. "I apologize again and for the poor joke, but this is going to suck, and you are going to panic afterwards. And that's if all goes well."
"You're clear," Nathan shouts.
And the door clicks open.
A large, young man comes through who looks like he spends every day at the gym. Muscles ripple under his tank top and faint scars dance on his neck. He's got a friendly face and brownish-hazel eyes that he turns away from me as he tenses and seats himself in a plastic chair, placing one hand on the counter. "Okay. The faster we do this, the better."
Coffrey pulls the door shut from the outside, closing him in with us.
The smell.
It's back, invading my nostrils, stronger than ever. The smell that could be anything from the best steak ever to some exotic pasta dish to a sprinkle of glorious, fat-laden dessert. My stomach cramps with need as Jeremy and Nathan look at each other again and stand, grimacing.
The world blurs as I sway on my feet, and I pull against the two of them. The buzzing from the light increases. The big guy leans a bit to the side, and the scent intensifies.
I've got to get to it.
Is that a sheet of plastic under the guy's chair?
CRACK.
The panic snake strikes again.
"Let go," Nathan instructs. He releases me. "Jeremy. Get ready to jump in."
But Jeremy hesitates. He's shaking and looking at the floor. And finally, he lets go.
I sway there as the guy closes his eyes, as if he's bracing for—
Everything blurs again as I lunge forward. My body moves on its own. I've lost control. I seize the guy by the shoulders, and he steels himself, muscles tightening.
And then I'm sinking my teeth into the guy's flesh.
The guy grunts in pain.
The source of the smell gushes over my tongue, and it's every exotic taste at once. And I can't stop taking it in, drawing out more, despite the guy seething and thrashing under my grasp. Relief floods my gut. Strength flows into my limbs. I can't stop.
I can't stop.
The guy bites in a grunt and swings at nothing.
And I keep drawing out—
I'm strong. I'm powerful.
I can take every drop this man offers and end the pulse that's dancing faster and faster under my lips—
"Now," Nathan shouts, far in the background.
Arms wrap around my torso, but I barely feel them a
s they pull and someone shouts my name, over and over. Then another set grabs my arms from behind, and I'm flying back under fluorescent light until I land against someone in a dark blue suit.
"Ember. That's enough," Jeremy says as Nathan, who has fallen into the tangle with us, releases my arms. "It's over. Don't look."
I stop struggling against the First Son as that sense of power dissipates and my mind clears. Something warm runs down my chin. The smell still hangs in the air, but it no longer causes the horrible cramping and need that overtook me.
Don't look.
Sure, that won't have the opposite effect.
My vision focuses with more clarity than I ever thought possible. Jeremy lifts his hand to block my view, but not before I glimpse the bodybuilder, leaning to one side and leaning on the counter beside him. He slides his hand along the counter as two puncture wounds on his neck weep with blood.
SMASH.
I backpedal into Jeremy as my wall breaks against a tsunami of panic. He tightens his grasp around me, holding me up, and he drops his hand as I put my own over my face.
Oh fuck oh fuck and for a few seconds I wanted to kill that guy—
"I'm getting you out of here," Jeremy says, pulling me towards the door.
"It's safe," Nathan shouts.
My ears ring, but I hear the door open as Coffrey steps in, rolling a wheelchair.
And Jeremy ushers me out in a blur. The cooler air of the hallway surrounds us as he pulls me away from the door. He releases me and then takes my arm, leading me towards a chair sitting in the hall's corner. "Ember. Sit down. I need to get—"
He stops in place.
Mike stands at the corner.
My older brother stares at me, and from forty feet away I can see his irises widening. His mouth falling open. His cheeks paling.
It’s the first time we've met in forever, and he sees that his kid sister is a bloodsucking monster.
Mike whirls, turning away from me. And he ducks around the corner.
I tear away from Jeremy.
Then I bolt down the hall.
"Don't go," Jeremy says. "It's normal to panic. That means it went well."
It all went well?
I stop and whirl on him as Coffrey and Nathan stay in the room, hoisting the groaning bodybuilder into the wheelchair. Even from down the hall, I can hear the fabric squeaking. The lights buzzing. Mike's heavy, horrified breathing from around the corner. It all swirls together, forming a storm that overwhelms me.