Origins: Tranquilli Bloodline, #3

By Celia Breslin

En route to reunite with her estranged father in Italy, Carina is kidnapped by a human organization intent on vampire genocide. Beaten, starved, and forced to fight fellow captives, she finally manages to escape. Along the way, she encounters the group's leaders—their identities shock her to the core.

 

Once home, Carina warns her family of this new threat, but dear old dad is missing. In his absence, the Tribunal, the governing body for all vampirekind, lies in disarray, with an old enemy making a bid for her father's throne. What's worse? The usurper wants her for his queen…and slave.

 

With a human-vampire war looming on one side and a vampire-vampire battle brewing on the other, Carina will have to rally her troops, take back the throne, and fulfill her destiny as the Chosen One. If not, her whole world will fall, taking everyone she loves with it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Champagne Book Group
• Release date: Sep 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781771559805

Book preview

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Champagne Book Group

Presents

Origins

The Tranquilli Bloodline Series, Book 3

By

Celia Breslin

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Champagne Book Group

www.champagnebooks.com

Copyright 2019 by Celia Breslin

ISBN 978-1-77155-980-5

September 2019

Cover Art by Melody Pond

Produced in the United States of America

Champagne Book Group

2373 NE Evergreen Avenue

Albany OR 97321

USA

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This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not buy it, or it was not bought for your use, then please purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Praise for Celia’s books

Haven

This book had it all, and kept me turning pages until deep into the night. I literally could not put it down, and I highly recommend it to all adult UF or paranormal romance readers. Lorna Atkins, Rabid Reads blog

Treat yourself to this sexy page-turner with a tough heroine, snarky humorous, sensuality and family drama. Kri, The Tired Buyer blog

"Haven is sexy, edgy, exciting and hip. […] Haven was definitely an exciting ride." Nicole, Feed Your Fiction Addiction blog

Destiny

"Destiny delivers a great blend of snark, supernaturals, lots of action (violence too), and a bit of sexy-times." C. J. Burright, author of paranormal & contemporary romance

If you like reading about a half vampire, with a wicked side of sarcasm, this series might be one you should check out. […] This book was well written, with good fully realized main characters, and the solid world building continued with this installment, as it should in any good series. Action fans will not be disappointed. Lorna Atkins, Rabid Reads blog

"I think Destiny was just as well written as Haven. I think there was some significant growth happening with the main characters and the world was just as well explained. […] Not sure what the future will hold for Rina, but I want to continue the ride." Urban Fantasy Investigations.

Origins

Carina is so kick-ass. The entire story flowed seamlessly. Love the fight and magic scenes, and the dialogue is fun and fresh. I enjoyed every minute of it!" Georgia Lyn Hunter, paranormal romance author

Gorgeous writing. A captivating read. Fans plus anyone who wants to read some seriously kickass, old-school, vampire urban fantasy will dig it.  Amber Belldene, romance author

Other Books by Celia Breslin

Vampire Code (a Tranquilli Bloodline prequel)

The Tranquilli Bloodline Series

Origins, 3

Destiny, 2

Haven, 1

Dedication

To my husband and daughter, for their unconditional love and support.

Dear Readers,

If you’re new to the Tranquilli Bloodline world, welcome! If you’ve been here through Haven and Destiny, welcome back! Writing this vampire series has been, and continues to be, a true labor of love.

Thank you for taking this journey with me and my vampires. Happy reading!

xo,

Celia

Chapter One

Hell isn’t hot. Hell is fucking cold.

I should know. I’m there. Not literally, mind you.

My personal hell consisted of an Antarctica-cold twelve by twelve room featuring one army-style cot, bare stone walls, a metal toilet, and tiny sink. A window no larger than a shoebox near the ceiling filtered in a smidgeon of natural light from outside, but the lone, buzzing light bulb in the middle of the ceiling really gave the room its shit-hole ambience.

My captors decided to freeze me today. Yesterday, they’d turned my cell into a sauna, but today? I wouldn’t be shocked if snowflakes fell and ice frosted the pipes snaking over the ceiling.

I huddled on the chilly cement floor wedged in the corner farthest from the steel door with its peekaboo, wired-glass window and bottom doggie door, knees tight to chest, arms snug around my legs. Head bowed, I breathed in the frigid, mildew-tainted air, exhaling into my legs in an attempt to create a bubble of warmth.

The speaker by the door crackled. Are you ready to submit? Same stern, male voice, same damn question every day.

S-S-Screw you, I stuttered, body shaking too much to spit out the string of curses I wanted to hurl at my unseen tormenter.

My teeth chattered, and I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood, grunting at the torture of its penny-metal taste. My blood wouldn’t fuel me at all, and oh, how I yearned for fresh blood, preferably from my captors’ veins while punishing them for this brutal captivity.

As more useless blood trickled down my throat, my stomach gurgled and growled. In addition to freezing me, they starved me. My two guards, or as I liked to refer to them—Thing One and Thing Two—hadn’t shown up last night or this evening with my daily meal, a fist-sized bowl of unidentifiable stewed objects, or a blood bag. The bastards.

How long would they keep up this fresh round of torment?

I glanced at the time-tracking scratches on the wall by my cot, etched with a fork they no longer provided with my meals. Probably shouldn’t have plunged it into Thing Two’s meaty thigh and attempted to pluck out Thing One’s eye with it, but hey, you can’t blame a girl for protecting herself from two snarling, seven-foot tall behemoths. Oh wait, they did.

For the record, cattle prods and tasers freaking hurt.

The seven fork scratches, plus the bloody fingerprints I’d added due to the aforementioned lack of fork, indicated my stay at roughly twenty days, not including the day they kidnapped me, or the times I remained unconscious before and after they started…doing things to me.

Chills skittered down my spine, not from the frigid temp this time. I shut down the images, the fear. Nothing could weaken my resolve. Must stay strong, stubborn, and snarky. Must fight these assholes until my dying breath, or until I fought my way out of here.

Submit, Carina.

Never. I raised one trembling hand and flipped my middle finger in the direction of the speaker and camera inset on the wall above the door. Fuck off and die, assholes.

The light extinguished, plunging me into darkness, but I bet their camera could track me in the gloom. Lucky for me, my night vision rocked due to my father’s DNA, aka my vampire genes. Being half vampire provided several other handy superpowers—enhanced strength and speed, acute sense of smell and hearing, ability to compel and glamour weak-minded humans (as in: not my strong-minded kidnappers)—none of which had helped me out of this mess so far. Nor had my unique fire power. Of course, it only worked on dead things, such as vampires. Sadly, my kidnappers lived and breathed.

I stretched out my stiff limbs and crawled the few feet to the metal sink, gripped the basin then hauled my ass up to grab a drink of water, possibly my only source of fuel for a while.

Say it, Carina. Submit.

Heard you the first million times, shitheads.

What would happen if I uttered the word? Given their history, nothing good, and likely far worse than the sleep deprivation, starvation, temperature extremes, vampire battles, and magic-laced injections they’d subjected me to so far.

I hated their magic more than anything else they threw at me. No weapon in my personal arsenal could conquer it, nor could the bonds with my mate and my vampire family withstand it. My otherworldly connection to my loved ones had disappeared when these unknown enemies had attacked our convoy in Italy, snagging me while en route to my father’s home, and their shots assured my familial ties remained severed. Damn it.

The chill metal of the faucet seared my fingertips, and the screech of ancient piping scratched my eardrums as I twisted the knob to release water into the basin. With my shaking hands cupped, the frigid water filled my palms. More water wet my chin and neck than trickled down my parched throat, but what little I swallowed soothed the worst of the belly aches.

Submit, Carina. Submit and obey. Join us.

The tap groaned again when I shut off the water. Join us. A new sentence. I bared my fangs and hissed in response. Hell to the no, dickheads.

The cell door beeped then opened with a whine of rusted hinges, and my pals Thing One and Two lumbered inside, their shoulders so broad they had to step in one by one and a bit sideways.

Thing One shone a flashlight into my eyes, temporarily blinding me. Come.

Rage straightened my spine. In your wet dreams, pal. Maybe not even then.

Blinking away the white spots popping in my vision, I sidled to the center of my cell in a bid for better wiggle room since we were about to get into it. We always did.

Come, dhampyre. Thing Two echoed his pal, gesturing at the door with the cattle prod in his beefy paw.

Digging deep for energy, I lunged low and took out Thing Two by the legs, felling him like a tree. His head created a wonderful cracking sound as it hit the side of my metal cot. I quite liked the snap and pop of his wrist bones, too, when I broke them. His grip on the cattle prod loosened, and I snagged it, shoving it in his groin and making him howl.

Sing for me, again, dickhead. I managed a few more jabs before Thing One interrupted.

Enough, he growled and shot me with a tranq, per his usual. It was our thing—I try to beat the shit out of Thing Two and sometimes succeed, like today, and Thing One hits me with a sedative, one strong enough to make me pliable yet remain awake while they drag me off for some quality vampire-brawling time.

My legs softened to spaghetti noodles, and I slumped to the floor. Took you long enough this time. Think I turned your pal into a soprano. The heel of my bare foot connected with Two’s tenderized man parts, rewarding me with another lovely yelp.

One’s lips twitched. Almost a smile? Please, Princess. You must stop resisting us.

Hm. Two whole sentences in flawless Italian instead of his usual, one-word imperatives. I detected an accent, however, that I couldn’t pinpoint. Not Italian or American. Probably not Italian-American like me—

Come. He hefted me over one, thick, boulder shoulder and stalked from the room, clomping down the sterile, gray-walled hall.

Limp and upside down, I stared at his gigantic, muscled ass in black camo pants while dizziness whirled my head, and the water I had consumed made a bid for freedom. If I didn’t get a handle on the vertigo and nausea, I’d never survive what was to come.

We passed many closed doors during our long walk, the only sound the solid thump of One’s shit-kicking boots on the cement floor. The hall smelled of disinfectant, a pungent improvement over the must and mildew of my room, and the warm air here thawed my body. Institutional-gray double doors whooshed open as we approached the room I called the stadium.

Inside, I cocked my head and eyed the mirrored glass one story above the ground floor, where instinct told me my enemy watched and gloated while I fought and killed every monster they hurled my way. I flipped my hidden foes both middle fingers.

Thing One slid me off his shoulder and onto the slick, hospital-grade linoleum, dead center, with surprising gentleness. Why the change in my normally gruff guard?

Punch-drunk from the tranquilizer, I patted his bulky bicep. Thanks, big guy.

The lemon and bleach scented cleaner they’d used on the floor tingled my nose, and I sneezed. My brain sloshed in my head, almost sending me into a faceplant on the stinky, sterile flooring. For the first time since they’d captured me, no chained and hungry vampires awaited me in here, snarling and straining for freedom to eat me. A change in the Make Carina Destroy All Vampires script…

Foreboding flared up my spine and into my chest. Um, hey behemoth. Can I rub your bald head for luck?

His craggy face furrowed, and he gave me good frowny-face while he surveyed me from head to toe. Barefoot and dirty, clad in the snug black sports top and minuscule spandex biker shorts they’d provided, my moon pale skin still streaked with blood from my last session in this hell hole, I’m sure I looked pathetic. Weak. I’d lost weight during my captivity, and my body showed it—too flat tummy, too visible rib cage, my hands positively skeletal, nothing but skin, bones, and blue veins. If my heart didn’t beat, I could pass for the walking dead.

Zombie Girl, at your service.

In comparison to Thing One, with his crooked nose and bald head and sun-weathered skin, I oozed schoolgirl youthfulness at twenty-five, with my face smooth, and my dark hair styled in two thick braids secured with strips of rough, threadbare fabric I’d ripped off my cell’s cot. One session in the stadium had taught me to bind my long mane away from my face to maximize my field of vision.

He positioned himself before me on bended knee, and fingered one of my braids, another surprising first, his expression pensive. Drink.

I blinked. What?

A tug on my braid, then he flipped his arm, exposing his wrist and the thick, pulsing blue vein underneath bronzed skin. My mouth watered, and my gums tingled, fangs aching. I wanted to throw myself at the offering like a ravenous beast, but experience with my captors had me suspicious. A trap? Poisoned blood?

I searched his face. Did I detect a glimmer of concern in his hooded, brown eyes?

Aw, you’re worried about me. That’s sweet. And disturbing. If my standoffish and stoic guard worried about me, then what did my keepers plan to subject me to this time? I crushed the sliver of dread drilling its way into my brain and sank my teeth into his flesh.

The burst of blood on my tongue had me moaning and sagging against his massive, bent leg. Wrapping my hands around his wrist, I sucked hard and fast, sure this momentary offering would end all too soon. Warmth flooded me, and the remainder of the tranq’s wooziness abandoned my body. My heart pumped power into my muscles, and my secret sauce energy awakened deep in my core, unfurling like a flower under sunlight. Bad news for any vampires they intended to throw at me today.

Thing One grunted and grabbed a braid, wrapping it around his free hand, likely to yank me off his arm if I tried to drain him dry. Good luck with that. Don’t know what made his blood so special, but I suddenly felt like I’d consumed a shit-ton of Popeye’s spinach, or nuclear-powered Wheaties. I could tear him limb from limb; he had to know that. Therefore, offering himself up like the proverbial lamb to slaughter seemed somewhat suicidal.

I rolled my eyes up to assess him. Jaw tight, eyes pinched from pain, he gazed down at me, his expression fierce, protective even. What on Earth had inspired this shift in my favor?

I am Besnik, he grunted in Italian, voice all boulders.

Unusual name, and not Italian. I’d assumed my captors kept me somewhere in Italy. Then again, without any clues to go by, I could be anywhere in the world.

Stand down, Besnik, the familiar, angry male voice that urged me to submit shouted in Italian, thundering from a speaker embedded in the wall.

My new pal Besnik delivered one shake of his head. "Jo."

Damn it, Besnik, pull her off.

"Jo." Besnik pressed his wrist against my mouth and firmed his grip on my hair in a blatant show of rebellion, letting loose a string of anger-edged sentences in a language I didn’t know.

I spoke fluent Italian and English, and could hold my own in Spanish and French, but whatever he spoke didn’t sound like a romance language. Not Russian or Greek, either…

Do not force me to detain and kill you, Besnik, Boss Man’s voice snapped.

Do what you must, Besnik barked in Italian. But know this—you are wrong. He released my braid and stroked my hair.

Wow, talk about a one-eighty. I slid my fangs from his wrist. "Perché? Perché mi stai aiutando?" I had to know why he was helping me. Why now?

Despite the hand petting my hair, he didn’t look or act like a man in lust or love. Far from it. With his usual mean-face military mask gone, he regarded me like…like family.

"She is blessed by the zana e malit, my new buddy growled. Having her kill more strogoi while she is weak and vulnerable doesn’t prove shit, nor will it force her to surrender to you. She will never submit. In that, she is very like her mother."

Silence then the double doors through which we arrived burst open, and four armed soldiers descended upon us. Besnik’s expression darkened to rage, but he stood, hands raised in surrender. Blood seeped from the holes in his wrist, dripping onto the gray floor. Without a word, the men surrounded him and escorted him from the room.

Besnik didn’t look back. I fisted my hands, chest tight. I’d acquired and lost a friend in under three minutes. One who knew my long-dead mother, a mother I’d never known since she died while birthing me. I didn’t know what the hell zana e malit meant, but I knew the word strogoi was Albanian for vampire. Since my vampire family had many enemies throughout the world, I’d made a point to learn vampire in a multitude of languages.

So, my new friend was Albanian, probably one of the many living in Southern Italy, given his flawless Italian. This info confirmed my guess they kept me in Italy. Regardless, I wanted my pal Besnik back in here, an ally at my back, if not for his strength—I sizzled with super strength now—then for his sudden emotional support.

Instead, my enemies shoved six vampires into the room.

~ * ~

My kidnappers had upped the ante in their sick stadium game, big time, with the forced arrival of a half dozen starved vampires. Given the energy rolling off the gang, my super senses told me these vamps had at least a century on me, with no newbies in the bunch.

I clenched my jaw and glared at the mirrored glass. Assholes had intended to freeze and starve me, weaken me, then throw me in here to battle multiple beasts instead of the usual one-on-one. To make me submit? Or to end me?

Fortunately for me, Besnik’s feeding ruined their plan. Power pulsed through my body, a welcome boost.

Thanks again, big guy. Hope you’re not dead.

The armed guards disappeared through the double doors, leaving me alone with the six, unchained old-timers. I sized them up while they seemed more interested in assessing the room, assuming I posed little threat. They’d learn otherwise soon enough. My fresh meal fired me up on all cylinders, my brain processing the many ways to take them out. Thanks to my training, it boiled down to this—what would Jonas do?

With his long black hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed in one of his flawless, old-fashioned suits and favorite black duster, my mentor would probably destroy them with his fancy sword cane in seconds flat. Or, he’d simply think them to death with his superior vampire power. Maybe he’d utter his nickname, The Executioner, and they’d lie down and beg for a quick death. My lips curled upward. Jonas was damn good at his job. A good teacher, too. Time to put my training to use.

I cleared my throat to gain their attention, expecting them to attack fast, like the newbies my captors usually tossed my way, young vamps who thought me easy prey, one lone young woman, dirty and frail. Once within reach of my hands, they all died quick…burn, bad little vampires, burn. These seasoned pros simply stared.

Damn it.

Eyes vampire-black and fangs bared, the taller three of the gang sidled left. Two more, short and stocky and scowling like vicious trolls, faded right.

The last vampire worried me the most. While the others pressed forward across the huge space, he leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled, a cold, I-am-the-devil smile not even remotely reaching his blue eyes. Pretty eyes, too. A rich, vibrant blue like the Mediterranean Sea on a sunny day. High cheekbones. Eyelashes so thick it looked like he wore mascara and eyeliner. Cute dimples, perfect nose, and an artfully messy, short haircut for his shiny black hair. All this and his casual yet clearly expensive black pants and tight black shirt gave him the look of a male model prepped for the camera.

His delicate features and full red lips tugged at my memory. Did I know him? No, doubtful I’d forget a demon in such a pretty package.

As the five circled me, I kept my arms loose at my sides and willed my fangs to retract before they noticed them, then gave the advancing assholes a sweet, I’m an innocent little human girl smile, all the while keeping my primary focus on the real threat in the back of the room.

You look exactly like your father. Smiley addressed me in English with a posh British accent.

Given the confused and cranky glances he garnered from the men, they didn’t understand English.

Color me shocked by Smiley’s comment, but first things first. Hold that thought, handsome.

He let out a laugh. You certainly don’t have his temperament.

Don’t be so sure about that. I waved a hand at the vamps. They don’t understand English, do they?

Not a word. They’re foot soldiers, by the way. He tapped his forehead. Not very bright. He jerked his chin at the trolls. Russian. Then at the other three. Italian. Not very good soldiers, mind you, given they were captured.

Uh, look in the mirror lately? I gestured at him and the room.

Smiley shot me another shit eating grin.

Several feet separated me from the advancing vamps. I raised a palm, addressing them in Italian. Stop. Five against one little girl? I made a point of looking at their groins then wiggling my pinkie. You not man enough to fight me one on one?

The three Italians took the bait. One crept forward. I let him come, ducked his punch, then took him out with a right hook to the knockout spot on his jaw. He crumpled to the ground. Yeah, Jonas had taught me well.

Smiley clapped. Bravo.

I curtseyed and motioned to Italian jerk number two. "Dai." Come on, let’s go.

This one wasted less time playing with his food, aka me, and blurred forward in vampire hyper speed. I dodged his attempt to grab me then landed a nice kick in his kidneys sending him stumbling forward.

My speedy sidestep alerted the foot soldiers they weren’t messing with an ordinary human. The third Italian hissed and flew at me. Literally. I crouched, and he collided with his pal, toppling them both to the ground in a growling heap.

I smirked. Oopsie.

They shot to their feet in that creepy as-if-pulled-by-puppet-strings way only the older vampires seemed to have mastered. Their eyes glowed black with rage. Fangs bared, their expressions promised pain.

I unfurled my power and fired up my palms, let my fangs lengthen and my eyes bleed to black, the shift in the latter a cool and soothing waterfall sensation, such a contrast to the heat coursing through the rest of my body.

Bring it, old dudes.

They blurred forward right into my waiting palms.

Can’t say I enjoyed their agonized screams as my fire power blazed through their circulatory systems and destroyed them from the inside out. And I’d never grow accustomed to the smell of fried organs and burning flesh. Fortunately, the more I used my gift—and my captors forced me to use it a lot—the faster I seemed to fry vamps. This time seemed like five seconds, tops.

I held my breath as their ashes swirled around me then settled on the floor.

The two Russian trolls dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. "Printcessa Tranquilli."

Didn’t require a translator for that bit of Russian. My unique power had shown them who they dealt with.

Smiley clapped and pushed off the wall. Bravo. My brother was right about you. He stepped between the two subjugated vamps.

I held my ground while he approached, keeping my power prancing along the surface of my palms. Mister Pretty and Deadly stopped inside my personal space.

Brother? Good grief, not another complication. Besnik knew my dead mother, this one’s brother knew me… I help up a hand in warning. That’s close enough, Smiley.

Smiley?

Me Carina, you Smiley.

His laughter doubled him over. When he straightened, he wiped bloody tears from the corners of his eyes. Enchanting. I’m—

A voice barked commands in Russian from the intercom. The two vampires shook their heads and uttered a vehement, "Nyet." No.

The voice grew more insistent, and the vamps rose and repeated, "Nyet," then positioned themselves on either side of me and Smiley.

While I appreciated their one-eighty in joining Team Carina, foreboding frolicked up my spine. A millisecond later, soldiers poured into the room from both entry points.

The Russians went ape-shit, dismembering several soldiers in the blink of an eye. Then the others started shooting at the Russians, riddling their bodies with bullets. Shit. Crouching low, I scanned for the path least likely to get me killed by these idiot soldiers.

Smiley wrapped a solid-as-steel arm around my waist and secured me against his side. Time to go, Princess.

Then he produced a freaking flashbang from nowhere and pulled the pin with his teeth, a move that would certainly destroy a human’s teeth, probably mine, too, despite my half-vampire super strength.

Whisking us to the hall in vampire hyper speed, we missed the detonation, alleluia, because I didn’t want to know what that would’ve done to me. In the hall, more soldiers barred our way, shouting at us to put our hands up and kneel on the ground.

As if.

Smiley moved so fast I could barely track him. Bodies fell around us. At some point, he planted a gun in my palm then blurred away.

Excellent. As he made a hole for us, I picked my way through the broken and bloodied men moaning and dying on the floor, shooting at anyone who tried to stop me.

Rounding a corner into an empty corridor, I broke into a run. Smiley zipped by me and broke the wide steel door at the end of the hall off its hinges then tossed it aside. Fresh mountain air reached me and hope hastened my movements. Freedom. Fanfuckingtastic. Smiley blurred out the doorway with me not far behind.

"Carina! Sorellina, stop!"

The familiar voice killed my momentum. I stumbled to a halt, mere steps outside my former prison.

No. No way…

Chapter Two

Dom? My brother’s name left me on a puff of white that dissipated in the frigid winter air.

He stalked toward me down the yellow-lit hall I’d just exited and joined me in the moonlit night, followed by an older man with angry dark eyes and a scar zigzagging one cheek from the corner of his eye to his frowning mouth.

I raised the gun and trained it on the stranger, aiming it between his eyes.

Beside me, Smiley murmured in my ear. True freedom awaits you a few feet away. The hum of an idling car engine punctuated his words.

But it’s… I swallowed the lump in my throat. He’s my brother.

Standing side-by-side with the enemy. My brother…my big brother, one of three, the second oldest, the one who, along with Lo-lo and Tony, had spent most of his life taking care of me—

Until now.

Dom closed his hand around the gun, and I allowed him to pry it from my grip.

Dom. Dom. Angry tears burned the backs of my eyes. W-why? My voice cracked.

His face softened for a second, and regret seemed to shine in his almond brown eyes, but he donned the angry expression I remembered him wearing all too often, ever since the recent reunion with our vampire family members. Or, as he preferred to see it, when the bloodsuckers destroyed our family and ruined our lives.

"You know why. They’re vermin,