Vampire Rebellion: Vampire Regalia, #3

By Scarsky

Ella and James have been through a lot. Hunted, shackled, and almost slain too many times to count, they have only each other to rely on. Vilified and hunted down for their existence as impure bastards of the vampire world, they're willing to go as far as it takes for the answers that'll set them free. 

 

More danger awaits them on the road seeking vampire Regals, hunting for clues of their sire, the progenitor of bastard vampire-kind. The fate of the entire vampire world rests upon their shoulders. One wrong move and their hope for a future together will be gone forever.

 

Will they be able to stop their sire in time?

 

If you enjoy Stephenie Meyer's Twilight saga and Vampire Diaries, you will enjoy the Vampire Regalia series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pup Books
• Release date: Apr 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9789811415654

Book preview

Chapter 1

Ella breathes in deeply, taking in as much air as possible. She and James have been going at it for hours now, sparring so long that she’s dripping in sweat. But she can’t let up, not now. She needs to be at the top of her game to beat their sire. If she thought they had it tough with the hunters in Salisbury and the Blood Purists in Canterbury, it’s only going to get rougher from here on out. Their sire is a Regal – a king or queen of their world, with power beyond any foe they’ve faced. So, she swallows, tuning out the thud of her heart in her ears, and keeps going.

She ducks under James’ lightning-fast swing, using an animalistic awareness to keep out of his line of fire. When he moves to strike again, she captures his arm, and with her blood burning and her adrenaline high, she swings. There’s not much left of her strength, not after the hours they’ve spent here in the Ramsgate clan basement, filling the cobweb-laden space with the smell of sweat, but it’s enough to knock James off-balance.

With a grunt, he backs away and she goes on the offensive, with her fists arcing in elegant strikes that only just miss their mark. She quickly becomes frustrated. Why isn’t this enough? Her swings become wilder. They’re still powerful, still unnaturally fast, but her movements lack finesse, and when she lags for a moment, James strikes. He’s all too quick. Between one moment and the next, the world blurs, and then she’s on the ground, icy stone against her heated skin, gasping. No, she thinks to herself, gulping air madly. It’s not good enough. She needs to get stronger, strong enough to protect what they have.

Ella shakes her head and struggles to a stand. James eyes her warily, his own tiredness etched into the rugged lines of his face, in the sweat that gathers on his brow and in his black hair. She knows what he’s going to say – that they should take a break, accept their limits, and all that nonsense, but she can’t. They’ve got a meeting with Navina right after this, the first public one. There’s just no time.

″We have to keep going. Her words are hoarse and stilted. James –"

Her partner frowns, shaking his head. She can see the concern shining through his red-brown eyes. It makes her feel worse.

″No, Ella. We’re done," he says gently.

She curses as she rubs her temple, just short of distraught. She can hear James’s sigh. Within moments, his warm arms are coming around her, tugging her closer to his broad chest. Bloody hell, she doesn’t deserve him. He rubs circles into her back, trying to soothe her. She’s stubborn at first, not wanting to relax. She needs that fire, she needs that aggression, but James is annoyingly competent at changing her mind. After a few minutes, her tension eases up and she finds herself leaning into the embrace as she goes lax. Her head falls against his shoulder, and he sighs again.

″What’s got you so uptight, Vampirella?"

She scoffs. What do you think?

It’s obvious. They’ve been here with the Ramsgate clan for two weeks now, learning and planning and honing their skills for their bona fide quest. It’s a truth-searching, life-threatening quest that is drawing ever closer, a fact that leaves her feeling absolutely inadequate and underprepared. They’ve only just recovered from their last misadventure with Lucan and the hunters, having almost lost both times. How can they ever hope to be good enough? Leaving to find and challenge their sire in their current state would be foolish. It’d be a suicide mission.

James winces as if he can read her mind. You can’t think like that. He pulls back so that he can look her in the eyes. You can’t push yourself to the edge. Being so tired you can’t even move isn’t going to save us any more than running away will. Can’t you see? It’s burying you, dragging you down.

She wants to disagree with what he’s saying. It’s not like she’s been the only one who’s been feeling tense the last few days. But, regardless of how anxious she feels and how underprepared she knows they are, she also knows that the way she’s been going about it is all wrong. What she’s been doing is just shy of self-punishment, more harmful than helpful. And, for the first time, she realizes what she’s been doing to herself must be affecting James too. He seems frazzled, looking at her like she’s falling apart in his hands, and it makes her feel guilty.

″I know, I just…" she trails off.

James nods, biting his lip. You’re scared.

She laughs humorlessly. What an understatement. I am. I’m terrified, alright? I don’t know what to do. What if this is a fight we can’t win?

She’d been so sure before. When they had left Canterbury, she had felt confident that she and James were skilled enough for the challenge that awaited them. However, whatever advantage they had gained from being Regalia, the progeny of the Regal, will be useless when they fight their own sire. And, the more they’re told about Regals by Navina, the more she feels like challenging them would be the same as walking into a wolf’s den.

The Regals are elusive and secretive, with so little known about them. They’re the oldest of their kind, and the few books they could find describe them as gods, with supernatural strength and resilience to match. Even Navina doesn’t know where myth meets reality, especially when it comes to their kind. The stories about vampires aren’t all baseless legends, not like their supposed glowing skin. What if the Regals really can crumble mountains? What if they truly are immortal, unable to be killed by other vampires?

Ella swallows thickly, shaking her head. There’s no knowing where the hell the Regals might be in the first place. Where are they supposed to even start looking? They can’t just run aimlessly through England and greater Europe hoping a clue will fall into their laps. It’s just a ridiculous state of affairs.

She runs a hand through her dark brown hair, feeling lost. I don’t want to risk losing you for nothing.

James shakes his head and cups her face with his hands. His eyes are like fire, and she finds herself flushing the more he looks at her. She can’t help but be drawn in. You think I want to risk losing you? This isn’t a game, I know. But our odds are stronger than anyone else’s.

He leans closer till their heads are touching. She wishes that she could turn away, but he won’t let her.

He sighs. Look, I’m not asking you to bury your fears. I’m quite terrified myself, but we’ve made this choice together because it’s the right one. She flinches at the truth in his words. And if we’re doing this, we have to be running at one-hundred percent. We’ll need fire and determination, the kind I know you have in spades, even if it may have been hidden these past few days due to fear. I need you to trust in us, just like I do.

Buggering hell. Why did he have to pull on her heart strings? It’s not fair. She shakes her head. Do you know how hard that is? It’s not like I’ve been actively trying to give up or something, but we have more to lose now than ever, and I’ve already lost so much - my parents, my friends, and my future, even before this vampire mess. But with you, I’ve never had so much to lose, and we’ve already had so many near misses.

It hurts admitting all this to James, being so vulnerable, and she can barely look at him as she speaks.

James bites his lip, and when she looks into his garnet eyes, they’re filled with emotion - sadness, desperation, fear, and something else. He pulls her even closer, holds her tighter, and she knows he must feel the same. Why is this situation so messed up?

He sighs. "Believe me, I know how you feel. But please, trust me. Trust us."

She’s reminded of his promise, of being together, despite everything that could tear them apart. They’ve made the decision to fix it all, not once but twice. She remembers feeling that conviction, the fire that wouldn’t bow to anything. They shouldn’t give up now either. This is their responsibility, after all. They can’t run away or give up, not if they truly want to be free.

Against all the parts of her that still feels fear and inadequate, she finds herself convinced. She’s been too pessimistic, very much ‘once burnt, twice shy’ about the whole thing, and that isn’t how she wants to be, not at all. How did he come to have such a honeyed tongue anyway? He always seems to know exactly what to say to set her straight.

Ella sighs. Why do you have to speak with such conviction, Charlie Brown? It’s not fair.

His lips quirk up upon hearing her words, the first show of humor in days. His hand draws lines on her face, and the longer they stand together, the more her body stirs from his ministrations. Her emotions start to settle, at least until she’s reminded that they’re pressed next to each other, covered in sweat and dressed in little more than sleeveless shirts that cling to their bodies a little too much. She bites her lip, and James follows the movement, his eyes going dark and scorching as he comes to the same awareness. They’ve had so little time for frivolity lately, so little time to themselves. After all of that heavy talk, she finds herself growing a little more than eager. He leans closer, and her breath hitches, expectant.

His lips touch hers, and she feels heat rising in her chest, spreading from head to toe. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of this feeling. When his lips find her neck, , she can’t think at all. But eventually, reality catches back up to them. James leans away for a moment, his eyes catching something, and then he’s backed away entirely.

″I’m going to go wash up. You should too, unless you want to be late for the meeting because of me," he says teasingly.

She almost winces with displeasure, but he’s not wrong. When she turns to eye the clock, she can’t deny that they’re running out of time. The council meeting begins in half an hour, and it’s not one they can skip. Navina is planning to let the cat out of the bag on their identities, and hopefully, they’ll be able to get some important information out of the clan for it. All she can do is sigh as she backs away.

″Why do you have to be so goddamn reasonable? she groans. Fine, I’ll see you there."

With the moment thoroughly over, she blurs through the building, passing by creaking wooden floors and echoing stone walls. It’s far too much like Canterbury, with the same old airs, the same antiques, and the same style. If she pauses for too long, she’ll get lost in her memories of her time there, so it’s still hard for her to look around the new building. She doesn’t stop once on her journey, not until she’s arrived at her temporary residence. It’s a small room that’s been assigned to her. This room, thankfully, isn’t like the rest of the building. It’s modern, more like the designs seen in contemporary furniture magazines than a period set, red rather than green.

She speeds across the room and makes quick work of disrobing, whining as she moves her arms up. Her muscles are still stiff from overwork. Her eye briefly catches a row of purple bruises on her stomach just before they heal. She hadn’t expected the toll on her body to affect her healing abilities. She’s really gone overboard, pushing herself to her limit, hasn’t she?

Shaking her head, she makes her way into the shower. As the water beats down on her, cleansing her of sweat, she can’t help but think about her first muck-up as a vampire. She’d attacked two young men in an alley. It was only when James managed to stop her that she’d spared their lives. Things only got worse when she attacked those girls in the club. She’d felt so guilty then, like a monster. She remembers retreating to her shower as if it’d take her sins away, wanting to scrub away the wrongness, the vampire, right out of her skin. The shower was her haven at those times only a few months ago. But now? She’s come a long way since