Legally Claimed

By Alexa Piper

Peter is good at being a lawyer. He also happens to be a vampire, which -- in his experience -- is far less exciting than the books make it out to be. The most romance he gets these days is watching others fall in love. But this vicarious lifestyle isn't something Peter minds or even wants to change.

Theo escaped an abusive relationship and is determined to get his college degree, even if prostitution is how he pays for it. No stranger to the supernatural, he has agreed to let vampires bite him for money, but his first client in the new city is nothing like Theo expected.

Peter has no good reason to tuck Theo into bed after that blood donation, but he does. Peter also has no reason to fantasize about Theo, and yet, Peter’s mind is soon drifting to the pretty, black-haired, jade-eyed boy he doesn’t even really know.

A chance encounter at New Elvenswood University brings Peter’s fantasies close to reality. Theo’s vampiric ex soon becomes a problem Peter will have solve. And he won’t use his skills as a lawyer to do it, either.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Jan 6, 2022

Book preview

Chapter One

Sitting behind his desk at his law firm, Peter Collins stared at the spreadsheet that was currently open on his work laptop. But the columns and all the numbers made no sense. Spreadsheets never did when Peter hadn’t had some nice fresh blood in a while, even if he normally loved himself some Excel magic. Sighing theatrically for the benefit of exactly no one because he was alone in his office, Peter leaned back in his ergonomically optimized chair and glared at the damned spreadsheet. It still made no sense, and obviously, his glaring was wasted on the damn screen. With a dismissive gesture, Peter closed his laptop and got to his feet.

He had the corner office, naturally, because he had founded the law firm Collins & Partners. Most days he liked the room that had been designed with an eye to justifying what his clients were billed for an hour of his lawyery time. But right this moment, Peter couldn’t spend another second in here because the cubist paintings just seemed gaudy.

Peter swung the glass door open with a touch and hurried down the hallway, the nice scowl on his face forcing everyone to move out of his way. Peter barged into Michael’s office, and the handsome siren looked up.

Anything you need? Michael asked.

Oh, Peter had a list of things he conceivably needed from Michael, and that list had grown ever since Michael had started working for him. At first, Peter had entertained thoughts of a nice, tempestuous affair with the delicious-looking siren. Peter had never had siren’s blood, and he’d wondered what Michael’s blood would taste like in the throes of passion.

However, Michael had not been interested, and Peter was not one to force his own desire on others because, the bother. Then, Michael had started dating a human, the cutest little librarian in all New Elvenswood, and that had been better, because Peter got to watch those two being adorable together. He’d also gotten to watch the cutie-pie librarian go up against a yule cat to protect Michael, and then the three of them had enjoyed a vacation with a little zombie extravaganza on the entertainment front. It had been such fun.

Now, Peter’s siren and the cute librarian were planning their wedding, and Peter, to whom the sweet little librarian had given the epithet the Terrible, felt he was not involved enough. Yet, Peter could not outright state the injustice, because then he would have to explain his desire to be more involved, and the bother.

But still, in the face of a properly engaged Michael doing some paperwork or other, all Peter wanted to say was that he needed to be consulted on wedding decisions.

The goddamn bother. Just checking in. I wanted to make sure you were dealing with your current caseload. I would understand if you needed more time with Corvin right now.

Michael smiled up at Peter. It’s fine, actually. Corvin’s excited and he’s still processing that his best friend is dating an Elf. And a vampire.

Peter nodded. Those are Lord Laurette’s lovers, yes? That sweet, bookish Corvin was friends with one of the Elven lord’s lovers was, frankly, a wonderful happenstance. Peter had high hopes of meeting them and watching that story unfold. If an Elf such as Laurette of the Silver Moons had claimed two lovers, that romance truly had to be epic. Peter would like nothing better than to watch that love story from the sidelines, but still close enough to where the action was happening. Michael and Corvin would always be Peter’s favorites, but an Elf, a human, and a vampire? There was just no way that was not a romance built for swooning over in secret.

Michael nodded. Yes. Corvin can’t believe he had to be engaged to a siren and survive a horde of zombies before getting told about all that.

Understandable. Perhaps we should go to the library? To surprise your Corvin, of course. I should like to make sure he is fine after that drama with the garden shears in Morrowvale.

Really, Michael had to give Peter that. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and Peter loved seeing Michael and Corvin kiss, touch -- all that wonderful intimacy.

Michael tilted his head. You don’t need to worry about Corvin, honestly. And I need to get this done. He tapped the file he was reading with his index finger, and it cost Peter all his control not to roll his eyes.

Peter considered telling Michael the file didn’t matter, and they needed to go see Corvin now. But of course, that was highly inappropriate, and Peter worked exceedingly hard to not be inappropriate, ever. Or mostly. But mostly ever.

He struggled for nonchalance and pulled off a nod. If you say so, Michael. Let me know if anything changes in regard to your caseload.

After a quick nod from Michael, Peter stormed back to his office. The spreadsheet was still there when Peter opened his laptop back up, but Peter closed it and opened Photoshop instead. What he couldn’t see in real life, he could at least create there. Pasting the heads of Michael and Corvin on two baby-oil-slicked muscular bodies with not a stitch of clothing on them was not as good as watching the real thing, but for now, it had to do.

* * *

Peter decided he needed a willing vein about four p.m. when not even Photoshop could keep him from grinding his teeth and just feeling jittery all over. He threw on his suit jacket and headed back out of his office. His mood had been noticed, clearly, if the way people were avoiding looking into his eyes was any indication. Peter didn’t mind, although he would have liked to glower at some of the new lawyers fresh from law school. One of them, apparently, was a succubus, and Peter hadn’t glowered at a ‘cubus in a long time. Plus the fresh legal meat always had to be tenderized properly. Peter hoped getting the normally aloof ‘cubi to cower was like riding a bike. He needed to schedule a performance report with the succubus so he could find out if he still had what it took to make a sex demon squirm.

Once he was behind the wheel of his Mercedes, Peter drove straight to Madame Celeste’s Boudoir, which sounded like a brothel because it was one. It also catered to supernaturals like Peter, thus eliminating the need for him to go out and charm some human into his arms where he could then compel them. Peter had nothing against compulsion for the most part, but he simply liked to drink from someone who was willing, and if Peter had to pay for that, then so be it. He really wasn’t hurting for money.

Celeste’s building was an unassuming townhouse with a private, underground parking lot and good security. The latter served both the people who worked for Celeste and the patrons as well, because supernaturals liked their identities to remain on the confidential side of things. Peter, in fact, had done his part in helping Celeste get the security by sharing some of his contacts with her. He’d also helped her purchase the property, thus allowing her to build something secure in the first place, not an easy feat in that particular line of business.

The troll staffing the elevator that took patrons up from the parking lot to the Boudoir nodded at Peter and even hit the call button on the panel, so Peter could glide inside just as the elevator doors opened. The smoothness with which the place was run was refreshing, and Peter could appreciate it even in his generalized state of crankiness.

The first floor was the place for mingling. Here, those patrons looking for a sexual experience could find one of Celeste’s employees willing to take them on and blow their… minds, pun fully intended. The interconnected rooms were large, but offered tables and couches, made more intimate by tasteful dividers in light gold and shimmery silver. There was just something welcoming in the way everything had been put together. Peter wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but having been to many a brothel for one reason or another, he could confidently say that Celeste’s was the nicest of them all.

This early in the day, business was still slow, even if Peter was by no means the first patron.

Peter, darling, so good to see you again, Celeste said when she saw Peter walk toward her. She was mixing a drink behind the bar, but stopped to step out and greet Peter. She wore what Peter knew to be her before-happy-hour attire: navy pants and dangerously high heels, a cream blouse with a star pattern, and not nearly as much makeup as she put on after happy hour. She’d trimmed her beard a little since Peter had last been here, and while it wasn’t his thing, he thought it looked good on her.

Celeste, Peter said, allowing her to kiss both his cheeks, her beard slightly irritating on his smooth skin.

I am so glad you came in today, she went on. I have something you will like.

All I’d like is a willing blood donor, Peter grumbled.

Celeste slapped his shoulder and rolled her eyes. Don’t be like that with me, Peter. She took his hand and pulled him with her to one of the other rooms.

Peter did not get pulled along, ever. But he was not about to point that out to Celeste. She came to a stop in front of a small table. One of the people sitting there was a girl Peter recognized. She’d been working here for a few years now, was an excellent dancer, and had let Peter drink her blood a few times. The man next to her was a new face. Peter knew immediately Celeste understood him even better than he understood himself.

The man seemed to be in his early twenties, but his eyes looked older, like he had seen things he hadn’t been ready to see. He was lean, just a few grams above skinny, and the tips of his messy black hair grazed his high cheekbones. He had green eyes, not a muddled shade but a bright jade that was arresting in the best of ways. Upon closer inspection, Peter decided the human was just a boy, really.

This, Celeste said to Peter with a knowing grin not quite hidden under her beard, is Puck. Puck, meet Peter.

Puck, which of course wasn’t his real name, looked up at Peter. The human’s gaze was assessing. Peter recognized that gaze. It was not a hungry one, but the kind of look one used to judge someone else’s threat level. Peter ground his teeth.

My pleasure, Peter said cordially and nothing more, in an attempt not to freak Puck out.

Celeste went on without missing a beat. Puck is new. In fact, this is only his second day out of training. He’s been observing and learning the ropes, but I think you’re the right kind of gentleman to help him get his toes wet. She turned to Puck. Puck, Peter is here for something warm-blooded. Nothing but a drink. She looked back at Peter. Unless, of course --

No, just a drink, Celeste, Peter said. Puck’s eyes had narrowed slightly, and his jaw had tightened. Yet, the human wasn’t so unskilled as to let raw distrust and contempt show on his face. He smoothed his expression out within moments. But perhaps someone else is able to provide that? Peter went on. I wouldn’t want Puck to lose the night to exhaustion.

Well, since you will pay for the entire night, I don’t see what the problem is, Peter, Celeste said. Puck? She didn’t snap her fingers. Celeste didn’t have to. The woman ran a tight ship, and following Celeste’s rules gave her employees a secure income, health benefits, and vetted clients. What she expected in return was professionalism and loyalty.

Puck stood with the grace of someone who’d learned how to use the hungry eyes of others to his advantage. In Peter’s experience, it wasn’t the exclusive skill of street workers, but those who were especially good earners all had it.

Still, even if Puck knew how to make himself look the part, there was a tension in him that Peter doubted had much to do with this being his first time with a client.

Wonderful, Celeste said with twinkling eyes and a bright smile. Now, you enjoy yourself, Peter, she said and brushed past him, but not without stopping briefly to kiss his cheek. Peter once more kept himself from rolling his eyes.

Let me show you to a room, Puck said and held out his hand to Peter. The human looked into Peter’s eyes, but quickly cast his gaze down.

I won’t compel you, Peter said, recognizing the reaction for what it was.

Puck’s cheeks flushed pink. I’m not -- I --

Peter found no joy in letting others squirm unnecessarily, so he took Puck’s hand. Show me the room, he said.

Puck, his bottom lip tucked tightly between his teeth, looked up at Peter. It clearly took him a lot to look into Peter’s eyes. Of course. Please follow me upstairs.

Peter nodded and let a smile ghost over his face. Puck walked Peter through the rooms on the first floor and up the stairs where another security person greeted them with a nod and led them to a room at the end of the gold-painted hallway.

This security guard was a werewolf, and Peter knew her too, not that they ever exchanged more than a nod and the most perfunctory of greetings. She held the door open for Puck and Peter and closed it behind them. The door had no locks. Not that Peter was planning to do anything to Puck that one would only ever do in a locked room. Well, other than spending hours dabbling with Photoshop, there was precious little that Peter liked doing and felt he needed a locked door behind which to do it.

The room was lush. The king-size bed was neatly made, the curtains were drawn in front of the milky-glass windows, and fresh flowers in a vase stood next to canned and bottled non-alcoholic refreshments. There was also the obligatory selection of lube, condoms, and toys on display on a counter right next to the drinks, everything from a riding crop to a dildo. Celeste kept specialized rooms for people who knew exactly what they wanted, but some liked to experiment, and so options were always available.

Puck wordlessly let go of Peter’s hand and started unbuttoning his shirt with his back turned to Peter. Peter was just about to tell Puck that there was no need for that, because Peter was not some sloppy, hundred-year-old vampire who had no damn clue what dry cleaning cost, but before Peter had the chance, Puck turned, and in doing so, let his shirt fall to the ground. It really was a beautifully executed move that showed how well Celeste liked to train her new employees.

Like what you see? Puck said, but without the oversweet delivery that made the question come to life.

Peter did like what he saw, because while Photoshop was all well and good, he did have a libido. And Puck, skinny twink that he was, would be a treat to ravish between the sheets. But it was not what Peter had come here for. It wasn’t what he had negotiated with Celeste, and one cursory look at Puck told him quite clearly that it wasn’t at all what Puck wanted, even if the human’s shaky fingers started fumbling with the buttons of his pants.

Stop, Peter said, trying hard not to bite out the single word. As I said, I am not here for that. Put your shirt back on, Puck.

"But you -- your kind, you always -- I mean, you