Surrogate For A Vampire : Jack & Quentin: For a Vampire, #1

By Nina R. Schluntz

Every vampire has one goal- to find a surrogate human strong enough to birth their heir.

Three vampire love stories entangled around the fate of one man, who refuses to be a human, a traditional surrogate, or a vampire.

 

Jack is a runaway surrogate from the royal vampires. Some call him a vampire slayer destined to bring an end to the ruling bloodline of vampires. Can a romance between Jack and the vampire Quentin change his fate? Will he learn to love the creatures that want only to feed upon him? Or will he fulfill his destiny and murder the Vampire Potentate?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nina R. Schluntz
• Release date: Dec 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224910021

Nina R. Schluntz

Nina Schluntz is a native to rural Nebraska. In her youth, she often wrote short stories to entertain her friends. Those ideas evolved into the novels she creates today. Her husband continues to ensure her stories maintain a touch of realism as she delves into the science fiction and fantasy realm. Their three cats are always willing to stay up late to provide inspiration, whether it is a howl from the stray born in the backyard or an encouraging bite from the so called "calming kitten." You can find Nina on Goodreads, Facebook, Twitter and her blog

Book preview

Surrogate

for a

Vampire

Story 1

Jack & Quentin

Nina R Schluntz

This is a work of fiction. The characters depicted in this story are completely fictitious, and any similarities to actual events, locations or people, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, in whole or in part, without written permission from the publisher, except for the brief quotations in reviews.

Surrogate of a Vampire: Jack & Quentin (Story 1)

Copyright © 2022 Nina R Schluntz

All rights reserved

Originally issued as a 3-book compilation called Surrogate of a Vampire

Cover Artwork by John Molinero

Surrogate for a Vampire

Story 1-Jack & Quentin

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

OTHER BOOKS BY NINA R SCHLUNTZ

Story 1-Jack & Quentin

CHAPTER 1

"H

ow long has it been?" Welentyna asked. She sat the tall glass of red liquid in front of him and leaned on the counter, resting her chin on her hand. Her face and upper arms were adorned in red tattoos that matched her dyed hair and eyes.

I haven’t found one in months, Quentin admitted. He took the glass in his hand and turned it around, not drinking it. It was pig’s blood, not human, because when he was on the road, traveling in human villages, it was often taboo to drink human blood, so he made it a policy to not drink it unless at his estate to avoid controversy.

Welentyna was a born vampire like him and worked at one of the blood taverns he frequented. She worked with a group of female vampires in the village to keep the order. Since the women vampires couldn’t bear children, they were the police force and took to the frontlines in every war. It was the male vampires who could sire vampire children, and they could only do it with the few humans who were blessed with the ability to endure a vampire pregnancy. They were coined Dairi, a Japanese word meaning a proxy or substitute since they were basically surrogate mothers for the vampires.

Well, there have been confusing reports of a Dairi working in the mines Maddock runs, Welentyna said.

What do you mean confusing?

Vampires say they smell a Dairi amongst his workers giving off pheromones, but everyone knows Maddock only hires male humans. So, either they are hiding a girl somewhere, or there is a male Dairi.

A male Dairi. They didn’t have the right equipment for birthing vampire children. They held breeding potential to farm more Dairi, but only the submissive ones. Vampire history did not speak kindly of dominant, powerful male Dairi. However, human lore glorified them as vampire slayers.

Maddock isn’t known for protecting his employers. How is the Dairi still alive? Dairi also tasted better than normal humans. A rogue Dairi of any gender had a low chance of survival on their own.

She shrugged. I said it's confusing.

Intrigued, Quentin altered his route to visit Maddock, arriving four hours before dawn. The camp was an arrangement of mobile trailers that could be relocated to the excavation area being worked. The two women vampires standing at the entrance of the only double-wide trailer made it easy to identify which trailer was Maddock’s.

He said nothing to the guards as he passed. He rapped on the door and tried the knob. Finding it unlocked, he stepped inside.

Quentin stood at the threshold and waited for Maddock to look up from his desk. He was a vampire that looked like one of human lore, the kind of thing told to human children to keep them from going outside at night. His skin clung to his bones like it had been vacuum-sealed, and Quentin wondered if the old man was eating these days. The sight made him want to gag, and he could only imagine what the humans thought. Or did they even see him these days?

My, my, what did I do to earn a visit from a pure blood like you? Maddock leaned back and peered up at him, his trembling hands shuffling a few papers around.

Quentin’s mouth twitched at the label. Those whose bloodline only contained births from Dairi were considered pure bloods. If you had linage to a vampire who had been turned, you were considered tainted, for good reason. Those vampires were weaker in many ways.

You don’t have to be so formal. Are we not friends?

Everyone knows what your brother uses you for these days. He crossed his arms and slouched on his desk. I have no women here, nothing of interest to you.

Aren’t you annoyed having all these male vampires sniffing around searching your territory for a Dairi? Tell me where it is, and I’ll remove it for you.

He chuckled softly. You think you’re the first to offer me that?

He looked Quentin up from head to toe like he was sizing him up for battle.

You should walk away, Maddock said.

The Dairi has refused other vampires?

Oh, he didn’t just refuse them. He fucked a few up. And the last thing I need is your estate getting pissed about a pure blood vampire getting his ass handed to him in my territory. I don’t need that kind of drama.

Normal Dairi couldn’t refuse a vampire. They were drawn to them by pheromones and subsequently enchanted and enslaved. Except for dominant Dairi. Then it was reversed, but even then, they could usually only enchant turned vampires, not pure bloods.

I assure you my brother won’t take vengeance if I fail. Let me meet him. Although, even as he asked, he wondered why he was bothering. If it were a woman, he would have been interested. She might be strong enough to bear his young or his brother’s. But a man? A man who could potentially enchant vampires? That kind of human needed to be exterminated before they realized what kind of power they had.

Vampire slayer. There hadn’t been one since the vampire-human wars twenty years ago. How could Maddock let one live here? The fact Maddock was still speaking freely meant he wasn’t completely dazzled by the Dairi but was his decrepit state because of the Dairi?

It’s your funeral. He’s in trailer six.

Quentin flashed a smile before he turned and left the structure, passing by a vampire guard presence that had now doubled.

The humans usually kept to a daytime schedule. And he knew Maddock’s quarry was no exception. But if the man were truly a Dairi, it would sense Quentin’s presence. He eyed the trailer carefully as he walked closer, looking for movement. He sniffed the air, wondering if he would be able to catch the trademark Dairi scent.

He was nearly at the door before a figure moved near him. Someone had been sitting on the porch, completely motionless. And Quentin hadn’t even noticed.

He leaped back, landing several yards from the porch, and narrowed his eyes, taking in the figure.

Weird, right? A low gravelly voice asked. A porch light turned on, and a shirtless man stood before him. What’s a human doing sitting on a porch at four in the morning in the dark?

He was young, early twenties, and working in the mines had sculpted his body with muscles. His pecs twitched as he crossed his arms and stood like an immovable statue to glower down at Quentin.

I don’t like waking up my trailer mates, so I figured I’d meet you out here and let you know I’m not interested. Go away.

The first wave of rejection hit him, like being greeted by an angry dog that growled to let you know to back off, but instead of the cue being visual, it was internal, like invisible hands shoving him away and making him feel like worthless trash.

Quentin looked away from him in an effort to lessen the effect.

You sensed me before I arrived. And countered by masking himself. How? He sniffed the air and noticed the reason, smoke. Cinder and pine, a pile of it burning in a cooker near him. Clever, this kid knew his stuff. Had someone taught him, or had he figured it out himself? If someone had taught him…then he might know of other hidden Dairi.

I said go away, the man repeated. The wave of rejection, amplified by the disgusted tone, struck him again.

Quentin looked at the man, whose continence showed no signs of wavering.

I’m afraid I’m going to anger you, Quentin said. Because we’ll likely wake your roommates.

* * *

This crazy fuck wasn’t getting the hint. Jack could barely see him since he’d leaped off the deck with that lighter-than-air shit that the vampires did. And now he was standing off in the shadows. And who was he trying to impress with that smooth jazz voice? Go join a damn poetry reading club and go away.

If you even think of coming up here, I’ll punch you right in the jaw, and you’ll be drinking blood out of a sippy cup for the next month. While speaking, Jack gently rapped his knuckle on the door, a sign to Teddy inside the trailer to get the gun and aim it squarely at the door. This wasn’t the first overeager dumb fuck vampire who had to be shot a few times with rock salt before they got the hint and left. Maddock had told him that as long as he didn’t kill anyone, they were welcome to do as they needed, including calling for the female vamp guards. But Jack hadn’t needed to do that yet and didn’t plan to.

Then, the guy was in front of him. Jack had blinked his eyes, and bam, there he was, standing less than a foot away and leering at Jack with those predatory blood-red eyes of a vampire. He hadn’t been able to get a good look at him before, but now he was in the porch light, and Jack’s stomach did a little fluttery kick.

Because this guy was actually hot.

His skin was buttery smooth like someone had spent hours sanding it to a perfect polish. And his black hair was in tiny little spikes, which made Jack wonder how much hair gel the guy had to use to get it to stay perfectly in place like it was. His pointy nose had a perfect edge, and Jack had to remind himself to breathe.

This was the kind of vampire that probably had humans throwing themselves at him and begging him to drink their blood. Jack had never seen one that looked as alluring as this one. Maddock was, of course, gross to anyone. Most men vampires were unappealing creatures who either did nothing to try to improve their looks or were just born ugly to the point of no hope of repair. It was like they’d crossbred with bats at some point in their lineage, and they were deformed fuckers thanks to their bestiality practicing grandpops. Now, the women vampires were a completely different matter. Most of those were turned vampires because the vampire men, being the assholes they were, only turned the hottest women they could find. But the women vampires weren’t interested in Jack. They were completely immune to his mojo. But the men, gah, he’d spent every night of his life beating the fuckers away since he’d hit puberty.

Did you change your mind? the vamp asked, his lip twisting in a slight smile. I thought there was an impending danger if I came up here?

He knew. He knew he was fucking hot, and that pissed Jack off.

Right, yeah, I did. Sorry about that. Jack took a step back, and the floorboard squeaked, giving Teddy the sign that he was clear. The vampire turned his head to look at the door as if at the last second he’d heard something inside and knew he was fucked. The door exploded, and a mix of shrapnel from the door and rock salt from the 12 gauge shotgun slammed into the vampire’s chest. He was tossed off the deck and landed on the ground, on his back, right about where he had originally stood.

Did I get ‘em? Teddy asked. He pushed what remained of the door open. Maddock’s gonna be pissed we need a new door.

What the hell? Jeff shouted from inside. He shoved Teddy out of the way, wearing only his boxers. What is going on? He kicked some of the door bits aside and surveyed the situation.

It’s another vampire, Jack said. He ambled past them and grabbed a three-foot metal pipe from where it leaned against the steps as he descended. The pipe was coated in silver, a substance that burned vampire flesh.

He walked up to the vampire and stood over him, a leg on either side of the vampire’s hips. The bastard was dressed in black—a fitted shirt and slacks—and even had one of those capes on, not a long one, it was only halfway down his back. He saw a lot of vampires wear them, some stupid style thing. Even Maddock wore it.

You should stay down, Jack said. Otherwise, I’ll use this pipe to knock some of those fangs out, and it will really be a shame if I have to mess up that pretty face.

The vampire gave a few coughs and clutched at his shirt, which now had little holes in it. He didn’t see any blood, though, but the impact should have hurt and knocked the wind out of him, hopefully, the fight too.

Jack, maybe you shouldn’t get so close, Teddy warned. Teddy was three times Jack’s age and knew more about vampires than any other human Jack knew. The waver in his voice as he spoke the words made Jack wonder why he was suddenly being cautious.

I’ll just give him one smack for good measure, Jack said. He lifted the pipe over his shoulder, and his world was suddenly turned upside down as the vampire grabbed his calf and yanked him off his feet.

He heard Jeff shout his name right as his head impacted the ground with a smack. He landed on his back but managed to keep his grip on the pipe. He saw a flash of black cloth and felt two hot pricks on his neck.

Fangs.

The fucker was biting him!

He swung the pipe blindly until it struck something and the savage creature got off him. He rolled onto his hands and knees. He gasped for breath, but the very air seemed to be on fire. Everything was on fire. He could feel the venom from the bite going through his veins and invading his body. He broke out in a sweat and panted, consumed with a fever and body aches that could rival any flu.

You bastard, Jack said with his already puffy and barely responsive tongue.

He’d been bitten before. It didn’t happen often, but with the frequency of aggression he faced with vampires, it did happen. Normally, it was as minor as a mosquito bite. He’d never reacted like this before. He was too weak to even stand. The venom was usually used to subdue a human, so it was easier to feed on them. It also worked to weaken a Dairi so a vampire could drag them off to their lair to force breed with them.

A simple bite wouldn’t turn a human into a vampire, that process was different, and Jack wasn’t entirely certain of it. And now, he realized, not all vampires had the same toxicity in their venom because he had never—never felt like this from a bite before.

CHAPTER 2

"T

hat’s enough," Maddock said.

Quentin stood near the—shivering but refusing to give up and pass out—Dairi as Maddock approached, walking down the row of trailers with two female vampires with him. The women carried silver stakes in both hands and kept their eyes focused on Quentin.

What are you talking about? Quentin asked. He glanced up at the deck where the Dairi’s human companions stood. The older one held the shotgun that had been used on him and bore a black tribal tattoo on his neck, one that Quentin recognized as meaning he’d served in an infantry division against the vampires during the last vampire-human war. The other one, who was barely dressed, looked too young to already be living outside his parents’ home. Odd company indeed for the Dairi to have.

The Dairi made it clear he doesn’t want to go with you. I’m not about to let you kidnap him. I would have expected better from you, Quentin.

I’m going to ask you again, Maddock, what are you talking about?

Two more