Page 77 of Veiled Flames (Destiny of Dragons #1)

Ana

I must save Alexei!

Mother and father are dead. My sisters too. Only my little brother and I are still breathing.

I struggle against the vise grip of the Bolshevik brute who’s carrying me.

My mind returns to the present. My brother Alexei is long ago dead. Gone for over a hundred years.

And the arms currently crushing me belong to one of Mariano’s monstrous guards. I’ve been kidnapped.

The vampire’s massive body is hard as stone. His body odor reminds me of the forest—probably why I flashed to the memory of being there—but it’s tinged with something spicy and exotic.

I can’t avoid gulping down lungfuls of his essence, no choice in the matter as he holds me so close. He smells of masculinity and danger, and my adrenaline pumps wildly.

Snapping more fully out of my flashback, I know I wasn’t just taken from the room where my family was murdered, despite the similarities to what happened over a hundred years ago.

My mind is still scrambled, but one thing is certain.

The scene today was a massacre. A massacre that wounded all of the DEFTA security team members sent to guard me.

I have no idea if any died, but the melee most certainly killed Timur.

The image of that wooden stake protruding from my blood partner’s chest floods my mind and grief chokes my throat.

“Is the entrance blocked?” my captor’s deep voice vibrates through me like a bass drum, as he continues to run.

“Mission accomplished,” says another deep voice from behind us. “You know how much I love a good boom.” He chuckles.

“Where are we taking her?” asks another voice.

My captor slows.

This is my chance.

“Let me down!” I say as firmly as I can with my face pressed against the vampire’s body.

He tosses me into the air ahead of him, and then catches me under my arms as I drop, holding me aloft in his eyesight.

I gasp.

“Promise not to run?” he asks me.

He’s holding my feet far off the ground, like I’m a small child, and I suppose that’s how I appear to him, being barely seventeen when I turned.

The vampire’s eyes are hidden behind dark glasses and the rest of his features are shaded by the baseball style cap, but it’s not difficult to perceive that his expression is grim, serious, threatening.

I am brave, but this vampire is terrifying.

Another vampire steps up beside him. Removing his cap, he nods toward me with respect, almost deference.

Running from his ears to his nose, two symmetrical scars mar this vampire’s dark brown skin, as if put there to accentuate the angle of his sharp cheekbones and the sculpted valley that spreads down from there to his strong jaw.

I turn back to the one holding me. His face is still shadowed by the cap, but his skin is olive, and his unmoving lips are symmetrical and full, perfectly lush except for a thick scar that transverses the right side.

I have never been more terrified. Not since I was a human.

He sets me down.

I run, but he grabs me around my waist, lifting me off the ground using only one arm.

Kicking behind me, I curse the length of my silk gown and my bare feet—what happened to my shoes? My bare heels strike thighs as hard as steel girders, and I slam my arms down over the arm gripping me.

My captor takes that opportunity to trap my arms, pulling my body back even more tightly against his than before, but this time facing away from him.

“Let me go!” I shout.

“Listen.” The scarred vampire steps into my view and he pushes his sunglasses into the short, dark hair at the top of his head.

Our gazes meet, and a wave of terror rushes through me, along with something else—a feeling I don’t recognize, but it flows through me like a wave, then lands to pulse somewhere deep in my belly.

While the second vampire’s skin is deep brown, his eyes are silvery gray, and the combination is so striking it steals my ability to speak, to breathe. Other than the two thin scars on his cheekbones, this man’s skin is flawless, gleaming, like highly polished stone or glazed porcelain.

He bends to look directly into my eyes. “We have no plans to hurt you.” His gray eyes flicker in the darkness, their scrutiny incredibly intense but beautiful, and for a moment I’m lost, drawn into them with the sensation I’m falling down through that trap door again.

Restoring my senses, I bend my knees toward my chest and kick forward, aiming for his crotch, but he catches my feet and laughs as he holds them aloft.

“Can’t get much momentum for kicking from that position.”

“Thanks for the tip.” I glare at him.

A grin spreads on his face, and his hand slides over my ankle.

My gut contracts.

Then his expression shifts and he drops my legs like I’m on fire.

Another vampire steps into view and removes his cap. This one has hair so blond it’s almost white. It’s cut short on the sides but thick on top, swept back from his forehead. His skin is pale, out of place on a man otherwise rugged and tough. He seems carved out of marble.

His eyes flash multiple hues of blues so bright they’re almost unreal.

Vampires’ appearances are always like their human ones but better.

Even as a man, this vampire must have been devastatingly handsome.

All three of them must have been, if I’m being honest with myself.

But I don’t want to see my captors as attractive.

“No point in fighting,” the blond vampire says. “We’re not going to hurt you, princess. Goes against our code.”

Realizing I’m still struggling, I stop. I’m wasting energy. Even if I got free from my captor, I’m outnumbered four to one, and outweighed by a factor of ten, based on their heights and massive muscles.

“I’m Flame.” The blond vampire’s eyes widen and flash as he speaks, almost like saying his name excites him. Raising his right hand, his fingers curl, and then he flicks them open. A literal flame rises from his fingertips.

Fear traces through me—can this vampire set himself on fire?—but then I see he’s holding a match between his index and middle fingers.

How did he light it? Where did it come from?

His gaze snaps toward the flame, obvious desire in his eyes. He tosses the match into the darkness and it burns out before hitting the floor of whatever tunnel-like space we’re inside.

“This ugly one’s Blade.” Flame nods toward the objectively beautiful Black man with the gray eyes. “And the one whose arms are so gently holding you—” he grins “—is Crusher.”

The man behind me grunts. His hold lessens slightly, enough so my bones are no longer in danger of snapping, but not enough to let me move. I stay alert for a chance to escape.

“And the shy one behind us—” his head gestures down the tunnel “—is Phil.”

Phil? Seriously? These vampires are named Crusher, Blade, Flame—and Phil?

“I’m not fucking shy.” A deep voice booms from behind me, and the fourth vampire steps into view. He’s the tallest, by far the broadest, and most definitely does not look like a Phil.

Removing his cap, he reveals a head topped with flaming red curls that surround a square face dotted with freckles. Removing his sunglasses, he slides the arm into the collar of his t-shirt, and tucks the rim of his cap into the back of his jeans.

He nods sharply toward me. “Pleased to be of service, ma’am.”

“Kidnapping is a service ?” I snap. “Not to the one being kidnapped, it isn’t.”

Phil lifts his gaze from the floor to meet mine.

His eyes are golden, as gold as the amber room in the home in St. Petersburg where I lived as a child.

I suck in a sharp breath as the beauty of his eyes’ melds with memories I’d long ago buried.

But my memories vanish as I realize his eyes are sparking with humor.

Is he laughing at me? At my predicament?

He chuckles. “Lady’s got a point.” Stepping back, he folds his arms over his massive chest. “So, what’s your plan?” he asks, looking above my head.

“Don’t have one.” Crusher lives up to his name as his arms tighten around me again.

“Then why did you take her ?” Phil asks.

Crusher’s chest shifts behind me. “Like Flame said. The code.”

Phil’s eyes narrow, but he nods.

“What code?” I ask. I am not going to be a pawn in their nefarious kidnapping mission. And who has a code for kidnapping?

I will not be a hostage, held for ransom or demands. I assume the Mariano Syndicate thinks holding me hostage will get the vampire monarchy to bend to their will. It won’t work. I may be a princess, but there is no chance the Marianos will get what they want, not even if they kill me.

“Follow orders, complete the mission, protect the innocent.” Flame steps back into my line of sight.

“What are you talking about?” I shake my head.

“You asked about our code,” Flame replies. Even though I’m using my night vision, his blond hair is bright and vivid, and he reminds me a bit of that actor who plays the Norse God in those comic book movies. Except way bigger.

“Whose orders? Who ordered you to kidnap me?” I ask. “Mariano?” Of course it was him. “Timur was innocent , so you’ve already broken your code.”

“Timur?” asks Phil. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Shit.” Blade steps forward. “I should have realized. The one who got staked was your mate.” Eyes filling with concern, he bows forward. “For our part in the death of your mate, we owe you our lives.”

“What?” Phil turns toward the tall Black vampire, then looks between the other three.

“Wasn’t me.” Flame lifts his hands palms forward, and Crusher’s body shifts.

“Regardless of who wielded the stake,” Blade says. “We are complicit in the death of her mate.” He drops to his knees. “Princess, I hereby pledge my life to you.” He stares up toward me. “I am now and forever in your service, and I vow to protect your life with my own.”

Crusher lowers my feet to the ground, but I’m too stunned to take advantage of the chance to run. All four men kneel and repeat Blade’s words, all pledging their lives to me.

For kidnappers, these four vampires are acting strangely.

They’ve made an incorrect assumption. But if it will keep them from killing me, I’m happy for them to believe that Timur was my mate.