Authors: Amira Rain
BY THE VAMPIRES
A PARANORMAL MENAGE ROMANCE
©2016 by Amira Rain
All rights reserved.
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About This Book
In a world where fertile women are frozen for thousands of years to help future generations to reproduce....
Curvy Harper North is the latest girl to be
Handsome vampires Abbott and Daniel are excited to receive Harper and can not wait to begin using her for their own sexual pleasure as part of a three-way relationship.
However, both the vampires are in for a
surprise when they discover that Harper already knows everything about who they are and all the things they might have previously done.
Can a steamy night of passion help change Harper's mind about her new lovers? Or is revenge a dish best served
This is the final book in the bestselling MELTED series. Each book can be read standalone and in any order you like. So start with this one!
It was finally time.
Time for me to meet the two men I was going to assassinate. Time for me to meet the two men I was going to murder in cold blood. But first, before this meeting could take place, I had to find a matching sock, or else look like an absolute idiot. I'd been melted for about a week. I'd awoken in a hospital, feverish, but with my memory mercifully intact. The memory-strengthening spell that I'd cast over myself before being frozen had worked perfectly. It was all going according to plan. Mostly, anyway.
Once my fever had broken and I'd been declared perfectly healthy, I'd been transported to an apartment on the thirty-ninth floor of a forty-story building in the heart of the city, and there I remained. I hadn't had a choice but to remain. I'd been given all the material possessions and comforts I could want, but I hadn't been given freedom.
Essentially, I'd been kept prisoner. Hardly any visitors, no phone, no trips out of the city.
And my apartment door was one that locked from the inside
the outside. The key to the outside lock could lock and unlock both, but, by some mechanism I didn't even fully understand,
couldn't unlock the outside lock from the inside. This was how Brenda, the older woman who did my laundry and brought me fresh food every couple of days, had been able to keep me contained.
She'd said it was for my own good. As the last frozen woman on earth to be thawed, and thus, very important and valuable to the two leaders of the city, there was great concern about something happening to me if I were to be allowed to go out and about. I suspected that this was really less about something happening
me, and more about me trying to flee. I'd heard a hushed conversation between two nurses while in the hospital, something about a phenomenon called "frozen woman flight," which was apparently fairly common.
Because it didn't affect my mission, I hadn't really cared that much about being confined. At least, I hadn't once gotten past the second day, when a low-level sense of panic I'd had since awakening, peaked in some sort of wild tantrum that had just kind of happened.
The panic soon left me, but while I'd been in the grip of it, I'd heaved my body against the door, unsuccessfully trying to break it down, yelling; later, when Brenda came with some groceries, she saw me trying to break windows with my shoes in some desperate, half-ass attempt to escape the apartment by climbing down the face of the building.
I attempted the window-breaking right in front of her, right when she was in the apartment, and hadn’t even cared. She called a guard, some tall, stern-faced, gray-haired man, and when he warned me to cease all efforts to escape, I threw several pairs of shoes at his face. He ducked, making me miss, and he and Brenda then removed all shoes from my apartment. Brenda said that anything else I tried to use to escape or attack people with, would go, too.
That had been one of the few things she said to me all week. She asked me if I'd recovered my memory, and I said yes; she told me that I was in a sovereign city-state called New Detroit, which was located within the nation of Michiana. Then she told me that the co-leaders of the city, who I was to sleep with in hopes of producing a child, were away on some sort of a hunting trip and would be back in about a week. She also told me that these two men were vampires. Other than a few other things of no particular importance, that had been about it.
When she'd told me that I'd be sleeping with
men in hopes of producing a child, I'd done my best to widen my eyes in what I hoped was a genuine-seeming expression of shock and surprise. But the reality was that this news wasn't any kind of a surprise at all. Same with the news about these two men being vampires. I already knew they would be. But again, I'd had to feign a little wide-eyed surprise, hoping that my acting skills were convincing. They seemed to be.
Brenda had just left my apartment after coming by to inform me that the city's two leaders had returned from their trip, and would be by to pay me a visit shortly. She hadn't said anything else, just this, and then had immediately left, leaving me to wonder just exactly what kind of a "visit" I was soon to receive.
If it was just a visit to make introductions, I was ready for that; and if it was to be a
visit already, I was ready for that, too. Over the course of the week, I'd told myself that a
visit was inevitable, and I'd just have to endure it in order to accomplish my goal of a double assassination.
There was just no way around it. I knew I had to act like I was just any other frozen woman, one who'd agreed to be frozen for the good of humanity, and one who had come to accept what she'd been told, that she'd be sleeping with two men in order to produce a child for one of them. However, I didn't have to
all this, and I didn't feel like I even had to act like I did.
From what I heard about The Darkness Coven, the vampire community led by the two city leaders, they weren't the type of men who'd care if I was pleased with the situation I'd found myself in after being thawed, or not.
I couldn't figure out why in the hell I was in such a frenzy about finding a matching sock. After only finding a single sock in my drawer and putting in on, I'd been in search of another one, hopefully a matching one, when Brenda had come to deliver the news of the two leaders' impending visit.
The moment she'd left, I threw my search into overdrive, rechecking my sock drawer for any additional socks, maybe a stray one in the back, but I'd found it empty. I then flew into the bathroom to check the laundry hamper. No luck there, either. The hamper was empty. And that's when I'd remembered that Brenda had taken my laundry in a bag that morning. The single sock on my one foot was likely the only sock in my apartment.
With all my shoes having been confiscated earlier that week, I realized I now had two choices. I could greet my two "visitors" barefoot, which I absolutely did not want to do, or I could greet them with one sock on, which I absolutely did not want to do, either.
I didn't want to greet them with one sock on for the obvious reason of not wanting to appear like an imbecile, and I didn't want to greet them barefoot because, in addition to the fact that that just seemed overly casual and strange, I'd always hated my feet. Small and blocky, with toes pretty much all the same length, they'd always struck me as borderline disfigured.
People often described them as "cute" or "darling," which, though I understood that people were just trying to be nice, always rankled me. I'd always wanted feet that were longer and elegant, feet that I could show off, instead of always trying to keep them disguised with socks and shoes.
When it came to the two men who'd be arriving at my apartment soon, I really wasn't sure why I cared. So they'd see my little block feet if I answered the door barefoot. So they might think my feet were weird, on top of the general weirdness of a person receiving visitors barefoot. So what. These were men I was going to kill.
It shouldn't have mattered to me
these men thought about me, or my feet. But it did, at least a little. I really wasn't even sure why, except for maybe just a touch of simple human vanity, or maybe
desire for full
was the right phrase. Lord only knew that as a captive during the previous week, a captive who'd had her shoes confiscated, and a captive not even allowed to step foot out her own apartment door, I'd felt slightly deprived in the dignity department.
I hadn't yet made up my mind whether to go with bare feet or one sock-foot when I heard a knock on the door.
I was in my bedroom, but the knock was loud enough for me to hear it, even though the apartment door was down a short hallway and across the spacious living room to the foyer. It had been the knock of a person who was insistent on being let in and wasn't used to waiting.
I jerked open my underwear drawer, wondering if I'd maybe accidentally thrown a pair of socks in there the last time I'd put laundry away. But I found nothing. "Damn."
The loud, insistent knock sounded again, and I began striding out of my bedroom, feet padding on the hardwood flooring. "Just a minute!"
In the foyer, there was a shoe rack that had used to contain some of my shoes before they'd been confiscated, and I had a sliver of hope that maybe at some point, I'd peeled off a pair of socks and had set them on the rack. I knew this was one in a million, though.
For one thing, being that I'd been confined, I hadn't been taking off shoes and socks upon entering and exiting the apartment, because of course, I
been entering and exiting the apartment. For another thing, even if I
been, leaving socks hanging around just wasn't something I'd ever do. I'd always been into order and cleanliness, unable to even sit down until everything was in its place.
When I reached the foyer and the shoe rack, I saw that my suspicion had been right. I hadn't left any socks on the rack. I heaved a sigh, and a moment later, the loud, insistent knocking sounded again. It was so loud, in fact, that now that I was near it, I jumped a mile, startled.
"Just a minute! Just a damned minute!"
I glanced down at my feet, wondering again if I should go sock-less or at least keep on the one I had. I wondered if maybe the latter would make the two men that were surely behind the door feel a bit bad about having made me come to the door so hastily with only one sock. Like either of them actually had a conscience and could feel bad about anything, though. I knew neither of them did.
Having a flash of inspiration, I realized that Brenda hadn't confiscated a soft, fuzzy pair of navy blue slippers in my closet. Mind racing, I tried to imagine which of three scenarios would afford me the most dignity. First scenario, answering the door barefoot, the second, answering with only one sock on, and the third, answering wearing fuzzy slippers with my jeans and sweatshirt.
I'd just decided to dash back to my bedroom for the slippers when another knock sounded, followed by the sound of a deep male voice.
"We're allowing you to answer your own door as a courtesy to you, but if you do not open it within three seconds, we're going to assume you're trying to make some sort of escape attempt by breaking a window again, and we're going to go ahead and let ourselves in. Your door is already unlocked. Three seconds."
Suddenly my blocky feet, dignity, and slippers were the furthest things from my mind.
With my pulse accelerating, I grabbed the doorknob and yanked the door open. "You're
me to answer my own door as a
to me? Well, how
courteous of you. How very...how...."
I swallowed and fell silent. The lava that flooded my veins at what had been said to me, quickly cooled upon me getting a look at the speaker.
Tall, dark-haired, impossibly handsome, and extremely well-built, he stood with a hand on the door frame, expression expectant, as if waiting for me to continue. "'How very' what? Go right ahead."
Some ways behind him, out in the hallway, another impossibly handsome, tall, dark-haired, extremely well-built man looked up from his phone, as if also interested to hear what I'd been going to say. This man's eyes were a pale, icy blue, and the man who'd spoken to me had eyes the color of dark, angry storm clouds.
I had no idea what to say. Had no idea what I'd been starting to say. All I knew was that my heart was hammering in my ears, and I just wanted these two devastatingly attractive men to leave.
With my hand seeming to move almost of its own accord, I began slowly closing the door. "I don't want any visitors, so please leave."
The gray-eyed man stuck a booted foot in the doorway to stop it from closing. "No."
I just hadn't expected my two assassination targets to be so drop-dead gorgeous. I hadn't expected them to have muscular chests that appeared to have been carved from marble. I hadn't expected them to have strong, square jaws, and gazes so intense they almost seemed to look right into my very soul. I certainly hadn't expected them to have lightly tanned skin.