The Vloodmir Vampires

AVAILABLE FOR KINDLE PURCHASE ON AMAZON // When a lust for equality and desire to break free from a tight autocratic structure forces itself into the hearts of the fed-up, hero's will rise. But when one large plan is altered by those on the side lines, who will fall and who will take the power from the Vloodmirs? But most of all, who will survive and who will die? Will secrets be leaked and will lovers become haters of one another?
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6. Chapter Three

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

BLOOD red BLOOD

 

There wasn’t a funeral for Joseph. It wouldn’t have mattered if there was a funeral – no one would’ve shown up. No one cared enough, of course there were the clients, but that was strictly professional, Joseph wasn’t the type to have many friends, they were normally scared off by his decreasing sanity. Genevieve on the other hand was having the time of her life unlike Evelyn, basking in the money being dropped off constantly. Lawyers came over to sort out family debts and dues. Joseph’s family had all been killed off by Rogue Vampires who were a known group. ‘The Black Foxes’. So there was little money in return from that. Of course, the Parker’s family savings (on Joseph’s side) had been cleared out and given to Genevieve as she was his next of kin, but little Evelyn received nothing. She may have looked eighteen, but as she wasn’t next of kin, she didn’t receive anything. She would, however, when her mother was dead. But Genevieve Parker wasn’t going to be dying any time soon. She was tough, young and a woman of power and influence, despite doing nothing and spending her days throwing party after party, faking grief when needed. It made Evelyn want to vomit. She was offered time off at school and she didn’t take it. She was known as Trusoni dirt, already kicked down. She didn’t need something else to be held against her. So, slamming the expensive front door behind her she began the walk to school. Glancing over her shoulder, she realised how out of place her house was. It wasn’t shabby like the others and it wasn’t a crappy brothel. Lost in her own little world, Evelyn didn’t hear her front door open and the repulsive, sappy voice of her mother greeting a young Vampire. Only after turning she saw what her ears had failed to pick up. Watching the door close behind, she abandoned her plan of going to school and silently walked back. Vloodmir Comprehensive allowed students to wear what they wanted, meaning that the girls looked like whores and the guys looked like man – whores. Of course, there were limits, but not many.

 

Pulling her over the knee socks up and tugging her skirt down she let her blouse rest out over the top, blazer sleeves shoved up to the elbow. Evelyn was tempted to remove her heels, but she wasn’t in the mood to ruin her socks – they were nice. Heading around the back, Evelyn silently pressed her hand against the wooden, decaying door and went to push it open, suddenly deciding against that she took a couple of steps back and ran to the door, cleanly vaulting herself over and gently landing on the floor. Staying in a crouch she stuck to the wall, the bricks clinging to the fabric, threatening to rip it, but the bricks never got a chance. Evelyn kept moving and soon she was at the back, her heels resting on the uneven patio. Slowly making her way forward she was glad for feeling too hot in the morning. Gripping the dining room window she yanked it open and scrambled up, cleanly swung herself in, landing on the floor. Her heels – for the first time – making a sound. Stiffening her eyes would dart from left to right in fear. She was bound to be caught. “Why is your daughter thinking that you’re going to kill her?” A new voice enquired.

“Well she did try to kill me with a butter knife. The stupid child.” Genevieve’s voice held a laugh, it was clear she was trying to impress this person, whoever they were. The voice was clearly male and had an American voice. It was one of those sexy voices which normally belonged to people who looked terrible. Hanging her head, Evelyn walked in, raising her head with a look of quiet anger on her face. Looking at the young man he smirked, nodding his head in greeting.

“Evelyn, darling, this is Elliot. Elliot King.”

“ ‘The Elliot’…” Evelyn nodded, pulling her lips in and nodding her head.

“No, the other one.” Elliot grinned, a glint in his eyes.

Shaking her head, Evelyn sighed in a half laugh.

“Well, now you are both acquainted, you two can run along.”

“Wait, what?” Evelyn’s eyebrows jumped up, confusion on her face.

“You’re my new murder buddy.” Elliot grinned, pushing his hair back, yet it rioted and fell back to where it was beforehand. It was rather cute, on Evelyn’s standards. But she thought that eighty percent of the boys at the school were cute and out of that eighty percent had kissed about 75 percent.

“I’m sorry, I’m you’re new what?” Evelyn looked forward, her eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open in disgust.

“American humour? Jeeze! Calm down.”

 

Gripping the pillow to her chest, Evelyn sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Elliot was still downstairs with her mother. They had been down there for ages. Closing her eyes, she tried so hard to ignore her phone constantly going off. She was bound to have a tonne of messages about why she wasn’t in, emails about homework, classwork and the missed drama. Whenever Evelyn was in school, nothing major happened, yet when she wasn’t – everything seemed to happen. It was rather stupid. Turning her head as the door was pushed open, Elliot stood there, the stubble around his mouth adding to his age. He looked like he was in his early twenties, not that much older than Evelyn. “What do you want?”

“You aren’t in school.”

“What do you want?”

“Food.”

“Really?” Evelyn’s voice did nothing to hide the surprise. It wasn’t like the Parker’s had millions of blood bags or feeders to share. In fact, their feeder had died from lack of oxygen.

“Don’t be stupid.” Elliot’s voice was harsh. Harsh but with a hint of humour it was hard to pin point what the tone actually was. “I don’t need food. Get ready.”

“For what?” Evelyn was so confused.

“Wearing something slutty.”

“I don’t own anything of the sort!” Evelyn was defensive, forcing herself not to look at her wardrobe. She had so many short ‘slutty’ dresses she could use.

“I know you have some. You’re thinking of it now.”

“How do you-”

“I can read minds, you should know that honestly.”

“Well can you not? I mean, try not to. And don’t speak my thoughts aloud. It’s unnerving.”

“Well I’m sorry I did that.” Elliot’s voice was mocking and dripping sarcasm.

“You aren’t.”

“No. Now get changed, Evie.” He grinned and winked, shutting the door behind him. He would be waiting outside the door, that Evelyn knew very well. Slowly walking to her wardrobe she opened the door, looking inside, chewing her lip gently. Closing her eyes she grabbed the dress, a dress, any dress. She felt the sequins in her hand. She knew what it was before she opened her eyes. Low back, repulsively short and sequins. It wasn’t Evelyn’s style whatsoever. Shoving it on she looked at herself in the mirror, grimacing. “I’m sure you look fine!” Elliot yelled, laughing. He was reading Evelyn’s thoughts. She thought she looked ugly. Throwing her door open she had her hands on her hips and Elliot let out a low whistle. “Dayum girl!”

“I’m not a ‘girl’ you idiot.” Evelyn growled.

“Don’t growl sweetheart, it’s really not becoming on you.”

“Neither are you.”

“Pardon?”

“That whole ‘oh I’m so charming because I want to distract you thing’. I practically invented that!”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Elliot grinned, pushing his hair back. It was a habit of his, of course it wasn’t an adorable habit, but it was better than him chewing his nails or swearing. Well, Elliot wasn’t an Angel, he was far from it, but he was better than his brother. A much better sight. Offering his arm to Evelyn he grinned, the expression still on his face as he watched her walk down the stairs. Her mind was open to him and he could access the deepest, darkest corners of it. Nothing could stop him.

 

He heard Evelyn go down the stairs, he could hear her thinking about shoes. She wasn’t trying to be pretty – but she was. Pushing himself off the wall he walked down the stairs, tugging down on his shirt. He was dressed in full black: black shirt done up halfway, black jeans and boots. Resting his arms lazily over the railings he grinned again, it was tantalizing for Evelyn, having to look at that grin but it was tantalizing for Elliot to watch her pick out a pair of heels. She had too many, and they were all so shiny!

“Will I have to carry you in those heels?”

“Well I’m not going to be dragging corpses through the woods so no.” Was her blunt reply, shoving some heels on. They were rather nice, shiny. Elliot had a small love for shiny things. Sequins, knives, rings, necklaces, daggers, swords, hairpins, diamonds. Anything which had a metallic taste, feel or look was appealing to Elliot. So Evelyn was like a million dollars to him. He could sense Evelyn turning her Morality off, he could feel as if Evelyn would become horrendously slutty but looking to the door where Genevieve was her thoughts were a tangled mess. She had had too much tequila. She was drunk and it wasn’t even evening.

“You ready?” Elliot asked, wiping his palms on his jeans. He didn’t like this area of Vloodmir, where he was from – the higher end of Vloodmir due to his family heritage – this part of Vloodmir was known as ‘Slutmir’ due to the . . . scandalous going ons. It was hardly surprising Elliot felt uncomfortable as he walked down the scrappy roads, young women trying to seduce but fail with their sinful attire.

“Yeah.” Evelyn responded, her head held a little higher and her heels giving a click on the floor as she walked. “I’m ready.”

Elliot grinned as Evelyn threw open the door. “My god it’s freezing!” She yelled and slammed the door shut. Genevieve still hadn’t awoken. Both were thankful for that.

 

“I said you should’ve brought a coat.” Elliot’s voice was cold and unyielding.

“Well you said it wasn’t far away!” Evelyn growled. She was seriously pissed of. Her hair was soaked and the curls were damp and clinging to her face. She should’ve put it in loose dreadlocks. Elliot’s hair still had the same style, it was just wet.

“Well it’s there.” Elliot growled. Evelyn may be wearing shiny things, but that didn’t make her any more likeable. She ignored his advice and he could see she regretted it when it began to rain. It wasn’t even little rain it was big rain. “I could carry you. . .” Elliot offered, but was cut off by Evelyn’s running. Tilting his head, he looked at her, the way her hair reflected the lights made it look shiny. He watched her, he saw the marking on her neck. It had been branded onto her neck. The heartbeat like symbol, her electricity. No wonder she was harsh. Of course, that was like blaming a personality trait off your Zodiac sign. ‘No, I don’t care that you’re a workaholic Susan because you’re a Capricorn’ Sod off.

 

The club was impressive. The Sanity Syndrome was the only club around and well known. It was a large building, very expensive and kept well out of the way from the housing estates, thus being shoved into the quieter side of town to liven things up on a weekend night. There were mixed opinions about The Sanity Syndrome. It was great for business, but terrible as well. In a sealed off city of Vampires, of course drunkenness would hit them all hard. The club was run by a werewolf, of course, the Vampires regarded him as a close friend as he managed to get them drunk with huge hangovers. He was a party animal – pun not intended – and he knew everything which went on. Gripping the door handle, Evelyn yanked it open and dashed in, the swarms of people swallowing her up. Elliot had no choice but to follow. He could be a party animal – besides, there was always something he could steal.

 

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