Storm: A Paranormal Romance (Savage Brotherhood MC Book 8) Read online

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  Storm

  Savage Brotherhood MC: Book Eight

  A Paranormal Romance

  by Jasmine Wylder

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  All Books in this Series

  Also by Jasmine Wylder

  About Jasmine Wylder

  Chapter One

  Storm

  Daniel stood near the back of the room as everybody partied, danced and drank around him. He had a beer in one hand to stop people from asking him if he wanted anything, but he didn’t take so much as a sip. It was a joyous occasion, he knew that, but he wasn’t much in the mood for celebrating. His uncle, Stewart, and his new wife, Frieda, were at the center of the dance floor, making out. A wedding ought to be happier than this, but Daniel couldn’t shake the frustration and disappointment.

  It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for Stewart and Frieda. He was. They had gone through a lot to get to this point and deserved their happily ever after. What was frustrating was that they had decided to move to Frieda’s house. Daniel had just moved into the apartment Stewart was living in, relieved to have finally convinced his parents that it was safe enough for him to live with his uncle.

  With this development, they were both talking about him moving back to the vampire kingdom his mother ruled.

  It wasn’t that Daniel didn’t see their point. Although he had grown and matured from infancy to adulthood in a year, it was hard for them to let him go. He was their miracle baby, half-vampire, half-shifter. With his mother’s position as queen and with shifters and vampires alike disgusted that he even existed, it was dangerous for him. So, it was doubly hard for his parents to let him go when they knew the threats out here.

  But he was a grown man. Maybe he’d just celebrated his first birthday not long ago, but that didn’t mean he was any less a man. People would think he was his father’s younger brother looking at them. Many people, after talking with him, assumed he was older than his father, even. Daniel didn’t want to put his parents through unnecessary fear, but the fact was… he was a grown man and they weren’t able to see him that way. He needed to start seeing more of the world outside of the vampire kingdom.

  He needed to live his life. He’d been working with the alpha of the Savage Brotherhood, a motorcycle club, to get his fighting skills up to par, but he needed more practical application in relationships, meeting new people… he wasn’t going to be able to do that if he stayed home all his life.

  He glanced around, finding his mother in the crowd. Guinevere would be the harder sell, since she had gone centuries thinking she would never be able to have a child. She looked distracted, unsettled. Did she suspect what he was going to say, that he didn’t intend on moving back?

  With a sigh, Daniel took a gulp of his beer. No time like the present… He started heading over to her. Just when he reached her, though, Guinevere let out a pained cry. She fell to one knee, an arm wrapped around her abdomen. Daniel’s heart jumped to his throat as he rushed to his mother’s side. His father, Andy, was at her other side in a heartbeat.

  Stewart and Frieda approached, looking concerned, and someone turned off the music. “What’s going on?”

  Guinevere’s fingers dug into the carpet. Sweat broke over her pale face, and Daniel grasped her arm. “Mom?”

  “Gwen, look at me,” Andy plead. “What’s happening?”

  “Did she drink too much shifter blood?” somebody in the crowd asked.

  Daniel glanced around helplessly as Guinevere cried out in pain again. Agony twisted her face as she panted. He gripped her arm tightly but didn’t know what to do. His heart pounded shallowly, and the familiar feeling of his wolf rose in his chest, just out of reach; it had been getting stronger since he left the vampire kingdom, but he hadn’t yet been able to shift.

  “Mom,” he pled.

  Guinevere’s sweat-slick face turned to him. Her eyes rolled wildly, unable to focus on him. Her jaw was clenched so tight her small fangs bit into her lip, causing blood to trickle down her chin. She opened her mouth, gasped, and grasped his arm.

  “Daniel,” she choked out. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… the Master has returned. Can you feel it?”

  Daniel’s eyes widened. “The Master?”

  He’d only heard rumors, the name whispered in fear. What was she talking about?

  “He calls for us,” her face contorted with agony again and she dropped to the floor. “He calls for us to obey his will. Destroy his enemies. But I won’t! I can’t… Andy—”

  “I’m here,” Andy said, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m not leaving you.”

  Guinevere let out an inhuman shriek—and then whipped around, her fingernails like claws as they struck across Andy’s face. He let out a howl of pain and surprise as he recoiled. Guinevere’s hands wrapped around his neck and Daniel seized her around the waist, dragging her back. Tears streamed down Guinevere’s face as she sobbed out a single word.

  “Run.”

  Daniel tightened his hold around his mother’s waist as she writhed in his grasp, hands still reaching out for Andy. Andy was there, his eyes wide in fear and betrayal.

  “I can’t fight him,” Guinevere shouted. “I can’t resist his commands. Run! Please! Before I—"

  She choked off her words; at that moment, the doors burst open. A flood of vampires poured into the small space. Daniel let out a strangled shout as his grip on Guinevere loosened. She tore from his grasp and lunged for Andy even as Daniel tried to grab her again. A vampire’s packed fist struck him across the temple and Daniel tumbled back, quickly moving to defend himself blindly. His feet lashed out, catching a vampire in the stomach and pushing him back.

  Daniel rolled to his feet to find a gun pointed right at his face. He tensed, gazing past the gun to see it was Mildred, one of his mother’s handmaids and one of the women who was always there when he was growing up. Tears streaked down her face and with a plummeting heart, he knew she couldn’t control herself, either.

  Glancing around, all the vampires now engaged in fighting the shifters were friends, allies. And all had looks of utter devastation on their faces.

  “I don’t have to kill you,” Mildred whispered. “You’re different, you have not shifted. Please don’t make me kill you.”

  Her voice broke as Guinevere let out a cry of pain. Daniel’s head whipped around to see her fists driving into Andy’s face and chest while he tried to defend himself without hurting his wife. Daniel’s hands moved without him even having to think, knocking aside Mildred’s gun. It went off, the bullet hitting another vampire in the shoulder. She let out a cry as Daniel grabbed her wrist, twisted the gun from her hand and drove a fist into her stomach. His own stomach twisted with pain
and regret, but he couldn’t afford to let himself stop.

  With a few quick twists, he popped Mildred’s arms from her sockets, sending screams from her throat but preventing her from hurting anybody. He lowered her gently to the floor, face twisted in apology, and lunged for his mother, whose fangs were lengthening as they inched towards Andy’s throat.

  Before he reached her, a half dozen more shifters poured into the room. The space was so tightly packed that it was difficult for any of them to move, much less fight. Guinevere was jostled to one side as Typhoon, in his huge wolf’s form, batted vampires aside left and right. But more vampires were coming, strange vampires with a bloodlust bright in their eyes.

  Daniel fought as hard as he could. He twisted arms from their sockets, broke legs, rammed his skull into noses; his skin was cut open by tooth and claw, his blood filled the air. And then a strong fist drove into his kidneys, driving him to his knees. As darkness swirled in front of his vision, Typhoon’s familiar scent curled into his nostrils.

  Confusion whirled in his head; why was Typhoon attacking him? But the fists continued to rain down on him, and Daniel stopped trying to reason it out—he fought back, throwing Typhoon off him briefly before the alpha was on him again.

  And then, a cold, clear voice rang out over them all.

  “Enough.”

  A final fist rammed into Daniel’s face. Typhoon had him by the throat, face twisted as he panted. Sweat broke over his face and with a thrill of horror, Daniel realized what was happening. Typhoon was half vampire, like him. And the Master was able to control vampires… even Typhoon, it seemed.

  Yet Daniel didn’t feel any obligations to attack the other shifters; he was half vamp, too…

  Typhoon jerked him up by his collar and forced him to his knees. Around them, all the vampires were holding the shifters down in similar positions. A few of them looked joyous, but most were just afraid. In through the door strode the biggest, meanest looking vampire Daniel had ever seen. He was easily seven feet tall, with shoulders so broad he had to turn sideways to get through the door. His eyes were blood-red as he glanced over the subjected shifters and grinned.

  “Your master has returned,” he breathed, opening his arms wide. “I am Apep, your god, and it is well that you worship me. I created you from the dust, and it is well that I have returned when I have. Vampires trodden under the feet of beast and men? This shall not do. You are my slaves, you filthy beasts, and you will learn to do as I command.”

  Apep. Daniel growled low in his throat. Guinevere had made sure he knew about his people’s history; Apep was supposedly the first vampire, a god in his time.

  The noise got the vampire’s attention, and he stalked over but didn’t look at Daniel. Instead, Apep put a thick digit beneath Typhoon’s chin and made him look up. “You have the stench of the shifters but the bloodlust of a vampire. How crude, a bastard hybrid. You will be useful to me, anyway.”

  Typhoon let out a choked snarl. Apep’s eyes hardened and his lip lifted, revealing a single fang.

  “A fighter? Well, I will simply have to break the beast’s spirit, won’t I? Kiss my foot.”

  He proffered one of his feet toward Typhoon. He snarled, sweat making his hands clammy, but, as though a giant hand was manipulating his actions, he bent and kissed the foot. Daniel’s chest heaved, but he felt no need to obey the commands Apep was giving—and Typhoon’s sweaty grip on him was failing.

  Daniel ripped himself free of Typhoon and struck Apep in the throat. The giant vampire stumbled back, a surprised look coming to his face, but Daniel didn’t take the time to let that stop him. As the vampires released their shifters and surged to block his path to Apep, he turned on his heel. He grabbed the arm of his aunt, Roxy, and shoved her toward the door. Her husband, Josef, scrambled after her, shielding her with his body, as several of the vampires lifted guns.

  Bullets whistled through the air. Bursts of blood and gunpowder filled the air. Daniel didn’t stop moving, dragging shifters to their feet and shoving them to doors or windows, anywhere he could to get them out.

  The last was his father. His hand was outstretched toward Guinevere as Typhoon remained on his knees next to Apep. Their eyes were wide with horror, and Daniel knew he had no choice. He seized his father and drove him toward the window. Andy shouted, Guinevere called out—and then they tumbled out the window together, falling two stories to land heavily on the ground.

  “Guinevere,” Andy gasped out, trying to shove his son off.

  “If you go back, he’ll make her kill you!” Daniel tightened his grip. “Don’t put us through that, Dad. Please.”

  Andy snarled, but his movements became jerky.

  Daniel dragged him to his feet and limped toward where Frieda and Stewart stood. They had to get to the other shifters. Put out a warning to the Brotherhood—Apep had returned, and everything was going to hell.

  Chapter Two

  Gracie

  Gracie Underhill, 12:45.

  The appointment card was crumpled and damp with sweat. Gracie stared at it again, her stomach twisting into knots as she stepped off the bus into the heart of Ivywood’s downtown. The large city hall, a building made rich with history that Gracie used to adore seeing, now loomed like a deathtrap. Which, in many ways, it was.

  It had been only a few months since her life had been turned upside down. Tears streaked down her face as she saw the same fear on other young women heading for the city hall. Three months ago, she thought vampires and shifters were stuff out of corny romance novels. She never understood the appeal of the supernatural.

  And then vampires had revealed themselves to the world. They’d toppled governments, destroyed the military, and made human beings their slaves. Since then, fifty women were gathered at city hall on the first of every month. Five were chosen—for what, nobody knew, but they were never seen again. The cards came in the mail, telling the women when to gather, what to wear, and a list of questions to prepare answers for.

  Gracie knew that her turn was coming up. When she had gotten the card in the mail, she had sat down and wept. She had considered simply not showing up, packing up the bare essentials and taking off. But the stories of what happened to the other women who’d tried that haunted her. Their families imprisoned, the women themselves taken up to the palaces where their new vampire overlords lived.

  She didn’t have a family, and her friends were few and far between, but Gracie didn’t want to think about what they would do to punish her if she tried to run. If she went to the choosing, then there was a chance she wasn’t going to be chosen. If she tried to run, they’d find her and drag her away. Better go and take the chance she might be able to go home again.

  Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were cold as she climbed the stairs to the city hall. The other women were crying, just as she was, although there were one or two that looked eager—whispering to each other that the chosen women were taken as vampire brides and made into vampires themselves. Gracie shook her head as she walked past them to the reception desk, where a hard-faced vampire woman sat. How could anybody find this exciting?

  “Take the elevator to the top floor,” the vampire woman said without even looking at her. “You’ll be taken to the examination rooms from there.”

  Gracie’s legs trembled, and her throat was dry, but she managed to nod and head for the elevators. Inside, a woman clutched a blanket to her chest, sobbing openly. It was a baby blanket—was she a young mother, facing the possibility of never seeing her child again? Gracie turned her face away, wanting to give some words of comfort but finding nothing to say.

  Out of the elevator, there were several more female vampires waiting. One of them took her by the arm and pulled her silently down the hall, to a cool room where she was told to strip off her clothing. Gracie held in a sob as she did so, wondering what sort of things would happen. To her surprise, the vampire gave her a hospital robe to wear and then did a checkup similar to one that she’d receive at the doctor’s
office.

  “What will happen to me if I’m chosen?” she breathed out, daring to ask. If she was braver, perhaps she’d attack this vampire, try to fight her way free. Or perhaps try to ensure she was chosen, and then blow them all to hell.

  “It depends on what you’re chosen for.” The vampire gave her a pitying look. “You will not be killed. Strong, healthy women as yourself are too valuable a resource. But you may be used to provide blood or sex to our lords, in which case you will most likely wish you were dead… for a time, at least.”

  Gracie shuddered at the thought. “I’m not healthy or strong,” she blurted. “I’m overweight. Don’t you think that they’d rather have someone fitter?”

  “Your medical records state that you are healthy. Your weight is not too high. Now please give me the answers to the questions you were given.”

  Gracie’s heart sank, but she dutifully pulled out the question card and handed it over. The vampire took it. Her eyes widened when she saw the card, visibly shaken. Gracie stared, wanting to ask what that was about but not quite daring. The vampire quickly left the room, and Gracie waited, shivering. Moments later, she returned with a tall, thin man who looked more like a walking corpse than anything else.

  “Come with me,” he grumbled at her, eyes bright with curiosity.

  Gracie reached for her clothes.

  “You won’t need those,” the man grunted and grabbed her arm. “We cannot keep the master waiting.”

  Terror flooded her. The master—she had seen his image on TV. A huge vampire, claiming to be the Egyptian God Apep. If she had eaten anything earlier, she would have thrown it up right now. What did he want with her? She was just a struggling single in a city full of people. What could she have possibly done to receive attention from the god of all vampires?

  “No,” she gasped out, beginning to struggle against his hold. “No, please don’t!”

  She turned back to the female vampire. Guilt was written across her face as she turned her back. Gracie punched the vampire holding her. Her mind was an utter blank as terror consumed her, her arms and legs flailing of their own accord. She screamed, writhing in the vampire’s grasp, but he didn’t seem to notice. Her blows might have been puffs of wind for all they moved him. Tears streamed down her face, and her heart beat wildly.