Caught: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance Read online

  CAUGHT

  A VAMPIRE BLOOD COURTESANS NOVEL

  Julia Mills

  Copyright © 2017, Julia Mills, and Michelle Fox incorporating the world created in the publication ‘Blood Struck’ © 2013 by Michelle Fox under the brand ‘Blood Courtesan’ republished as “reborn” in 2016 and used under this license.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. By purchasing this book, you have been granted to non-exclusive and non-transferrable right to access and read it. No part of this text may be duplicated, reproduced, reverse engineered, transmitted, downloaded, or stored without the author’s written permission. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  NOTICE: This is an adult erotic paranormal romance with love scenes and mature situations. It is only intended for adult readers over the age of 18.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Edited by Lisa Miller, Angel Editing Services

  Proofread by Tammy Payne with Book Nook Nuts

  Cover Designed by Monica La Porta

  Formatted by Charlene Bauer with Wickedly Bold Creations

  Author’s Note

  A special thanks to Charlene Bauer and Kelli Smith for reading along with me as I wrote this story. I could not have done it without you! You Rock My World!

  To Michelle Fox for letting me be a part of her amazing world and the other authors who have joined this crazy ride. I had an absolute blast! I am humbled to be in such fabulous company.

  For all the readers out there, I hope this tickles your fangs and makes you want more.

  Remember, it’s only thirty days, what could go wrong? ;)

  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

  INTRO TO SET

  ALSO BY JULIA MILLS

  ABOUT JULIA MILLS

  Chapter One

  “Vampires?” I couldn’t believe my ears. Vanessa knew how I felt about those fanged freaks. “You’re kidding me, right?” I had to get up and walk into the kitchen where she was making us tea to make sure I’d heard her correctly. “There’s no freakin’ way I’m trusting a vampire, of all things, to help me with this or anything else.”

  Vanessa and I had been friends since the first day of nursing school, took our state boards together, got hired at Methodist Dallas Medical Center on the same day, and sadly, attended my brother’s funeral together shortly thereafter. Putting your last blood relative to rest is not something you should do alone and thank God, I didn’t have to. Vanessa was my best friend, the sister I never had, and the best person I knew. So, she had to be kidding, right?

  As soon as I saw her face, I knew she wasn’t. “Just listen to me, Kat.” She poured the boiling water into the mugs, returned the kettle to the stove, and then turned and leaned her hip against the kitchen counter. “I know what you’ve lost at the hands of vampires. I was there for the last chapter, remember?”

  “Not to mention that vampires ultimately caused what I’m going through now,” I scoffed to keep from screaming.

  “If you’d just listen, I have a point to make.” Vanessa shook her head and sighed in exasperation. “Just like people, there are good vampires and bad. You’ve only ever dealt with the bad. The ones that killed your brother…bad.” She held up the index finger on her right hand. “The ones that forced those kids to sell drugs and then fed from them until they were little more than skin and bones,” she added a finger, taking her count up to two, then added, “bad. The ones who leave people dead and dying in the streets that we get to patch up in the ER every night…bad, bad, bad.” She held three fingers high and made her eyes wide while waiting for me to agree.

  Finally, I nodded, just to see where she was going with what was obviously a well thought out argument. As usual, my bestie did not disappoint. “I want to make something clear. Something I’ve been preaching since you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar, so to speak.” She leveled her gaze at me. “You are responsible for the actions you took to help those children.”

  My best friend held up her hand as I started to object. “You had other options. Options I know you say would’ve scared them away or worse yet back into the hands of the very creatures who exploited them, used them, abused them, and left them for dead.” Vanessa paused and gave me her mother look before continuing. “But there were still other avenues you could’ve taken than stealing from the hospital. That is on you and you have to own it.”

  As she turned to finish our tea, I thought about picking up the crystal bowl that had been my grandmother’s and throwing it on the ground in frustration or at the very least, arguing my point…again, but my conscience wouldn’t let me. Vanessa was right. There had been other options. I had simply chosen the wrong one. That was on me and now I was caught like a rat in a trap, and my best friend thought vampires, of all things, could help me. I was sure the pressure of the last few days was causing her to have a breakdown of some kind.

  The whole mess started after an especially long day in the Emergency Room that included a double shift, a school bus crash, and hundreds of grieving parents. Stumbling out of the double doors and into the parking lot of Methodist Dallas Medical Center, I gulped my first breath of air that didn’t smell like antiseptic, blood, and the agony of loss, and simply let the chaos of the day roll off my back. Looking up at the starry night, I prayed for all the families who would go home without their loved ones then stepped out of the way of an approaching ambulance.

  Tommy, the EMT who’d been asking me out for the last month, jumped out of the driver’s seat with his usual easy smile and waved. “Hey Kat. How’s it going?”

  “Pretty good, Tommy,” I lied.

  Making his way to the rear of the ambulance, he asked, “You walking home? Isn’t it kinda late to be out all alone?”

  “Yeah, I guess, but I need to clear my head and a walk is just what the doctor ordered,” I answered, turning and taking a few steps before he responded.

  “Oh, okay then. Be careful. Catch ya later.”

  “See you tomorrow,” I answered over my shoulder while sighing in relief that he hadn’t asked me to have a cup of coffee with him for the umpteenth time.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t like Tommy. He was a nice enough guy, but I wasn’t at a place in my life where I wanted it complicated with a man. I had a new apartment, a great job, and friends; that was pretty much all I could handle for the time being. Mom had always said I would know when the right guy came along, that I would feel it in my bones. To date, I hadn’t felt anything in my bones, or any other region of my body, but the unseasonably cold weather that had recently descended upon the Dallas/Fort Worth area.

  Leisurely walking toward home, thinking about a cup of hot chocolate and a long soak in the tub, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a little girl with tangled dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes appeared out of nowhere. Her dingy,
pink woolen coat was way too big and out of style, not to mention soiled and musty smelling, but the way she reached out her bare, shaking hand and sobbed, “We need your help,” nearly broke my heart.

  Looking around, I found the street deserted. Where was a policeman when you needed one? My moment of indecision apparently spooked the child, because she disappeared just as quickly as she had appeared. Throwing caution to the wind, along with my better judgement, I ran around the corner, caught sight of the back of her, and raced down the alley, screaming, “Hang on. I’ll help! Don’t run away!”

  Rounding the third corner, I skidded to a stop. Barely missing the little girl, out of breath and sure I’d lost my mind, I leaned against the brick of an abandoned textiles factory and wheezed, “Why did you run?”

  With wide eyes and the one foot already positioned to run again, she trembled, “I heard their car.”

  Not sure what to make of the way she kept looking from side-to-side and over her shoulder, as if she was expecting trouble, I asked, “Who are ‘they’?”

  Stepping forward, she cupped her chapped little hands around her mouth and whispered, “The Runners.”

  More lost than I was before and beginning to feel uneasy at the isolated area I had blindly followed the child into, I blew out a long breath and inquired, “Who are the Runners?”

  Shaking her head and taking a few hasty steps backward, the little one’s teeth chattered as she whined, “I can’t tell you,” before spinning on her toes and taking off like a flash into the darkness.

  I thought about just turning and going home. For all I knew, this was some elaborate ruse to get me alone and rob me—or worse. But the little voice in my head kept saying, She asked you for help. She said ‘we,’ so there must be more of them. Temperatures are going to drop below freezing by morning. If the little girl was part of a trap, I would already know, wouldn’t I?

  “All right, all right,” I mumbled to myself. “Why am I always the one with the conscience?”

  Following the echo of the girl’s footsteps, I ended up jogging to the end of the street and into one of the many derelict buildings that made up what used to be the Garment District before the designers all moved to the posh Dallas Galleria area. Shadows from the streetlights made grotesque shapes on the cracked concrete floor as they shined through the broken windows and holes in the roof.

  Whispers and murmurs echoed on the cool winds that seemed to invade the crevices between the crumbling brick. I immediately recognized the little girl as she cried, “I tried. I really tried, but I got scared. I heard the rumble of the Runner’s car and that squeak it makes as the back of it goes up and down and got scared.” Her last words were muddled as she sobbed, “I’m so sorry. Is he gonna…gonna…die?”

  No longer thinking of my own well-being but that of the person the girl feared was dying, I raced forward. The soft soles of my work shoes were silent, making my approach unheard as I threw back the tattered blanket hanging from one of the many lofts throughout the factory and stopped dead in my tracks. There were gasps and screams of all timbre, along with my own screech of, “Oh crap!” as I nearly fell over a group of children kneeling around another, who in the light of an old cracked flashlight, looked grey.

  Immediately spotting the girl I’d been following, I looked her in the eye and over the commotion demanded, “What is all this?”

  Silence instantly ensued as all the children’s eyes got big, they looked at one another, and then to the one who appeared to be the oldest, who’d thrown herself over the boy who remained unmoving on the ground. Not a one of them moved…I’m not even sure they were breathing. Taking a deep breath and a precarious step forward, I knelt next to the prone child and slowly reached for his wrist.

  The girl protecting him gave me a narrowed glare but didn’t move. She also didn’t try to stop me from taking his pulse, which was sluggish and staggered. Looking into her haunted eyes, I asked, “Can I listen to his chest?” while reaching into my old leather satchel for my stethoscope.

  For several tense seconds I wasn’t sure if she was going to move or attack, but then the squeaky little voice that had started all of this reasoned, “Let her help, Amanda. I did what you said and got her here. At least let her look at Josh.” Once again, her big blue eyes were looking up at me. “Maybe she can help.”

  “Shut up, Cassie. He’s my brother,” Amanda hissed as she continued to stare at me like I was the devil incarnate.

  “But…” Cassie, the girl who’d lured me there, stammered.

  “But nothing. It’s Amanda’s decision. She’s been taking care of us for this long,” a tall, lanky boy at the back piped up.

  “Shut up, Charlie! You were too scared to go yourself,” Cassie countered, which started a free-for-all that ended with Amanda screaming, “Shut up!”

  All eyes were on me as Amanda cautiously moved just enough so I could carefully shift the ragged blanket and Josh’s tattered clothes far enough to get the chestpiece of my stethoscope onto his skin. Doing a quick assessment as I listened to his stuttering heartbeat, wheezing chest, and rattling lungs, I knew right away that the child had advanced pneumonia and needed to be in the ICU.

  Sitting back on my knees, I reached to close his jacket and that was when the reality of these children’s situation came to light. There, on Josh’s neck were a multitude of double puncture marks…vampire bites. Looking up at Amanda, I pointed, “How long has that been going on?”

  Not waiting for her to answer, I threw back his cover and shoved up each of his sleeves. The poor child’s arms were covered with varying degrees of healing and scarred bite marks. No one was answering my question, but it was obvious it had been going on for a long time.

  Glancing back at the children, I saw they had all buttoned up their coats and some had even wrapped dirty, knitted scarves around their necks. Most had their arms crossed over their chests and they all sported looks that ranged from guilt to outright mortification.

  It all started to make sense. Eight children hidden away in the darkness, hiding, afraid of the oncoming cars, all malnourished and ill but afraid to seek even the help of one of the many churches or shelters. I had a choice to make. I could walk away, forget what I saw, and live my life in ignorant bliss. But…wait…it was too late for that. I couldn’t turn back time. I couldn’t forget and I couldn’t just leave them to die, or worse, be turned into one the very monsters who were abusing them.

  Looking into Amanda’s eyes, I used all the bedside manner I could muster as I strongly recommended, “We need to get him to the hospital. Josh has pneu—”

  “—No!” she screamed, throwing herself back over her brother and commanding, “Get her out of here! Now! Make her go!”

  The child stood frozen, looking at their leader and then back to me, afraid to move, not completely sure what was going on. Leaning forward, I reached for Amanda’s arm. “Josh has pneumonia. He has to be in a hospital where he can receive antibiotics, oxygen, pain medication, and most of all, be out of the cold.”

  The tips of my fingers had just contacted her arm when Amanda pulled back as if I’d burnt her, tugged her brother’s still unconscious body into her lap, and hissed, “Go away.” She glared at me. “Just go away if you won’t help.”

  Our Mexican standoff lasted for about two full minutes, during which I tried to think of any way short of grabbing Josh from his sister’s arms and running that I could get the child to the hospital. Finally, a tall boy stepped forward from the shadows, laid his hand on Amanda’s shoulder, and solemnly said, “Katharine…that is your name, isn’t it? Katharine Worthy?”

  I nodded, not sure how he knew my name but wanting to hear what he had to say as he continued, “My name is Anthony. Myself, along with all you see here,” he motioned to the other seven children, “have nowhere to go. We did what we had to do to survive. Yes, it involved selling drugs for people we didn’t know were vampires until it was too late. We also became their main source of food. For this reason and othe
rs, we cannot go to the hospital or a church or a shelter or any other safe haven, because if we do, we go right back into the foster care system that already failed us which, by the way, is how those vampires found us. They paid our foster parents for us. So, if we go anywhere…” he looked at all the faces staring back at him before meeting my eyes and adding, “they kill us.”

  Cassie came to me, wrapped her freezing little hand around mine, and with tears in her eyes, pleaded, “Please, Miss Katharine. Please help us.”

  The next few weeks was a blur. Between working my usual sixty hours a week, I had relocated the kids to a pay by the week flop of a motel and drained my bank account buying medical supplies, food, and clean clothes for all my new wards; the number of which had now grown to fifteen.

  The good news was Josh was actually sitting up and eating broth and the others seemed to be feeling better as well. Of course, as well as things were going, I should’ve expected the other shoe to drop.

  Arriving at almost daybreak, I barely made it to the front door of my apartment without falling asleep and was slipping the key into the lock when I felt something sharp push into my back and a low, growling whisper warned, “Give us back the kids or die.”

  Unable to move, I stammered, “W-w-what?” But my attacker was already gone. After that I moved the children every few days, which kept them safe, and for a while, I thought things were looking up.

  Then an outbreak of H1N1 influenza hit the Metroplex. The hospital was overrun and on my next trip to see the kids, I found three of them already sick and most of the others exhibiting signs of infection. I knew they had to have antibiotics. I tried to follow the proper channels to get the medicine the kids needed but at this point, the threatening letters were not only coming to my home, but also my job. There was no way I could bring even one of them in for an examination and no doctor I’d gone to would prescribe meds for me.