A Game of Vampires Read online

  A GAME OF VAMPIRES

  A VAMPIRE GAMES PREQUEL NOVELLA

  CAROLINE PECKHAM

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  PROLOGUE

  JONAH

  EVANGELINE

  JONAH

  JONAH

  JONAH

  EVANGELINE

  JONAH

  EPILOGUE: | EVANGELINE

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  THE VAMPIRE GAMES NOVELLAS

  THE VAMPIRE GAMES: SEASON 1

  THE VAMPIRE GAMES: SEASON 2

  THE RISE OF ISAAC SERIES

  THE RISE OF ISAAC NOVELLAS

  AUTHOR BIO

  SOCIAL LINKS

  PROLOGUE

  A sharp wind rolled over us and the candle went out.

  The smell of smoke from the burnt wick ran over me, followed by something rancid, like rotting flesh. I wrinkled my nose, feeling Jonah press me back.

  “Jonah, the light,” I begged and heard him fumbling for the matches.

  One strike. Two.

  On the third, the space was illuminated in a bright flash. A bony face was lit up before me, as white as chalk, as thin as a waif.

  The match went out.

  I screamed, slashing outwards with my stake.

  Vampire.

  I recalled the words Jonah had spoken to me once just before our first kiss. All those days ago.

  “I love you from the sea to the stars, Evangeline.”

  JONAH

  A fist swung at me from the left, clocking my ribs. I'd let him get the shot. It brought me close enough to throw a punch to his abdomen. One then two. My opponent cried out, stumbling back. Greaser, they called him, due to the way he slicked his black hair back with oil. I kept mine short for fights. No need to give my opponents more of me to grab onto.

  The crowd was pressing in, barely illuminated by the gas lanterns surrounding us on the cobbled street. The coal-grey sky was bleeding sunlight by the second. The moment the sun set, it was over. Simple rules. Whoever was still standing by sundown would be the winner of five shillings. More than my monthly pay.

  The only problem was, as the sun abandoned us, we were both still standing. Bloody, bruised, shirtless. My skin was crusty from the blood drying on me. My breathing was ragged. At least my face would be fine for work the next day. We didn't throw punches above the neck. But anything below the collar bone was fair game. Speaking of which...

  I slammed a hard kick between my opponent's legs. It wasn't exactly foul play, just more of a gentleman's honour thing. For five shillings, I had sold my honour and potentially his ability to have children. My opponent crashed to the floor, groaning and cupping his manhood.

  The crowd booed, but the referee, Billy Woodside, lifted my hand into the air, declaring me the victor.

  He tugged me closer, speaking through his teeth. “That was a shitty move, Jonah.”

  “I never said it wasn't,” I replied under my breath.

  The women in the crowd seemed more impressed with me than the men. But then they had no idea what it was like to be kicked in the gonads.

  Greaser was pulled to his feet by his pals and one of them spat at me. It didn't sully my mood. I was used to being disliked. I didn't have many friends. And those I could call friends weren't the type of men most other people associated with. I was a loner by choice. Some would call me a trickster, others a con artist. A few used more colourful words when referring to me. Frankly, my motive was never to make friends. It was to make money. Friends couldn't pay for the roof over your head. Friends wouldn't buy you a boat and sail you to...well, anywhere but London.

  That was why I'd been preparing my biggest con yet. I'd been working for Lord Belmont for months now. And one day soon, I was going to run off into the sunset with all his money. I just had to figure out how to get access to it first. He had a safe the size of England. One he took with him when he went abroad. He barely let it out of his sight. So whatever was in that metal cube was seriously valuable. Like buying my freedom valuable. And it was mine. I just hadn't figured out how to get my hands on it yet.

  My eyes locked on a girl in the crowd, being wooed by the men around her. A peony shawl hung around her shoulders. Her dress was as black as soot, her skin olive and dewy, her hair a sea of golden waves.

  Some moments shake you awake in life. That was my moment. I felt Billy nudging me, trying to make me move. I heard Greaser's friends hurling insults me. I didn't believe in love at first sight. And I guess I didn't love her. But a part of me wanted to. A strange creature had risen its head inside me, and all it could see was her.

  “Evangeline!” a woman crowed from amongst the crowd. She appeared beside the golden-haired beauty, grabbing her wrist and dragging her away. “You're not supposed to be out here. Your mother is searching everywhere for you.”

  I wandered toward them, pushing my sweaty hair back. Perhaps I wasn't in the best shape to approach her...

  Someone chucked me my shirt and I dragged it on. When I looked up, she was gone. I snatched my five shillings from Billy, swearing as I pressed into the crowd in the direction she must have taken. Someone elbowed me hard in the spine. But I didn't care. Just kept moving in the direction that God-sent angel had taken.

  I spotted her up ahead and quickened my pace. She cast a glance over her shoulder and smiled to herself as she eyed me. I grinned, following her down the darkening streets until she entered a building with a red door. A brothel.

  My brows drew together as I hurried after her. She was a prostitute. That was just my luck. I tended to be the jealous type when it came to women.

  Inside, the air was heavy with smoke and sweet perfume. It barely covered the smell of sweat and other bodily secretions and I had to fight the urge to raise a hand to my nose.

  A fire roared on one side of the room, illuminating the space in an ambient glow. Men were sat on armchairs and sofas around the room with scantily-dressed women draped over them. Not my sort of scene. But today it would be.

  I hounded after the girl I'd followed, but froze in my tracks as I spotted Belmont at the bar.

  I stepped back. I knew he frequented places like this. No doubt, the man couldn't get a woman to bed him unless he paid her. Probably on account of the stinking gout in his right leg. Not to mention his fat gut and the sickly scent of posies he used to tried and hide the smell of his festering leg.

  His eyes fell on the girl I'd followed and he smiled, moving toward her, using his cane to steady himself. “Ah, Evangeline,” he purred.

  Evangeline. The name was like heaven's bells chiming in my head.

  She dipped her head in acknowledgement.

  “She's still too young,” snapped the woman beside her.

  I could see that, too. Another reason it surprised me that she lived here. Evangeline cast another glance over her shoulder at me. I was rooted to the spot, but if Belmont saw me here, I was going to be in trouble. I was supposed to be on duty.

  “I'd pay a fine price,” Belmont said, taking a bag of coins from his pocket.

  My gut churned and rage grew inside me. I shouldn't have felt possessive of a woman I didn't know. But then again, I'd probably have pitied any woman of having to bed Belmont.

  “No,” the older woman barked, pushing Evangeline in the direction of the staircase. “Go upstairs,” she hissed and Evangeline nodded quickly, hurrying away.

  At that very moment, Belmont's eyes turned to me. His gaze narrowed then he turned casually away, returning to his seat to pester some other unfortunate woman.

  I raised my brows in surprise. Perhaps he didn't care I was here after all. Or maybe he hadn't recognised me on ac
count of the blood and muck caking my body.

  “Hey you.”

  I turned at the voice, spying Evangeline on the stairs, gesturing for me to come closer. I threw a cursory glance at Belmont before hurrying to meet her. I paused on the stair beneath hers, out of sight of the bar.

  “Congratulations on your fight,” she said, smiling. My heart danced in my chest. It was the most beautiful smile in the world.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “Can I buy you a drink?” I lifted a brow. I'd always been good with women, but this one choked my voice box, not allowing my usual confidence to show.

  “I have to go to my room,” she said on a sigh. Then a mischievous glint shone in her eyes. “But I have a bottle of gin under my bed.”

  She took my hand and it was as soft as a baby's. I nodded, my throat tightening once more. She led me upstairs, the sound of moans and laughter carrying to us beyond the row of doors. At the far end of the corridor, she guided me into her room.

  It was a simple space, with a single bed and pale curtains on the window, but one wall was adorned with a mural of the sea, reaching up to a sky of stars.

  “I'm Jonah,” I said, brushing my shirt down. I hoped I didn't look too much like a street dog. But some women liked that look. Perhaps she was one of them. If God had any mercy on me, she would be.

  “Evangeline,” she said, and the name sounded even more beautiful on her lips.

  “Are we breaking any rules, Evangeline?” I asked, tasting her name in my own mouth.

  “Yes,” she said, smiling again.

  Ah, that smile.

  She took the bottle of gin from beneath her bed, sitting down and plucking the cork out of the top. “Let's break some more, shall we?”

  EVANGELINE

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  Jonah was going to kill me. I'd promised him I wouldn't walk the streets alone at night anymore. The fog in London was like a blanket tonight, shimmering with the greenish glow of the gas lanterns. I was enveloped by darkness when I took a shortcut through an alley.

  I had to see him. My love. My heart. I could have remained safe at home. If you could call it safe. The brothel was not somewhere I ever felt safe. Out in these icy alleys, I was at least free from the men's stares. My mother would not be pleased. She was the mistress of the brothel, and she always looked out for me. Kept me from losing my innocence. I'd not yet turned sixteen. But we both knew I was running out of time. No matter how many clothes I wore, how many hours I remained hidden, eyes eventually sought me out.

  Jonah was saving every penny he got from his job as a Lord's servant. Working for a man who had spent more nights in my brothel than I could count. A man whose eyes had found me more than once. But mother always refused his offers, no matter how high the price. She wanted a better life for me. She dreamed of us running away together. But she only spoke of it under the influence of gin. I knew she didn't really believe we could run. What would two women do on their own in the world? How would we get by?

  My innocence would provide her a huge price. And I'd once considered offering it up to pay us the money we needed to run. She'd hushed those thoughts quickly, her sparkling blue eyes promising me she'd find another way. But she hadn't. Not yet. And now I'd fallen for Lord Belmont's servant boy. We'd spend hours talking whilst Belmont drank and lay with women. Jonah was not like any other man I had met before. He was kind, thoughtful. He had brought me roses once and when they had wilted, I'd dried them out and pressed them in my journal. Our secret pressed between the pages.

  I hurried to him now, gathering up my heavy skirt to free my feet. I'd seen him every night this week. We spent hours talking. Just talking. I preferred seeing him outside of the brothel, despite his protests.

  Last night he had stolen his first kiss. One I had given eagerly. One that had defied all laws of what kisses should have been capable of. I had not known a kiss could be felt in every part of one's body. And I wanted more. I craved more. So now, I ran to him in the dead of night, knowing I would have to sneak onto the grounds of Lord Belmont's manor and slip through the servants' quarters to find my way to him.

  I cut down an alley. Though I was swallowed by darkness, I could just make out the dim green glow of a lantern at the far end. Perhaps a hundred yards or so.

  Heavy footsteps sounded behind me and I quickened my pace, gathering my shawl tighter around my shoulders. It was peony silk. The finest thing I owned. It had been a gift from my mother. It still smelt of her, like peppermint and smoke.

  A shadow passed across the wall beside me. A fox perhaps? It was too dark to tell.

  I would not have felt so skittish had the footsteps not sounded closer behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, spotting a figure obscured by the mist. A man, I was sure. He was tall and broad-shouldered, that much I could make out. For a moment I feared I had been followed from the brothel by one of my admirers.

  I hurried onward, fixing my gaze on the light ahead.

  My heart beat quickened like a galloping horse in my chest.

  Not far now, Evangeline. Your Jonah is waiting.

  A rush of air signalled movement behind me. A hand caught hold of my dress and I gasped, trying to pull away. His grip was firm, unrelenting. He turned me around and I met his icy gaze. Fear trickled through me like rushing water. I trembled beneath the immense man. His eyes were darkest green, his hair long and black, hanging to his shoulders. He was beautiful in a way that took me by surprise. And when he spoke, a feeling of peace doused my fears like a snuffed-out candle.

  “Calm,” he said and I nodded, feeling lucid as if I were in some trance. “What is your name?”

  “Evangeline,” the name left my lips easily. Whatever this man wanted, I knew I would give it to him. But I didn't know why. He held me gently now, his hands resting on my shoulders. I was a moth before a flame.

  “You will come with me, Evangeline,” he growled, his voice deep and alluring.

  I nodded, feeling no resistance to that fact. But a small voice inside me screamed Jonah's name. This was not right, and yet I felt that it was my choice. That I would willingly go wherever this man wished to take me.

  He took my hand, guiding me back in the direction I had come. Beyond the alley, a black carriage awaited us. The driver barely glanced at me, but I drank him in. He was young, barely eighteen at a guess. And his hair was fairest blonde. As my escort opened the door, my eyes fell upon two other girls, their eyes glazed. They seemed as docile as me. As if they too were under this strange man's charm.

  The man guided me inside, remaining beyond it a moment as he spoke to the driver. “Three from London, as requested, Ignus. Now give me my payment.”

  “You will wait until we are at sea,” Ignus, replied.

  “If you will have me ride with them, I shall not be able to resist. Especially that last one...” My captor glanced into the carriage, his eyes roaming from my face to my neck.

  Still, I felt no fear, though I was certain I should have.

  Oh Jonah, what is happening? I have two desires carved inside me now. One to be with you, and the other to do anything this man says.

  “She is quite the beauty,” Ignus replied. “Especially with those golden curls. I believe she will make us good money. So if you drink from her, Varick, I will ask my father's permission to punish you.”

  My captor, Varick, made a low growl in his throat. “Your father will be most displeased to hear you kept me hungry at the risk of hurting his contestants.”

  Contestants?

  A tense pause passed between them then Varick caught a small bottle as Ignus threw it to him. He didn't utter another word, climbing into the carriage and slamming the door. The candle inside the carriage illuminated the red liquid inside the bottle. As he uncorked it, a metallic smell filled my nose.

  He drank it down, his eyes wild as he did so. He shut them momentarily as a sigh of relief passed his lips. A line of red dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

  Is that blood?

 
But surely not. What monster was this man? And why did I not feel the terror that should have gripped my soul at the sight?

  Ignus shouted, “Yah!” and the stallion pulling us took off. We rocked and swayed, my shoulder bumping Varick's as we moved.

  The other girls gazed at him, their eyes glassy. Both were true beauties, but neither were dressed too well. They had a look of the poor about them, thin and pale. Something in their faces told me they were related. Both had dark hair and full lips. Maids, I guessed.

  “Where are we going?” I managed to say the words, despite the dream-like feeling sweeping through my body.

  Varick did not look at me, his gaze turning to the candle as if he wished to avoid my eye. “To your graves, most likely.”

  JONAH

  “Bags,” Lord Belmont demanded.

  I'd been so distracted by the view of the colossal castle high up on the cliff, that I'd forgotten my duty. The frozen air clung to my bones. Perhaps I wouldn't have felt the chill if I'd been as well-dressed as Belmont in his moleskin...

  I hurried back onto the boat where the rest of the servants rolled their eyes at me. They had never taken to me well. Bastard son of a bankrupt lawyer. But that was not the reason they despised me. It was my dreams of grandeur and wealth the provoked them. I saw myself growing as rich as Lord Belmont one day. Richer perhaps.

  “Remember your place, boy,” one of the cooks said, her eyes fierce. Mrs Redford had the look of an old crow with her feathery black hair and pointed nose. She made it her personal mission to make my life as miserable as possible. “And don't cause trouble on this island. Or Lord Belmont will have you fed to a Vampire.”

  Vampires. I clucked my tongue at that. Such a thing was nonsense. Lord Belmont was somewhat obsessed with dark, mystical creatures. He had a fondness for the strange. Which had somewhat drawn me to his employment initially. That and the enormous wealth he was blessed with. But he had no time for his house staff. We were to be seen and not heard. And I'd spent my younger days running my mouth, bartering and selling potions for an old alchemist. Being quiet wasn't my forte. Since the alchemist's death, I'd lost my passion for the trade, turning to cons instead. He had been one of the few people in my life to encourage my ideas of greatness.