Embrace the Heat Read online

  Embrace the Heat

  By Cassandra Lawson

  Copyright ©2014 Cassandra Lawson

  Smashwords Edition

  Cover image © Maryia Bahutskaya - Fotolia.com

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by federal law enforcement agencies and is punishable by up to five years in prison and a fine of $250,000

  Also by Cassandra Lawson

  Psy Vamp Series

  Vampires and Vixens (Book 1)

  Safe Hex With a Vampire (Book 2)

  Vampires Prefer Blondes (Book 3)

  Moon Virus Series

  Raven’s Blood (Book 1)

  Acknowledgments

  As always I am awed and humbled by the support of my readers. Thank you all for taking a chance on my writing. A special thanks to my aunts, Donna Lee and Edna for their kind words and encouragement.

  I am also grateful to my fabulous beta readers, Kari, Levenia, Melissa, Ria and Trista. They are always here to help me work out the bugs in my final draft.

  While I design my own covers, I could not do that without the help of my cover design and critique team, Daniel, Josh, Kari, and Levenia.

  Finally, I want to thank everyone who takes the time to write a review for one of my books. I know we all get busy, and I really appreciate the time you take to tell others what you think of my writing.

  Prologue

  Trent Whitaker never expected to find himself living in California. A die hard Texan, he’d always looked down on the inhabitants of this liberal hell hole. When his good friend, Charles Graham III moved his main pharmaceutical plant to California, Trent called him every kind of fool.

  Charles was a fool. The man had wanted to kill off most of the poor and had come up with a plan to do just that, but that plan had gone horribly wrong. While Trent agreed that poor people wasted precious resources, he was smart enough to realize the value of having them. Trent liked having people below him on the food chain. Power was better than sex.

  Power was the motivation behind Trent’s little enterprise back in Texas. Bringing in illegal immigrants to sell off to the highest bidder was risky, but the thrill was too irresistible. The whole thing had always been about power, not money. Forcing mothers to act like whores to save their children got him off like nothing else. He’d recently started selling men and found it to be quite lucrative. Many people wanted to feed their fetishes without having others find out. They’d also liked the idea of being able to punish their property for tempting them to sin. Yes, it had been a shame to lose that business.

  Now, he stood to gain even more power. Better yet, the government would fund this venture, and nothing he was going to do was illegal. It was the perfect set up.

  Sitting across from him, in his new home was his long time friend, Charles Graham III.

  Trent shook his head. “I still can’t believe you turned people into vampires,” he said with a chuckle. “Who would have believed that was even possible? I won’t lie; I was pissing my pants when this all started. Not just about the vampires runnin’ around. I had to close up my side business when they shut down the borders. You caused me no end of trouble, my friend. Demand actually increased as a result of your mistake, leaving me with orders I couldn’t fill. Seems men get real horny when they think they might be killed by vampires.”

  “As far as I can see, this situation is working out pretty well for you, Whit,” Charles said with a genial smile.

  “That it is, Charles,” he said and stared out the window at his expansive yard which seemed small compared to the ranch he’d left behind. “Too bad Texas didn’t start reservations for their vampires. I really didn’t want to move out here to California.”

  “What are they doing with the vampires there?” Charles asked.

  “We hunt and kill ‘em.” Trent said. “Don’t matter if they come to us for help or not. We don’t tolerate any dirty bloodsuckers in Texas. I agreed with that until I heard what y’all had planned in California. Hell, I was even considering setting up a side business to let people hunt the less violent ones in a more controlled environment. I figured it would draw in the tourists when some of the fear died down.”

  “This seems more your style,” Charles said. “I’ve managed to get all of your permits fast tracked. As soon as you have the area set up, they’ll deliver your vampires right to your gates, and you can do whatever you want with them.”

  Trent rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He’d purchased a large chunk of Emeryville for the reservation. That was one of the areas that had been hit hardest, and any survivors had moved elsewhere. It was perfect. Now they were building everything they’d need to run things, and the government was even footing the bill for construction.

  “I do have one minor problem with the original plans,” Charles said hesitantly.

  Trent took a deep calming breath. Problems, he did not have time for. He of all people knew how fickle the government was. Had the government decided to put restrictions on how he could treat the vampires? Damn Charles for waiting to drop new information on him. “I’ve given up everything for this, so it had better not be anything serious,” he said almost angrily.

  “The mothers have to be allowed to bring their children,” Charles explained calmly. “We argued that all vampire children be sent off for experiments, but the liberals fought it. Stupid vampire rights activists tried to impose restrictions on how the vampires could be used at the reservations. The children with no one to care for them can be taken for experiments, but the ones with a guardian of some sort are to be shipped to the reservation with their parents, and blood must be provided for them.”

  Trent couldn’t help but smile at the news. “This isn’t a bad thing. I can always have the parents work extra hard to earn the blood for their little blood brats. This also gives me a fresh supply of vampires. There are likely to be some casualties. I can’t promise that my patrons will treat them with care.” He laughed at the thought. “I imagine they’ll draw quite the following from people who want to be a little on the rough side. Don’t worry; the children won’t be a problem. Hell as soon as they can walk, we can put them to work doing menial labor. Then the adults can spend more time servicing patrons.”

  The movement just outside of the room caught his attention, and he knew it was his son. “Roger,” he called out, “why are you lurking around outside the door?”

  Trent’s son, Roger, and nephew, Miles slowly walked into the room. Both boys were thirteen and could pass for brothers. Sadly, both looked more like his sister than him. They were skinny and unremarkable with brown hair and eyes. Trent’s sister had moved with them to get away from her vampire sympathizer husband. The talk had been wearing off on Miles, and no one wanted that.

  “We were just curious,” Roger said.

  Miles nodded.

  Trent had to admit that he was a little proud of the boys for showing a healthy interest in what was going on. “Don’t you boys worry, when I get things set up, you’ll be allowed to learn all about sex with a skilled blood whore. How would you like that?”

  Roger looked curious. Miles looked apprehensive.

  Charles laughed. “I think I’ll get my son over there for lessons too. He’s a little older than your boys and ready to learn about women.”

  “After I get things started I’ll figure out which of the blood whores are the most skilled and get the boys some lessons,” Trent said. “I’m sure I’ll get a lot of business from fathers wanting their boys to learn how it’s done. Back in Texas, I’d planned to train one of the illegals for Roger. She was going to be a gift for his fourteenth birthday.”

  Charles laughed. “How would you boys like th
at?” he asked Roger and Miles.

  “Do we have to treat them nice, like they’re ladies?” Roger asked.

  “They’re just whores and not even human ones at that,” Trent scoffed. “You can treat them however you want.”

  He was proud of his boy’s almost sinister smile. Someday the boy would take over the reservation, and he’d never feel sorry for those beneath him. He’d do what had to be done to keep the whores in line.

  Miles on the other hand looked sick. “What’s wrong, Miles?”

  “My dad said the vampires are humans with a disease and we should help them,” he said softly.

  Charles laughed. “Don’t tell me you have a budding vampire activist living in your own home, Whit.”

  Trent scowled at his friend and fought the temptation to beat some sense into Miles. Best to wait until they were alone and his temper was under control. “His father is no longer in the picture, and we’re working to repair the damage to Miles.” He turned on Miles with an angry scowl. “They were human. Now, they’re just monsters. We’re doing them a favor, do you understand me?”

  Miles nodded but clearly didn’t understand. Trent knew it was going to take time to make Miles see how wrong his father was, but Trent was willing to work on it. This was his blood, after all, and he would not let him down.

  “I understand your worries,” Charles said to Miles. “What we’re doing here is much more humane than what’s happening in Texas. Sad as it may be, they are no longer human and they could be a danger to everyone. Do you want vampires raping and killing your mother?”

  Miles shook his head wildly.

  “They are very sexual and violent creatures,” Charles explained. “We’re giving them a way to survive and take care of their baser needs.”

  Trent watched as Miles processed what he'd just been told, glad that his own son wasn’t this squeamish. Finally Miles nodded his understanding. Trent made a mental note to use Charles’ explanation later. That was a wonderful way to assuage the fears of some of the people who were still on the fence about the reservations. It wouldn’t work with the idiot activists, but you couldn’t win everyone over.

  Soon he would be living like a god! Yes, this was going to work out very well.

  Chapter One

  Fifteen Years Later

  Simon sat in the dirt behind the wash house and inhaled. He loved the smell of the laundry soap and fabric softener they used. Whenever laundry needed to be done, he volunteered to do it just to have an excuse to breathe in those smells. When he’d been younger and forced to do laundry for the bastard humans, the smell had nearly made him gag.

  Not in a million years would he have believed that he’d miss the days of having laundry duty. Now he imagined those scents masking the filth that constantly covered him. This kind of filth wasn’t visible. This kind of filth didn’t wash off.

  Simon stared down at the sharp rock in his hand. He’d tested the sharpness on his hand earlier, and while the rock didn’t cut through easily, it did break the skin. The jagged cut had sealed and now looked like the beginnings of an ugly pink scar. By tomorrow, the cut would be almost unnoticeable, and in two days it would be gone. The only way to scar would be to keep opening up the wound as it tried to heal. The process was long and painful. His friend, Connor had scars all across his back. That thought made Simon feel guilty about his own self pity. Connor was beaten several times a week. Sometimes the beatings happened more than once a day.

  Simon had never been hit and should be grateful for that. Still, at the age of fifteen, he was at the end of his rope. Whenever he and his friends found a spare moment, they trained and planned a rebellion. They made and stole weapons. Every day, they had a few moments to dream of freedom. Then Simon went back to reality and doubted the misery would ever end.

  The scar wouldn’t save him from being used. No, it would just be trading one misery for another. Maybe it would be worth it though. If he was lucky, he might be able to stop hating himself as much as he hated the humans.

  His face was a curse. The humans called his hair golden and said he looked like an angel. One woman had told him that he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was taller than many of the humans and already possessed a lean muscular frame. The humans saw a pretty toy. Simon was nothing more than a toy to be used and discarded. The humans wanted to use his body and didn’t care about him or what he felt. Of course that wasn’t the worst of what he did.

  Simon brought the rock up to the side of his face and closed his eyes. His hand shook ever so slightly as the sharp point of the rock came in contact with his cheek. Coward that he was, nothing happened. The rock dropped to the ground, and he drew his knees up to his chest. Others passed, but no one stopped. No one formed attachments outside of their own home because attachments were a dangerous thing. If you cared about people, they could be used against you. He’d never had to hurt anyone he cared about, but it was only a matter of time before that happened.

  When Simon heard the approaching footsteps stop in front of him, he refused to look up. He just hoped it wasn’t Connor. Con was like a brother to him, but he always wanted to talk about things. Simon didn’t want to talk about what he did with his clients, especially one in particular. He wanted to pretend things didn’t happen.

  “I considered scarring your face many years ago,” Eloise said. He loved Eloise like a mother, and she’d pretty much raised him. In truth, she was Connor’s mother, but she’d taken him in when no one else would. Eloise had whored herself to keep him fed when he’d been too young to whore himself. She also understood some of what he went through. She didn’t know it all. He was far too ashamed to let her know all of it. Still, she knew what it felt like to be the obsession of human scum.

  Eloise was lovely, with a delicate bone structure and silky brown hair. Her eyes were the deepest blue he’d ever seen. Men had offered to buy her outright, but the owner of the reservation would never let that happen. She made far too much money for him.

  “Why didn’t you scar my face?” he finally asked. “It might have been the kindest thing to do.”

  “It would have made things worse,” she explained and then sat beside him and inhaled. “I love the smell of clean laundry. I never appreciated it when I was human.”

  Simon smiled at her. He loved it when they shared something good. “How could it have been worse? If I’m ugly, the humans won’t want me.”

  “You could never be ugly, Simon,” she said gently. “You would still attract attention. With the scars, I was afraid that you’d attract the sadists. They already request you, but your looks are too valuable to risk having any damage done to you.”

  He just nodded because she was probably right. There was no escaping the horrors he faced each day. The most he could do was trade it for a different horror. “You didn’t come looking for me because you wanted to talk, did you?”

  He looked up, and her sad smile said it all. “There’s a request for you,” she said softly.

  Simon hated seeing the sadness in Eloise’s eyes. This was harder for her than it was for him in many ways. She’d done her best to protect him since the day she’d found him wandering around the reservation crying. He’d been three at the time, but he remembered that day. His mom had come home from a client with blood gushing from a gash on her forehead. He’d known it was a bad injury. She’d held him in her arms as she sang to him, and then he’d felt the stillness. She’d looked so peaceful and beautiful, even with the blood matted in her blonde hair. Everyone said he looked like her. Her name had been Cora, but the bastard humans had called her Angel.

  Eloise took him in and he wasn’t the only one. Eloise cared for six children. Only one of those children was her own. Simon loved her and wished he could find a way to protect her.

  “Don’t be sad,” he said. “They don’t hurt me.”

  “Just because they don’t beat you, doesn’t mean they don’t hurt you,” she said.

  What could he say? Nothing, so h
e just walked away. He walked past the rundown little shacks the vampires lived in. He walked into the section of the reservation with the fountains and beautifully manicured lawns. Surrounding him were cute little cottages. Each one was lavishly furnished and comfortably warm. Without a word, a guard grabbed his arm and led him to the VIP section. Simon’s stomach knotted with dread. He only had one client who met with him in this area. That client was the owner of this hell hole’s son. This was the thing that made him want to scar his own face.

  The human didn’t look evil on the surface. In truth, he was very plain, thin with brown hair and brown eyes. His features were unremarkable, and he was a couple of inches shorter than Simon.

  When Simon entered the room, the human greeted him with a bright smile. “Simon,” he murmured and spread his arms wide.

  Simon forced himself to move forward into the bastard’s embrace. The human hugged him and stroked his hair. “My beautiful Simon. Have you missed me?”

  “Yes,” Simon said numbly just the way he’d been trained. It had been over a month since the last time and he’d hoped never to see this human again. He’d hoped never to relive this nightmare. Even knowing it was wrong, he’d hoped the human had found another favorite. No one made him hate himself more than the human standing before him.

  “Look what I brought you today,” the human said and gestured to the female vampire kneeling naked on the floor. Her head bowed, she didn’t look up at them. “Isn’t she pretty?” he asked.

  Simon nodded and wondered if he’d end up being sick to his stomach. This was the worst kind of torture for him. This was the stuff he could never tell anyone about. “Please don’t make me do this,” he said. It was the first time he’d ever said the words out loud. This had been his nightmare for well over two years, but he’d never had the courage to say those words before.