Shadow of Thorns (Midnight's Crown Book 2)

  Shadow of Thorns

  Midnight’s Crown Book 2

  By Ripley Proserpina

  Dedicated to:

  Iceman- sorry you had to wait so long for me to write a vampire book, and I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out a way to add a Navy SEAL.

  Shadow of Thorns

  Midnight’s Crown Book 2

  Copyright 2018 by Ripley Proserpina

  Copyright 2018, Ripley Proserpina

  First electronic publication: February 2018

  Ripley Proserpina

  www.ripleyproserpina.com

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  Published in the United States of America

  Prologue

  A cool breeze raised the fine hairs on Briar’s skin. The sky was a cloudless blue, but the sun didn’t burn. In fact, it didn’t touch her skin from where she was held, caught tightly in strong arms.

  “What’s your favorite part of our story?” The voice came like a whisper, and she shivered. “Don’t answer,” it went on. “Let me tell you mine. I saw you, far across the room in your huge hat and white gloves and thought, what a strange girl. I was distracted by the lecture, but my gaze kept going to you. On the edge of your seat, peeling the gloves from your delicate hands.” There was a chuckle, and the voice breezed into her ear. “Imagine if I’d smelled you then! It would have been a blood bath.”

  A sigh ruffled her hair, blowing it across her face and tickling her nose, but Briar couldn’t muster the energy to lift her arm and brush it away. The world was silent for a while.

  “A world without you, Briar.” The hand petting her hair, cheek, and neck paused. “I can’t stand to think about it.” Dark eyes met hers, and she shut her eyes. “No. Briar. No. Open your eyes and look at me while I tell you this.”

  If only she could shut her ears the way she could shut her eyes.

  “Open your eyes, Briar.” The voice cajoled her, and like everything in this world, she was at the mercy of its maker. Slowly, despite her effort to keep them closed, they opened, and she met Asher’s amused grin. “There you are, sweet girl.” His thin nostrils flared as he breathed her in. “Each day, your scent becomes more delicious. I can hardly wait for the night to meet you here.”

  She wanted to speak, but Asher didn’t always like what she had to say, so he kept her silent. Now, however, he lifted one dark, perfectly formed eyebrow, and her throat opened up. “I hate you.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “You’re ruining a beautiful moment.”

  “I hate you,” she said again, her voice rising above the breeze that suddenly picked up. Asher’s dark hair, usually straight as a pin, blew around his head, and his eyes went from brown to black.

  “It doesn’t matter what you think of me, Briar. It only matters that I think of you, remember? It’s my thoughts that bring us here after your eyes close and you drift into sleep. Even now, do you know where you are?” Asher leaned forward, and his fangs, sharp and white, cut into his lower lip, distorting his voice. “Tucked in tight. Marcus is reading Kant while you dream away. He has no idea you’re with me, held in my arms, feeding my hunger. Sylvain and Valen are downstairs. They’re playing chess, and Sylvain is losing because he isn’t thinking about the moves he makes. And Hudson? Hudson couldn’t even be bothered to come home tonight. He’s still in his lab, eyes glued to a computer. You aren’t a passing thought in their minds.”

  The breeze stopped, the rush of air gone and the world silent. The sky turned black. Asher pushed her away from his chest to flop onto the settee where he’d been holding her. “The moment has passed, Briar, but there will be more. Remember that. No. Actually. Don’t.”

  Briar couldn’t wipe away the tears escaping her eyes. This was the worst part—the knowing. In a moment, she’d forget everything about this place. The only thing she’d keep was a feeling of dread that increased as the day grew to a close. But right now, she knew exactly what happened when she fell asleep every night.

  She knew Asher was waiting for her here, in this in between place, to hurt her, and she knew she was helpless to stop him.

  Chapter One

  Briar

  Briar opened her eyes to a dark, quiet room. Outside, cars rumbled by the house where she lived in Boston’s Back Bay with four vampires.

  Her vampires.

  “Morning.” Marcus’s voice always sounded like he was smiling. Briar couldn’t help smiling in return. She struggled to sit up from the mattress, a deep-feathered monstrosity that was ridiculously comfortable. Yawning hugely, she squinted into the darkness to make him out. She found him in an overstuffed chair, a book dangling from his long, graceful fingers.

  “Morning,” she said in reply. “What are you reading?” She yawned again, her head feeling thick and full, like she was still half-asleep.

  Marcus didn’t answer but stood, crossing the room to her. Once at the bed, he sat, reaching for her face. “You look pale this morning.”

  “I’m always pale,” she joked, pushing back the covers.

  His gaze dropped to her pajama clad chest reflexively, and he grinned. “Nice jammies.”

  Briar glanced down at the t-shirt she’d worn. It was one of Sylvain’s and smelled like him. Lifting the collar to her nose, she breathed in before she let it fall. The neck was stretched from her tossing and turning and fell off one shoulder.

  This was one of those mornings when getting up in the dark would be hard, she could tell already.

  Briar’s condition, erythropoietic protoporphyria, caused her skin to burn and blister from just a touch of an ultraviolet ray. As a result, until she was in her UV blocking clothes, all of the curtains in the house had to be drawn.

  Recently, however, she’d found out she didn’t actually have EPP, but vampirism.

  Yup. She was a vampire, sort of.

  Back in early September, Hudson, one of her vampire—even now her mind sort of stuttered and squealed when she thought about it—boyfriends, discovered a mutation on Briar’s chromosome. What the doctors had diagnosed as a syndrome? Well, it wasn’t.

  She had a genetic mutation similar to vampirism, but without any of the cool things that went along with it, like super speed, or super hearing, or super long life, or super healing.

  Briar corrected the path her thoughts had taken. It wasn’t all bad. At least she didn’t have to drink blood to survive. And so she was allergic to the sun. She could deal with that.

  She was dealing with it, and quite well, too. Here she was, in Boston, attending graduate school. Every day, she got up and attended Boston College. After her classes, she snuck down to Professor Hotson, no, Hudson Nors’s lab and helped him with his research.

  Life was really good right now.

  And if she was exhausted after a full night of sleep, that was normal. She was a graduate student with a thousand things on her mind, not the least
of which were four supernaturally handsome vampires who left her heart twitterpated.

  “Kant,” Marcus said suddenly, yanking her out of her thoughts. “I was reading Kant.”

  “Eighteenth-century moral philosophy,” Briar observed. “Were you trying to put yourself to sleep?”

  The easy-going smile left Marcus’s countenance. His gaze went to her bare shoulder and then back to her face. “I was watching you sleep, thinking about how beautiful you are, and suddenly I thought, Kant!”

  Her cheeks heated, and she covered them with her palms.

  “And so I found my copy of Observations on the Feeling of the Beautiful and Sublime,” Marcus continued. “It seemed fitting.”

  Briar swayed toward him, but he leaned away from her, his eyes hardening. “Marcus,” she whispered, “I won’t break.”

  His movements were swift and jerky. A quick kiss on her forehead, and then he was off the bed, moving toward the door. “I’ll see you downstairs. You have class at what, ten today?”

  Nodding, she watched him back away. He kept his back toward the door, like she’d attack him if he turned around. “Yes.”

  “Great. Get dressed. I’ll get breakfast.”

  “Okay,” she answered quietly. “Thank you.”

  His figure blurred as he rushed out the door, but he managed to close it softly. Alone in the dark room, Briar sighed. All of them—Marcus, Sylvain, Valen, and Hudson—had started to treat her like she was made of glass.

  They moved slowly, deliberately, like they were trying to broadcast their intentions before carrying out an action. All of their touches were gentle.

  Gentle forehead kisses. Gentle hugs. Gentle hand holding.

  They were afraid.

  A few weeks before, their maker had reappeared in their lives after having been absent for four hundred years. One of the oldest vampires in existence, Asher was powerful.

  And he’d used that power to control her guys and make them attack her. They’d managed to shake themselves loose of his control, but the experience had traumatized them.

  Yes. That was the right word. Traumatized. Briar walked to the bathroom, scooping the pile of clothes she’d laid out the night before.

  Ever since Asher had made them attack her, they’d kept her at arm’s length.

  Flipping the light on in the bathroom, Briar examined her reflection and sighed. The injury she’d sustained on her neck was healing. She pulled off the bandage she kept over it and stood on her tiptoes to peer closer.

  After this particularly bad burn, she’d had to have a skin graft on her neck. It was still red, but at least the stitches were gone. She touched her fingers to the puffy skin. It was getting better.

  I wish I could say the same about the bags under my eyes. A major injury and graduate school? That had to account for her exhaustion and pallor. Dismissing her reflection, Briar grabbed her toothbrush and went about her morning routine. In a matter of minutes, she was dressed and ready for her day.

  On her way out of the room, she grabbed her hat and gloves. She’d have breakfast with her guys, and then she’d be on her way.

  Lamps lit the stairways and living room, but the curtains remained closed. Guilt pinged Briar’s chest, but she forced it away. They’d told her not to feel bad about keeping the curtains in the house closed. Because of a discovery and resulting medicine Hudson had made, all four of the vampires could walk in the sun. But because of Briar, they had to keep the curtains closed.

  They’d spent centuries in darkness, only for Hudson to discover a way for them to enjoy the sunlight again. And then they met her, and bam! Back to the shadows.

  “Good morning, little one.” Valen’s deep voice startled her, and she jumped, grasping the bannister so she didn’t tumble down the stairs. He jogged to meet her, white teeth bright in his handsome face. He stopped a couple stairs below her so they were eye-to-eye. “Sleep well?” he asked.

  Her stomach clenched. “I… I must have,” she answered. “I don’t remember. I’m sure I did.”

  He drew his blond brows together before touching beneath her eyes. “You seem tired. Are you getting sick?”

  “I don’t think so,” she answered and lifted her shoulders. “Maybe?”

  “Get back in bed,” Sylvain boomed from the living room. Booted feet hit the wood floor before he appeared a moment later. He touched her forehead with the back of his hand. “You don’t feel warm, but that doesn’t mean anything. Call Hudson. He’s a doctor. Or, if Marcus is closer, call Marcus. He’s a doctor of something, isn’t he?” Sylvain’s dark eyes flashed warningly when no one immediately jumped to do his bidding. “Marcus!” he yelled. “Hudson!”

  “I heard you,” Marcus called from the kitchen, and Briar giggled.

  Sylvain had wedged himself onto the same step as Valen, and now they stood, two giants on a tiny staircase.

  “I’m fine,” she assured Sylvain and kissed first him, and then Valen, on the cheek. “But I am hungry, and I don’t want to be late for class.”

  Sylvain growled but acquiesced, leading the way to the kitchen. Valen kissed her hand before laying it over his shoulder to lace her fingers with his. Once they got to the first floor, Briar could no longer reach Valen’s shoulder, and she released him.

  Not for the first time, she wondered at the beauty of him. Even in the dim light, she could make out the dark tendrils of ink that curled along his neck and jaw. His blond hair swept his shoulders. He was tall and handsome, but what really made him beautiful was his kindness. It seeped from his pores.

  Briar stopped him before they went into the kitchen with a gentle touch on his elbow. At once, he turned, smiling down at her. Standing on tiptoes, she brushed her lips across his.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “For being you,” she answered. “That’s all.”

  Eyes softening, Valen lifted her hand to his mouth. “What you do to my heart, little one.”

  “What you do to mine, Valen,” she replied just as quietly.

  With a small tug, he encouraged her into the kitchen. Marcus and Sylvain stood at the counter, dark heads bent toward each other as they spoke.

  Hudson sat on a stool, scrolling through his phone, but glanced up when she came through the door, his nostrils flaring. “You feeling all right?”

  Sylvain’s head snapped up at the question. “I knew she looked sick. I just told you.”

  Ignoring him, Hudson stood and strode toward her. He cupped her face, tipping her head back to the light to examine her eyes. “You’re paler than usual. Are you taking those iron supplements I got you?”

  Briar winced. “They make my stomach hurt. I found a children’s vitamin with iron, and it works better.”

  “No, that’s fine,” Hudson said, touching his fingers to her wrist to take her pulse. “I’m afraid you’re wearing yourself down. Were you up late last night studying?”

  “No later than usual. I’m probably fighting off a cold. Think about it, Hudson. I’ve essentially been sequestered from the general population most of my life. It’s inevitable that I’m going to be sick. I need to build up my immunity.”

  Two lines appeared between Hudson’s brows while he stared at his watch. “That could be it.”

  “Do I really look that bad?” She smoothed her knuckles beneath her eyebrows.

  “No,” Marcus answered quickly. “But you’re outnumbered with overprotective—”

  Briar waited, wondering how he’d finish the sentence. But he didn’t. He left it hanging and left her inordinately disappointed. In her mind, she didn’t like the term boyfriend.

  They felt bigger than that to her, more important than something as simple as boyfriends.

  He cleared his throat, overly interested suddenly in the coat hanging on the back of one of his chairs. “I need to get going. Let me drive you?”

  “She hasn’t had breakfast yet,” Sylvain said.

  “To go?” Briar said. She could sense Marcus wanted her to go with him, but
he wouldn’t push it. Sylvain frowned, but Briar had a plan. She grabbed fruit from the basket on the counter and a yogurt from the fridge and held it up. “Good?”

  He grumbled something that could have been an affirmative. She hugged him with one arm around his waist. “I’m going to take care of myself, Sylvain. I promise.” Beneath all of Sylvain’s hovering was worry, and Briar wasn’t going to make fun of him for it. He hadn’t revealed all that much of his past, but there was something there that colored the way he treated her.

  So many questions needed answers. But they’d come. She found herself using this phrase when her intuition told her she didn’t have the whole story. The answers will come. Just be patient.

  Sylvain wrapped both arms around her. Thick muscles blocked her view for a second before he let her go. “Promise?” he whispered when he leaned down to kiss her hair.

  “Promise.”

  “Ready?” Marcus asked, and Sylvain growled. Immediately, Marcus held up his hands, a half grin on his face. “Look, I’ve gotta go from here to Chestnut Hill and then to Cambridge on a Monday morning. Sorry if I want to leave a little early.”

  “You don’t have to bring her,” Sylvain ground out, arms tightening around her. Briar turned her head, kissing his pec. It was where her head reached. At least, that was her excuse. The other part of kissing his rock hard chest was because he was all muscly and she couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her when her lips grazed his body.

  Sylvain stilled, not even the breath left him. “Blossom,” he groaned under his breath, using the nickname he’d given her. His hair fell in front of her face as he bowed his head over hers. After a long moment, he released her and stepped away. “Drive safely,” he said gruffly to Marcus and, with a quick glance at Hudson and Valen, left.

  “I’ll see you later,” Valen said, rushing to her so fast he blurred. His kiss was a breeze across her skin, and then he was gone.

  With a quick wave, Hudson hurried behind them, leaving her and Marcus. The door hadn’t opened enough for her to see the weather before they were gone. “Where are they all going?” she asked. It was weird for Hudson not to be going to Boston College right away. But then again, he had worked late the night before.