The Fear of the Dark (Blood and Moon Book 1), page 1
The Fear of the Dark
Blood and Moon Part One
Alex Vale
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Content Warnings
1. CHAPTER ONE
2. CHAPTER TWO
3. CHAPTER THREE
4. CHAPTER FOUR
5. CHAPTER FIVE
6. CHAPTER SIX
7. CHAPTER SEVEN
8. CHAPTER EIGHT
9. CHAPTER NINE
10. CHAPTER TEN
11. CHAPTER ELEVEN
12. CHAPTER TWELVE
13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
19. CHAPTER NINETEEN
20. CHAPTER TWENTY
21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
22. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
23. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
24. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
26. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
27. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
About the Author
THE FEAR OF THE DARK, Blood and Moon Part One
Copyright © 2024 by Alex Vale
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Edited by Susan Keillor
Proofread by Jen Speck
Cover art by Adrijus at rockingbookcovers
To Ron, who dragged me to my feet when I thought I could no longer stand.
To Kussy and Lance, for giving me the strength and courage to turn my writing into what you are holding.
To the queer creatives who didn't think they'd ever have a voice but shouting at the tops of your lungs, anyway.
And to the team behind it all.
Content Warnings
All triggers and content warnings can be found on the author's website at alexvalewrites.com
CHAPTER ONE
Nikola
Avampire is hunting inside my favorite bar. So much for a night off.
Nikola Kingston swallowed down the rest of his vodka, pushing the glass across the damp counter with payment for his tab stuck underneath. He looked around instinctually, his fingertips tapping on the bar top with pent-up energy. There was a reason he haunted popular drinking spots—they were honeypots for vampires of every walk of life. That included intruders from across the border.
And Nikola, with his senses fine-tuned from centuries of life, and further sharpened living under Lady Morrigan the last few decades, easily identified the coppery-and-pine scent of Lord Malkolm’s coven.
He leaned back and scanned the lively space. The night was still young, just running closer to ten. Most places with a human customer base didn’t stay open past midnight, given the fact the mortal citizens of the city of Grander knew better than to walk the streets too late after dark. But it was the weekend, and humans weren’t exactly known for their survival instincts. So, the place was packed.
Even still, the invader Nikola had spotted stood out. He lingered on the indoor balcony, scanning the dancing, drinking crowd below with crimson eyes that branded him as a Blood Follower. Had the creature even noticed Nikola, or had he simply dismissed Nikola as just another Moon Child? Basing his observation off the hungry twitch of the invader’s lips and the milky smoothness of his cheeks, Nikola believed him to be a recently Changed vampire—too young to know better. Or too arrogant.
Nikola decided not to act yet. Keeping the nocturnal monster in his peripheral, he evaluated his options. Unlike the other vampire, he was not a vampire who hunted to devour and kill.
He was a Moon Child, marked by silver eyes, and drew neither power nor pleasure from murder. The puncture of Nikola’s teeth on a human’s neck was akin to the kiss of a lover. The act of his feeding, at least according to his own philosophy, was something a human participated in—not fell prey to.
Though, truth be told, if the red-eyed fiend was a member of Morrigan’s coven, Nikola wouldn’t have batted an eye. You are the company you keep, his consciousness scolded him. He brushed off the thought, reminding himself that he owed his life to his creator, and part of that contract commanded that he defend the borders established between Lady Morrigan and Lord Malkolm.
The club was in full swing that cool October evening. Shirtless men with their body temperatures spiked by alcohol stumbled around the other patrons in broken, sweaty mating dances. The electronic bass from the techno music pulsated from the speaker mounted high above, and the floor was packed with swaying bodies and spilled drinks. Cheering, laughing, singing, and the occasional sob would’ve been a buzz of senseless noise to human ears, but Nikola was able to distinguish the individual notes.
Weaving between the sounds of life was the colorful thrum of emotions radiating off each human like heat. The kaleidoscope of feelings ranged from excitement to heartbreak to boredom, threatening to overwhelm Nikola if he let his guard down. But a Moon Child didn’t make it to Nikola’s age without learning how to filter out even the loudest thoughts.
A smile touched his lips. As a youth, the world today was one he simply could not have imagined. Technology, politics, war—though these things boggled the old mind at the speed at which they progressed—they could not compare to the social circles of the modern human. Nikola preferred this club primarily because it was a literal symbol of the love, sex, and interactions that were once an unspeakable crime.
Before he could get lost in retrospection, as he was apt to do, he recentered himself with a deep breath. The intruder had drifted to the north side of his balcony, and Nikola did not want to risk losing him in the crowd.
Nikola followed the scarlet line of sight.
At the bar on the ground floor, a young man sipped on a pale beer. The spikes of his black septum ring touched the brim of the mug with each raise. He had shaggy hair and tired eyes. With his tan skin and strong facial features, he had the perfect physique to be a beachgoer, but he dressed closer to a rock band groupie with his black shirt torn at the sleeves and ripped skinny jeans. He paid far more attention to his phone than to anyone else around him.
Nikola wondered if he came alone. The young man looked clearly unhappy about his current situation. Perhaps he’d received bad news. Perhaps his companions had abandoned him where he sat. Regardless of what had happened, disappointment hung over him like a miasma.
Don’t travel the streets of Grander alone at night. That was a rule Nikola heard whispered amongst humans often.
Nikola leaned back and waited, watching both the human and the deadly vampire. Other partygoers drifted around Nikola, some stopping to address him, often in a drunken attempt to make a move. Nikola could admit that he found himself to be a visually pleasing creature. Smooth skin, a silvery blond ponytail that reached the middle of his back, silver eyes. His clothes were simple but stylish, composed of a well-fitting button-up and casual dress pants, highlighting his tall and muscular build. He’d found the less he dressed up, the easier it was to keep up with modern trends.
His admirers took his unearthly stillness and silence as rejection. If any of them responded to it with anger, he did not care enough to notice.
The other vampire descended the stairs toward the ground floor. If there was any blood in Nikola’s starved veins to fuel it, his heart would be racing with excitement. The other vampire made no acknowledgement of his presence, so perhaps he did not see Nikola as a threat.
A common mistake.
The Blood Follower waded through the dance floor crowd. The creature sidestepped the patrons with such grace it was as if he was actually joining in on the celebration of the nightlife. A few men even attempted to grab the slender male, but he slipped from their grasps as if they were as weak as a fog’s caress.
The predatory vampire placed a hand on the human’s shoulder, causing him to startle. The vampire smiled apologetically, sitting beside his prey. Crimson blood flushed the man’s cheeks over the empty flattery the vampire made about his hairstyle. Nikola noticed the way the Blood Follower’s pupils exploded with marked hunger.
The human made circular motions toward his own eyes, indicating the unnatural red glow of the vampire’s. Nikola frowned, suspecting that the human may not be from around here. There were urban legends surrounding those of red eyes amongst the civilians of Grander—though most who were close enough to gaze into the scarlet pools did not live to tell the tale.
The vampire laughed, loudly saying, “Contacts? Do you like them?” The human stumbled on a nervous compliment. The vampire interrupted the clumsy attempt by drawing him into an intense kiss.
The creature, opening his eyes, met Nikola’s furious gaze as the human drowned in the act. Gloating at his victory.
Ah, so he does think me a random Moon Child.
If only that were true.
The predatory vampire tilted his head and mouthed his invitation to the human. Nikola could feel the shudders of his seductive charms ripple across the room. No human stood a chance against a vampire’s hypnosis, either of Moon or Blood. T
Nikola allowed them to push through the crowd before deciding to follow them. If he were too obvious, the Blood Follower might try to make a scene in the public space, and if it’s one thing any of the vampiric leaders punished the most, it was public spectacles.
He maintained that distance as he followed the pair into the cool night. A new moon, the type of night most Blood Followers were most active. He kept his eyes fixed on the back of the vampire’s head as they maneuvered through the lively party district, the neon signs and streetlamps reflecting off the white sidewalks in a dizzying whirlwind of lights and colors. The party district was one of the few secure places in the city of Grander, but it was far from airtight.
It was simple keeping track of the vampire and his prey even amidst the stumbling, drunken crowd. Nikola just had to listen for the silence of a still heart.
Nikola stalked the two for a couple more blocks, blending into the shadows. Surely the Malkolm vampire had picked up on their pursuer, but he seemed not to worry. He truly did not perceive Nikola as the legitimate threat he was.
The sounds of bass music and drunken fraternizing faded away into the background as they walked into quieter, darker boulevards. The surrounding apartments and businesses were as dead as the night sky. Those who lived around here were smart enough to be inside after sundown, tucked relatively safely into their beds.
“Where was it you said you lived?” the human’s voice echoed.
The vampire did not answer and instead placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Even from a distance, Nikola could feel the human’s thrill of emotion roll down the empty streets. A sharp thrill that crackled into fear as the vampire’s eyes glowed scarlet, like cigarette cherries burning in the dark.
The vampire’s hand slapped across the human’s mouth, muffling his oncoming cry. The pair moved as a blur as the vampire pulled his prey deeper into a cramped alley. There was a saying around here that went something along the lines of, Grander is a maze to get lost in, so head straight home and ignore the screams down the street.
Nikola snapped into action, his footfalls hardly touching the ground as he raced around the corner. That human is not yours to feed from, was Nikola’s first thought, a thread of his sense of duty to Lady Morrigan. And he hated himself for it, for his actions not having any real heroic motivation.
He quietly sent a prayer for forgiveness to the Moon Goddess. She hasn’t abandoned me after all these years, so I shall not abandon her.
The vampire had the human pinned against a wall, his mouth clamped shut. Black nails curled out into claws, digging into the human’s soft cheeks. A gleeful smile exposed animalistic fangs as the human thrashed in vain. That grin faltered as the Blood Follower glanced up and caught sight of Nikola charging at him.
Utilizing the full scale of his gargantuan build, Nikola slammed his shoulder into the vampire. The human tore free, screaming, and hit the ground running. Good, Nikola thought. I need not tell him to flee.
The Malkolm vampire crashed into the asphalt, a snarl on his lips. He tried to push himself up, but Nikola snapped a kick into his face. He felt the crunch of bone beneath the leather of his shoe. Since the creature hadn’t fed recently, there was no blood to spill.
Nikola knelt down and grabbed the intruder by the collar, forcing him to look into his silver eyes. The red eyes glaring back shone with angry vehemence. “Who the fuck are you, Moon Child?” the Blood Follower growled.
“Nikola Kingston of Lady Morrigan,” he answered calmly, a note of sadness in his English voice. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
Recognition and fright pulsated from the intruder. Before he could react, Nikola threw a punch across his jaw, dislocating it and knocking him out.
Nikola dragged the trespasser up to Dust Street, which laid along the western edge of the border between the Malkolm and Morrigan territories. It was starting to drizzle, puddles forming on the decrepit pavement. The looming housing units were utterly silent at this hour.
He rolled the vampire over the invisible territory line with the toe of his shoe. The trespasser would live tonight, live to tell the tale. Just another drop in the bucket that was the Nikola Kingston story.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and heaved a sigh. I haven’t been on patrol, yet still I was denied a drink. He would need to hunt tomorrow while scouting with whoever he was assigned with—an unfortunate happenstance. Nikola loathed feeding near the presence of Lady Morrigan’s Blood Followers, who would often mock him for “letting his prey escape.” Thus was the price of being the only Moon Child in Morrigan’s coven. The only Moon Child amongst any Blood covens, as far as he knew.
“You are the company you keep,” Nikola said to himself. He began to turn away, but movement caught his eye.
The trespasser had vanished from where Nikola had left him. A grunt echoed through the night, deeper from within Malkolm’s territory, followed by gross sobbing. Then, a second voice, high-strung and biting with rage. “What the fuck you think you’re doing? Are you tryna start shit you got no business starting?”
“Sir, I’m sorry.” Nikola recognized the trespasser’s pleading.
“Dumbass!” There was the blunt sound of metal colliding with bone. Then a shriek. Someone, most likely a superior, was disciplining that vampire for crossing lines—at least that meant it was an isolated incident and not a move on Malkolm’s part.
Still, I will report it.
Nikola kept moving, leaving the sounds of the ruthless beating behind.
CHAPTER TWO
Asher
Asher Black was kind of relieved this idiot washed up on shore when he had. He’d had a lot of steam to blow off ever since the boss had decided that everyone should lay low and observe his enemies.
Observe. Tch. Where’s the fun in that? Asher landed a final blow into the idiot’s ribs, enjoying the satisfying snap, and tossed the crowbar aside. It clanged against the dumpster before clattering to the trash-riddled concrete.
Asher stared down his nose at the whimpering idiot, pushing his dark stringy curls from his eyes. Christ, what was this guy’s name again? The High King had given Malkolm permission to uptick their numbers, so Asher was having a shit time keeping up with newbie names and faces.
“Master, please.” Asher rolled his eyes and kicked him in the side for good measure. He felt the give of shattered bone beneath the steel tip of his boot. The vampire heaved, shuddering and coughing—he’d be choking up blood if he had managed to feed.
“I ain’t gonna kill you,” Asher said, sounding dejected. Malkolm wouldn’t want Asher killing off the new numbers he’d been asking the green light for over the last couple decades. “But only because your dumb ass didn’t manage to catch a human on enemy territory. What the hell were you even doin’ over there, huh?”
“My—my favorite bar—I miss it—”
Asher squatted and grabbed a fistful of the idiot’s hair, yanking his head back so he was forced to look into Asher’s face. Like everyone else, the newbie gawked at the inch-wide scar running diagonally from Asher’s left eyebrow down to the right corner of his mouth. Asher resisted the urge to slam the idiot’s skull into the asphalt.
“You ain’t a human no more,” Asher said, his voice even and low, a serious alteration from his manic shrill moments ago. The vampire trembled. “That means you have new rules to follow. You miss your old life bad enough, I can put you out of your misery.”
“N-no!” the vampire cried. Asher was almost disappointed. “I want to live!”
“Then you best start living for Lord Malkolm.” Asher stood up and checked the time on his cellphone. There were a couple more hours until sunrise. Maybe the newbie would recover enough to crawl beneath shelter somewhere before then. Oh, well. Not my problem.
But before he could leave the idiot amongst the rubble, he needed to ask something. “I’m surprised whoever beat your ass dropped you off without killing you. Who’d ya run into?”
