CRIMSON BONDS

CRIMSON BONDS

Joy Dee · Ongoing · 34.0k Words

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Introduction

When tenacious journalist Vivienne Thorne infiltrates a secretive gathering to investigate a string of disappearances, she never expects to be captured by Damien Blackthorn—the enigmatic CEO of Blackthorn Industries who harbors a deadly secret: he's a vampire lord whose powers are mysteriously waning.
Instead of killing her, Damien makes Vivienne an impossible offer: marry him in a binding blood contract to help him keep control over his territory, or watch as everyone she loves becomes collateral damage in a brewing vampire civil war.
As their reluctant alliance evolves into dangerous attraction, Vivienne learns her mysterious blood disorder is actually proof of a heritage she never knew existed—one that makes her both invaluable and deadly to the vampire world. When her apparently dead father reappears as a vampire hunter determined to destroy Damien, Vivienne must choose between the family ties she's always longed for and the forbidden bond forming with a man she should consider her enemy.
But in Shadowveil, nothing is as it seems. As ancient conspiracies surface and enemies emerge from within their closest friends, Damien and Vivienne find themselves pawns in a game centuries in the making. Their blood bond may be their best weapon—or the catalyst that awakens an ancient darkness threatening to consume them both.

Chapter 1

The paper on Viv's desk was covered in red marks. Not her blood, thank goodness, just her boss's angry red pen. She sighed and pushed her dark hair out of her eyes.

"Viv, I'm telling you for the last time. Drop this missing people story," said Mr. Roberts, her boss at the City News. He was a round man with a red face who always looked like he might burst. "It's nothing but ghost stories and wild guesses."

"But Mr. Roberts, seventeen people have gone missing in the last month alone!" Viv pointed to the pictures on her wall. "And all of them disappeared after being seen near Blackthorn Tower."

"Blackthorn Industries employs half the city," Mr. Roberts said, rolling his eyes. "Of course people were seen near their building before they vanished. People are always near that building!"

Viv knew he was wrong. She could feel it in her bones, the same way she could feel when a storm was coming. Something was very, very wrong in the city, and it had everything to do with Damien Blackthorn, the mystery owner of Blackthorn Industries.

"One week," she begged. "Give me one more week to find proof."

Mr. Roberts sighed, his big shoulders falling. "Fine. One week. But if you don't have real evidence by then, you're going back to writing about lost dogs and bake sales."

After he left, Viv pulled out her secret notebook. Inside were things she hadn't told anyone—not even her best friend, Jenny. She had been having strange dreams about the lost people. In her dreams, she saw them in a dark place with glowing red eyes watching them.

What was even weirder was that she had dreamed about three people before they went missing. It was like her dreams were warning her, but she didn't understand the warnings until it was too late.

"I'm going to find you," she whispered to the photos on her wall. "I promise."

That night, Viv couldn't sleep. Her tiny apartment felt too hot, too small. The dreams were getting worse. She saw a girl with blonde hair crying in a dark room. The girl looked right at Viv—which had never happened in these dreams before—and whispered, "Help me. I'm at the old cathedral."

Viv sat up, wide awake. The old cathedral? That was right behind Blackthorn Tower. Could it be real?

She glanced at her clock: 3:17 AM. No sane person would go out at this hour to check an old cathedral because of a dream. But Viv had never claimed to be sane, especially when it came to a good story.

She pulled on black jeans and a dark hoodie. If she was going to sneak around at night, she didn't want to be seen.

The old cathedral was huge and creepy in the moonlight. Its stone walls were covered in vines, and most of its windows were broken. A sign on the rusty gate said "KEEP OUT" in big red letters.

Viv had never been good at following rules. She slipped through a hole in the fence and crept toward the building.

As she got closer, she heard music. Not church music—this was the kind of music rich people danced to at fancy parties. It was coming from inside the supposedly abandoned cathedral.

"What the heck?" she whispered to herself.

She found a broken window near the ground and peeked inside. What she saw made her gasp.

The inside of the cathedral had been transformed. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. People in expensive clothes danced and laughed, holding glasses of dark red liquid. But they weren't just any people—Viv recognized the mayor, the police chief, and several other important city officials.

And there, in the center of it all, was Damien Blackthorn himself. He was tall and pale, with sharp cheekbones and dark hair. He looked like a prince from a dark fairy tale.

Viv pulled out her phone and started taking pictures. This was the proof she needed! Whatever these rich people were doing in a supposedly abandoned building, it wasn't normal.

She was so busy taking pictures that she didn't notice someone coming up behind her until a hand touched her shoulder.

Viv whirled around, heart pounding. A security guard in a black suit stood there, looking at her with a strange smile.

"You shouldn't be here, miss," he said. His teeth looked too sharp.

"I'm sorry, I got lost," Viv lied. "I'll just go now."

"Oh, I don't think so," said the guard. "Mr. Blackthorn would like to meet the little spy who's been asking questions about his business."

Viv's blood turned to ice. Before she could run, two more guards appeared out of the darkness. They grabbed her arms and started dragging her toward the church door.

"Let me go!" she yelled, but her voice seemed to disappear into the night.

The guards took her through a side door and down a long hallway. The music got louder as they approached a set of big wooden doors.

"Wait here," one guard said, and went inside.

Viv looked around frantically for a way to escape. There was a small window at the end of the hall, but it was too high to reach. She tried to pull away from the guard who still held her, but his grip was like iron.

The door opened, and the guard returned. "Mr. Blackthorn will see you now."

They pulled Viv into the main room of the church. The music stopped. Everyone turned to look at her. Their eyes seemed to glow in the dim light.

And then the crowd parted, and Damien Blackthorn stood before her. Up close, he was even more handsome and terrifying. His eyes were the strangest color—a blue so dark it was almost black.

"Well, well," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "What do we have here? A little mouse sneaking around my party?"

"I'm not a mouse," Viv said, trying to sound brave. "I'm a reporter. And I'm investigating the people who've gone missing near your building."

A strange look passed over Blackthorn's face. "Missing people? How interesting." He stepped closer to her. "And what makes you think I know anything about that?"

"Because—" Viv started to say, but suddenly she couldn't speak. A strange feeling came over her, like someone was pressing on her mind.

And then, as Blackthorn stepped even closer, something even stranger happened. A flash of memories hit her—memories that weren't hers. A battlefield from hundreds of years ago. The taste of blood. A woman with red hair, screaming.

"What are you?" Blackthorn whispered, his face now inches from hers. He looked shocked.

Viv's head spun. The room around her seemed to tilt and sway. The last thing she saw before everything went black was Damien Blackthorn's face, his dark eyes wide with surprise.

And in that moment, she knew with absolute certainty that she had just discovered something much bigger and more dangerous than missing people. She had found monsters hiding in plain sight.

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