Death By Seduction
- Crystal Jean
- May 11
- 10 min read
Updated: May 11
Part One: An Oath of Blood And Steel
Trigger Warning ⚠️
I want to give you a heads-up—this book contains intense themes, including blood, graphic depictions of torture, betrayal, corruption, and death. There will also be strong language and mature content.
Your well-being is important, so if any of these elements feel overwhelming or distressing, please prioritize yourself and step away if needed. You matter, and your mental and emotional health always comes first. Take care of yourself!
Chapter One:
The Rosary was a den of pleasure and power, where men brokered deals and sought solace from their worldly woes. I was a mere shadow in the corner, a silent witness to the spilled wine and whispered moans. Though docile and thoroughly distracted by brothel maidens, it didn't lessen the intimidation of the men around me. These were merciless killers, and despite the entertainment of women and refuge they refused to yield their arms and lower their defenses. As did I. From afar, I kept the hood of my cloak lowered over my head as I studied the ale in my pint.
The truth was that The Rosary was not fitting for a lady like me, but then again I am no mere lady. I am the next heir of the Half Moons, and the commander's favorite. An assassin, ready and willing by blood and oath. And tonight, I had a job to do. I was here strictly by his order to deliver the decree of jury and execution of Kearne Bauldair. A man of great power, wealth, and esteem - a vampire of considerable influence and respect from those of his community.
Bring me his fangs in a vial, my commander instructed. It was never my place to question, frankly the less I know the better. A sigh slipped from my lips as I sipped from the pint, and watched for my mark. I drank slowly, careful not to allow myself to get consumed by the beverage and throw myself off the game. I'd been nursing the same pint for the last hour and fanning away any waitress that might have tried to entertain me.
They'd never suspected that I too was a lady, blushing at the thought of them calling me names like "good sir" and "my lord". Not that I blamed them, even if they managed to get a glimpse of me, half of my face had still been concealed with a mask. Yet another order of my commander that I'd never allowed anyone except our house to know my true identity. I continued to watch the scene of the inn, and the way the women worked the room nickel and diming the men for pleasures and excitement. The sight of a young maiden walking around in a thin satin red dress caught my attention.
Her gown was everything indecent, exposing the swell of her breasts and the tenderness of her nipples. She was followed by the traveling eyes of a few hungry vampires, knowing their intention made my spine quiver. I'd been here for nearly two weeks watching and waiting for Bauldair, learning his routine, but witnessing the exposure of fangs against skin was something I'd never grow used to. I continued to observe her, watching as she sat comfortably on the lap of a waiting vampire. His silvery blonde hair gleamed against the dark of his clothes. His blue eyes pierced into hers as he welcomed her onto himself. The length of his hair brushed against her arms and thighs. I was certain that she truly believed that she'd selected him, but I could tell that it was he who chose her.
I watched as his fingers traced the bare skin of her shoulder, brushing away stray hairs before smoothing his lips over her tender flesh. She giggled as he kissed, and licked her While fingering tenderly at her now exposed breasts. He entertained her thighs and gave her pleasure as he inched his way up. She fell hungrily into him and allowed him to explore her. Seeing this brought on unfamiliar feelings of curiosity, and fascination.
His power seemed so forbidden, and illicit yet she showed no fear as he drove her higher to a point of climax. She orgasmed against him, and his mouth covered hers with a kiss before trailing to her jugular. Clearly that had been something she hadn't expected, but she submitted to him as she nodded her head back and allowed him ease of access. I witnessed as her eyes widened in a moment of pain and terror. The sound of her cry was quickly smothered by the palm of his hand as he proceeded to feed from her. My brows dipped in concern as I observed the color of her flesh drain.
The sight of it forced my hands to ball into fists. Mind your mark, it's none of your concern. It was no wonder my commander forbade me from anything recreational like this. Vampires were predatory creatures, parasites to our world, and the more people remembered that the better off we would be. I forced my eyes back to the doors of the inn, and nearly sighed with relief as I saw Bauldair step in accompanied by two other vampires who looked equally as hungry. The bronze of his skin glowed under the candlelight of the inn.
His locs were like rivers of oil flowing down his back to brush against his hips. The hazelnut of his eyes gleamed as he observed his surroundings. I wondered what his taste would be for tonight. Would he have his usual golden haired lady, or would he choose another? He and his company seemed to take a moment to view the scene of the brothel and make a decision on where they might take their business.
"I expect to hear from Rogan tonight, it seems we have a bit to discuss." He said as he continued in. My eyes dropped back to my pint as I listened to the direction his voice carried while he inched up the stairs. The moment I found it safe to follow, I stood and headed for his direction. I spotted the maiden again, now alone on the couch, and I couldn't help it as pity for the girl settled in my chest. It didn't take much to recognize that she was dead. My spine froze as she got the attention of others. Mind your mark, it's none of your business.
I took up the stairs after Bauldair, knowing I had mere seconds before he'd disappear again. Opening the doors, room after room, I trailed down the halls searching for him. I nearly screamed in frustration checking over again.
"Looking for some place private?" A woman said from behind me. The velvet of her voice was palpable. She must've had me mistaken for a gentleman.
I turned toward her, "something like that." I responded. Shock fixed her features, and went away just as quickly. The woman was beautiful, I identified her easily. She was Bauldair's favorite, and upon closer observation I could tell why. Her hair fell past her breast like a sheet of golden sunlight complimenting the sea blue hues of her eyes. Her lips were perfectly plump, only speaking to the way her body curved and swelled in all the right places. A slither of jealousy might have entertained my senses if I weren't so confident in my own looks.
"What's a girl like you doing in a woman's brothel?"
"I am not a girl."
"How old are you?" she questioned. Her brows flicked up in disbelief. I took pride in the fact that my age was still up for debate.
"Old enough."
Her hand went to her hip, exposing the red of her manicured nails, she clearly didn't believe me. The sounds of the brothel took over the silence that settled in our conversation.
"You will not go back down there," she commanded. "If the headmaster learns that a girl—who, by the way, claims to be a woman of age, and also, by the way, doesn't belong to him—has ventured here, he might not allow you to leave." Before I had any chance at responding, she took me by the hand and guided me further down the hall leading to another stairwell heading upwards. "Three doors to your right, and stay there until midnight."
There was no point in fighting with her, I'd already missed my mark and killing a headmaster in order to escape would have earned an even greater punishment with my commander.
I thanked her and did as told, ascending up the steps and into a dimly lit hall. The faint sound of moans and whispers told me that this part of the inn was strictly designed for those seeking a more intimate form of service. Finding the designated area she had instructed me to was easy. I turned the handle and walked in finding an empty room save for a drawing table and mattress.
The room was dimly lit by a single candle that flickered against the wall. The idea of staying here while my assignment practically slipped from my hands wasn't easy. I cursed myself for allowing him the distance, and the time to get away. I could nearly hear the commander's words after telling him that I'd failed this evening. You are not ready for the title. I'd hit my mark on multiple accounts, killing both man, vampire, and beasts alike. I'd also failed, bringing home nothing save for my life. Failure was unacceptable in the Half Moon House. It was better to come back dead than come back empty handed. I sighed, turning toward the door and allowing my head to rest on the wood. A breath left my lips as I collected my thoughts, and I began to—
An arm curled around my waist, pulling me back into a very hard, and very masculine body.
"So, you've decided to wish me good night," a deep voice said. "How thoughtful." His arm tightened around my waist as his hand rested at my hip. I had no idea what I was thinking, I should have gone for my dagger or at least my blade, but I allowed him the feeling of me and indulged him by turning around to face him.
My eyes immediately took in the sight of his chest, and my nostrils the smell of his sweat mixed with a cologne that smelled of dark oat and vanilla. I looked up more, gaining a better view of his face, and immediately recognized him.
My mark. My assignment. Kearne Bauldair, Prince of Westward. Fully man and fully vampire. I'd been watching him for exactly two weeks, waiting for this moment to finally collect what the commander demanded. And now that I was finally here, I froze. He seemed so tall, and foreboding. It was as if he had already begun to glamor me, and I was caught in some trance between awe and cowardice. That damned maiden, she had to have known he was in here waiting. Was this her room? After all, she was his favorite. It would have been foolish of her not to assume that he was looking for her, and waiting.
"One of the maidens must have tipped you that I'd come in." He assumed, did he seriously think that I was her? It seemed unreal to believe. The maiden that he'd favored was taller, and more full than I could ever be, besides I was– his fingers traced over the mask smoothing over my lips before tugging down and causing me to back into the door. "Did you want it to stay on?" I nodded.
The breath of his laugh seemed so enchanting. "You're strangely quiet tonight Zipporah," he said. "But that's okay, we don't have to talk." He stepped back, reaching for the hem of his tunic before dragging it over his face. My lips parted at the sight of his perfectly toned muscles and the hard lines of his body. The feeling of my stomach twisting and melting was indescribable and uniquely unfamiliar.
"Your turn," he said. I shook my head, still stunned that I'd been in such a predicament.
I should have been taking a stake to his heart, battling him as if my life depended on it. I should have been cutting out his fangs. But instead I was stuck, dazed by the image of him. He inched near me again, taking my cloak into his fingertips as if he were about to remove it, but he didn't. I nearly sighed with relief as he dropped his hands.
"I'm not really sure what's going on, but I'm keen to find out."
He lowered himself, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me to his chest as he turned us both toward the bed in the far corner of the room. In seconds he was under me, nestled between my legs. The length of his locs curtained my face with his as he stared down at me.
His kiss took me by surprise, the sudden rush of heat and desire infiltrated my veins as our lips joined. It was irresistibly wicked. I tasted the sweetness of him, a decadent flavor that lingered on my lips, and I found myself melting into his embrace. The feeling of hot and molten lust burned through my stomach as I hooked my thighs around him. He deepened the kiss, licking at my tongue and nipping at my lips while his hands searched my body.
I moaned into him, and allowed him to drive me into a sea of sensation, drowning in the depths of longing and desire.
I could feel the cool of his body mixed with the heat of his touch as he continued to caress me in places no man has ever dreamed of. He tasted me, and I felt it all over my flesh and bones. The essence of my being reacted as if I'd yearned for something far deeper and more profound in him than what I'd originally bargained for, and had been assigned to. Something was waking inside of me, yet a slither of discernment screamed that this was wrong, that he was my enemy. The feeling itself fought with that of a more primal one urging me to let go and allow him what he'd wanted.
But I could not. I would not.
The Half Moons would neither forget nor forgive our enemy. We were the shadows that stalked the night, the whisper of death that haunted dreams. They may roam the earth, but once the mark was established, it was sealed forever. Kearne Bauldair was my mark, and neither his long locs nor his profound touch would change that. I began to reach for the hilt of the blade at my hip, ever so slowly —
The kiss broke in one quick instant for him to look down at me, his body went rigid with tension.
"You are certainly no brothel maiden," he said. "Who are you?"
"Your executioner."
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