Bloody Baron Novels & Stories

Meanwhile, about eight hours earlier, miles away from the villa and in a completely forgotten sector of the city was Rusty Bayron. The second heir was sunk in the darkest corner of a bar recognized throughout the city for its political clientele. Rusty had his black shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his hair messy and sticky from the sweat of drunkenness, and his gaze completely lost. He dragged his fingers across the sticky surface of the bar's wood, pushing a thick glass cup that now contained only melted ice.

"Rodin. I need-" Rodin took over and shifted before Mason could finish. Right before Barrick brought down his sword, Rodin ripped Barrick's head and tossed it across the room in one sweeping motion. Blood spewed everywhere like an exploding pinata. Everything from Xenia to the tent's walls was painted with his blood. Xenia's eyes were closed until the blood hit her, and her eyes shot open. She stared at Rodin with blood covering his snarling teeth and his body trembling from the rush of the kill.

Jason was talking to none other than the other reason for my sleepless night, the sandy haired boy with a sleeve of tattoos, the same person who'd done unspeakable things to Sienna and given me a sleepless night, and he looked to be good friends with Jason. I had a good feeling about this game, but now, I was more than ready to bail.

The barman glanced at her and she waved him over just as the two men flanked her. “I’ll have another,” Hunter said to the barman. “Boss wants to see you.” The man standing next to her was huge. He had a goatee, dark brown hair and blank eyes. He was meaty, there were no other words to describe him and Hunter knew that even with her heels, he’d tower over her. Her drink appeared and she downed the vodka again, this time ignoring the lime. “Put it on your boss’s tab.” The barman looked at the big man. He nodded his head and Hunter stood up from the bar stool.

Al said as he put his luggage on one of the customer tables and then occupied one of the rows of chairs in front of the bar table. "Everything needs a revolution, just like humans evolve into vampires. This bar can also evolve into a cafe," replied Ann. "I was born a vampire, not evolved into a vampire. Remember that." "Huh? What? Did you say something hybrid vampire? Or hybrid human? Which nickname do you prefer?" sneered Josh who was now sitting in the seat next to Al. Al just hissed in annoyance. "Where is the information I asked for? I have to return to the castle immediately."

Though he and I had been friends for years and I knew Zeus, he never liked people buying what he had unless he reluctantly wanted to sell it or give it out. “She’s not up for sale,” he said, his hand tightening around the cup of wine. “What about two hundred thousand?” another man bargained. I arched my brow, savoring their bargaining like a predator watching prey. “Five hundred thousand grams,” another man chimed in. Suddenly my low voice cut through the air, “She will die, soon maybe, and instead of a bargain, she should be set free, to find a way around this curse…” I thundered.

Leonard, meanwhile, sat at the head of the table with the men, his voice calm but commanding, like he was orchestrating a symphony only he could hear. Dinner began. Conversation buzzed. I tried to steady my hands as I lifted my glass, pretending the crystal didn’t tremble against my fingers. And then it happened. The wine slipped before I even realized it—scarlet liquid blooming like blood across the lap of Bianca Moretti, the wife of the rival boss himself. The hall stilled. Forks paused mid-air. “Oh God….” I reached for a napkin, mortified, but Bianca caught my wrist before I could dab at the spreading stain.

Barrett snapped at Serena to leave, then instructed Tara to dismiss all the servants, allowing only his father and older brother to remain in the room. Lately, Barrett had been drinking more than usual. His complexion appeared sallow and haggard. His hair was a mess, like wild grass growing unchecked. His beard, likely only shaved a few days ago, had already grown out in a thin, patchy circle around his pale, cracked lips. To any onlooker, he resembled a wild, mangy dog.

That was when my breath seemed to leave my lungs. Even if I knew that my own grandfather was one of those who had planned this cruel scheme and that he had only thought of me as a tool, I still couldn’t bear to see him being killed before my own eyes. Surprisingly, Dicken did not attack Baron immediately. Instead, he used his own razor-sharp tail fin to slice a chunk out of Baron’s own, like an ancient warrior who cuts off his enemy’s arm as his spoil for winning.

I asked him as I tore through the big brown envelope. "I just received it on my way back few minutes ago, Alberto's visit delayed my bringing the file to you." The moment I saw the content of the file, a dark chuckle escaped my lips. "Of course this is about that fucking blood bank" Baron picked up the file from where I dropped it carelessly on the island out of anger. His eyes hardened as he read the content of the file. "He wants you to sign this fucking document? He wants you to agree to using humans here in New York as wholesale blood distributors? Is he fucking nuts?"