Blood Servant Pt. 01

Hey all, the following is book one in a new harem urban fantasy adventure. It has all the usual elements of one of my fantasy works, no group sex in this one though, but that'll come in book two. Lots of MF scenes however, more than usual, but they're all kind of necessary for plot and character development and some are very shorthanded. Anyway, this one's a bit different than usual, a little darker. No one was more surprised than I was to be writing in the old and tired vampire subgenre, but give it a shot as I put my flavor on it and then some. Enough rambling, hope you enjoy...

The obligatory warning... Copyright 2020. This is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, Places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission.

THRALL RISING

Prologue

Six Months Ago...

The silence of the crowded room was almost as oppressive as the cold empty look in my father's eyes, and the shame in my mother's. We all stood in the power focus room, a room where many mages could focus and join their power to add it to the clan leader's control. It was the only room large enough in the mansion to hold our full clan of mages all at once and in one place, save the dining room which wasn't appropriate for this occasion.

I was just eighteen, and I had very little worth. I should have been standing there on my twenty-first birthday proudly and victorious. I should've been named and verified as the successor of my mage clan. Clan Kotch. My father ruled in this place, and his father before him, and so on for generation upon generation until back in the late seventeen hundreds. When our clan had moved out of Germany and put down roots in the new world across the ocean. America. Led here by my ultimate great grandfather twelve generations back.

Of course, I stood in shame, as I couldn't rule anything without command of magic. I had magic, I could feel it, but these last five years when I should've mastered it, I still hadn't managed to do the smallest thing with it. It was the command of magic that I lacked. I didn't blame my parents for their anger or shame in me. They'd done everything they could to help me coax it out, brought in experts to discover the key to my magic and what it might be. They'd even approached the Miyashita clan for assistance, in the hope the one eastern clan on this continent could help with their vastly different approaches to magi power.

There were many types of mages. Fire, earth, air, water, nature, psionic, life, death, creation, and void. I'd been taken to experts and consultants, yet my magic refused to budge or be put to any task I was urged to bend my mind to.

The trick with magic was it couldn't do anything but what it was made for, at least the first time it was used. Unless I stumbled upon its true nature while attempting to wield it, then it would remain forever quiescent in the core of my being. Once activated and released for the first time, there were spells common to all mages, but those spells were worthless to me as well until my core was opened up. I couldn't channel the magic into a spell-form. I was helpless, in a world that had very little pity even for their own, much less compassion.

The type of magic was called an affinity, and to wield that power the mage needed no spells at all. Just will, imagination, and focus. Spells were more diverse, but a mage used their affinity in battle. A spell would just take too long in battle, when fighting an impossibly fast opponent like a shifter, or worse, a vampire. Either one would have your throat torn out before the second word of a spell could leave your lips.

There were only two options.

Either there was something wrong with me, or I had a magic never seen before in the history of the world. Guess what everyone in my clan thought of me? The former of course. It was far more likely I was just an idiot than the idea I was born with new and unique magic. A new magic type was something that hadn't happened in known Magi history, and it was considered impossible by commonly held wisdom. Given all that, I couldn't really blame them for blaming me. I'd never been good with my studies either, though I had tried my hardest to spark my magic to life, it simply hadn't happened. In short, I blamed myself as well.

So, there I stood in disgrace and humiliation, and I half expected to be disowned and be put out onto the streets to make my way among the mortals of this world.

My father was more merciful than I expected, or perhaps more than I deserved even.

"Gregory, you are henceforth removed as my heir from this day forward, the presumed place given at your birth. Your cousin Elsa will be my heir from this day forward."

Well, fucking hell. I knew that must've been hard for the old man to say. He despised his brother, although I supposed he liked his niece, my cousin, well enough. Elsa would be sure to give me shit too, probably for the rest of my life. Point being, my uncle would be sure to be crowing about this for the next two hundred years.

He said, "However, you are not disowned. I would not see you gone from the clan's care." That seemingly caring pronouncement was surprising to me, at least until he got to the next sentence when his unaccustomed generosity suddenly made sense, "You still have much power in you though it is untapped, and perhaps your children will be worthy of the family name you bear."

Ouch, yeah, that hurt a bit. Not about me at all, or familial ties. It was all about the old man's hope to regain the shreds of his legacy in my children, or no doubt I would be out on my ass. My face was an iron mask of non-expression despite the raging storm of emotions in my chest. I wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction in finding out just how upset, pissed off, and small I felt. I'd be kept like a pet, the clans plaything, looked down on, and lord knows how my parents would find a female mage of standing willing to breed with me. No doubt he'd have to bribe one, and he would, to secure his family line's legacy.

That would be mortifying.

For a mage clan, power was everything, and I had no command of power, which made me nothing.

It wasn't that hard, hiding my emotions I mean. I'd been disappointing them for five years now, so I'd long learned how to hide what I was feeling.

"I understand, father."

He flinched and looked angry at my delivery, but I hadn't broken protocol, and I'd used a tone of respect. Really, it was my only weapon, in this place where everyone had strength that I did not. Character and integrity didn't mean much of anything in this place where power was all, except perhaps to me. But then, maybe I clung to those things merely to make me feel better about my lot in life.

Wishing never changed anything.

He said, "You will move your things out of the main house, and you'll be staying with the staff to learn how to take charge of them. You will work for your place here, in the only way you can, by leading those that serve and protect us. Understood?"

"Yes, Clan Leader."

He nodded, "Dismissed."

I turned, my face starting to burn despite my best effort. I heard my father calling Elsa forward and her answering victorious and smug tone as I slipped out of the power focus room. It felt like salt on the wound.

Chapter One

Present Day...

The explosion roared deafeningly and shook the office I was in. The whole guesthouse, main mansion, and the rest of the property too I'd imagine. I felt shaky for a moment, quite literally as my ears rang and some smaller follow up explosions happened. The estates wards were down, probably that first huge explosion. My clan was under attack, the biggest one I'd ever heard of at least as long as I'd been alive. The clans had been at peace for decades now. I couldn't think who'd be behind it. There were only three other mage clans from Europe and Asia in America, and we weren't on bad terms with any of them, that I knew of. Of course, with my disgraced status the last three months, I doubted that I'd have been told if that changed recently.

You know that expression, caught with your pants down? That's what happened to me that early June morning on the estate, north of Washington D.C.

Quite literally, caught with my pants down.

My head was still spinning with confusion as I pulled my pants up and looked around for my shirt. Yesenia, the sexiest, sultriest, and most sensual shifter we had on staff was already shifting to her lioness form. She was always an amazing fuck and available to me by her nature and mutual attraction, but never more so than the three days a month she was in heat. Point being, despite her being the help and me her boss, it was totally mutual lust between us, and she was in love with my fat cock.

I felt a quite inappropriate moment of anger, amongst the concern and fear that was warring in my chest.

I mean, people were dying out there, and I was kind of annoyed. They couldn't have waited two more minutes to attack, could they? Bastards. Interrupted sex was the worst. I'd been about to empty myself into the tight and sexy as hell Latina body and I still had a raging hard-on as I uncomfortably closed up my jeans and then snagged my t-shirt off the chair behind me.

Another explosion, smaller, but a lot closer. Probably the front door to the guest house being blown in. That guess was backed up a moment later when I heard screams. I had nothing, no magic, no weapons, I was just their pet with no power, and I managed the shifter guards and human servants. All very well paid by the way.

Yesenia growled and flicked her tail at the desk, and I scowled. No fucking way was my clan's enemy going to find me hiding under the desk. I'd rather die on my feet as a powerless male mage, than be that much of a sniveling coward.

Yesenia roared and took a menacing step toward me. I had no doubt she'd slap me unconscious with a paw and throw me under the desk if I challenged that roared order.

Fuck, so much for my manliness under fire, I was under the desk before I knew it. I salved my conscience and pride, telling myself that Yesenia would have a much better chance of survival if she didn't have to worry about covering me during the fight that was surely coming. She'd have free movement without having to defend me in the open.

My mind bought it, but my heart called me a fucking spineless pussy. Still, she was the security expert, and I was the client, so I'd live with it and swallow my pride. It's not like I wasn't unmanned in this place all the time, by those with access to their magic power. My own relatives, who I suspected were dying in that moment. Breaking long established wards charged daily for years was all but impossible, but the backlash would've hit the whole clan.

Kind of like the shock of a flashbang for a human, but times ten and the disorientation would last for minutes instead of seconds. My family was probably getting slaughtered.

You know what, the only one I was really worried about in that moment was Yesenia, and I don't think it was because she was guarding my weak ass, or how good her pussy felt and how well she used it. Of course, any more than friendship with benefits between a mage and shifter were prohibited, since the two races couldn't interbreed.

I suppose when the shit was flying, the important things came into focus.

The roar and explosion sent a blast of heat into the room, and Yesenia roared as she lunged toward the door. Then there was the horrific sounds of fighting. Lamps breaking, walls being pounded, and so forth. My heart battered like a snare drum in my chest, and my worry for her overcame my fear, but not my sense. I had to see, but I knew I couldn't help. I didn't even have a weapon, and mages were never trained in the martial arts or ancient weapons. Arrogant pride no doubt, I'd only asked once and that hadn't been a good day.

I couldn't help it, and I moved enough to peek over the desk. Her fur was singed, and a few wounds oozed with blood, but she was fighting against two very fast-moving female enemies dressed in black leather bodysuits. One was about five foot six with dark brown hair and light golden tanned skin. The other was a shorter blonde with fair barely sun-kissed skin. I couldn't really make out more than that, they moved too fast. Probably another reason mages didn't fight with hands or weapons, we were too damned slow in comparison to the other races.

They were both good, and they moved incredibly fast. Yesenia scored them a few times, but the black leather skintight armor they wore prevented her claws from getting too deep. They were also wickedly fast, and at two on one their attacks were taking a toll on my protector.

It took my mind a minute to catch up, neither of these had been throwing fireballs around. It was only when one stopped long enough for me to see the long eyeteeth and short wicked claws on their fingertips, that my mind made the connection.

Vampires.

In my defense, it was also the middle of the damned day. They must've had sunlight blocking spells on them from their mage allies. Someone really wanted my clan dead.

Not only had my father drawn the ire of another mage clan, but we were being attacked by a vampire clan as well. No doubt the former was taking down my extended family while the latter took care of the shifters in our employ. It had to be that. Vampires were too proud to become mercenaries. The idea the attacking mage clan had hired them was ridiculous. It was no doubt a temporary alliance to take down my clan.

One on one a shifter might take down a vampire, if they could pin them down and tear their head off. Vampires healed even faster than shifters did, and at two on one there was no way she'd be able to pin one of them down long enough to take their head off or dig out their heart.

Vampires weren't exactly undead. They were warm flesh and blood unlike most tales, but they weren't exactly alive either. Their bodies were in a kind of spelled stasis in the moment before their death during their transition. The magic didn't so much heal them, but it restored them to that moment in time of their transition. That made them immortal as far as unageing, and extremely tough, but the dark magic required an ongoing and endless sacrifice of living blood to feed it and empower the vampire. Blood recharged their power and made them strong, but age was also a determinant. The longer the dark curse lived in a vampire the stronger it became in potential.

Vampires also had the power of compulsion which was temporary, and blood enthrallment, which was permanent. They were just a little faster than shifters, but not nearly as strong. Lastly, some rare few did have the power to shift into a silver wolf or bat, but it wasn't a common ability at all.

The reason the sun was so deadly for a vampire was the curse that created them was dark magic, which unraveled violently under the purifying light of the sun. By violently, I mean they went up like a pyre of flames and burned to ash in short order without spelled protections.

Under that they were just people. Just... people with a whole lot of power willing to prey on humanity to live, and extremely dangerous nocturnal predators.

Shifter magic was life, and natural. They shifted away wounds, and they could become a single animal based on their bloodline. Their quick healing wasn't really healing either, they shifted wounds away. Their magic came back with rest, and a whole lot of food consumption.

So the fight depended on who ran out of magic first, or the destruction of head or heart, but two against one made the results of that fight far too likely.

A mage would have a much better chance, especially a fire mage. Too bad I was powerless. I tried, I really did. The elements, psionic, void, life, death, nature, and creation magic. But my magic remained stubbornly impotent in my chest.

The moment I'd dreaded finally arrived, Yesenia's wounds had been taking longer and longer to heal, and she'd been slowing down. Then the dark brown haired one tacked her from the side and pinned her body down long enough for the short blonde to dart in and violently twist the head.

The loud crack of my lover's neck filled the room, and drew a horrified, "NO!" of denial from my lips. Gods, Yesenia had been larger than life, it seemed the deepest sacrilege that her body lied dead on the floor.

I felt like a total coward and a huge surge of guilt ran through me, while at the same time I knew if I'd tried to help her that I'd have just gotten her killed even faster.

Both vampires snapped their heads in my direction, and then the blonde lunged with a hiss and a look of insane rage in her blue eyes as I shoved into the wall behind me.

The dark-haired brunette said sharply in command, "Hold, Regina!"

I'll admit I was terrified. I could feel the blonde's claws against my neck as the short five foot three woman held me effortlessly off my feet and against the wall by the neck. She was a cute and short blonde bombshell, with D cups, and maybe five foot three. Fair skin, soft heart shaped face. If I didn't know better, I'd have said she was in her second year of college, and probably a cheerleader.

She asked, "Katrina?"

Katrina said, "This one is a powerless servant, and I'm in need of a new blood servant after Andrei's loss of temper. He isn't hard on the eyes either, and a fight always gets my blood burning."

My eyes widened in horror at that idea. A blood bond would make me little better than a mindless adoring slave. If looks could kill, I'd be totally safe, yet they both kept refusing to go up in flames.

Katrina was a few inches taller than the blonde, at five foot six. Her body was on the lithe side of average with pert generous B cups high up on her body and lovely hourglass curves. Her face had a classical beauty, with strong cheekbones and full lips. She had that lovely light golden tanned skin with dark brown hair and dark chocolate eyes. There was a regal grace to her movements and carriage that told me she was very old and possibly came from nobility of some kind in the dim past. Her face, presence, graceful movement, and carriage spoke more toward confidence and knowing her own value, as opposed to the empty arrogance I'd expect most vampires displayed.

Her eyes were stunningly expressive, and she was truly beautiful. Fuck... she was a bitch that just killed Yesenia, but it was too late to look away and that anger and fear bled away like water down a drain. My eyes were already ensnared by hers and I could feel the compulsion digging into my mind. At that point, I hardly even noticed the hot blonde bombshell holding me up against the wall, all that existed was those gorgeous chocolate eyes set in the most beautiful and regal face I'd ever seen.

It wasn't a surprise either, that they were both stunning in their own ways. I said earlier vampires were mostly human under the curse, but ones willing to prey and feed on humanity to avoid death. That wasn't wholly true, and only completely true for master vampires at the head of a clan.

Turned vampires were very rarely given the choice, and they were usually chosen for their beauty. Once turned, the master vampire had an automatic blood enthrallment to their vampire child. The other clan vampires literally didn't have a choice in doing what they were told, or in determining where the vampire clan went or what they did. They had some free will of course, most of their decisions were theirs in fact, or they'd be useless things that couldn't make decisions in a complicated and liquid situation and constantly changing world. Still, I imagined the first command they were all given was to drink to live.