Grave Sight | A Reverse Harem Romance

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕪 𝕆𝕟𝕖

That night, I left Lucian unsupervised in my home to go visit Kieran at the club. He told me that I didn't need to dress up. In fact, he told me that he would prefer me to dress down. When I asked him why, he responded by telling me some bullshit about vampire training, and left it at that.

I didn't even have to wait in line. Mateo came and grabbed me, hauling me to the front of the line while completely ignoring the obvious distaste everyone in that line suddenly felt for me.

By the time we were at the front, I heard over four people say something about my outfit - which was at least all black - and a few people mutter something about me being a blood whore.

I didn't even look the part of a blood whore. They wore the least amount of fabric they could and still call it an outfit, and had multiple scars all over their bodies. Vampires could heal the bites they inflicted on humans with their saliva, but most of the blood whores liked the scarring.

I had no scars, and I was wearing leggings and a t-shirt.

Mateo brought me inside, moving through the crowd with an ease only someone who frequented there would have. If I tried, I'd bump into so many bodies they'd think I was trying to get with everyone in my path.

He opened the blood sharing room door and my eyes immediately moved anywhere but at the bodies.

"Squeamish around sex?" Mateo continued to pull me like I was some sort of dog on a leash.

My lips curled down. "No. I just think it should be done in the privacy of your own home. Or a hotel. Or a car, if you're feeling really frisky."

He burst out laughing. "Ooo, feeling really frisky, huh? Car sex is frisky, Nova?"

I hated him.

"Here you go," Mateo said, not to me, but to Kieran as he deposited me unceremoniously into his office. "One squeamish half vampire."

I had half a mind to kick him so hard in the crotch that his voice would permanently be six octaves higher for the rest of his eternal life.

When the door shut, I narrowed my eyes at Kieran. "I'll punch him one day."

He smiled. "And I can't wait until you do. Speaking of, that's why you're here."

I blinked. "To punch Mateo?"

"No." He shook his head. "To punch me."

He invited me into his club so that I would…punch him? As much as the offer made me want to do a happy dance and tell him I'd gladly punch him for all the shit he put me through - mainly the blood in the graveyard thing - I didn't think that was exactly why he had me come.

That's when I noticed he was dressed down too. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, which was certainly less dressy than the clothes I was used to seeing him in.

"Are you a sadist, Nova," he teased. "First you became overjoyed when you thought you hurt me in the graveyard, and now you look absolutely gleeful at the idea of punching me. Or is it that you don't much care for me?"

"You're a pain in the ass," I agreed. "But I'm not a sadist. Also, you're not as shitty as I first thought."

He hummed, and it was filled with an emotion I wasn't quite sure I wanted to figure out.

He turned and walked towards another door. "Come with me."

I followed behind, my eyes dropping to his ass just long enough to see that yes, he did indeed fill those sweatpants out nicely.

Fuck gray sweatpants, man. They could bring any girl to their knees on the right guy.

When we entered the next room, I had to orient myself with the sudden change of scenery. In his office, I could see out to both sides of the club. It looked like a regular office, with a desk and a computer and some extra furniture scattered about. But the room he took me into was bare. The floor was somewhat bouncy under my feet, and seemed to be made of something other than wood or concrete.

He didn't have to explain a thing. For some reason, the man had a sparring room attached to his office, which was attached to his club.

Because that made a whole lot of sense.

"I've met two half vampires before you," he said, shutting the door, successfully cutting off any and all sound from the outside. "Unlike you, they were half human."

I watched him as he walked farther into the room. He pulled his hair up into a ponytail before he turned back to me.

"Even half human vampires have powers." He motioned for me to come closer. "So a half necromancer, half vampire should technically have more."

I didn't want to fight him. I wasn't a fighter by any stretch of the imagination. If shit blew out of proportion, I let those people who knew how to fight do their thing. I didn't step in. It wasn't from fear, but from complete and utter lack of knowledge when it came to protecting anyone - myself included.

When I was in front of him, I crossed my arms. "I can't fight."

"Every vampire can fight."

"I'm not every vampire."

He nodded. "I agree. But you do have power, whether you want to see it or not."

"Why are you teaching me how to fight," I asked.

"Because," he pulled a remote out of his pocket and pressed a button, "you were threatened. Assume something happens to you when you're not around me or Lucian. What then? Are you just going to let them take you and do as they wish without fighting back?"

I believed that if it came to my life, I would try and fight. He had a point though. If I didn't know how to fight, all I'd do is flail around and hope for the best.

A wall of mirrors quietly raised from the floor to my right until it took over what used to be a plain wall. I saw Kieran in the reflection, and saw that his attention was on me.

He really was almost too pretty to be a male. His body was long and lean, with just enough muscle tone to show that he could, in fact, break you in half if he wanted to. His skin was paler than mine by only a few shades, but his made him look like marble. There were no scars marring his skin from what I could see, nor were there any tattoos.

His head turned enough for him to lock eyes with me in the mirror, and I turned away like he hadn't just caught me blatantly staring at him.

He deliberately lifted his shirt over his head and my first thought was proven wrong. He did have scarring, and it was rather large on his chest.

He had a jagged burn mark that had long since healed that ran from his right collar bone, down past his right nipple in the shape of a cross.

Being a half vampire, I could touch crosses and holy water with no problem. Full vampires couldn't, and it looked like that cross had been held there for a while before he was finally allowed the respite of release.

"Hunters," he explained when I couldn't tear my eyes away. "Back in the day, everything that wasn't human wasn't seen as a citizen. So the paranormal races were hunted."

There was still some prejudice between some humans and paranormals, but since I'd been alive it was widely known that any and all paranormals were to be considered citizens. Hunters still existed, but they were few and far between because hunting anything other than born and bred animals was illegal.

That gave me a hint at his age. It also told me that since he got out alive, the hunters more than likely didn't.

"They tried to burn the demon out of me with a cross," he continued, looking down at it. "Funnily enough, it only served to hurt me, and piss me off."

So he definitely killed them.

I reached up and touched the scar. It was rough against my fingertips, and I knew it would be there for the rest of eternity. A memory of what used to be, when vampires and the other paranormal races were viewed as nothing but monsters.

He allowed me to touch it, watching my fingers trail the raised skin until I had my fill.

"Now," he grabbed my wrist, "fight me."