Blood Drug: A Blood Novel, #1

By Aleera Anaya Ceres

With her parents murdered in front of her, Esmeralda had nowhere else to go…until Damien Santiago saved her from the Rogue attack at her home all those years ago and took her to live in secret with his vampire Coven.

Ten years later and Esmeralda is still grateful that Damien saved her. So grateful that she agrees to become his fiancée and let him Change her on their wedding day. But all her decisions are put to the test when she meets Damien's scarred twin brother, Antonio, who sparks a flame inside of her, bringing out an old sibling rivalry and forcing her to question everything she thought she knew.

Ever since Antonio's arrival, nothing has been the same as he tries to convince Esmeralda that there was more to her parents' murder, more that she didn't know that everyone has been hiding from her. Just what exactly does Antonio Santiago know about the night her parents were murdered? And why is he the only one in the Coven not forcing her to forget about the past?

It seems Antonio has secrets thicker than the scar around his neck, and Esmeralda is determined to find out the truth.

*This book was previously published in 2018 and has since then been revised.*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aleera Anaya Ceres
• Release date: Mar 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201133351

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With her parents murdered in front of her, Esmeralda had nowhere else to go…until Damien Santiago saved her from the Rogue attack at her home all those years ago and took her to live in secret with his vampire Coven.

Ten years later and Esmeralda is still grateful that Damien saved her. So grateful that she agrees to become his fiancée and let him Change her on their wedding day. But all her decisions are put to the test when she meets Damien’s scarred twin brother, Antonio, who sparks a flame inside of her, bringing out an old sibling rivalry and forcing her to question everything she thought she knew.

Ever since Antonio’s arrival, nothing has been the same as he tries to convince Esmeralda that there was more to her parents’ murder, more that she didn’t know that everyone has been hiding from her. Just what exactly does Antonio Santiago know about the night her parents were murdered? And why is he the only one in the Coven not forcing her to forget about the past?

It seems Antonio has secrets thicker than the scar around his neck, and Esmeralda is determined to find out the truth.

This book was previously published in 2018 and has since been revised.

This book is a sequel to Love Bites and is an Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance novel

Blood Drug, A Blood Novel

Copyright © 2020, Aleera Anaya Ceres

Cover Art by Moorbooks Design

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Aleera Anaya Ceres

Prologue

There was a small rap on the front door.

Tap, tap.

Ignacio Ortiz stared at it, then back at his wife. Now who could that be? The question hung thick in the air between them.

No one should be knocking on their door at two in the morning; no one knew their location. The tapping continued, louder this time, followed by a scratch. He cast a panicked glance at his wife and his daughter.

Silent words of communication passed between them. He didn’t need to send his thoughts into her mind in order for her to understand what he meant. Get the girl and go.

He watched as Katheryn picked up Esmeralda in her arms and made her way towards the staircase. I love you. He made sure her mind had picked up the thought before he turned back to the door.

It started to rattle and shake uncontrollably just before it split down the middle, like cracking ice, and burst inwards, chunks of wood flying against the floors. The windows framing either side shattered as well and he braced himself as at least a dozen Rogues poured into his home, fangs bared, red eyes hungry.

Katheryn never should have looked back.

The image of her husband being attacked by Rogues nearly sent her tripping clumsily up the steps. Luckily, she kept her balance.

Her daughter was secured in her arms, face buried deep into her shirt. She wasn’t crying, and Katheryn could’ve burst with pride, but there was no time for that. They needed to get somewhere safe, somewhere hidden.

At the top of the stairs, she ran down the narrow hallway until she reached her bedroom door. With a quick wiggle of the knob, it burst open.

A hiding spot, she thought, I need a hiding spot! She put Esmeralda on the floor and pulled her over to the doors of the big mahogany closet. She shoved aside the piles of clothes and felt against the wood for the secret panel in the back.

Ezzy, honey, listen to me, okay? She tried to keep her voice even, so as not to frighten the girl. The monsters are coming and I need you to hide in here. Don’t come out until your daddy or I come to get you, do you understand?

She nodded. Katheryn sighed in relief, planted a kiss on her forehead and helped her behind the wooden panel.

If we don’t come back, she said, Tony will save you, okay? Ezzy nodded again. She knew what Katheryn meant. She was a smart girl, though small for her age, and if there was a chance that Ignacio and herself didn’t make it, she knew one person who would find Esmeralda and keep her safe. He had to.

After securing the door closed, she turned back around and braced herself. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the Rogues came up to find her. Although she had complete faith in her husband’s fighting abilities, there was no way he could take on so many at once. She swallowed her tears and reached for the gun in her holster.

Thump, thump. Footsteps. SCREEEEEEECH. She held the gun out in front of her, waiting. CRASH! Was that a body? She tried signaling her husband through their mind link; nothing. Tears fell down her cheeks, her heart pounded, and the gun wavered with every tremor that wracked through her body. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Footsteps. Squeak. The knob to the door turned, slowly. When it opened, red eyes greeted her.

She didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

Esmeralda tried

to peek through the cracks, to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Her mother had told her to stay put, that they’d be back for her, but when would that be?

She knew that something bad was happening; she just wasn’t exactly sure what.

She peeked through a crack and caught a flash of red silky strands. Her mother’s hair, she assumed. Then she heard a loud pop that made her flinch, followed by a struggle and some screaming. She pressed a small ear to the wood; someone was talking. Peeking out again, she stifled a scream. A pair of red eyes were staring directly at her.

She shot back in the closet, and this time she let herself cry. She wanted her mommy, her daddy. She wanted Tony.

There was another loud noise, a thump, like something falling to the ground, and then there was silence. A silence so deafening that it just made her want to scream, to give the air some form of normalcy.

The door to the closet burst open, as did the panel that she was hidden behind. This time, Esmeralda did scream as a bloody hand reached in and pulled her out by the shirt. She kicked, and fought, she tried clawing at the person before a familiar voice whispered something to her.

Shh, Esmeralda, it’s all right.

She wiped away the tears from her eyes and looked up. A man whose face she had seen millions of times was holding on to her. His clothes were torn, covered in specks of blood. There was something different about him, though; something about his milk chocolate eyes. They didn’t look like they normally did. It’s okay, he said. I’m here. He pulled her into a hug and kept her head pressed deeply in his shirt with the palm of his hand. Don’t look, he whispered. Relax.

Esmeralda felt safe in his arms and, surprisingly, she was able to relax before everything went black.

1

Esmeralda never had vivid recollections of her past; she could only ever recall fragments of it, small pieces here and there. They’d come in flashes during her sleep, and she’d find herself waking up, screaming. The only true remembrance in her mind was a Mahogany closet; red, like the blood on the floors or the sinister eyes that she caught a glimpse of from within her hiding spot.

There was a man that she called father and a woman known as her mother; dead, murdered when she was eight-years-old, by Rogues. That much she knew for sure. The dream would always be the same, but if she thought too hard, dug too deep into her memories, the blackouts would happen, and she’d wake up again, everything forgotten. Not even an image to show what once was.

But there was one thing that she remembered about that night. She had been saved. He had pulled her from the closet, kicking and screaming. All she could see were those red eyes, burnt into her mind. But his eyes, those deep chocolate eyes; he was different. He had stroked her hair with a bloody hand, told her that his name was Damien Santiago.

The red eyed one was gone, head severed from his body, on the floor. She couldn’t remember that part, but that’s what the coven had told her when they took her in.

He took Esmeralda to his mansion, where the Coven lived, a place where humans weren’t allowed. She was the exception. They raised her there, hidden from the cruel world. She was their precious little secret for vampires weren’t allowed to harbor humans—even harboring one would arouse suspicions—within their walls and if word ever got out that they were hiding her, war between covens would be waged.

And although they were very strict towards her, they never treated her with anything other than respect. In a way, she thought, they even spoiled her. She had her own private tutor, Maria—Damien’s younger sister—to make up for the fact that she didn’t attend school, and they promised that she would be homeschooled at a college level from within the safety of the mansion walls. Hell, they had even given her a credit card so that she could buy her necessities online and have them personally delivered to her bedroom. She had no complaints towards the Coven. After all, they had taken great care of her all of these years.

They had promised her that she would be changed on the day of her eighteenth birthday, by the man she was to marry, by her Soul Mate

Vampires were ruled by a virus in their system and said the virus had the power to react to someone else’s DNA, recognizing them as their mate.

She had thought of those red eyes and she thought of those brown eyes. Damien, they said, was her Soul Mate. It was fate, it was meant to be. She was raised to believe that, and the closeness she had once felt with Damien just made it seem better, perfect.

She had developed feelings for him, but there was a small sliver of doubt in her mind. It was probably due to the fact that he was so hot and cold. Moody, she had thought on more than one occasion, erratic. There were times when he was sweet, sending her flowers and complimenting her eyes but other times when he’d glare and lecture her on her childishness.

Maybe his usually petulant attitude was a result of Damien hardly ever being around. He promoted the Synthetic Blood for vampires that his family had created to different countries around the world. It could have been the jetlag, she thought humorously, and wondered, more than once, if it was a permanent ailment.

Esmeralda did envy him sometimes. If only she could get out, explore, experience jetlag, but she knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

What do you think of this dress?

She looked up, snapping out of her reverie. Her best friend, Isis, was standing in front of a full length mirror, smiling at Esmeralda. She was wearing a long purple and black dress that hugged her tightly at the waist, with sleeves that reached past her fingertips and a neckline so indecent that her chest practically spilled out of it. Her skirt was long and flowing, covering up her black heels. There were slits on either side of the dress that cut up all the way to her thighs, showing off her muscular legs and mocha skin. She did a little twirl, revealing that the dress had no back.

Esmeralda sighed. You look like you just stepped out of a gothic porn star magazine, she mumbled lazily, if a little self-consciously.

The truth was, Isis was beautiful with her brown skin and long jet-black hair. Isis was a woman with full curves and cat-like dark eyes and wore dark lipstick.

You have a lot of experience with gothic porn, do you? Isis looked pleased with her clever retort. She twirled back to the mirror and admired her work, the dress flowing along with her movements.

Esmeralda sighed. How was it, she wondered, that Isis could wear clothes like that almost every day without feeling insecure? She shook off those thoughts.

What can I say? she said on a sigh. I like my men in eyeliner.

Isis threw her head back and let out a sultry laugh. I’ll make sure to pass along that tip to Damien.

This time, it was Esmeralda’s turn to laugh, although it died down faster than her friend’s had when she bitterly added: If he ever decides to show up. It had been a month since she’d last seen him and she had stopped bothering to hold on to the hope of his sudden return.

What are you wearing to the party? Isis asked, to change the subject no doubt, and eyed Esmeralda suspiciously.

Esmeralda shrugged. I bought that grey dress online. She pointed to the chair behind Isis that the plain dress was flung over. Isis let her gaze wander to where Esmeralda had indicated and let out a noise that sounded like she was choking on a… well, Esmeralda didn’t let herself finish that sentence.

"You’re not wearing that, are you? It’s completely ghastly."

"Well, I don’t have any other dresses, and it took me forever to find that one," she complained. Esmeralda wasn’t one for dresses. Hell, she barely wore skirts and sundresses. All she had in her closet were jeans, sweats, tights, and T-shirts. There had never been an occasion to wear anything fancy, considering the Coven never let her leave the mansion. Ever.

Isis made another impatient noise and eyed Esmeralda up and down. I have a dress that would look perfect on you. She practically ran out the door before calling a quick be right back over her shoulder. Seconds later, she was back in the room, a folded white piece of fabric in her hands.

Your clothes would never fit me. Esmeralda pointed out, eyeing Isis’s inappropriate neckline thoughtfully.

Trust me, she smiled. This is perfect for you.

About half an hour later,

Esmeralda stood in front of the mirror, Isis at her side, gaping at her own reflection. The dress that Isis had picked out did indeed fit her, surprisingly so.

It was a long Victorian style champagne colored dress, with laced up cuffs that hung past her fingertips. The neckline was decent, as was the top that was laced up tightly with black satin ribbons, nearly choking all of the air out of her chest. It clung to her body, catching the smooth curves of her hips. A large black bow was tied behind her waist, where the back bunched up in folds down to the floor.

She looked like a completely different person. Her usually nappy, burnt red hair was pinned up in an elegant bun with beautiful shiny barrettes. Some strands were loose and curling down the back of her neck and on the sides of her cheeks while her bangs were neatly combed off to the side. Her eyes were smudged with very little makeup and her cheeks looked rosy and healthy. And her eyes, they looked like a very vibrant, metallic blue, shining back at her in the mirror. Where’d you get this dress? she asked curiously as Isis finished pinning up a lock of Esmeralda’s stubborn hair.

It was mine in the 1800’s, she said between a mouthful of hair pins.

I thought you were a servant during that time? Esmeralda pointed out, considering the rich elegance of the dress. Isis was old, really old. She was alive when the Romans took over Egypt; at least, that’s what Isis had told Esmeralda. And she had supposedly been many things throughout her lifetime.

Though sometimes, when Esmeralda would ask her best friend about her past, her shoulders would tense up for a moment before she launched on with crazy stories about gypsies and thievery and a million and one other things as casually as she could. Although, Esmeralda knew that there was a possibility that Isis wasn’t being completely honest.

Oh, I was. I stole that from my employer. She waved off Esmeralda’s wide-eyed look. They were rich, or they pretended to be. They spent their money without a care, always bought expensive stuff that they really didn’t want or need, just to prove to everyone that they could. So I thought ‘Hey, I’m taking this. It won’t be missed!’ So, I took it and have kept it. She paused, her dark eyes glowing, as if recalling a pleasant memory. Anyway, she continued, taking the pins out of her mouth. They went bankrupt shortly after, so I left. She waved her hand around in a dramatic gesture. Are you ready? They’re waiting for us.

Esmeralda groaned. Can’t we just stay here?

"No. It’s your birthday party; you have to go." Her tone said ‘stop arguing with me before I bite you’ but Esmeralda really didn’t want to waste her time going to a party that reminded her of the bad circumstances of her life.

The Coven liked to celebrate on the day that she had arrived here, and called it a birthday party, but Esmeralda hated it. It only reminded her of the fact that she couldn’t remember anything about her old life, like her real birthday. It was all just a hassle.

Let’s go, said Isis. I’m getting hungry. The vampire’s eyes flashed red for a split second, so fast that Esmeralda barely caught a glimpse of it. Still, it sent chills down her spine. She stopped arguing and followed Isis out the door.

2

Esmeralda was blinded immediately as she stepped near the banister. The entire ballroom was decorated in nothing but white. White streamers and lights dangled from the dimly lit chandelier, below were white table cloths flung over long rectangular tables, each one containing wine glasses, each filled with a thick red liquid. White bows, white signs, and even white rugs. Someone had gone overboard with the decorations. It appeared as though the entire room had been covered in blankets of snow.

It reminded Esmeralda of a wedding, and that made her sick to her stomach. She turned to Isis. It’s so…white. She whispered with horror. It’s disgusting, she added mentally.

Oh, it’s fine. Isis gripped her wrist and pulled her down the long staircase where the party had already started.

Soft jazz music was playing from a nearby stereo system, and members from the coven were either swaying to the music or clustered together, drinking.

A sense of insecurity passed over her. They were all so beautiful with long, elegant dresses in a multitude of colors and their movements were so graceful and quick. It reminded her of the swiftness of ballerinas she’d seen on the Michael von Angel opera channel once.

She turned stiffly to Isis. We can leave anytime; how about now?

Isis clicked her tongue, which Esmeralda assumed meant no. Sighing heavily, she followed her friend towards the crowd, who all stopped to congratulate her on her big day.

She plastered on a fake smile, thanked them, and tried her best to get away from them and the rising anxiety in her chest, but somehow Isis seemed to pull her back into the mob.

When she finally squeezed past them and fled to an empty spot near a table, Isis at her side, she breathed in heavily. Thank god she was out. She breathed in through her nostrils, the metallic smell of blood assaulting her senses; it was overwhelming and made her temples pound.

You okay?

Esmeralda swallowed and nodded at her best friend. Yeah, I’m fine. She was so used to the comfort and solitude of her own bedroom that crowds—especially red-eyed vampire crowds—made her head spin. There was no use telling Isis that. Not because her friend didn’t care about her comfort, but because she was always pushing Esmeralda to get out of the box she locked herself in. To try new things and try and force away her anxiety.

Isis gave her a brisk nod before turning and leaving Esmeralda standing there alone. Esmeralda stared after her friend anxiously. Isis swayed down the dance floor, catching the disapproving eye of a few vampire women.

They had always disapproved of Isis’s behavior. She was too wild given her old age, they thought. She watched as Isis approached a handsome, broad shouldered male with dark hair, and threw her arms around his neck before planting an opened mouth kiss on his lips.

The PDA should have made Esmeralda uncomfortable, but all it gave her was an inexplicable ache in her chest.

Isis had many lovers—eight—and she seemed to like them all equally. The current one she was with pulled her out of Esmeralda’s line of vision and disappeared somewhere, leaving Esmeralda completely alone.

A sudden emptiness hollowed a place in her chest as she stared at the Coven members celebrating her ‘birthday party’ happily without her. Watching them dance and talk, every movement, every twirl of the hair was like witnessing a masterpiece being painted on a canvas, one lovely stroke at a time.

Slowly, the music drifted, changed into a waltz and couples gathered, arms around each other to move around the floor together. If only she could dance, she wished. If only she had someone to dance with. Watching the couples