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Adrian's Bodyguard (Vampires of Vadin Book 1)
Adrian's Bodyguard (Vampires of Vadin Book 1) Read online
CONTENTS
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
Epilogue
About Shelby Rhodes
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Copyright © 2022 by Shelby Rhodes
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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First edition
Ebook ISBN: B0BLTJM6KK
Paperback ISBN: 9798362690243
Hardback ISBN: 9798362789503
Editing: Emma Luna at Moonlight Author Services
Cover Design: Jahla D. Brown
Formatting: Emma Luna at Moonlight Author Services
Vampire King, Adrian Bloodhart has faced many challenges in the thousands of years he's been reigning. However, he had thought he'd moved past the stage of his life that was littered with assassination attempts. And as if the attacks weren't irritating enough, he finds himself saddled with a personal bodyguard he doesn't feel he needs or even wants.
When Xavier Dayden had agreed to guard King Adrian, he had expected to be guarding a mature adult, what he got was a petulant child. Adrian is odd as hell and too sexy for Xavier's peace of mind. When Xavier finds his control slipping, he's conflicted. Giving in could lead to so much more than a one-night stand, but was it worth the possible heartbreak?
The choice is made when tragedy strikes where it is least expected and as Adrian's walls crack and fall Xavier is there to pick up the pieces. Through the heartache, love is finally in their grasp.
Dedicated to my friends and family.
Without you all I wouldn't have made it this far.
Adrian Silvermore Bloodhart, King of Vadin, or Vampire King as some preferred, was having an absolutely decadent dream—about possibly the hottest elf he had ever seen—when suddenly he found himself wide awake. It was unusual, as he typically slept through the night.
He supposed the idea a vampire would sleep the night away would sound ridiculous to the humans living in the First Realm. Then again, they were still completely unaware of the existence of other realms—which also meant they knew almost nothing about the various humanoid species living within them. Probably for the best…humans did tend to want to kill what they don't understand.
Humans did have folklore about some of them, of course. Most of it was caused by a few jackasses who couldn’t behave themselves. However, much of the lore about vampires—along with that about a few of the other immortal species—was for the most part incorrect. Vampires were not allergic to the sun, and most found garlic quite tasty. He supposed they had gotten a few things right—the name, their advanced abilities, and their need for blood, though vampires also needed actual food to survive.
Oh, and the one about cutting off a vampire’s head—which, if you thought about it logically, would kill almost anyone. It was a bit difficult to live without a brain, though he had met a few immortals who made him wonder.
Of course, most of that didn’t really matter at the moment—except perhaps the losings one’s head part, as he currently was in danger of losing his.
There was a rather large man, judging from the shape, standing by his bed. He was also holding a formidable-looking sword. It appeared as if he had stopped mid-swing; Adrian could only assume his assailant hadn’t expected him to be awake. Whatever the reason, Adrian was extremely grateful to have caught him in time—he was quite attached to his head.
Over six feet tall with plenty of bulk, the man was wearing what he could only describe as a dollar-store ninja costume. Cheap was what it was, and a bit tacky—which, again, was not really important. However, Adrian found it insulting. The man had come to kill a king, for heaven’s sake. The very least he could have done was dress nicely for the occasion.
When the man snapped out of his stupor and tried to swing again, Adrian rolled out of the way. He let out a grunt as he landed on the hard floor of his bedroom. He would have to remind himself to get a soft rug of some sort later.
He jumped to his feet, pushed his long black hair back, and glared at his would-be assassin. “You couldn’t have waited a few more minutes? Honestly, I had the man’s clothes off, and he was just about to give me the ri—” The man lunged at him, ending his rant mid-word.
After dodging his attack, Adrian promptly punched him in the face—and down the man went. He found the crunch when he connected quite satisfying.
Adrian tapped his foot impatiently and waited. Unfortunately, nothing happened. Where the hell were the guards? The spells cast around the castle should have alerted them immediately at the first hint of danger. Not to mention this idiot assassin was currently screaming bloody murder, rolling around on the floor, clutching his broken nose. Probably a spell, he thought with irritation. Adrian sniffed the air—yep, there were definitely some magical residues that didn’t belong.
Apparently done whining about his broken nose, the man attacked again. Instead of engaging him physically, Adrian held out his hand and sent a jolt of energy that slammed his assassin into the wall. Adrian smiled as the man fell to the floor with a thud—why get sweaty when he didn’t have to?
He would say this: as much as he hated his grandfather, he was thankful he had inherited telekinesis from him. It often put him at an advantage over those physically stronger than him—many found it a bit difficult to attack someone when floating in the air. Though, it was always entertaining to watch them try. Yes, telekinesis was useful, though it was not an ability shared by many.
There were a multitude of different immortals living in the Second and Third Realms. Most had abilities that set them apart from each other, though the Third Realm was predominantly occupied by the oldest of their kind. If compared to humans, they did have increased speed, strength, eyesight, hearing, and so on, but that was only when compared to them. Those aspects became insignificant when everyone had them.
What immortals considered noteworthy were the abilities not shared between species. For instan
ce, a shifter’s ability to…well, shift. Vampires—depending on how powerful they were—could control another’s mind, and hide, replace, erase, and share memories. Abilities could be shared when two species mixed—though rarely did they do so for vampires.
However, some immortals—most often through recessive genes unique to certain bloodlines—were born with what many considered special abilities. His royal bloodline happened to have a scattering of special abilities throughout, and it was very uncommon for a family member to be born without one.
He forced himself to focus back on his attacker, who was currently trying to get back up. Adrian scoffed. “Did you honestly think physical strength would be enough to kill me?”
Adrian tsked when the man lunged again. He sure was a persistent bastard. Holding up his hand once again—using more power than was wise—he sent his attacker careening toward the wall. Except, instead of hitting the wall as he’d done the first time, he crashed through it—the man went right through the wood paneling and stone walls of his bedroom, all the way into the hallway. The sound of broken stone and wood clattering onto the marble floor of the corridor caused Adrian to wince.
Great, now he had a fucking hole in his bedroom wall. Well, at least the guards had finally realized something was wrong. He could hear them clambering down the hallway to investigate the noise.
“Arrest him,” Adrian ordered as he blankly stared at the hole in his wall. It was an irritant that he would, of course, have to deal with.
He ran his hands through his hair in frustration—his head ached just thinking about it. It most likely would take a ridiculous amount of time to fix. The castle was considered a historic building, and any construction done on it would have to be approved by the council. Specifically, by Councilman Cedrick Cage, who was in charge of kingdom wide historic preservation. The man would insist on approving every tiny detail himself. Not only that, he would probably insist on being present for the entire process, which was entirely unfortunate for Adrian. His would-be assassin truly had bad timing, as Cedrick was away—he was directing a restoration project in Arcadia at the Arcadian kings’ request—and wouldn’t be back for at least a month.
He huffed in irritation. He really wanted to throw the asshole around again. Adrian was honestly more irritated about the hole in his wall than the fact that a man just tried to kill him. He briefly wondered if his priorities were a bit out of whack. “Nah,” he murmured and discarded the thought.
Stepping through the hole, he found himself face to face with Baylin, the Captain of his guards. Considering it was the middle of the night, Baylin was rather overdressed in his opinion. His black slacks and a white button down appear way too together. The man’s short black hair was expertly swept back, perfectly framing his sharp features. Only his gray eyes appeared tired. Hands folded behind his back, the man looked rather irritated himself, and Adrian was wondering why until he noticed that not only was his assassin gone, so were many of the guards.
He must have zoned out and lost track of time. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done so—wouldn’t be the last time, either. Baylin had probably called his name multiple times before giving up and leaving him to his musings.
“King Adrian, we found a multitude of spells interfering with our alert system. Also found were spells aimed at restricting your abilities, along with one to keep you asleep. Fortunately, neither seems to have affected you.”
Adrian’s eyebrows rose at the use of his title. He supposed it was for the benefit of the few remaining guards. Baylin tended to drop it when they were alone, or upset…or when he was lecturing. Actually, he thought snidely, any semblance of respect seemed to go out the window when the man was lecturing him. Despite Adrian being about three thousand years older, Baylin treated him like a child at times. But he thought of the man as family—Baylin had been more of a father to him than his real father had ever been—so he allowed it.
“The spells were probably too weak to affect me. There are some benefits to being almost ten thousand years old. It does, however, explain why the man looked so surprised to find me awake,” he stated nonchalantly.
“In detail, what happened?”
He remained silent as he stared at the man in front of him. With each passing second, Baylin began to fidget more and more as he waited for Adrian to answer. He couldn’t help but grin at the response. The man really needed to loosen up a bit. When Baylin had married Kellin, he had hoped he would have—at least a little bit—but he hadn’t. He supposed Baylin’s uptight nature was beneficial to him in some ways. Irritating Baylin had become one of his favorite hobbies, or maybe it was just a habit. A habit that sometimes ended in a lecture—but it was still worth it, as it was an excellent way to entertain himself when bored.
However, an assassination attempt was not the time to do so. So, he wouldn’t push the man—well, not too much anyway.
Adrian shrugged. “I was attacked.”
Baylin’s left eye began to twitch. “And?”
He grinned widely. “He missed.”
“Adrian!” Baylin snapped with exasperation. Adrian couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up. “Really, Adrian, this is not the time to laugh and joke around. Someone tried to kill you!”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” He quickly explained what happened.
“Is that all?”
“Yes, it was a rather short fight. He made the mistake that many amateurs do; he didn’t have another plan when his first failed. The man also failed to research his target. If he had, he would have known that physical strength alone wouldn’t be enough to kill me. He should have run when I first opened my eyes. Simply sloppy. Back in my day, assassins wer—”
“This is not the time to reminisce about the good old days of competent assassins. And you sure as hell shouldn’t wish for them back!” Baylin shouted.
“I was just—”
“No!”
“But—”
Baylin growled. “No!” There was a clear warning in his voice this time.
“Fine! Let’s just go interrogate the prisoner!” Adrian huffed and stomped off down the corridor.
Baylin rubbed his face in exasperation as Adrian ran off. Three in the morning was way too early to be dealing with this shit. Suppressing a yawn, he started to follow but froze at what he saw. His eyes widened when he took in Adrian’s state of dress—dear God, the man was only wearing a pair of skimpy boxer briefs. How the hell had he missed that? “Adrian, get back here and put some clothes on!”
At his shout, Adrian paused. Turning around, he stuck his tongue out before he continued on his way. Baylin took a deep breath and hurriedly grabbed a pair of pants from Adrian’s room—at the very least, the man could put some damn pants on.
God, the man was incorrigible at times, not to mention immature. Though lately, he had been taking it to the extreme. Baylin was afraid Adrian was starting to close himself off from the people around him, something that seemed to happen every few hundred years or so. It, however, appeared to be worse this time. With each passing year, Adrian hid more behind a mask of playfulness and fake smiles. The king’s playful nature—which had most likely kept him sane all these years—was becoming more of a defense mechanism. Baylin feared the king was growing tired of life, and he was beginning to worry about the man’s mental health.
Baylin started chuckling at the thought. Who was he kidding? He had always worried about Adrian’s mental health. The man was odd as hell—his thinking had always been slightly off. There had been nothing fake about the interaction he just had with him. It had been Adrian in all his true glory. Knowing the man as well as he did, Baylin snorted; Adrian most likely wasn’t fazed by the assassination attempt. No, he was probably worrying about the damn hole in his wall.
Baylin would just have to keep an eye on the situation. If Adrian’s condition worsened, he would take the appropriate actions to break him out of it.
He supposed there was one benefit to Adrian acting like a child at times. His e
nemies often underestimated him—they mistook his kindness, his playfulness, and his easy smile for weakness—and his looks only enforced that misunderstanding.
While most vampires stopped aging at around thirty, Adrian looked as if he were in his early twenties. And at five foot seven, not many would consider him an imposing figure. With his long, straight black hair, porcelain skin, lean muscles, delicate features, and large violet eyes speckled with gold, many considered Adrian a beautiful man. However, beauty aside, he looked almost too innocent to rule a kingdom.
Many of his past enemies had made the mistake of thinking Adrian lacked the strength to hold on to his crown. Their ignorance usually, more often than not, led to a very violent death. In their rush for power, they missed the cold fury lurking under the surface. Adrian would not hesitate to brutally and unmercifully strike down an enemy. Having known Adrian for quite a few millennia, Baylin knew he was not someone to be trifled with.
Pushing those thoughts away, Baylin hurried down the hall to catch up with his king. When he caught up, he tossed a pair of pants at the man and waited as he put them on. He decided not to lecture Adrian on proper dress. Even if his current state was highly inappropriate, and irritated him to no end, it was not worth the headache at the moment.
“After the interrogation, I’ll write to the head of the closest Zaytari group. They will all have to be contacted eventually. The council, as well, but they can wait until more is known. It’s quite possible the investigation will lead to multiple arrests all over the kingdom.” Baylin blinked in confusion when Adrian laughed. “And what is so funny?”