(Author's Note: Yes, I realize this story has been rewritten. Sorry if you liked the old one; it's still there. My editor gave me some helpful pointers. She also said that I should turn this trilogy into full blown 3 or 4 novels, instead of a short series. She informed me that some vital information in the story needed to added. I have done so. She has proofed the prologue and the first three chapters. I will post the prologue. As soon as I get to the chapters, which I will post the first one once she proof reads it, they will be split into two parts (A & B). The reason is because the chapters are so long. I will let you know, also, that much has been changed. I hope you all like it. I know I am quite pleased with the results. Enjoy! - VioletTwilight)

Forbidden Passions

(A Hybrid Romance Trilogy)

Book 1 – Bloody Rose

Prologue:

My eyebrows were creased in sheer concentration as I scaled the gigantic brick wall of Blood Guardian Coven Manor. It was fortunate for me that there were ascending green vines that I could grab onto for assistance along the way. I was a persistent woman, on the hunt for him. My plans were to kill the bastard as soon as he was in my grasp.

The "bastard" I so blatantly speak of is a vampire, and not just any blood sucker, but a very powerful master. He and a member of his coven had taken everything from me - everyone - including my sanity.

November 22 - the very night in which my compassion had flown straight out of the window; the very night my heart had been brutally ripped from my chest.

I can recall every single and simple detail. It haunts me in my nightmares, when I'm able to sleep. It plagues my mind every moment I am awake. There is never any peace for me nowadays.

I was on my way home from buying groceries, that chilly November evening, when it happened. It was my daughter's fifth birthday. It was a special day, her special day.

My little Rosalyn woke me up bright and early that morning, wanting to go to the park after we finished our breakfast. It was right there, while I was pushing her gently on the swing, that she told me what she wanted for her present.

Most children her age begged for lots and lots of toys. Rosalyn did not; that was not how we had been raising our sweet angel. All my precious child had asked me was to cook her favorite dish for supper and to bake her a chocolate cake with pink icing and sprinkles. Pink was her favorite color. It had been, ever since the age of three.

"It's reminds me of a fairy princess." She would say to me. Her toddler pronunciations of the words with the letter R made me smile every time.

I'd kiss her tiny cheek and whisper, "You are Mommy's little fairy princess."

How was I to know that all those fond memories would end up becoming just that - fond memories?

I left approximately at five o'clock P.M. to buy whatever I needed at the market. My husband informed me that he would start supper while I was gone and before my parents arrived. We had invited them both over for dinner. Cake and ice cream would be served after.

In a hurry, I piled the cake mix, icing, sprinkles, and tub of vanilla and chocolate swirl ice cream into the cart. I paid for the items at the register, wished the cashier lady a good day, and marched out of the store.

It took me at least thirty minutes to get to my street, ironically enough, Elm Street. However, as I turned down the road, I caught an unnerving sight in my driveway and gasped in panic. My face paled and my breathing stopped.

What I was witnessing was enough to cause any mother to go on a killing rampage. I seriously felt like my heart was being trampled on and cut to shreds; that my very life was being drained out of me within nanoseconds.

There he was, hovering over my precious child with his filthy hands around a silver stake that was embedded deep into her chest. His trusty follower was standing impassively beside my daughter's head.

I composed myself and immediately pressed my foot down on the brake pedal. The car came to a screeching halt and was parked sideways, blocking any leaving or oncoming traffic.

Instinctively, I opened the glove-box. There in the compartment were some emergency stakes, a fifth of Jim Beam, and a spare lighter. I grasped one, no two, stakes made of pure silver, and shakily slipped them under my sleeves. After I unscrewed the cap and filled my mouth with hard liquor, I swallowed it, along with a couple more large gulps. The burn was enough to make anyone gag, but I was use to it, and my inhibitions melted away like butter.

Alcohol was known to be my liquid courage and as I took the lighter into my hand, I opened my driver side door. My eyes narrowed murderously and I poured the Jim Beam inside my mouth one more time. My drinker's instinct was telling me to ingest the mouthful, instead I opened my faithful Zippo, and ignited it.

Within seconds, a fountain of liquor sprayed passed my lips onto the growing flame, transforming into a man made blow torch. To all vampires, I would have been considered armed and deadly.

Once I reached the two culprits, their eyes widened in shock and they vanished before the fire had a chance to even touch them. I shouted a few choice curse words because, directly, I recognized the fiend who had been on the lookout for his master. It was Laird Matthews.

Laird and I had history together. He was an old rival of mine that I had fought many times back in the day. It always ended the same way every time. We would injure each other and he would pull me in his thrall. Right as soon as his damn fangs would graze the side of my throat, we would hear a threatening growl, he would get scared, and he would disappear. It never failed.

In my blind fury, I hadn't gotten a good glimpse at the face of my daughter's killer. This vampire was Laird's master, I could sense it. We'll call it a slayer's intuition. It's more like a psychic vibe, a sixth sense.

The bottle of Jim Beam, and my lighter, slid from my fingers to the grass. I reached my daughter's prone form. Her lifeless blue eyes stared up at me. I closed her lids, knelt down, and supported her in my arms.

A ton of emotional bricks struck me, called grief, guilt, and blame. I should have been there. I should have protected her. I was the only one who had the dexterity to do so. It was all my fault.

Nevertheless, what was done, was done. No matter how much I wished it, I could not go back in time. I had to get it through my head, come to grips with reality, that he'd successfully converted my daughter and impaled her non-beating heart with a silver stake soon after. It was too hard to rationalize.

I cradled my baby to my chest and stroked her hair. It had always been so soft and the same color as mine. I rocked her back and forth and screamed out my hatred, my pain. She disintegrated to dust inside of my arms.

"Why?" I repeated over and over while beating the pavement with the side of my right fist. "Damn it, why?"

I cried out to God and to him. "She was innocent. My little girl was innocent. Do you hear me? I will kill you for this. I will fucking kill you."

I knew I was being watched at that exact moment because the hair on the back of my neck prickled. I glanced up to find my baby's assailant and that's when I noticed that the front door to my house was wide open.

Rosalyn must have been running from the fiends. That means - I rose to my feet, deserting her ashes on the paved driveway, and ran inside.

What greeted me was an even more terrible sight - my whole family dead. Left as nothing but a pile of dirt. They had met the same fate as my daughter.

That night, I collected most of their dusty remains and put them in a small pouch. I could have cared less that they were all mixed together, or that I hadn't gathered all of their ashes. No, all that mattered to me was the fact that I was able to keep some semblance of my family at least. You see, my heart knew that I couldn't leave them, so I made it to where they would always stay with me.

Thereafter, I made four crosses and took them out to the backyard. I jammed them side by side in the ground and left little trinkets that belonged to all four members around their makeshift graves. My voice cracked as I said a prayer for them a final time.

Reluctantly, I traversed back inside and threw my clothes off to step into the shower. I don't know how long I remained under the gushing shower-head, but the water was turning ice cold. My body started to shiver and my teeth chattered. Still, I did not move.

Subsequently enduring ten minutes of buckets of freezing water being dumped on anyone's naked form would be enough to wake them from their stupor. I forcibly snapped out of my absentminded demeanor. With a depressed sigh, I shut the shower off, wrapped myself in my red towel, and walked out of the bathroom.

"Honey, it's time to go to bed." I hoarsely hollered. Upon remembrance, my head dropped and my bottom lip quivered. "That's right, you both are gone now."

A fresh batch of hot tears trailed down my cheeks and I sauntered into my daughter's bedroom. Her little fluffy pink baby blanket laid across her toddler bed. I snatched it up and made my way to my bedroom.

In my own room, I tossed on my husband's T-shirt and climbed into the bed that my husband and I had shared for years. I rested, or at least tried, tossing and turning in a fitful sleep.

His cologne still lingered on his pillow, on his side of the bed, and I buried my face into its softness. I breathed his masculine scent in and wept like a baby while I cuddled with my daughter's blanket.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and sighed, giving up entirely on my well needed slumber. My eyes were burning and bloodshot. I swear, I looked exactly like a damn drug addict with dark circles and bags underneath each lower lid.

My body surged forward with purpose. I left the bed to go get dressed and tied the pouch around my neck. It was my own personal necklace that no one could take from me. I'd kill them before they even had the chance to.

I adorned myself in my every day slayer garb. A halter top, leather mini skirt, and knee-high boots were all in the shades of black. I used this outfit as camouflage so I could easily blend into the dark nighttime. I couldn't help but think that I looked like a femme fatale.

Hurriedly, I twisted my hair into a tight bun. I threw on my black leather jacket and secured some stakes under the sleeves. Inside the right pocket was another trusty Zippo.

Before I left the house, I slowly meandered through every room, seemingly like a zombie, imprinting every last detail into my mind. Get a grip, girl; your life, as you once knew it, is over.

I jerked my family's portrait out of the frame and stuffed it inside my boot. It was a picture of my father, mother, husband, daughter, and me. We all had a happy smile on our faces.

In rage and determination, I slammed the door behind me, sat down in the driver's seat, started the car, and sped out of the driveway. It was time for me to go search for the son-of-a-bitch who had selfishly taken my loved ones from me.

I found the manor within two weeks time. I was exhausted and on edge, let me tell you. I was what one would call bloodthirsty. Vengeance was the only priority on my brain.

I parked the car about a block down the road, killed the engine, and commenced the hunt. Easily, I propelled up the tall blockade and raced across the top ledge to jump onto the roof.

My leap was accurate as my feet landed on the shingles gently. I had to be silent. One wrong move, one loud sound, and he would be alerted to my presence.

Stealthily, my hands grappled the long piping. I whirled myself about the thick steel and launched through the open window above it. Once I was inside, I began my pursuit of the monster. I'd have my revenge.

"Well, 'ello. Look at wha' we 'ave 'ere." A masculine accented voice declared behind me. "If it's not the infamous, Bloody Rose. It was only a matter o' time, but I jus' knew ye'd come."

The lights flickered on and I cursed under my breath for getting caught. With a grumble, I pivoted around to face him. There in front of me was none other than Laird.

His messy, here and there, light brown hair hung down to his chin. This was his "after sex" visual and he always wore it that way. He had these bright hazel eyes that loved to travel the length of my body, which was his routine every time he came in contact with me. His alabaster skin stood out against the black pair of boarding shorts and his black tank top. In all honesty, he was gorgeous and a true Scotsman, but he was no doubt inhuman, a remorseless killer.

"I'm not here for you." I charged him and scrunched the front of his shirt in my hands. "Where in the fuck is he?"

He laughed and shook his head in mock disappointment. "I care not who yer 'ere fer. The thin' is, ye 'ave committed a very bad no-no, lovey."

I let him go and hissed. "Oh really? How is that?"

"Ye 'ave purposely trespassed on Blood Guardian Coven territory an' anyone who does so pays the consequences."

I sneered. "I don't think so. I'll burn everyone of you, until I find him."

"Let me guess, yer after Master Malderon, aren't ye?" he grinned sardonically. His arms were crossed over his chest, arrogance in his pose. "Not me this time, Rose?"

"Don't flatter yourself." I stated, already annoyed. "I already told you, leech. I'm not here for your sorry ass."

He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. "I am seriously wounded."

I rolled my own eyes and demanded. "Where is he?"

The jerk chuckled and his bare feet slapped the wooden floor as he stormed over to the doorway. "The master's 'ere, somewhere."

Tears of hate filled my lower eyelids and I blinked them away. "You stood there and let him slaughter my father, my mother, my husband, and my daughter."

He replied, his attitude monotonous. "Well, how very unfortunate fer ya."

"Do not patronize me, you heartless prick." I retorted.

"Me name's Laird, not leech or prick, remember?" Laird snapped, clearly agitated. His Scottish accent making itself known just a bit more. "In all actuality, I 'ave been hardhearted fer centuries. It's the way I was raised in me country."

"Go to hell." I spat. My words were overflowing with resentment. "I'm going to ask you one more time, where is he?

"I apologize, lass, but I am afraid I cannot divulge tha' information to ye."

I scowled. "Fine! I'll find him myself." I progressed over to the door.

Laird stood in front of it. "I also can't allow ye to pass through this door."

I smirked and a silver stake shot out from my left sleeve, into my waiting hand. "I was hoping you'd say that. I'm just dying to fry some leeches tonight. What are you waiting for? Come and get it, asshole."

Laird's fangs elongated and overlapped his bottom lip. "Aye, let's play."

Laird lunged forward in an attempt to apprehend me and managed to slash a cut along my cheek. Blood seeped out of the incision and ran down the length of my neck. He licked the crimson fluid from his claw and groaned.

"Ye taste exquisitely, lovey." he purred. "Jus' like I imagined ye would."

My anger took control over me without delay. When that happens, I cannot think straight. As a result, I made the stupid mistake of peering into his glittering orbs to yell a few expletives in regards to him. Laird pulled me into his trance faster than I could glance away.

"Fuck!" I whined.

My loins instantaneously were aflame with desire. I tried to hide it, however, I knew he could smell it. His victorious smile proved my suspicions.

"It's been a while, 'asn't it, Rose, since ye were last under me thrall?" he questioned, slyly.

"End it, you fuck, end the thrall." I growled and rushed at him. "End it!"

"I think not. I sure 'ave missed it and our little tussles, o' course." His regale smirk served to infuriate me more. He kept sidestepping my advances with no effort at all on his part. I, on the otherhand, was sweating, trembling, and panting in exertion and absolute need.

Still, no matter how aroused I was, it had been my fatigue that had ended up screwing me in the long run. I hadn't moved quick enough to deflect his punch and winded up soaring through the room. I crashed into the wall, collapsed to the floor on my stomach, and groaned in pain.

Laird's foot pressed harshly onto my back and I huffed out a sharp breath. He leaned down, gripped a handful of my hair, and hauled me to my feet. I gritted my teeth at the discomfort and wrapped my hand around his fist before he extracted my locks from their roots.

"Let me go." I shrieked.

"We aren't finished yet, Rose." Laird tongued the gash on my cheek and his chest rumbled in a growl. "Not by a long shot."

I fought and strained, but failed to get him to release me. I was so weak due to lack of sleep and lust. He threw me to the floor and laid on top of me. I was officially pinned.

His eyes held mine. "Come on, lovey. Ye know wha' I want. Jus' a kiss."

"Kiss my ass."

He grinned. "I'll bite tha' perfect arse o' yers."

"Laird." I moaned and arched up beneath him.

Laird scoffed and subdued my hips. "No cheating, Rose. I wan' to hear ye pray fer me affections."

"Laird," I repeated.

"Poor thin'," he jeered and kissed my cheek. "Ye look so tired, among other thin's. Wha's the matter, 'aven't ye been able to rest? An' wha' is this?" He played with the string of my pouch. "Ye kept a memento? How precious."

Enraged at his words, I bucked him off of me and rolled to the side. Once I was on my feet, I backflipped away. My strength and vigor renewed, thanks to my ire, I ran up the wall and landed behind him.

Laird laughed. "Tha's it. Tha's the fight I love to see in ye. Damn, ye sure do know how to make a vampire hot fer ye."

I jumped into the air and swung my leg up, effectively landing a powerful kick into his gut. He drifted a few feet back. In a matter of seconds, I had him cornered against the wall, my stake jabbing into his chest.

"Laird," I snarled his name in utter enmity. "Let's get one thing straight. I don't need sleep to rip your head off. Now, tell me, where is he?"

Laird cackled loudly. "Tha' stake won't kill me, lovey."

This time I was the one who laughed. "Oh, believe me, lovey, I know it won't. But it will immobilize you long enough for me to set your ass on fire."

I pulled out my Zippo and lit it. The stench of the fumes wafted through my nostrils. I grinned savagely.

"Okay, okay. Hell an' damnation, Rose, I will take ye to him. Jus' don't incinerate me." Laird was squirming like the worm he was, which, I have to admit, I loved every minute of it.

I closed my lighter, extinguishing the flame, and replied. "Good boy."

Laird opened the door and held his arm out. "Ladies first."

"Go." I stated. There was no way in hell I was going to let him behind me. I didn't trust him.

"If ye insist." He shrugged and chuckled.

Laird and I traversed through the arch of the doorway and wandered down the hall, bound for his master. I made sure he was in front of me the entire time. I couldn't take any chances of him tackling me.

"Ye know, lass, I never 'ave expressed how attracted I am to ye." He glanced back at me and winked flirtatiously. "Yer very sexy."

I smirked, walked up to him, and clenched his balls in my hand. "Don't even think about it."

Laird's usual baritone turned instantly to soprano. "Okay, sorry. Damn! Drop me man bits."

"Wise decision." I released him and we continued on our merry way.

During our brawl, my hair had loosened and was now flowing down my back. I grouched and tied it into a ponytail at the back of my head.

As we crept down a certain path, something growled behind me. In turn, I had not been prepared and hadn't spun about in time to defend myself. The thing grasped hold of my long ponytail and jerked me back against a solid chest.

"Don't kill her, Marcus." Laird ordered. "We're not allowed."

Marcus sniffed my bloodied face and complained. "Why? Damn, she smells so good. Have you ever smelled a scent like hers, Laird?"

I grimaced. Another vampire and he's Romanian. How typical. Next he's going to say that he's related to the fictional Dracula.

Laird smiled. "No, never."

"She's like fucking candy." Marcus groaned.

Laird leaned in, took a deep breath, and sighed. "Lovey, even I 'ave to admit, yer mouthwatering."

"Fuck off!" I yelled.

"I want to taste her. Should I, Laird? Master said we can't kill her. I will only take a sip. Damn it, I have to have her." Within no time, before I could stop him, he had plunged his fangs into my neck. A deafening scream rushed passed my lips and I thrashed against Marcus.

I reached my hands up to dig my fingers into his eyes, but he locked my wrists inside of his palm. Marcus's clawed fingernails tore into my top amidst our engagement, completely pulverizing the cloth.

I was doomed.

When a vampire's incisors are buried in your throat, it is hard as hell to get the monster to release you. Now that Marcus had gained control over my movements, I was a free meal on a damn platter for him.

Laird was watching with a smirk of interest on his handsome face. His eyes lowered to my bare breast and he licked his lips. His look of lust disappeared rather hastily as a roar of rage echoed throughout the manor and I was hurled away from my "almost" murderer.

I landed on my knees, weak from blood loss and fatigue. My head lolled to the side. I managed to lift my chin high enough to peek at my rescuer. Spots blurred my vision, still I recognized his silhouette.

"She trespassed into our territory, Malderon." Laird explained. His hands were up in a surrendering gesture.

Malderon growled, dashed over to me, and bellowed, "She is my territory."

"Forgive me, Master." Marcus cried out and bowed before his master.

"I will deal with you both later." Malderon announced and lifted me into his arms.

"No." I tried to fight, to protest.

He sighed at my squirming form and fearful eyes. "Stop it, or you will hurt yourself."

I didn't cease my struggling. The next thing I knew, I was being carried down some mold-covered steps and into a dark room. It stunk to high heaven. He propped me against a cement pillar, then he lifted and shackled my wrists above me.

I wanted to glare up at him, but the pain in my neck had finally taken its toll and hindered my joints from moving. My head continued to dangle, forcing my chin to rest along my clavicle.

"This is for your own good. I am so sorry." Malderon caressed my cheek and locked the cell door, disappearing back up the stairs within the blink of an eye.

His words confused me. They kept repeating themselves in the recesses of my mind. His voice had been so soft and calming that I couldn't stay awake any longer. My lids drooped closed and I passed out.