United Service

• Title Page
  
• Vampires Exist Among Us
  
• 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
  
• Chapter 26
  
• Chapter 27
  
• Chapter 28
  
• Chapter 29
  
• Chapter 30
  
• Chapter 31
  
• Chapter 32
  
• Chapter 33
  
• Chapter 34
  
• Chapter 35
  
• Chapter 36
  
• Chapter 37
  
• Chapter 38
  
• Chapter 39
  
• Chapter 40
  
• Chapter 41
  
• Chapter 42
  
• Chapter 43
  
• Chapter 44
  
• Chapter 45
  
• Chapter 46
  
• Epilogue
  
• About the Author
  
• Other Colony Series Books
  
• Acknowledgements
  
• Eternal Service book #1
  
• Enduring Service book #3
  
• Reliant Service book #4
  
• Other Books by Silkhaven Publishing, LLC
  

UNITED SERVICE

By Regina Morris

Smashwords Edition

Silkhaven Publishing, LLC

Silkhaven Publishing, LLC

ISBN: 978–0–9888222–6–9

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013911020

Copyright (c) 2013, Regina Morris

Initial public release version.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the written permission of Regina Morris with the exception in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Printed in the United States of America.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are fictitiously used. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Silkhaven Publishing, LLC does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third–party Web sites or their content.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of Silkhaven Publishing, LLC is illegal and punishable by law. To obtain a copy of this novel, please purchase only through authorized electronic or print editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

Adult content within. Sex, nudity, violence, and language. Suggested audience is 18+ years of age.

They can be our neighbor, best friend, our child’s teacher …

They alter their aged appearance based upon the amount of blood they consume. They move to a new area, drink a lot of blood, and appear young. Slowly they limit their intake of blood and age, right in front of our unsuspecting eyes. After decades, they fake their death, move, and do it over and over again.

Most live quiet lives in an effort to blend in.

Some however want power and control.

The Colony is an elite group of vampires sworn to protect the President of the United States from these rogue vampires.

Gentle rain drizzled on Sterling’s nude body like healing kisses, renewing his sense of self–peace. His headache had subsided a little, but in truth, the ache always persisted. The pain was just more manageable now. Sterling reclined on the patio chair, his body dwarfing the size of the furniture as he stretched to wake up in his solitude. His skin chafed against the chair, feeling slightly sunburned. He opened his eyes to a cloudless sky and cursed as the sun blinded him . . . No more relief would come today.

As a half–breed vampire, he didn’t have the protective inner eyelids the purebreds had, so he closed his eyes against the sun. He thought of the day’s schedule. He knew he would spend most of his time down at the penitentiary. He groaned because every time he visited the place, his body ached. It wasn’t being around humans that did him in, but rather, the physical touching of evidence. His ability to get information from inanimate objects proved helpful in solving cases, and he was happy to help. But his body always paid the price, and he detested the side effects.

Sterling’s touch would tell him everything he needed to know about the item’s owner, what it was used for, and the feelings and emotions surrounding the item. Each touch would make his skin crawl and itch, and the more he touched, the more his skin would scream in agony. After a few hours, his head would pound with a migraine.

But the pain meant nothing; it was just one more damn thing about his human half he had to deal with. Most vampire abilities had good side effects, but it was just his lot in life to be cursed. Fortunately though, his ability did allow him to bring some of the sickest and most depraved criminals to trial, and that was the justification he needed to keep living his lonely life.

He squinted at the sun again as he reached for his sunglasses on the ground beside him, and sat up. The private sleeping porch of the Mansion was his little oasis, and his alone. No one would disturb him while he healed and sat in his solitude at his home, which everyone jokingly called Fang Manor.

Solitude and loneliness were only separated by a thin line. A very thin line — and he knew the feeling all too well.

Sterling inhaled deeply, taking in the crisp morning air. He heard the chirping of the songbirds nearby and the wind chime down below swaying in the breeze. Cursing softly, he realized he could also hear his father with his new wife stirring in their bedroom, next to his sundeck.

It was time to get up. The mansion’s walls weren’t soundproof, and he now tried to block out a conversation which had changed into more intimate noises.
“Newlyweds,”
he thought as he rolled his eyes. No way was he listening to an encore of last night. There wasn’t anything Oedipal in his distaste of the noise; it just reminded him how powerless he was to find a wife of his own. He had failed to secure an arranged marriage, and his own attempts to find a purebred vampire mate had proved unsuccessful, many times over.

He stood, scooped up rain pooled on the chair beside him, and splashed it on his face. Shaking the water from his shoulder length hair, he moaned contently at the soothing touch. He knew this moment would be the last time he would feel good all day.

Checking his rain catchers, he poured the collected rain into bottles to be used later. Sterling then walked through the few puddles of rainwater which sat on the stone floor of the deck. He opened the glass door and entered his private bedroom. He had chosen the decor himself. The cherry wood king–sized bed with matching nightstand and dresser filled the room. A hunter green duvet, with burgundy and gold pillows, in various sizes and shapes, were at the head and foot of the bed. An old gold cross, which he had inherited from his human grandmother, hung on the wall above the bed. As pleasant as the room was, Sterling spent little time here, even though this house had been his home for too many decades to count.

He lived here with his father, stepmother, aunt, and several team members, making up “The Colony”, a special operative team of vampires employed by the federal government to protect the President and the American way of life. Sterling was one of the founding members of the Colony, which had been established in 1866, after the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln. It was really the only life Sterling knew. The job had benefits and perks, but also pitfalls. But what job didn’t?

Sterling glanced around the room. It was a gilded cage with free room and board, paid for by Uncle Sam. Sure, he loved his family, and Fang Manor was a far cry from slumming it, but because of security measures he could never entertain guests at the place. A wife could live here with him, if he had one. A girlfriend? Hell, he never dated a woman longer than, well, an hour tops. And even then, the women were humans.

Speaking of human females, he was hungry, and there wasn’t one in his bed at the moment. This is exactly why he kept an apartment in the city.

Damn. His fangs were already extended, expecting to eat. It was time for plan B. He shook his head as he walked across the room. Next to the air purifier on the floor sat a small personal refrigerator. He opened it and pulled out a bag of AB negative blood. Bagged blood. Not his favorite, but at least the food was free. He poured some into a mug and warmed it in the microwave which sat atop the refrigerator. It took only a minute for him to down it all after the microwave beeped. There was no reason to savor bagged blood. Honestly, no reason at all. The packaging, for starters, was all wrong.

The dried rain still clung to his skin. Not wanting to wash it off, he skipped a shower. In his private bathroom, he stared at his blurred reflection in the mirror. One corner of his mouth turned up in a half grin, as his reflection reminded him of the vampire lore that Hollywood messed up in their movies. Hollywood did get the mirror reflection right though. Thanks to the silver in mirrors, and even the silver in the old fashioned photography, vampire images were always obscured.