My Horny Stepmom Turns Me into Her Vampire Slave

In pop culture, vampires are always shown sipping a glass of red wine.

I guess it’s because it looks like blood or something.

Honestly, though, I think red wine tastes like shit. Give me an ice-cold beer any day.

But whether it’s red wine, beer, or any other kind of alcohol, what really matters is who you’re drinking with.

And that’s exactly why even beer is hard to enjoy when I’m stuck sharing it with Frank Pyton, one of the fastest-rising names in New York’s organized crime scene.

He’s a man in his forties with slicked-back black hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. A sharp jawline, a perfectly trimmed beard, and that classic Italian-American look that makes him seem like he walked straight out of an old gangster movie.

He only came to New York four years ago, yet he’s already taken over a huge chunk of the city’s criminal underworld.

Not exactly surprising, considering the “mysterious” deaths of almost all his rivals. But his meteoric rise isn’t just thanks to his brains or his charisma.

Frank Pyton may be human, but he isn’t from this world.

I used to think I was one of a kind.

Turns out Earth is crawling with demons, vampires, and all kinds of creatures that look like they walked straight out of a fantasy novel, all from a world called Elyndra.

As much as I hate Frank — and just being near him gives me the creeps — he’s the one who taught me everything I know about my race and the world I came from.

Though, honestly, I still have no idea how I ended up here.

As far as I can remember, I’ve always lived in the orphanage where Veronica adopted me.

“Axel Lustsilk, I hope you’ve had time to think about the offer we discussed,” Frank says, taking a sip of his red wine.

We’re sitting on a couch inside the VIP room of one of his many clubs across New York.

This one happens to be a nightclub in Queens.

As he lifts the glass, I can’t help noticing the large snake-shaped ring wrapped around his ring finger.

It looks ancient. Almost mystical. A bright emerald is set into the snake’s eye.

Still, I’d bet the way he keeps sipping that wine is just an act to make himself look sophisticated.

Yeah… he’s really committed to the whole gangster role.

Yeah… his offer.

He wants me to join his organization and take on one of its top positions.

Ever since he came to the city, he’s been recruiting every creature from Elyndra he can get his hands on. Dozens of them already work for him.

I never imagined there were that many in New York alone.

But seriously… why the hell would I give up my comfortable life with Veronica just to become his hitman?

Only a desperate idiot would say yes to something like that.

«La mia risposta di ora è la stessa dell’ultima volta. E di quella prima ancora,» rispondo con fermezza. «Dai, Frank, non ho niente da guadagnare unendomi a te. E poi sono troppo giovane per farmi ammazzare da qualche Monster Slayer.»

I already risk my neck every night when I go out and kill the people I can’t stand. I’ve got no interest in playing with fire even more.

I honestly think New York is one of the most dangerous cities in the world, maybe even the most dangerous. When you grow up surrounded by stories of murders and injustice, and you’ve got powers like mine, I think anyone with even a shred of decency would try to clean up the city.

Every criminal I kill is one less threat to Veronica.

That’s all the reason I need to keep doing what I do.

And, more importantly, to stay as far away from Frank as possible—the worst criminal of them all.

Frank doesn’t react at all to my answer. Honestly, he probably would’ve been more surprised if I’d accepted with a big smile.

“Since I had you come all the way here, at least let me give you a ride home,” Frank offers as I get up from the couch.

Sure, I’m pretty far from the penthouse I share with Veronica in Midtown Manhattan, but only an idiot would get into a car with a crime boss.

Especially when that crime boss isn’t even from this world.

Besides, a nice walk under the moon sounds pretty damn good right now.

Veronica thinks I’m spending the night at Naomi’s place, so I’ve got all the time in the world.

After I turn him down again, Frank just gives me one of those heavy, fatherly pats on the shoulder, like he’s trying to encourage me.

This guy’s getting a little too friendly for my taste…

Wait… he doesn’t have a thing for me, does he?

Fuck… I seriously hope not. That’s disgusting.

The streets of Queens are seriously dangerous at this hour, crawling with the worst kind of scum.

Veronica always tells me the same thing.

“Stay away from those neighborhoods. There are some really dangerous people out there! Did you read the New York Times this morning? They found five men with their throats slit on one of those streets. It was probably some gang war or something. Promise me you’ll never go there, not even during the day. Okay?”

I love it when my mom acts like a wild nympho, but I love it even more when she gets all overprotective like this.

By “dangerous people” she probably means the three guys who just spotted me walking alone through the back streets toward Midtown and decided to head the same way, following me into a narrow alley lit by nothing but the silver glow of the moon.

I can hear their footsteps picking up behind me, getting closer and closer until…

“Don’t make a sound or I’ll kill you!” one of them snarls.

At the same time, the other two grab my arms and slam me against the wall while the guy who threatened me pulls out a handgun and jams it against my stomach.

Wow. What a surprise.

Who could’ve seen that coming?

I’m absolutely shocked…

“Didn’t your mommy teach you to stay away from places like this at night?” the guy with the gun sneers.

The other two let out a quiet laugh, throwing the same pathetic threats my way.

“Yeah, she told me there are dangerous people around here. That’s exactly why you three should be careful too — this place is really dangerous,” I reply with the same sinister grin.

BOOM!

The sharp crack of a gunshot tears through the night.

Looks like that little jab was all it took to set the guy with the gun off.

Guess he’s the type who loves making threats but can’t stand being threatened back.

First comes the cold shock of the bullet punching through my stomach.

Then the warmth of blood pouring out of the wound, soaking my insides before spilling over my clothes, and…

Fuck, that burns like hell!

“W-What the fuck…?” the guy stammers as the other two instantly let go of my arms and stumble backward.

They’re terrified.

I can see it all over their faces.

I don’t know if they’re more horrified by the hole in my stomach closing up almost instantly right in front of them…

…or by my eyes.

Normally they’re as blue as the open sea, bright like sapphires. Right now, though, they’re not blue anymore. They’re glowing blood red.

The guy with the gun completely loses it and fires two more shots.

One bullet tears straight through my shoulder. The other hits me point-blank in the jaw.

Same as before. Both wounds close up almost instantly.

The other two switch tactics and pull out knives.

Idiots.

Not that running would’ve saved them. The moment they walked into this alley with hostile intentions, they were already dead.

I’d love to play with them a little longer, but honestly, I’m tired.

Right now, I just want to go home and soak in a nice hot bath.

The fear I saw in their eyes a second ago is nothing compared to what I see now, when they notice the deep gash opening across my palm.

Blood pours from the wound in streams, but not a single drop hits the ground.

Instead, it swirls around my hand, taking shape and hardening until it becomes a massive axe forged from my own blood.

The three of them let out inhuman, deafening screams, but they only last for a second. The moment the edge of my axe slices clean through their fragile necks in a single swing, silence takes over again.

I look down at the corpses lying at my feet with a satisfied smile.

Three more pieces of trash off this city’s streets.

I feel like a fucking superhero fighting crime.

Still, I’d better get out of here fast. I can’t risk running into a Monster Hunter, or I’m the one who’s screwed.

I’m sure tomorrow morning the New York Times will be talking about three more criminals found beheaded, along with another round of warnings from my mom.

Ah… Damn gang wars…