by Chris Lange
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
A Touch Too Much
ISBN # 978-1-78184-206-5
©Copyright Chris Lange 2012
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright December 2012
Edited by Sue Meadows
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.
This story contains 158 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 6 pages.
A TOUCH TOO MUCH
Chris Lange
She shall bring death to the race of vampires.
If prophecies are to be trusted, Liv possesses the means to destroy creatures of the night. But in the real world vampires don’t exist. At least not until one of them scents her. And pursues her. As she flees in order to save her life, she feels the power in her blood—the power that might eradicate a world of violence and darkness. The power that enchains her to the most ruthless vampire of all.
Dedication
To my family, for their unconditional love and support.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Lego: The Lego Group
Psycho: Universal Pictures
Scotch Tape: 3M
Chapter One
She never saw him coming.
Liv was opening the trunk of her car when a rough hand grabbed her throat and squeezed. Her heart stuttered wildly, and her lungs cried for air. The hand tightened its grip, just enough to control her, to let her know she couldn’t escape. The parking lot looked deserted. At this time of night, even late shoppers had already gone home. There was no one to help her.
She tried to breathe, tried not to panic. Little dots danced before her eyes. A sudden wave of blackness threatened to engulf her. She fought it. But the hand felt strong, very strong. Suddenly weak, unable to think, Liv dropped her bag. It clattered noisily on the concrete, the only sound in the vast silence of the parking lot.
Then…he smelt her. Definitely smelt her.
As suddenly as she had been attacked, she was free. She inhaled deeply, sweet air, blissful air invading her empty lungs. She made ragged sounds, her throat burning, her knees so wobbly that she had to lean on the car to ease off the tension. Silly as it sounded, she felt as weak as a freshly-out-of-the-womb kitten. What had just happened? Had he really smelt her?
“Go!”
His voice startled her—only one word, barely whispered, but an order nonetheless. He had assaulted her, out of nowhere. Now he wanted her to leave. The whole scene felt totally surreal.
“Go before he sees you!”
“Who?”
“Some questions are better not answered.”
He spoke in a low tone as though he didn’t want to be heard. Liv turned around as fast as her still-spinning head would allow her. He stood well away from her, dark, tall, dangerous, his gaze fixed on her. The most attractive man she had ever seen. He had just attempted to strangle her but, looking at him, all she wanted to do was run her fingers through his thick black hair, and touch the hard lines of his face.
Her granddad’s favourite curse sprang to mind, as was the case every time she felt troubled or threatened. Holy mackerel, what was wrong with her today? She should already be driving away yet shock seemed to slow her down to the speed of a sleepy hedgehog. Shock or curiosity? Latching onto the mental image of Gramps, she stared at her handsome, disturbing attacker.
“You can’t jump on people like that. What do you want?”
She carefully touched her neck, the tender spot right below the chin. Despite her fear and bafflement, Liv couldn’t help gaping at him. Who was this man? What did he want to do with her? Rape her? Kill her? If so, he wasn’t being very efficient. Why had he changed his mind? Because he had smelt her skin? That made no sense. No sense at all.
“Look, I don’t know…”
“Be quiet!”
He had issued an order again, and, in spite of his scary tone, she didn’t like it one bit. They faced each other, her still wobbly on her legs, him as hard as iron. She decided not to be impressed by his unnatural gaze and stance, and took a step towards him.
“Stay away from me!” He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t raise his voice. A gust of wind crossed the parking lot, and his long, black leather coat billowed. A dog’s distant howl broke the silence, the sinister sound suggesting loneliness. Liv felt hit by an unexpected lick of desire as she watched the mysterious stranger—a gentle hardening in her stomach, a soft tickle between her thighs.
Although night had settled in, she easily made out his rough features, the strong line of his jaws, the curve of his sensual lips. What could those lips do to her? Slide along her bare skin? Caress her mouth with longing? Kiss the gentle throbbing between her thighs?
Holy mackerel, what was she thinking? She had to quit daydreaming right this instant. For all she knew the man might be the next Jack the Ripper so she’d better stop drooling over him. Yes, good decision.
Maybe she spent too much time in front of the television, but he looked so like a dark knight from past ages, a guardian from a world beyond. Intent on clarifying the situation, Liv took another step.
“I told you to stay away from me!”
There it was again. Did she detect a hint of wariness in his tone this time?
Palms up, she met his gaze. “Why?”
“Because you are the death of me.”
Chapter Two
This was getting more and more confusing by the minute. As she opened her mouth to answer him she felt a slight tingle—something akin to gooseflesh, a faint brush of darkness. He must have felt a similar sensation because he finally moved, his eyes scanning their surroundings.
“He’s coming. Get in your car.”
“Who’s coming?”
“Now!”
A deep sense of urgency filled her. Not because he had shouted the last word, but because this peculiar tingle scared her. She quickly picked up the bag at her feet, and went around the car to the driver’s door. Fumbling for the lock, fingers shivering, she dropped the keys.
“Go. Now. Go!”
If he was so desperate for her to leave, the best way would be to help her, wouldn’t it? Apparently that wasn’t on his agenda for he still stood well away from her, studying the shadows.
“Hurry up, he’s here.”
“Give me a hand then.”
The tall, striking stranger faced the main entrance of the parking lot, his whole body as tense as a wire. As he focused on a single point, his jaws tightened, his fists c
lenched. Half concealed in the near gloom, he looked lupine, a wolf waiting for the fight. While she crouched by the driver’s door to retrieve her keys, Liv’s uneasiness settled for good.
That was when she saw him.
The other one.
Furtive and silent, he seemed to come from the heart of night. And he looked massive. A huge neck supported an even thicker head, eyes glowering in the dark, distorted mouth showing a long, white row of teeth—a nightmarish vision. Like a monster out of a horror movie. His voice sounded hellish too, loud and gravelly. Like the scrape of a finger on a blackboard.
“What are you doing, Rogan? We’ve been gone for hours. You should have brought her back.”
“Back off, Khord. She’s not an A.”
The monster called Khord turned towards Liv, to eye her suspiciously. Her nervousness turned into fear under his unwavering scrutiny. If she moved fast, she would have time to start her car, shoot into the night, and forget all about this traumatic encounter. Most of all, forget about a monster who didn’t look quite human. Although she guessed he wouldn’t simply disappear if she blinked, she seemed to be rooted to the spot.
“Please, go,” the gorgeous stranger whispered to her, his gaze never leaving Khord. “You can do it.”
He spoke as though he was trying to save her life. Funny twist for someone who had been strangling her five minutes earlier. She knew he was right, though her muscles wouldn’t answer her command. The monster approached, moving out of the shadows.
“She looks fresh enough to be an A.”
“Stick to your job.” Rogan’s harsh voice dropped a tone lower. “Let me decide who is viable, and who isn’t.”
“Yeah, yeah, but what’s the harm in having a little sniff? Just a small whiff, hey, what do you say?”
“I say back off!”
The massive man’s sudden sneer chilled Liv to the bone. “Don’t pretend to be what you’re not, Rogan. You know you can’t hold your fight!”
“Don’t try my patience.”
Khord guffawed. He licked his lips like a big cat cornering a mouse. “Come on, you and me—right here!”
The black watch around his wrist beeped. He glanced down and touched it briefly. “Well, seems like it’s your lucky day. We have to get back but not before…”
Liv only perceived a blur of movement before the monster grabbed her, squeezing her arm so hard it made her wince. Tears stung her eyes, pain flaring up her shoulder, fear cascading down into her stomach.
Rogan shouted, closing the distance between them. “Enough! I told you she’s not an A. Let her go!”
Oblivious to his words, the brute bent his face down to her neck. He smelt her. Sniffed her. Inhaled her. Filled his nose with her scent. And instantly pushed her away with all his might. Liv flew across the parking lot, flew in the dead of night, flew directly towards a wall, and crashed into it.
Except that she didn’t crash. Instead she hit Rogan, and fell into his open arms without any sensation of pain. He caught her just before she splattered her brain all over the wall. Then he sat her down on the cold concrete, checking the firmness of her spine. How could he have moved so fast? Impossible, yet she had witnessed it.
Dazed, breathless, Liv lifted her head in time to see Khord staring at her. Wide-eyed, his look of astonishment appeared so intense it was almost laughable. A surprise so unforeseen that she began to wonder what was wrong with her scent. Actually the real issue would be—what did those people not want with her?
She didn’t have time to ponder the question as the two men rushed at each other.
Such a violent clash—a loud collision reminding Liv of a lightning strike. Khord struck head-on into his opponent, sending him flying away. Instantly on his feet, Rogan ducked to avoid a huge fist, and punched a hard blow in the brute’s ribs. He howled, obviously hurt and by now very angry.
A little off balance, he took a step sideways, though not fast enough to dodge Rogan’s powerful strikes. Despite his formidable size, Khord went down onto his knees, overthrown by the blows. Rogan kicked him square in the head, only once, and knocked him flat out in a heartbeat. Without a pause, he focused his attention on Liv again.
“You killed him.”
Liv thought her own voice sounded odd. Stunned, unable to understand what had just gone on or who these people were, she felt paralysed. Watching Rogan fight struck an unfamiliar fibre in her, and turned him into a dark angel of justice, efficient but ruthless. On a deep level, she also sensed that he had saved her life.
“I wish I had. Yet he’s alive, and he won’t be out for very long. I’ll deal with him later, but you must go.”
She stood up then, pushing herself up the wall. Unsteady on her feet, she walked to her car, and opened the door.
“Look, I don’t…”
“I know you don’t understand. Believe me, it doesn’t matter. You weren’t supposed to be part of all this anyway.”
“I gathered as much, but I’m afraid I need an explanation.”
Rogan shook his head and gestured to her. She got in the car, and inserted the key in the ignition. Although way more than intrigued, she knew she needed to get a move on. The weird encounter was over. She should have been relieved, yet she felt reluctant to go. How could she be so terribly attracted to this handsome, menacing stranger?
A long hiss coming from behind them ripped her train of thoughts, a slurping voice following the terrible sound.
“You should never have done that, you traitor!”
Khord seemed to have undergone a drastic change, his jaw hanging at an odd angle, his eyes burning with rage. His features were different too, more sluggish. He snarled, showing the teeth that weren’t teeth anymore but vicious canines. As if he had become an animal. As if all trace of humanity had left him. Come to think of it, he looked very much like a vamp… No, that wasn’t a real word! In his right hand, Liv glimpsed a kind of gun. Fear spurring her on, she started the engine.
“You can’t kill me, Khord. It’s against our laws.”
Although Rogan sounded sure of his statement, Liv wouldn’t have bet on it. Confirming her suspicions, the monster glowered. Wickedness and a deep-rooted hatred vibrated in his voice.
“Yeah, well, I guess the law doesn’t apply to traitors like you. You don’t know how I’ve been longing for this very moment, Rogan, when I finally get to blow up that pretty face of yours. What a relief this is going to be. Now say bye-bye, my friend. You die, and I get the girl. But don’t worry about her—I’ll make sure she ends up where she belongs.”
“You’ll never get her. I won’t allow it.”
“Oh, Sir Rogan won’t allow it? Who do you think you are? You’re nothing but a betrayer!” Khord retrieved a tiny bullet from his pocket. “And this little baby is especially for you—made of silver for your sake.”
It all happened in a second. Liv heard the click of a gun, the loud detonation booming around her. She saw Rogan jump in the car next to her, and grunt as he closed the door.
“Go!”
She stamped her foot on the pedal. Tyres screaming, the car rushed out of the parking lot. She swung left past the exit, oblivious of the traffic, determined to reach safety. That was if safety could be found anywhere.
She didn’t see any sign of pursuit in the rear-view mirror. Beside her, Rogan seemed in pain, his head lolling with each curve of the road. The bullet had struck his left shoulder. Keeping a firm hand on the wheel, worry causing her to expel rapid breaths, Liv reached out.
“Don’t touch me!”
Anger flashed in her mind. After everything he had put her through, he had the nerve to turn her down again. A more sensible woman would have pulled over right there and ditched him, as obviously the man was nothing but big trouble. Why didn’t she?
Because, in spite of her reasoning, he fascinated her. Her foot down, she didn’t manage to avoid a bump on the road, and Rogan shuddered. Pain probably flaring up his arm, he pressed the wound. Recognising ghastly signs of de
ath on his face, Liv realised it might already be too late for him. Without any way to tell how long he’d last, she asked the question that had been reeling in her mind since he had saved her life.
“You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”
Chapter Three
Silence. A police siren screeched in the west, a vehicle honked somewhere behind them. As the lights turned green ahead, Liv ignored the freeway. Locked in her car with a wounded, supposedly fictional creature, she wondered if she’d soon wake up from a creepy nightmare. Beside her, Rogan nodded.
“I’m a dying vampire.”
“What do you mean? I thought vampires were immortals.”
“They aren’t. They can be exposed to broad daylight, decapitated, staked in the heart, burnt alive with blessed water, or shot with a silver bullet. Take your pick. Silver is poison to us, and right now it’s killing me.”
“Sure, but vampires aren't real. I mean I can’t believe this crap!”
Although her rational mind still seemed reluctant to acknowledge this distressing possibility, Liv hesitated. Somehow she had known the truth. She just hadn’t been able to admit it until Rogan had agreed.
She’d been born into a world where fantasy writers used their imagination to create werewolves, trolls, goblins, shape-shifters, and sometimes hungry-for-flesh aliens from other planets. Those were stories for people craving to live in a fantastic universe. Not real, not real. On the other hand, the dying man beside her seemed real enough.
“Vampires don’t exist.” She had to state it aloud. Who knew, maybe Rogan would suddenly tell her he had been kidding all along.
“Not in your world, they don’t.”