Tall, Dark & Fangsome ib-5

by Мишель Роуэн

  Tall, Dark & Fangsome

  ( Immortality Bites - 5 )

  Мишель Роуэн

  Sarah Dearly's positive attitude is waning. Perky and bubbly no longer describe her and frankly being a vampire is the least of her worries. Gideon Chase, leader of all vampire hunters, is being consumed by Hellfire and his only hope is that Sarah will bite him during a ritual under the full moon and turn him into a vampire. To ensure her help he has threatened to kill all the people she loves, inc. Thierry, her master vampire boyfriend and she has no doubt that he can and will do it. He has also demanded she break things off with Thierry and never see him again, which she pretends to do but it isn't easy to protect someone when you're forced to keep your relationship a secret. However Sarah isn't the pushover she used to be - in fact, she was recently cursed to be a nightwalker and when she removes the magical necklace that keeps her hungers in check, she's as dangerous as any blood-thirsty, horror-movie vampire and not just a girl-next-door with fangs. However, her nightwalker self is becoming dangerously attracted to Gideon. Can she cure herself of the curse in time to destroy Gideon and save her true love, so they can live happily together forever?

  The Basics

  My name is Sarah Dearly.

  I am a vampire.

  But don’t be afraid. I don’t bite.

  Actually, scratch that. Recently I do bite, but not because I want to.

  Three months ago I was turned into a vampire by an amorous and misguided—not to mention creepy—blind date. Shortly after he tried to bury me (don’t ask), some vampire hunters came by and staked him dead. They wanted to stake me as well, but I ran away and straight into the arms of a super-hot, suicidal six-hundred-year-old vampire named

  Thierry de Bennicoeur. French name. No accent, though. Did I mention hot?

  Angsty though he was, I fell for him. Hard.

  Bad things happened. Good things happened.

  Mostly bad things, though.

  I learned that hunters were everywhere and focused on killing vampires—even though we’re not evil. Or dead. Or undead. We’re exactly like humans except for the drinking-

  blood-to-exist thing, which, unfortunately, is true. And a couple other things like not being able to eat solid food. We have increased strength and senses. We don’t have reflections in mirrors, which, to say the least, is inconvenient. Alcohol no longer has any effect on us, alas. But we have beating hearts and can go out during the day, even though the sun tends to get a bit bright without dark sunglasses.

  Oh, the immortality thing is true, too. That is, if somebody doesn’t stake us.

  So, even though we’re relatively normal, hunters want us dead. They’re the bad guys.

  One of those hunters tried to kill me and I shot him in self-defense. Yes, shot him with a gun. No fangs involved. The incident succeeded in giving me the false reputation of slaughtering a whole bunch of hunters and the catchy title of “Slayer of Slayers.” Some people are scared of me, some impressed, and others find it a big fat challenge to sink a stake through my heart.

  One of those hunters is Gideon Chase. He’s the leader of all the vampire hunters, and a billionaire who was considered quite a ladies’ man before he slayed a demon and was burned by hellfire. The hellfire scarred him horribly and is slowly and painfully dragging him, body and soul, to hell.

  Now he wants my help.

  Because, thanks to a couple life-or-death situations, I’ve had to drink the blood of two master vampires—

  Thierry being one of them—I now have some sort of supercharged blood. This allegedly means that any vampires I sire will be very strong. Gideon is under the impression this means that I can heal him if I turn him into a vamp and keep him from his one-way ticket to hell, but it has to be done along with a ritual under the next full moon.

  And if I don’t do what he says, he’ll murder everybody I love.

  Obviously, I agreed to help him out.

  He made me end my budding relationship with Thierry because Gideon’s afraid that I’ll reveal his nefarious plans to him in a private moment. But my attempted break-up didn’t work. We’re still together, only now we have to keep it a secret from everyone, even my closest friends. If Gideon finds out that I didn’t do what he demanded… well, he simply can’t find out.

  The guy is evil. Literally.

  Last, but certainly not least, I’m dealing with a curse that turns me into a nightwalker—a vicious, neck-biting, sun-fearing, sultry vixen of a vampire (in other words: so not me)— unless I’m wearing an ugly but effective magic-infused gold chain.

  I’m trying to stay positive that everything will work out in the end, but it currently sucks to be me.

  The pun is fully intended.

  Chapter 1

  Okay, Sarah, try not to freak out,” Amy said.

  That’s not really a good opener—not when you’re already close to the edge like I was.

  My two best fanged and fabulous friends, Amy and George, had taken me out for drinks at a place called Darkside, the only secret vampire nightclub in Toronto currently open for business.

  I’d known Amy for years, since we were both nonvampiric personal assistants—a day job she still held. I met George three months ago after I was sired into my new life as a vampire. They were trying to help me mend my broken heart and shattered self-esteem after my big, nasty break-up with my master vampire boyfriend, Thierry, a week and a half ago.

  Unfortunately, since alcohol didn’t affect vampires other than remaining a tasty treat, I was on my third Tequila Sunrise and not feeling any differently about life, the universe, and, well… everything.

  “Perky” was no longer my middle name. Not that it ever was.

  I eyed Amy cautiously. “What are you talking about?”

  She didn’t reply. Amy’s red-lipsticked mouth was frozen in a slightly scared-looking smile.

  She wore her short, platinum-blond hair like a Papa-Don’t-Preach-era Madonna to contrast her low-cut, black sequined top and tight black skirt.

  When I glanced at George, he shrugged. He looked like a male model with shoulder-

  length, sandy-colored hair he currently had back in a low ponytail. He had chiseled features, a square jaw, and under his tight white shirt and black leather pants I knew he had a body worth crying over. Crying, mostly because he batted for the other team. Not that I’d ever harbored any unrequited fantasies about George. Not a chance. I had enough trouble with men without adding him to the list.

  But he was mighty pretty.

  “She’s definitely going to freak,” he confirmed.

  Before I could ask for any more details about this predicted freak-out, a man approached the bar at which we were belly-up on rather uncomfortable stools. He was tall, built, attractive, and wore a dark blue button-down shirt exactly the same color as his eyes. His gaze was entirely fixed on yours truly.

  I tensed at the unexpected attention.

  “You’re Sarah, right?” he asked.

  “Uh…”

  “I’m Jeremy.” He smiled wide enough to show off his shiny white fangs. “Amy’s told me all about you, but your reputation precedes you, of course.”

  I flicked a confused glance at Amy, and then back at Jeremy. “Um…”

  His grin widened. “Maybe we can get a private table so we can get to know each other a bit better.”

  I shot Amy a horrified look as it all started to click in.

  Was this a… a blind date?

  Oh, hell no.

  Amy cleared her throat nervously at my expression. “Jeremy works at the office in the HR department. When I realized he’s a vampire, too, I knew you two would be absolutely adorable together. So I kind of asked him to join us here toni
ght. You know, without telling you first.”

  The last blind date Amy had set up for me resulted in a hickey I’d remember forever since the guy had bitten me and turned me into a vampire. Needless to say, I wasn’t a big fan of impromptu setups with strangers. Especially ones orchestrated by Amy.

  “Great to meet you… uh, Jeremy, was it?” I plastered a smile on my face while my eyes tracked back to my Cupid-playing blond friend. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Amy? In private?”

  She nodded tightly. “Mmm hmm.”

  “We’ll be back in just a sec. Talk amongst yourselves.” I slid off the leather-covered barstool and sidestepped Jeremy and George as I threaded my way through the crowd of thirsty, club-going vampires toward the hallway leading to the washrooms. Amy trailed silently behind me.

  “Really?” I said after we were out of earshot and away from the loud music. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “But he’s so nice. You haven’t even given him a chance.”

  “I’m sure he’s the nicest vampire bachelor in the city. This has nothing to do with him.”

  “I wanted to cheer you up. So sue me.” She pouted at her failed attempt to love-match me. “Ever since you and jerk-face broke up you’ve been no fun at all.”

  Jerk-face was her pet name for Thierry. I had a similar term of endearment for her vampire husband, Barry, so I guess it all equaled out.

  I cleared my throat. “That doesn’t mean I want to start dating again. At least, not this soon.”

  “Jeremy would be perfect for you.” She paused. “Although, he’d also be perfect for

  George, if you know what I mean. Don’t you love a man who’s flexible about certain things?”

  Sounded like an episode of Jerry Springer in the making, actually.

  “I appreciate the thought, but I need some time on my own right now.”

  She nodded sadly and patted my arm. “Your heart is broken in a million pieces.

  Sometimes the best thing to do is to get back on that horse and gallop right out of town into the sunset with a new, perfect man.” She cocked her head to the side as she thought about it. “Or having a one-night stand with a super-hot guy would probably work wonders, too.”

  “Wallowing in solitude is also a great use of time after a breakup. No one-night stands need apply.”

  She sighed. “You’re not thinking there’s a chance you and Thierry are going to get back together, are you?”

  I chewed my bottom lip and shook my head. “It’s over. Him and me were completely wrong for each other from the very start. This is all for the best.”

  It sounded perfectly rehearsed because it was.

  Amy nodded. “Well, you’re right about that. He was a pompous jerk who didn’t deserve you. I knew from the beginning that he was a complete waste of your valuable time.”

  I blinked. “Yeah, except for that dirty little crush you had on him, you mean.”

  She blanched at the reminder. “I thought we were going to forget about that.”

  “The image of the goo-goo eyes you used to make behind his back is still burned into my brain cells.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “Please stop.”

  I repressed a smile. “Listen, don’t worry about me. Seriously. Every day is a little easier. I hardly ever think about Thierry anymore.”

  Also rehearsed. Every morning when I woke up in my bed all alone I said it to the stucco ceiling—which rarely had any critiques of my acting ability.

  “Have you heard from Veronique lately?” Amy asked. “I wonder if she’s planning on swooping down and grabbing him now that you’re out of the picture.”

  “Haven’t seen her lately, so I have no idea what she’s up to.”

  Veronique was Thierry’s wife. Yes, the man I’d been involved with had been married for hundreds of years to a woman who was the epitome of perfection—beautiful, charming, rich, and powerful.

  Their marriage was in name only. They’d been separated for more than a century before I even met Thierry. Veronique unapologetically and frequently dated men a fraction of her age and enjoyed her own life, which she lived mostly in Europe with occasional visits to

  North America. There was no love there anymore between them.

  Thierry had recently attempted to get an annulment from vampire contacts at the Vatican itself—apparently the only way to get out of a marriage the length of theirs—but she refused to sign the papers. She wasn’t evil, she was simply self-centered. Ending their marriage didn’t benefit her in any way so she didn’t see any logical reason to sign.

  Her lightly French-accented explanation still buzzed in my ears like a swarm of Gucci-

  wearing bees.

  “Love has very little to do with a successful marriage, my dear.”

  The memory still made my blood boil with equal parts frustration and annoyance.

  Amy and I returned to the bar, and I let Jeremy down as gently as possible. He took it like a champ.

  “If you ever want to hook up, give me a call.” He handed me a business card, then turned to George. “Great talking to you.”

  “Yeah, you, too,” George agreed as Jeremy walked away. Then he gave me a dirty look.

  “Big mistake, Sarah. He was H-O-T. He actually made working in Human Resources sound like fun. Which I cannot imagine it actually is.”

  “Sounds like you liked him.”

  “Well… I was getting a vibe.”

  I handed him the business card. “He’s all yours.”

  “Thanks!” He smiled at me. “Now I totally forgive you for spilling your nasty dollar-store shampoo on my carpet yesterday.”

  I frowned and absently itched my scalp. I couldn’t help it if I was on a strict budget as the remainder of my meager savings trickled away like cheap shower gel down the drain. Hair doesn’t clean itself, after all.

  Thankfully, the drinks tonight were on Amy’s tab. I couldn’t eat solid food without yakking, but for some reason mixed drinks didn’t bother me at all. Along with not having a reflection—definitely one of my least favorite parts of my new life—I racked that up to unexplainable phenomena.

  Over the last couple of weeks, I’d been on a crash course to learn as much about vampires as I could. Counting on other people to guide me was unreliable at best, dangerous at worst. I’d learned that the hard way. The Internet, however, was a vast resource. As soon as I broke through the crusty covering of popular myths, everything I needed to know about real vampire culture was right there at my fingertips.

  I might be getting carpal tunnel syndrome and becoming a fanged computer geek, but at least I was getting educated. Better late than never.

  I sucked the remainder of my drink clean right down to the naked ice cubes.

  Another Tequila Sunrise immediately landed in front of me.

  I glanced up at the bartender. “You must be psychic.”

  He shook his head. “This is compliments of the gentleman in the corner.”

  I swiveled around on the stool to look where he indicated. Other than two slutty-looking vamps shaking their groove thing on the dance floor, nobody was there.

  “Who did you say sent this?” I asked the bartender.

  “He must have left. Tall guy. Good-looking in a dark and miserable sort of way.”

  “Sounds exactly like Sarah’s type,” George observed, then poked me in the shoulder. “I need to dance. Let’s go dance. I love this song.”

  “Not in the mood.”

  “I’ll go.” Amy slipped off the stool and teetered precariously on her four-inch platform heels. She gave me a pointed look. “After all, somebody should have some fun tonight.”

  Well, that was a bit rude. Accurate, but rude.

  I watched the two of them depart to shimmy to Madonna and Justin singing about saving the world in four minutes. I absently twisted the gold chain I wore until it began to cut off the circulation to my index finger.

  The chain was ugly. It looked cheap and heavy and didn’t go with any of my wa
rdrobe.

  I’d never wear it if I had any say in the matter.

  I didn’t have any say.

  Thanks to my nightwalker curse, the chain was the only thing keeping me from biting necks and killing people for kicks. Nightwalkers had existed a few hundred years ago, their vicious nature caused by a rare strain of the virus that turned humans into vamps.

  They were the reason for all the untrue myths about vampires being totally evil. They were the reason that hunters exist in the first place.

  Nightwalkers were wiped off the face of the planet by those hunters to protect unassuming humans—and other vampires.

  Which meant that, currently, I was the only vamp in the world with nightwalker tendencies—an uncontrollable dark thirst that spread over me, a need to feed on humans or other vamps as if they were an all-Sarah-can-eat buffet. I also couldn’t go out during the day or the sunlight would fry me. There was no sunscreen on earth that could keep me from turning into a crispy critter if I wasn’t wearing the chain.

  The witch who’d cursed me was dead now. No chance to get her to reverse the curse.

  Which meant I had to find the answer on my own. If I ever lost my chain—the only thing keeping me from truly becoming a creature of darkness—then I was seriously screwed.

  And so was anyone who crossed my path and looked remotely appetizing.

  I shuddered at the thought and willed myself to concentrate on something, anything, else.

  I stirred the cocktail in front of me with a swizzle stick and stared down into its orangey depths. I pushed the cherry down, holding it under the surface as if trying to drown it.

  After a moment, I let it bob back up to the surface.

  Dark and miserable.

  Just my type.

  I pushed the drink away. With my luck, Mr. Dark-and-Miserable had poisoned it.

  “Hey, can I get a shot of B-Positive?” I asked the bartender.

  A couple of seconds later he slid a shot glass filled with familiar red liquid in front of me.

  Don’t get grossed out. It’s really not that bad.