Here Comes the Vampire (Dead End Dating)

by Kimberly Raye

  We were connected in a way that went beyond his-and-hers hand towels. While this little bit of FYI had freaked me out at first, I’d actually started to like it.

  At least when it came to sex.

  We’re talking better than a mood ring and it definitely made the whole apology thing easier on the ego.

  Mine and his.

  I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean for this to happen and I’m not happy about it.

  Stop talking. He dipped his head and nuzzled my ear.

  I’m not talking.

  Stop thinking then. He flicked his tongue and a lightning bolt zapped me. His tongue grazed the side of my neck and electricity sizzled from the point of contact. It spread through my body, pausing in several interesting places.

  The tender side of my neck.

  My armpits.

  My nipples.

  My belly button.

  Lower...

  Another flick of his tongue and a few nibbles and he pulled back to stare into my eyes.

  Please don’t be mad. I sent the silent message, desperate to know that he didn’t hate me. I didn’t mean for it to happen.

  I don’t hate you, Lil. I could never hate you. His voice trailed off and I didn’t miss the brightening of his eyes. Right now I don’t want to think about it. I just need you.

  I touched his face. Rough stubble rasped my fingertips, dispelling any lingering notion that I was dreaming.

  I wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the past few days spent worrying and wondering if he would change his mind about us should he discover the truth, or the stress of the past few hours, but I had the sudden urge to throw my arms around his neck and burst into tears. He was here now and while I knew I didn’t need his forgiveness (it’s not like I’d done the whole commitment thing on purpose), I still wanted it.

  He kissed me then, effectively distracting me from the crazy realization. My brain zeroed in on his tongue and the way he stroked mine and, well, who could think with all that going on?

  He pressed his thigh between my legs and rubbed against my slit. Sensation bolted through me and my entire body shook.

  His lips captured mine again and his tongue plunged deep. His pulse beat echoed in my head, keeping time with the frantic ba-bom-ba-bom-ba-bom of my own heart.

  I clutched at his shoulders and opened myself to him, but he held back. Instead, he teased and stirred until I just knew I was going to lose my mind.

  I exerted a little BV strength, rolled him over and straddled him. My gaze locked with his as I slid down his hard, hot length. He throbbed deep inside me and pure ecstasy gripped me.

  Every nerve in my body started to buzz.

  To want.

  Suddenly I couldn’t feel him deep enough. Fast enough. I rode him hard then. Taking and giving and... there. Right. There.

  Yesssss!!!!

  My orgasm was fierce, slamming over me, picking me up, shaking me around. Until I stopped thinking and worrying and I simply felt. Ty inside of me. Surrounding me. Loving me.

  My body bucked and my head fell back. He pulled me down to him then. His hips lifted as he caught my nipple with his mouth. He sank his teeth deep and started to drink, and I plunged over the edge.

  I gripped his head and held him to me as the convulsions ripped through my body. One after the other. Each more fierce than the last. My body sucked at his cock the way his mouth drew on my nipple, onm to m with a desperation that went beyond anything I’d ever felt.

  My own hunger stirred then, gripping and twisting until I felt my fangs against my tongue. The urge hit me and I couldn’t help myself. I gripped his hair and pulled him up until we were face-to-face.

  I kissed him then, tasting my blood on his tongue. It was warm and sweet and the hunger roared inside of me.

  Now.

  The deep command echoed in my head and the next thing I knew, his head was tilted back and my mouth was on his neck. His blood pulsed past my lips, drenched my tongue and slid down my throat.

  Sweet.

  Succulent.

  He gripped my hips and came then. His body shook and a growl vibrated in my ears.

  I drank a few more seconds while he bucked and trembled. I released his neck, licked my lips and melted against him. He held tight then, not moving or speaking. Just holding.

  At that moment, I stopped wondering if he still loved me. I felt it. Deep in my heart. My soul.

  Even if he didn’t say the words.

  Instead, he crawled out of bed and pulled on his clothes.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “The case?”

  He nodded. “The daughter of the Born Vampire Council’s chief magistrate, Otto Charlemagne. Her name is Rose. She was kidnapped and I’m working the leads to try to get her back.”

  “Do you think she’s okay?”

  He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. It’s just not playing out right.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It doesn’t feel like a normal kidnapping case.” He pulled on his boots and simply sat there on the edge of the bed for a long moment. “It feels like something bigger. Something really big. And something really bad.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know why.” He seemed to think. “It’s just that it happened too fast. Too easy. She’s under twenty-four hour surveillance. Your average Joe wouldn’t be able to get to her, which means it might be someone on the inside.” He shook his head. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m at a dead-end. The thing’s getting colder by the minute. Then you called and said you needed me, so I came.” He leaned down and planted a long, lingering kiss on my lips. “I’ve got to go.”

  I nodded instead of morphing into a blubbering idiot and begging him to stay. He had things to do. Important things. And so did I. I had to get myself out of this situation.

  Not that I was worrying about any of tha

  t right now.

  Rather, I was basking in the glow of wicked hot make-up sex.

  Or wicked-hot good-bye sex.

  The thought struck, wiggling its way into my head, reminding me that while we’d had fantabulous sex, he’d never once said that he still loved me. That he still felt the same. That he still wanted me, for better or worse. ‘Til death do us part.

  My joy took a hike and I bolted out of the bed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I had to find him.

  I sprinted across the back patio to the spot where we’d had our confrontation earlier. I focused my senses and scanned the surrounding trees, my eyes pushing back the shadows, my ears tuned in to the buzz of crickets, the rustle of tree branches, the crunch of grass--

  I stared at the spot and sure enough, a shadow moved.

  Relief washed through me. He was still here.

  And?

  And I could ask him if he still loved me. I needed to know. I needed for it to be true.

  Pathetic, right? But there it was. I was hooked. In lov onm me.e. Desperate.

  I reached the spot in the blink of an eye, but there was no one there.

  Because he was staying one step ahead. He didn’t want to talk to me. To answer the one question raging in my head.

  The thought struck, followed by a rush of panic, and then relief when I heard the footfall behind me.

  “We have to talk—“ I started as I whirled.

  But it wasn’t Ty who stared back at me.

  It was Riley.

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” He must have noticed my disappointment, because he grinned. “What? Did you expect your boyfriend?” He shook his head. “He already left. I guess he didn’t feel like sharing.”

  “He doesn’t have to share. Remy and I aren’t really committed.”

  “I don’t think the boyfriend gives a shit about the details.”

  “And I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. Everything you do, everything you say, everything you see is my business. You made it my business w
hen you stole those tapes. Time to give them back.” My gaze went to his pale fingers and the object he held.

  He’d traded the stake for a gun.

  I realized my mistake all too late, then. I’d done my best to stay around others and keep close to the house, in full reach of my father’s security system. But I was too far away to trip any alarms.

  And Riley knew it.

  He aimed the gun straight at me, a cold look in his eyes.

  It wasn’t a normal-looking gun. Rather, it had a large clear canister attached to the top. A greenish-yellow liquid sloshed in the canister and the familiar scent of garlic prickled my nostrils.

  Familiar because I’d gotten a face full of the stuff not very long ago when I’d faced off with the sorcerer Mordred. He’d given me a garlic shower and put me out of commission for a short while.

  “Wait!” I held up a hand. “You want the DVDs? I’ll give them to you. Just let me go inside.”

  “Not necessary.” He indicated the small black bag that sat near his feet. “I slipped inside your room while your parents were having their little party. They had the security system off for obvious reasons. So now I have the DVDs. All I need is you.” He took aim.

  “Look!” I pointed overhead and sure enough, his head snapped up and I took advantage of the distraction. I leaned down and scooped up the steaming pile of werewolf dung that Viola and her buddies had left for my dad, and tossed it straight at Riley.

  The poop hit him square in the face and he stumbled. I was on him then, shoving him backwards. He slammed into a tree. His body jerked a split second, stunned before his fingers tightened around the gun.

  Uh, oh.

  I started to turn, to run, but he was too fast.

  The liquid hit me, dripping into my eyes, my mouth. The scent rushed into my nose and clogged my lungs. My muscles clenched and jerked. I fell to my knees, my body going into spasms for several long moments before the paralysis gripped me. I hit the dirt face-first. My heart slowed. My eyes closed.

  And then I tumbled into a big black pit of smelly nothingness.

  #

  Where was a Tylenol when you really needed one?

  That was my first thought when I blinked.

  My second?

  I so needed a can of Lysol. My nose wrinkled as the scent of werewolf poop lingered in my nostrils. My head throbbed and my eyes felt gritty and heavy.

  I became acutely aware of the cold dirty floor beneath me and the ropes binding my hands and feet. The confrontation with Riley came rushing back in an instant and I stiffened. Pain shfenaware ofot through me. Hammers pounded at my temples and a soft crying echoed in my head.

  I glanced to my left, my watery gaze pushing back the darkness to see the cluster of mops and brooms stacked nearby. I turned toward the right, to the rows of shelves stocked with paper towels and toilet paper and cleaning products.

  I sniffled and caught my bottom lip. The noise instantly stopped.

  Okay, so the crying was me. What can I say? I’m super sensitive.

  I gathered my control and tried to slow my pounding heart. My stomach hollowed out. Hunger gnawed at me, my first clue that I’d been stuffed in this storage closet more than a few measly hours.

  My entire body ached and my lips felt dry and cracked and swollen. A hot tear slid down my cheek and I clamped my eyes shut against the sudden flood that threatened me.

  No more crying.

  I needed to think.

  To get a grip and get the hell out of here.

  I forced my eyes wide and gave my surroundings another good once over. Here definitely looked like the inside of a storage closet.

  But where?

  I knew I wasn’t in my parents’ house. I’d been in and out of every room, and nothing looked like this.

  Was I nearby? Still in Fairfield? Connecticut, even?

  A sliver of light outlined the door in front of me, illuminating my bare feet and reminding me that Riley had caught me wearing nothing but my undies and Ty’s over-sized T-shirt. Another tear squeezed past my lashes and I gave myself a mental shake.

  No crying. No falling apart. No.

  I focused my hearing on the sounds beyond the door. The ding of an elevator. The roll of dice. The shuffle of cards. Wayne Newton singing Sweet Caroline—

  Shit.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I was back in Vegas. Mother-freakin’-Vegas.

  Nah.

  That would mean I’d been out of commission for more than a few hours.

  Days?

  Weeks?

  I tugged against the ropes, but it was useless. I opened my mouth and called out, but my throat was so dry, my body so weak from lack of blood that the only thing that came out was a hoarse croak.

  “Easy,” came the oddly familiar voice and I turned to see the apparition standing in the corner.

  Mona the ghost wore the same ungodly blue prom dress and hair bow that she’d had on that first night at the Mayan and my chest tightened.

  And I thought I was in deep shit? She was stuck in that dress forever.

  “So it’s true,” I said with trembling lips. “I’m actually in Vegas. At the Mayan.”

  She nodded. “If it’s any consolation, your hair still looks great. Messy, but nothing a hairbrush can’t fix.”

  “Where am I?”

  “Jimmy Montana’s room.”

  “Jimmy Montana?” My brain rifled back to our first conversation when she’d told me all about the mob boss who kept a suite at the hotel. “But Montana is a werewolf.”

  “And?”

  “And the man who brought me here is a born vampire.”

  “So? Jimmy plays hosts to the vampires all the time. He’s got a born vamp, buddy, as a matter of fact. The chief magistrate of the born vamp council.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense.” Jimmy and the chief magistrate? I tried to wrap my head around it, but I couldn’t make it past Riley and the DVD footage I’d witnessed. Had Riley offed one of Jimmy’s guys? Probably. The murder had happened here and Jimmy ruled the werewolf roost at the Mayan. So why bring me straight to his enemy?

  Unless Jimmy wasn’t the enemy and something else was going on. Something involving Jimmy and the chief andt the Mayamagistrate whose daughter had been kidnapped.

  Ty’s words echoed in my ears.

  Something bigger is going on. Something really big. And really bad.

  And whatever that something was, I was stuck smack dab in the middle of it.

  That’s what my gut told me.

  Meanwhile my head kept insisting that this was exactly what it seemed—Riley was simply trying to cover his ass and it was all a big coincidence that he’d hidden me in a storage closet belonging to the biggest werewolf crime boss in the country.

  Hey, it could happen.

  The possibilities pushed and pulled and a wave of dizziness washed over me. Along with a deep-seated fear because every scenario ended with me getting either staked by Riley, torn to pieces by Jimmy Montana, or spontaneously combusting from all the guilt because regardless of what was happening right now, I was still committed to Remy and Ty now hated my guts. And the chief magistrate? Where did he fit into all of this?

  On top of that, I was missing. Remy and my family had to be going crazy. Were they looking for me? Did they think I’d run off with Ty?

  The questions pounded at my brain and I slumped back against the wall

  .

  I needed to get out of there, but I knew I didn’t stand a chance unless I managed to get my strength back. “I need blood,” I croaked. “Can you find me a bottle?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure I can rustle up something.” And then she disappeared.

  I sat there and tried to focus on the sounds, to stay alert, alive, but I was so weak.

  Tired.

  Hungry.

  I blinked once, twice, and then I was out again.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I opened my eyes to feel the cold edge of a bottle at my
lips.

  “Drink.” The voice was deep and slightly familiar.

  My eyes snapped open and I found myself staring up at Frankie Jenkins, the meaty security guard I’d conned out of the DVDs here at the Mayan.

  At least I thought it was Frankie. Same black suit. Same meaty body. Same bald head.

  But the eyes...

  Blue eyes twinkled back at me and I knew even before he opened his mouth that while it was Frankie’s body, it was Prom Queen Zombie behind the wheel.

  “Mona?”

  He nodded. “Drink.”

  The smell of blood teased my nostrils and the hunger roared through me. I sprang into action, my hands clutching at the bottle. The sweet warmth slid down my throat and exploded in a fireball in the pit of my stomach. Heat pulsed through me and I guzzled more until I’d sucked down every last drop.

  “Why?” I finally raised a gaze to those twinkling blue eyes.

  Mona shrugged. “I had to figure out a way to get a bottle of blood in here. I can walk through the walls, but I can’t very well carry a solid object with me. On top of that, this bottle is heavy. I’ve got enough energy to turn on an iPod or flick a light switch, but carry a bottle of blood up twenty flights of stairs and into this closet?” the security guard shook his head. “Not happening without Frankie, here. I just hopped in, repressed his spirit which isn’t too hard on account of he’s seriously depressed because he misses his Tijuana lover Raoul, and bam, I’ve got it hanging a hell of a lot better than Dewey, the rat bastard. Besides, when I’m in here Dewey can’t find me.” She smiled. “That’s the best part. You rest.” She gathered up the bottle. “I’m going to slip out of here and get you another one.”

  “But if they catch you—“

  “I’m secuݏe brity and on Jimmy’s payroll. He thinks I’m in here checking to make sure you’re still out of it. Stay put.” She turned. The door opened and closed. And just like that, I was alone again.

  I sighed and slumped back against the wall for several long moments as my nerves buzzed and my brain cells started to vibrate. Bracing my palms against the wall, I pushed to my feet and fought against a wave of dizziness that swept me. I leaned against the wall for a few seconds until the sensation passed. And then I reached for a broom.