As Francois reached out and took the big man’s hand, two things hit him at once. First, the wetness along the right side of his right thigh made him wince. Second, when his fingers touched the guy’s hand, the hairs on that arm stood on end.
Then the stranger wrapped his fingers around Francois’s and easily hefted him to his feet.
Impressive.
Francois met the man’s light-brown eyes while keeping his hold on his hand, ignoring the human’s attempt to release him, noticing how work-roughened it felt against his own smooth skin. He rubbed his thumb along the guy’s pulse point as he squeezed lightly. At the same time, Francois admired the man’s features. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way. His hair was shorn so close to his scalp that, in the low light, Francois wasn’t certain just how dark a blond it was.
“It is fine,” Francois purred, stepping closer to him. “I am Francois Toulouse. And who would you be, handsome man?”
“Uh—”
The human’s eyebrows shot up, and a charming flush darkened his cheeks.
Lovely.
“I’m Stanton. Uh, Stanton Thundler.”
Once again, Stanton attempted to pull his hand free. Francois took complete advantage. Ever-so-discreetly, he allowed his claw to slide out just a smidge. When Stanton yanked lightly and Francois released, he scraped that talon across the flesh of his palm, nicking him.
“Oh, ow,” Stanton commented mildly as he turned his hand palm up. A bead of blood oozed up near the fleshy base of his thumb. “Damn.”
The scent of just that tiny red pearl caused Francois’s senses to reel. He barely managed to fight back a moan as his mouth watered. Licking his lips, he swallowed... hard.
Only Stanton beginning to lift his hand to his own mouth, probably intending to suck on the wound, drew Francois out of his haze.
“Allow me,” Francois purred, snagging Stanton’s wrist. “I may have chipped a nail when I fell,” he hedged while pulling Stanton’s hand toward his own mouth.
To Francois’s pleasure, Stanton didn’t resist. It was probably mostly due to the confusion mixed with arousal flooding his scent. That was okay. Francois would clear it up eventually.
Francois slid his tongue across Stanton’s flesh, lapping up the blood. As the succulent, iron-rich fluid teased his taste buds, he barely resisted the urge to moan. His mouth watered with his need for more, but Francois knew he had to wait.
Hell, Francois had been waiting four days for this human to turn up. A few more hours wouldn’t hurt anything.
“You shouldn’t lick strangers’ hands.”
Stanton’s confused-sounding warning jerked Francois out of his revelry of his beloved’s blood.
And zis big human is my beloved... just as zat asshole who visited our coven told me.
For an instant, Francois recalled that day over a week ago.
Francois worked as the chef for a vampire coven in the mountains of Montana. He enjoyed creating new dishes, experimenting with spices, and he ran a tight ship. Everyone, from Master Dante—their coven’s leader—to the youngest of children, knew to stay out of his kitchen if he wasn’t there to supervise.
The massive kitchen on the ranch was Francois’s domain.
“Hey, Francois,” Kellan greeted, leaning against the door frame. The vampire second grinned at him. The friendly male’s brown eyes twinkled. “Master Dante needs to see you in his office.”
Without ceasing in kneading the dough he worked—he planned to make baguettes for tomorrow’s breakfast—Francois stared at Kellan with lifted brows. “Zis minute?”
Kellan lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “It’s important.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Trust me.”
Francois did trust his vampire second. If Kellan said it was important, then it was. “I must knead zis for anozer minute. I will be zere as quickly as I can.”
“I’ll let him know.” Kellan pushed away from the door frame and turned to leave. “Oh, bring a couple bottles of champagne and half a dozen flutes.”
“We are celebrating?”
Kellan grinned broadly. “Oh, yeah.”
True to his word, as soon as Francois finished kneading his dough, he prepared to head up to his master’s office. As he placed a dish towel over the bowl, then washed his hands, he wondered what they could need him for. The last time Francois had been asked to Master Dante’s office, it had been so they could ask him to secretly prepare a cake to celebrate Dante’s one hundredth anniversary with his beloved, Ruth.
Francois grabbed a tray, then placed two bottles of champagne and six flutes on it. With the ease of centuries of practice, he easily balanced it on his palm as he exited the kitchen. He made his way up the stairs and stopped at Dante’s office.
Before Francois had even knocked, Kellan was opening it. “Nice. Come on in,” he said, taking the platter and heading toward the sideboard. “Shut the door.”
Obeying, Francois entered and closed the door behind him. As he expected, Dante sat behind his desk, a pleased smile on his lightly tanned features. Francois spotted Karina, too—a female vampire who stood in as the head enforcer when Monte wasn’t on this plane of existence. The redheaded vampire was bonded with not only a prairie dog shifter, but also the Horseman of War, so some of the time he resided in the demon realm.
As Francois settled in a chair, he took in the other pair seated in the room. A large male of obvious Native American descent sat on a small sofa with his arm around a lean, toned man. From their scents, the first was a wolf shifter and the second a human... and they were a bonded couple.
“Thank you for coming, Francois,” Master Dante greeted.
“Of course, Master Dante,” Francois replied.
Master Dante used a hand to indicate his guests, saying, “This is Enforcer Carson, from a wolf shifter pack in Colorado, and his mate, Jared.” His smile turned amused. “They have come with a message from Seer Laurent.”
“Seer Laurent?”
Who zee hell is zat?
Evidently, Dante recognized his confusion, for he continued, “Seer Tim Laurent is mated with a bear shifter, and he saw you.” His smile turned understanding. “I had him checked into when Carson and Jared arrived this morning.”
The pop of the cork leaving the champagne bottle caused Francois to whip his attention back to Kellan. The second began filling the flutes. No one said anything until he’d handed one to everyone.
Francois had just taken a sip of the bubbly liquid when Master Dante stated, “I’m sending you to a ranch owned by a coven north of Amarillo. You will use the cover of being there to inspect a bull we’re interested in purchasing.”
The carbonated liquid went down the wrong way, and Francois coughed. His eyes watered as he struggled to catch his breath. Feeling Kellan tap his back lightly, he offered the second a grateful smile.
When Francois finally caught his breath, he rasped, “What do I know about bulls, except how to make zem taste delicious?”
And why would zat call for champagne?
“I said cover, didn’t I?” Master Dante smirked.
“Cover for what?” Francois took a sip of his drink just to get some moisture for his throat. Unease filled him, and he shifted in his seat. “What could possibly be so important zat I have to go to some strange coven?”
“How about meeting your mate?” Jared asked, smug amusement in his tone. “Would you go to a strange coven to meet him?”
“These are vampires, handsome.” Carson squeezed Jared’s shoulder before correcting, “They call their other half a beloved.”
“Ah, yes. My mistake.” Jared slid his hand up Carson’s thigh as he rumbled huskily, “You gonna give me a refresher on paranormal terms when we get to our hotel room later, Injun?”
Carson growled softly, his dark eyes narrowing. “I think I should.”
Francois watched in shock as Carson sealed his mouth over Jared’s. The human openly groped the wolf shifter’s dick through his jeans. Carson responded by deepening the
kiss and feeding the man a growl.
Feeling arousal sizzle through him at the display, Francois rubbed the back of his neck. His throat felt dry, so he took a deep drink of his champagne. Francois met Dante’s smirking visage over the rim of his glass.
“I’ve already put in a call to Master Jaymes Martinez,” Dante stated, lifting his own glass to his lips. “Congratulations, Francois.”
My beloved? I’ll meet my beloved in Texas?
Stanton, once again attempting to remove his hold, pulled Francois from his memory. Smiling at his confused beloved, he rubbed his thumb over the pulse point at the inside of Stanton’s wrist and told his human, “I caused it, so I should fix it.”
He didn’t mention that, as a vampire, his saliva would heal the wound. Besides, there was no way Francois was going to miss out on tasting Stanton. He’d been wandering the haunted hay maze every evening since he’d arrived five days before—except Tuesday, which had been the prior day, because that was the day the ranch’s entertainment was closed. It had been a long, long day.
Finally, the chill on his pant leg caused Francois to glance down. He grimaced upon seeing the large wet and muddy patch on his designer blue jeans. The splotch extended from near his hip to below his knee... and he just knew it would stain on the pale fabric.
Unable to help himself, Francois gave in to his need to clean up... at least, a little. He released Stanton and pulled the dark-green handkerchief from his neck, using the fabric to swipe at his jeans and flick off some of the mud. Francois had tied the kerchief around his neck to bring out the green in his hazel eyes, and he knew he would have to throw it away later.
No way am I going to tie it around my neck again, even after it’s washed.
“Well, uh, sorry again,” Stanton stated, taking a step backward. “Um, if I ruined your jeans, I can buy you new ones.”
Francois snapped his focus back to Stanton.
Perfect opportunity.
“Okay. What’s your phone number, Stanton?” Francois asked as he palmed his phone in his free hand. After a still-blushing Stanton rattled off his number, Francois hit the call button. He heard a chime coming from Stanton’s pocket, so he hung up. “Zere. Now you have my number, too.”
“Uh, okay.” Stanton pulled out his phone and looked at the screen before shoving it back into his pocket. “Well, have fun in the maze.” Then Stanton turned and began heading back the way he’d come.
Oh, hell, no!
Francois shoved his phone in one pocket while carefully folding the dirty cloth. As he hurried to catch up with Stanton, he shoved the fabric into his back pocket. He grimaced as he moved, hating the feel of the wet, dirty fabric sliding over his skin.
Ignore it. Ignore it.
After chanting that to himself a couple of times, Francois touched Stanton’s wrist as he fell into step beside him. “I will not be calling you to ask for new jeans, Stanton,” he told him.
“Really?” Stanton glanced down at him, his scent betraying his confusion, even over the hint of arousal that had been teasing Francois’s senses. “Then why?”
“To ask you on a date, Stanton,” Francois replied, recalling that honesty was always the best policy when attempting to woo a human beloved.
Stanton barked a laugh, the skin around his brown eyes twinkling.
Francois lifted one brow, doing his best to ignore the spike of annoyance created by Stanton’s response.
After a few seconds, Stanton’s laughter ceased. “Seriously?”
“Oui.” Seeing Stanton’s frown, Francois amended, “It means yes.”
Chapter Three
Stanton recognized the look on the slender man’s face. He’d seen it on Jerome’s face a time or too when Stanton had missed the joke. It was a mixture of exasperation and amusement.
“Oh, uh—” Stanton cocked his head. “Why?” Before Francois could answer, he waved his hands between them. “I mean... you’re a, what? A fancy French dude, and I work with bricks. Why would you bother?” Then he furrowed his brows and cocked his head. “Or is this a type thing? You got a thing for big guys?”
Francois’s expression turned... predatory was the only way Stanton could describe it. “Oh, Stanton. Not a type,” he all but purred, rubbing his hand up his jacket-covered sleeve. “I have enjoyed both men and women over zee years. You”—Francois pressed closer as he teased his fingertips up Stanton’s neck, making the hair on his nape stand on end—”are somezing special, I believe.” Scraping his nails along Stanton’s neck tendons, he added, “I would like zee chance to find out.”
Stanton stood stock still, clenching and unclenching his hands. Arousal burned in his gut, and his blood heated, threatening to give him a raging boner. Only his confusion at why some hot French guy was coming onto him kept him from sporting a throbbing erection.
That would be uncomfortable while walking through a hay maze.
Right. Hay maze. My friends.
“Uh, I don’t know.” Stanton took a step backward, pulling from Francois’s hold. He immediately missed the feel of the man’s long, slender fingers on his skin. They’d been soft and sort of soothing. Clearing his throat in discomfort, Stanton rubbed where Francois had been touching him. “I’ve never done anything with a guy before. Not that you’re not hot and all. I’m flattered. Really, but—”
Seeing the way Francois’s hazel eyes narrowed, as if annoyed at not getting his way, another thought pushed into Stanton’s head.
Maybe he’s just playing with me. A vacation romp? I’m nothing special. Why is he pushing so hard?
Stanton sighed. While he’d been telling the truth about being flattered, he had considered doing stuff with a guy before. He’d even talked to Max about it once. Stanton just didn’t want his first experience to be with some random stranger.
Or would that be better?
Shaking his head, Stanton decided he would think about it later.
“Sorry again,” Stanton repeated himself, peering up and down the aisle, trying to remember where else his friends would have turned. “Have fun in the maze.”
“May I walk wiz you, Stanton?” Francois asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and tipping his head to the side. “I have been through zis maze a few times. Perhaps I can help.”
“You’ve been here before?” That caught Stanton’s attention. He waved at the hay alley before him and the branch that went to the right. “I think I came down that one, and I turned left and bumped into you. Are you familiar with this section?”
As Stanton spoke, he started forward. He’d already tried to holler for Jerome, but the hay had a surprisingly dampening effect. Plus, there was the noises from the scary decorations.
“Oui,” Francois replied, touching his arm before taking the lead. “Zere are three quick splits, so it is easy to get separated or turned around. Zis way.”
Stanton followed, surprised to find his gaze straying to Francois’s jeans-covered ass. The globes were high and round and muscular. He found his fingers twitching with the desire to cup them, to feel them move under his palms as Francois walked.
Huh. Never felt that desire before.
Taking his next step at an angle, Stanton used the move to adjust his thickening prick.
Perhaps noticing the odd step, Francois peered over at him. His gaze flicked down to Stanton’s fly. A small smile curved his lips as he met Stanton’s gaze again before licking his lips.
Swallowing hard, Stanton felt his breath catch at Francois’s hungry look.
To Stanton’s surprise, Francois just winked before pointing to the right. “Let’s try zis branch.” Then he lifted a brow and asked, “Unless you have been down zere before?”
Yanking his focus back to where it should be—finding his friends—was surprisingly tough.
After clearing his throat, Stanton glanced around again. “Uh—” He frowned as he sighed. “I-I really don’t know.” Rubbing his palm over his closely shorn head in agitation, Stanton admitted, “Everything is kinda look
ing the same to me.”
“Zat is part of the hay maze’s allure. Make most things similar so patrons get turned around.” Francois patted his shoulder. “It makes it more fun, because you get lost.”
Stanton nodded, figuring the guy was right. “It is a maze.”
“Exactemo,” Francois replied, his eyes twinkling in the fake torchlight.
Huh. They’re kinda pretty.
“Come, my handsome friend.” Francois touched Stanton’s lower back, drawing him out of his stray thought. “We will explore zee twists and turns and perchance stumble upon your friends.”
Nodding absently, Stanton gave in to the smaller man’s urging and started walking.
Stanton found himself leading for the most part, with Francois staying a step to his right. He had tried to allow him to go first, that way he would have an easier time seeing the motion-activated hay maze scares, since he was so much bigger than him. Except, Francois didn’t startle the way Stanton did at the lunging mummies, cackling clowns, or roaring werewolves.
“You don’t scare easy, huh?” Stanton commented as they rounded another corner. A witch cackled from her position on a broom as she swooped across the hay maze aisle. Instinctively ducking, Stanton raised his arms over his head as he barked, “Shit!”
As the witch disappeared through an opening between hay bales, Stanton noticed the wire she was attached to. He chuckled softly at his response as he straightened. Standing six-foot-five, he’d felt the wire was a little too close for comfort... even though the witch hadn’t truly come anywhere close to him.
The designers of the place had, so far, done an amazing job with their motion sensor placement. The scares’ noises and movements did the startling while never getting close to the customers.
“You okay?”
Feeling Francois’s touch to his lower back, Stanton drew his attention away from where he had been staring at the hay wall. He cleared his throat as he nodded. “Yeah.” Pointing absently at the wire—nearly hidden in the evening gloom—Stanton told him, “Just admiring how things were created.”
125 Navigating the Vampire Maze Page 2