I can understand their hesitation but it’s on them for missing out on the current golden view.
A tropical smoothie sunset.
We reached a part where no trees block the sky and beyond. It’s so breathtaking. An ombré of orange, red, and pink streaks the horizon. Rich in color, no fades or clouds, I watch from Gavin’s passenger window, a group of bats fly in the distance.
“Sometimes I wish you could shift into a bat,” I say to my vampire dude.
“Why?” he asks, chuckling softly.
“So I can put you in a cage and hide you under my bed. And when no one’s looking, I’ll feed you cheese—oh! I’ll make little top hats for you!”
“That’s the last time I use the word ‘why’ around you.”
I giggle and blow him a kiss. I wasn’t joking about the top hats. I can be a crafty bitch.
Minutes later, the Mercedes turns on to a narrow cobblestone path, wide enough to fit two cars going either way. Fading sunlight eventually couldn’t break through giant, thick trees that drooped overhead over the cobblestone road, nor send an ounce of shine to separate the shadows Banshee Peak created. Thick fog hung low and parted in swirls as the car cut through. It covered the lawns of dark brick and Victorian style houses that loomed high, exuding ancient and eerie on either side.
Pointy, black wrought iron gates covered in ivy surround every fortress. Most were designed with spikes on the bars. Shifting closer to the window, I squint to see large, aged stone statues of viscous looking bat-like gargoyles guarding doorways. Hulking gray muscle and scary detailed wings, hunched on pedestals, they’re frozen in mid roar, exposing dagger-like teeth.
The menacing ornament definitely beats flimsy plastic flamingos.
And matches the attitude of their immortal owners, one of whom now watches us cruise by with white, pupil-less eyes from the porch.
“Um... I guess neighborhood barbecues isn’t a thing here.” I state, sinking in my seat. Gavin glances at me, flashing a smirk.
“No. Although, you won’t be turned away if you go door to door with bloody Girl Scout cookies.”
“Har, har.” I pair the false chuckle with an eye roll. Gavin slows, then turns left up a small, paved incline towards his own gates. His because of the gold plaque built into a short pillar off to the side that reads VanWrath.
Behind the gates of literal hell, stands the vampire’s lair.
“A splash of yellow or fuchsia shutters would really liven up the place.”
Gavin squeezes my thigh.
“Can’t liven up something that’s already dead, babe.”
***
Okay, now I’m really kicking myself for not suggesting a sleepover a long time ago. Aside from the many thick cobwebs hanging high in the ceiling corners, Gavin’s digs are pretty sweet. No matter how hard I jump up and down on the massive, skeleton designed foyer rug, any sound is swallowed into its cushiony material.
I face the grand opening, illuminated by enteric crystal chandeliers. Two long staircases along both sides of the midnight wooden walls travel up to the second floor.
“Hello!” I yell into the air. “Ello-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-o-o-o-o-o...”
Impressive echo.
“You done, goof?” Gavin hands my luggage to a tall, white haired vampire in a sharp black suit.
Gotta be the butler.
“Yeah, do I get a tour?”
“Absolutely. First, this is Jefferies.” He gestures to the man, who bows. “My family’s longtime cherished friend.”
“And butler.” The man smiles, crinkling deep crimson eyes. I fucking knew it. Ten points for me!
“Jefferies, this is Kokoa Lovell.”
“It is nice to meet you, Ms. Lovell.”
“Pleasure is mine.” I curtsey, earning a hearty laugh from the older man. “And please, call me Kokoa or K-dawg. Or just Kokoa is fine. No one seems to want to use that last one.” I glare at Gavin. He crosses bulging arms that make a girl like me wanna drool.
“I’m not fucking calling you K-dawg,” he says. Wow. Here we go. Behind the scenes, I’ve been trying to get my friends to hop on the nickname bandwagon. And all I get is weird looks and eye rolls. Seriously, I thought Gavin was gonna be the one to help a sista out.
“Why not? I’m K-dawg. Get it? Since I’m a wolf?” I snort. Lock me in an empty room and I can still crack myself up.
“No.”
“Oh, come on. Call me K-dawg and you’re Vamp Man. And Gav-a-sauros... because like a dinosaur, you’re old as hell.”
“Being a hundred and twenty-five is not old.” Pointing a finger at me, he growls. “I’m young and virile, dammit.”
“Ho, ho, ho. Someone’s sensitive.” I smirk.
Jefferies glances happily between me and Gavin. His wide smile is a treasure.
“Anyway, she will be sleeping in my bedroom during her stay,” Gavin says to him, and not missing the shocked expression I throw. Really, his colossal home no doubt contains a zillion bedrooms. I look to him in question. His reply—an eyebrow cock that dares I start an issue.
“Very well.” Jefferies and my stuff strode off and up a staircase, disappearing down a hall. Once out of sight, I whirl on Mr. Vamp-Sir Bossy-Man.
“Yo, creep, is it a requirement you have all guests drool on your pillow?”
“To begin with, you’re the only non VanWrath that’s ever stayed here.” His smooth voice draws close as the rest of him does to the point I feel the delicious hardness, the press of abs. I know I’m not going down in history as the strongest female who can resist the male body.
Nor would I fake trying to.
“I have no problem camping out in another room,” I tell him, softly. Hell, I’m fine on the couch. I can literally sleep anywhere.
Anywhere.
That tree branch I was zonked out on when I was seven was pretty damn comfortable. Discounting the major beatdown I endured by a pack of territorial baby griffins.
“I’d like for you to be in my suite.” Gavin curls a rogue hair behind my ear.
“Why? Do you have some sort of magical spell set up, and wherever the hell you’re at in Monte Carlo, you can automatically feel my presence in your room?”
“Don’t be difficult.” He groans, trapping me in a hold and burying his face in my neck.
“You don’t know me at all, then.” I giggle then sigh, relishing his lips’ caress along my skin. Damn, the little sounds of pleasure I let loose. My heart is pounding, furiously.
And I grow tingly underneath my shorts.
“Okay. I respect your bossy tendencies.” I squeeze his waist hard enough to actually cause him to wince.
“That’s because you think it’s hot,” he whispers in my ear.
“So true. Now, lead on with the house tour, bad boy.”
Chapter Three
The VanWrath mansion, definition: a mecca for the ancient, the bold, and the exudation of wealth.
And loads of empty rooms.
Although Gavin mentions during the walk-through that many family members make pits stop here, none are currently in residence.
Not that I’m complaining. I never pictured myself sharing tea and bloody crumpets with any of them.
First floor layout is a grand living room, a dining room seated for dozens, a lounge lined with credenzas full of crystal bottles of blood. Naturally, a small kitchen. Going east to west we pass several libraries that I peek into. The amount of books is ridiculous. All snug in cases shooting to the ceiling. My eyes bulge, craning my neck. There are ladders available to venture up to any book you want on the top shelf.
In the last study Gavin points to, I stop.
Rich, brown wooden double doors open to a sea of dark green carpet. Blue-white moonlight spills through a tall bay window on one wall, bathing small side tables holding lamps, books, an unlit fireplace and several armchairs.
Above the mantel, the giant painting catches my eye.
A portrait of Lucien VanWrath. Gavin’s Island founding elde
r.
I draw closer, hypnotized by the steely glare the man’s red eyes cast; unmoving yet seeing all.
Chilling any in its path.
The painter captures every grim line, hollow contour, and shadow behind the man—emphasizing pale, lifeless skin. His elongated face projects authority and slight annoyance. I snort. Probably, sick of staying in the same spot for so long. I know the feeling, dude. Especially waiting in a line at Hell Burgers.
“He sat for that two thousand years ago,” Gavin says, quietly, a look of pride blossoming on his handsome features. Loveless, cold tales among vampire culture the humans crafted does not represent the VanWrath family. Although Gavin is the only member on the island, his relationship with the rest is close. We have that in common—even though my family is potatoes inside a sack of crazy.
I intertwine our fingers and we continue with the tour.
Every step I take and peer into more rooms, my jaw drops further and further towards the floor.
The motherfucker has a sauna.
And an indoor pool, that has two whirlpools.
“What the hell?” I gape inside the warm room. Sounds of bubbling water, and the smell of chlorine surround. Gavin frowns, confused.
“What is wrong?”
“This.” I fling a hand at the candy blue pool. “And you. We could’ve been having pool parties every other day here.” I own a hot tub on my cabin deck but that certainly doesn’t equate to the ocean I’m standing before. Hell, the hot tub can only hold four people—just two if Lucas shifts into his tail that takes up so much space.
Gavin laughs, now understanding my baffled mood. “Very true. That’ll happen, then. I definitely would love to see you in a two piece more often.” He swivels us around to the door.
“Or nothing at all.”
“Naughty, Vamp Man.” I roll my eyes. Flashing a hungry smile, he takes me to the back of the mansion, leading out to a marble patio. Beyond it—a massive yard, another pool, and thick forest. Oh, lookie—lots more creepy willow trees.
“I plan to release my wolf sometime soon,” I say, liking the impressive space and scanning the trees lining the yard edge. The moon, a waning gibbous, lights the earth floor through the forest. The prospect of simply running, exploring new territory excites the she-wolf.
High, in the far distance is the large rock formation, Banshee Peak. Seemingly protective of its residences and threatening in the darkness.
I catch Gavin nodding.
“You’ll enjoy it. Just try to stay within a mile straight north—that’s still my property and watch out for the tombstones jutting out from the ground.”
“A cemetery?”
“No, they’re randomly placed throughout the land and may cause you to trip if you don’t have an eye out,” he replies. I begin to receive a funny sense from him.
“So you have dead bodies randomly buried in the woods.” I squint.
“No bodies anymore. The graves were there before I was born. And unmarked. I was told the graves were most likely looted since some carcass parts were still left.” He nonchalantly shrugs. I try to respond but my words were having a hard time.
“Wait, back up. What are you saying? Someone stole them?”
“Weird, huh?” His smile confuses me even more. Then he becomes thoughtful. “Or maybe whole carcasses were never buried to begin with...”
“Yeah...” I hightail back inside.
***
Things after that settle to normal, sort of. Can’t really achieve much of that.
The tour went on.
Upstairs housed many guest bedrooms as I previously predicted—spectacular as ever and ready to accommodate royalty. After leaving a medieval ballroom we go down a shortened hall; a spiral staircase at the end of it, hidden in the shadows. I pause. I intend to ask about it but Gavin pulls me into a bedroom.
This one loaded with his intoxicating scent.
“Welcome to my quarters.” He smirks. “Too bad I have to leave when finally, I have you in it.”
“Raincheck?” I brush past him; steps slow once I reach the center.
“Teasing a vampire is dangerous, Little Wolf,” he warns, low. Ha! I’ve been straddling danger ridden fences since the day my boobs grew in.
He stands close while I smile crookedly at his quarters as he put it.
Truly, I was in Gavin’s domain.
Maroon carpet laid throughout—under a wide canopy, four poster bed. A sitting area of wooden floors has several drawing tables, stools and easels. That’s not a surprise, seeing his artwork and supplies lain any and everywhere in disarray yet, it all appears in perfect position to the man who owes them.
Two short steps go up to a small platform before tall curtains. They bellow as a cool breeze drifts in the room. A balcony.
To the left on the other side is a large bathroom, a walk-in closet and a few dressers.
The place is definitely lived in. There’s no disconnect. Random painted canvases. Stacked sketchbooks. Clothes peeked between drawers. The bed covers are rumpled. I don’t mind the untidiness yet Gavin clears his throat and zips to straighten up.
I find the gesture extremely adorable. He looks sexy and sheepish, his eyes frowning at the bed.
“I, uh,” he scratches the back of his head, “I meant to have this all cleaned earlier and bed linens changed for you—”
“It’s fine.” I cut in, pressing my cheek against his massive torso, holding him close. “It’ll be like you’re in bed with me again.” Not something that hasn’t happened before in mine. And not what you think. That’s already been clarified. After drunken nights of foolery, he’d crash in my bed, resuming the role of King of Spooning—if Jonathan wasn’t already there, snoring like a beat up-muffler dragging-pickup truck. When that happens, Gavin would camp out on the carpeted floor, an extra pillow in hand and blanket. He’d reach up and pinch my toes or I’d reach down and flick his forehead.
Most times we’d whisper jokes and draw little penises on Jonathan’s face.
The lion-shifter is a heavy sleeper. Sometimes. On the rare occasion, he’d roar awake, toss me aside and brawl out with Gavin—as all alphas do for fuck’s sake, completely messing up my room in their fight cloud. Why do you think I don’t mind Gavin’s untidiness? I literally live in a room of shittiness.
And as you’ve presumed—the three of us are a very weird bunch.
Piper is always bummed when I keep telling her, and insist, that engaging in a threesome palooza isn’t a thing that’ll actually occur.
We’re not that close—nor would either man consent to pushing the status of sharing me that far.
Though, that hasn’t stopped those types of fantasies playing out in my in head while in the shower.
***
Leaving the room I’ll soon occupy, I glance at the mysterious stairs again that travel up, disappearing through the next floor above.
A third.
Hmm...
No light casts down. Wherever the steps lead is swallowed by darkness, unknown to curious eyes.
The only pair of such belongs to me.
“The attic?” I wait and wonder if we’ll go up it. Gavin becomes rigid—a trait so unlike his easy-going self. He doesn’t look at me but at the eerie staircase before his portent moment of silence is over.
“Lucien’s dwellings. That’s if he’s in town.”
“Neat, can we—?” I make a step forward but Gavin’s sudden hiss and shout of “NO!” freezes my foot muscles.
“No,” he says much softer. Staring at him like he’s completely lost all his damn vampy marbles wasn’t going to get him to explain that outburst. Instead, he clears the dark expression clouding his face and smiles.
“Come.” Taking my hand, we go in the opposite direction.
Nothing more is said about the peculiar stairs.
Though the word: forbidden, is well implied and well received.
Okaaaay...
Back downstairs, Jefferies stands by the opened doors
, overseeing other staff, I believe, carrying several suitcases outside to an SUV’s trunk.
Gavin explains his early departure.
“I’m boarding a family jet and it’ll need to pick up a few other people I work with for overseas business. I have to leave now, in order to make the meeting at noon tomorrow.”
“Busy, busy. Good thing you don’t require much sleep.” I hop up to loop an arm around his tattooed neck. He follows through, scooping my small body compared to his, in muscled arms. After a couple spins in the middle of the foyer, nearly sideswiping passing staff, he stops to stare at me.
Well, my lips.
And cleavage.
“I would say-eyes up here,” I point to mine, “but I like it when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” His voice low and oozing of sexual flurries that stirs my inner she-wolf.
She pants.
“You know what I mean.” Caressing, a smooth, contoured cheek, I lean in to kiss it. “The Gavin Wants to Devour Everything in Sight look.”
“I’m only mirroring what I see on your face.” He snuggles the crook of my neck and my squeals attract other’s eyes. Sorry, folks, that spot is most sensitive and lavished by a certain vampire.
As well as an absent lion.
Upon that thought, I sadden.
Now, two of my buddies will be gone. Yeah, Gavin won’t be for too long, yet this weekend won’t be the same without him coming to my cabin carrying bags of tacos and munching on them while flicking guacamole at each other.
“I’ll be back.” He mimics Arnold Schwarzenegger and places me on my feet. “Soon, babe.”
After multiple ass gropes and neck kisses, I walk Gavin to the backseat door to the sleek vehicle. The windows are tinted, though I glimpse the head of a man, his driver, getting behind the wheel.
“Oh, and one other thing.” Gavin takes my chin. “If you’re out in the woods at night, make sure you’re inside by 12:07.”
Popcorn, Vampires and Forbidden Shenanigans (Grimstone Island) Page 2