Welcome to Castle Cove

by Kory M. Shrum

  I shrug. “It’s been a challenge.”

  He nods, and I remember Aiden’s story about his own attack and transformation at just thirteen years old. He must understand what I mean, though I don’t dare bring that up now.

  “So is this the best bar in town?” I ask.

  “Yes,” the bartender and Liam say in the same breath.

  The bartender places my drink on a black napkin and slides it across the bar.

  “You may be biased,” I say with a teasing smile.

  The bartender laughs. “Undoubtedly. This is a Southern Manhattan.”

  “It looks just like a martini, glass and all.” Except of course that it’s full of thick dark red liquid.

  “Enjoy,” he says. I pull out my credit card to start a tab.

  “She’s on the house,” Liam says, but the bartender was already waving my card away.

  “Thank you,” I say, turning so Aiden can see my confused expression.

  “This is Liam’s bar,” Aiden says, leaning in beside me.

  “Oh,” I say, suddenly glad I didn’t say anything bad about the bar. “Nice place.”

  “Thank you.”

  I sip my drink, unsure on how to carry this conversation along. Fortunately, I don’t have to. Aiden carries it easily, bringing both Liam and I in on appropriate turns.

  Before I know it, I’ve tried four of the cocktails and found that three a.m. has crept up on me.

  “I have business to deal with before the night’s over, little brother,” Liam announces, standing up from his stool. “Why don’t you take her to the Heights?”

  Aiden’s blush can be seen even in the dimly lit bar.

  With a polite good night, Liam disappears into the crowd and is gone.

  “Would you like another drink?” the bartender asks. “It’s still on the house.”

  “No, I think I’m done for the night.”

  Aiden seems to find his voice again. “Would you like to go somewhere else? It doesn’t have to be the Heights.”

  The sweet way in which he asks is beyond charming.

  “Is your car here?” I ask.

  “Yes?”

  “Want to take a drive? I’d love a tour. I have a feeling Castle Cove as a vampire is different than Castle Cove as a human. But you seem like a knowledgeable guy.”

  His smile is so damn cute. “Come on.”

  I place a generous tip on the bar. Free drinks or no, I want the bartender to know I appreciated his time and attention.

  “Hope to see you again,” the bartender says with a wink. “Have fun.”

  Aiden takes my hand and pulls me through the club. His palm is so warm in mine. He leads me out into the night and across the street to a yellow Jeep parked a row over from my own car.

  He opens the door for me and waits for me to climb in before shutting the door.

  He takes me up the dark Canyon Road toward Vendetta Heights. He pauses at a bar on the edge of town. It’s like an old-timey saloon that I passed coming into town with a great red sign reading The Crossroads. The wooden porch and overhang. The large doors. The swell of music trailing out into the night, not completely unlike that haunting siren song.

  “A demon bar,” Aiden explains, my hand still loosely in his. I know I should be thinking about what he’s saying but I can’t think beyond the warm hand in mine. “People trades their souls for all kinds of things.”

  “Do I have a soul to trade?” I ask.

  “You do,” he says. “Because you’re still alive. So be careful with that.”

  Duly noted.

  We continue up on the upper ridge to the large plain connecting the cliffs to the woods. A few cars sit shadowed in the field.

  He pulls off the road onto the gravel shoulder. The moon hangs high above the ocean, illuminating the interior of the car.

  “Vendetta Heights is a place where anyone comes for a little privacy,” he says, his cheeks tinged with red. “Popular vampire feeding ground. They bring their ‘dates’ up here.”

  “Is that why we’re here?” I ask with a coy grin.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.

  “In a fashion,” I whisper. And I don’t know if it’s the bloody cocktails, or a vampire thing, but I’m feeling very daring.

  I lean across the console.

  “I can hear your heart racing. Are you afraid of me?” I whisper.

  He reaches across the console and pulls me into his lap. My back presses against the cold window.

  “No,” he says, his breath hot on my face.

  I place a hand on either side of his face and kiss his mouth. I love the way his lips stick slightly to mine.

  “Tell me about Castle Cove,” I whisper into his mouth. I want him to talk. Anything to slow down this moment before I get too excited.

  “There’s lots of bars. Vampire bars, werewolf bars. There’s a brothel run by a Succubus.”

  “Nice,” I say.

  “And the howling you hear north of Cliffside is the wolves. They run in the Wayward Woods. And there are sirens in the cove. Don’t get into the water outside the designated swimming area. Especially at night.”

  “Okay.” I suck on his bottom lip until I can feel his erection pressing into the side of my thigh lying against his lap. “What else?”

  He’s panting. “There are dryads and wendigos in the western part of the woods. Plenty of shifters in town. And witches.”

  “Witches?” I ask, kissing my way to his neck.

  “There’s a shop in Old Town that specializes in spells. Trinkets. Gris-gris bags, amulets, that sort of—”

  He stops speaking the moment I kiss the side of his neck.

  “Are you pescatarian by chance?” I whisper.

  “I am.”

  He smells so good. I reach up and grab a handful of his hair, kissing his throat again and again while I drown in his scent. A sharp sting behind my upper lip brings me back to myself and I pull back, covering my mouth with my hand.

  “It’s okay,” he says, pulling at my hand. “I haven’t donated in a few days. If you want to…it’s okay.”

  It seems his permission is all I need. I slip my fangs right into the side of his neck. His arms wrap around me, holding me tight against him. His erection grows harder and harder as I suck him down.

  The thunderous pulse that began against my lips echoes in my head, pounding in my temples until it links with mine.

  I pull back. The blood keeps flowing.

  “Oh god,” I say, my fangs retracting. “You’re still bleeding.”

  “There’s anticoagulant in your saliva,” he says. “You have to close the holes with your blood. Bite your tongue.”

  I don’t hesitate. I bite my tongue, feel the flesh split open. I lick the side of his neck and pull back in time to see the holes close as if by magic. I keep licking until the skin is clean, though shiny with my spit. All that’s left is the smallest hint of a bruise from where I sucked. He’ll have a nice hickey in the morning.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, kissing the damp skin.

  “For what?” he laughs. He looks up at me with a lazy, satisfied smile. “That was so hot.”

  “That could’ve gone horribly wrong.”

  “I had faith in you,” he says, grinning up at me. He reaches up and runs a thumb across my chin. It comes away bloody.

  “Oh.” Embarrassment washes through me. “I probably look ridiculous.”

  “You don’t.”

  But he opens the console and pulls out wet wipes anyway. I let him tear open the packet and dab at my chin and cheeks. When he moves back my hair to inspect my neck for blood, he leans forward and kisses it.

  I don’t stop him. It feels just as delicious as drinking from him, satisfying a different desire.

  “It’s an hour before sunrise,” he says. “I should take you back to your car.”

  “Or back to my place,” I say with a smile. “The car can wait.”

  Ten minutes later we pull up outs
ide my apartment in Old Town. I barely remember getting up the stairs into the apartment—just my mouth desperately trying to devour his. My hands stay wrapped up in his hair and his strong arms pinning me against his warm body.

  I wake the next evening, and the countless nights that follow, to his kisses and bright green eyes. I never thought it would be possible to find such a man, one who fed me so completely—body and soul. But I have that with Aiden.

  All in all, I would say I have no regrets. I finally feel like I know where I belong.

  The End

  Create a new story

  Call Ethan Benedict and apologize for missing our meeting.

  Unexpected vampirism or not, I don’t want to seem like a flake to my new boss. At the very least I need to call and apologize for not coming to Labyrinth.

  When I open my phone to find Mr. Benedict’s numbers, I see that the last number called was my voicemail.

  Funny. I don’t remember calling it since coming home from the hospital.

  Did I accidentally delete a message from Mom or maybe even Laura? I’ll try to retrieve it after I speak to Mr. Benedict.

  “Good evening. I was wondering when I would hear from you.” I’m more than a little surprised when I hear Ethan Benedict’s sultry voice. I was expecting his assistant or his voicemail.

  “I wanted to apologize for missing Labyrinth the other night.”

  “That’s unnecessary. You had a very good reason. Did you receive the flowers?”

  “They’re beautiful.” I glance over at the bouquet on my kitchen island. Dr. Grange put the other two in the living room and bedroom respectively. “Thank you.”

  I sink onto the sofa and pull a pillow across my lap. I wonder how I’m going to end this call.

  “If you’re feeling up to it, you should come by Labyrinth this evening. Doors open in two hours and I can send a car. I’d still love to show you around the club and get your input on its possibilities.”

  Choice 29

  Call Dr. Grange and ask her where baby vamps hang out

  Accept the offer

  Accept the offer

  I’m so grateful that he still wants me on the account and doesn’t seem to care that now I’m a vampire. Wow, this town must really be different.

  As one of its leading residents Ethan could be the best person to educate me about its history. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to figure all this out.

  “You’ve been incredibly generous, Mr. Benedict. I’d love to come by.”

  “Great. I’ll tell John to pick you up at ten. Is that long enough to get ready?”

  I glance at the clock. Two hours. “Yes, it should be plenty of time.” I just need to throw on a dress and fix my hair and makeup. Maybe drink another pint or two.

  “See you soon,” he says, and it feels like such a sexy promise that I terminate the call with a huge smile on my face.

  I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair.

  Step 1: Run a hot bath. Once the steaming water begins to fill the deep, white tub, I undress. The moment I slip inside the tub to soak, every muscle in my back begins to uncoil itself. God, I needed this.

  As is always true of bath time, my mind wanders.

  I wonder about Ethan and what secrets he must have. If I’m a vampire, what is he?

  Vampires are the stuff of bedtime stories or tales told around a campfire. They’re sex symbols splashed across novels clutching dreaming women in sheer nightgowns (and a generous amount of nipple if we are being honest here).

  They can’t be real. They can’t walk around a town like Castle Cove. Live here. Work here. Have a life here. Right?

  But they do. I do. And whether I like it or not, I’m part of that story now. And I better figure out how to make this work.

  I’ll start by meeting with my boss-client, I tell myself. Focus on what I’m good at—my job—until things begin to feel normal again. Until I can forget that there are pints of blood in my fridge.

  My phone chirps reminding me that I have only forty minutes to dry my hair and get dressed before the car arrives. I reluctantly climb from the tub.

  I’ve got the clothes thrown across the bed and my hair up in a towel. I manage to get my black dress, heels and makeup on in record time. I still have ten minutes to spare.

  Just enough time for a glass of wine, I think.

  Glass of blood, I correct myself and wonder how long I’ll be going back and forth like this, trying to get my brain to accept this new reality.

  In the kitchen, I select another blood pack. I’m going to need to visit the blood stand soon. I better keep this job if I plan to pay for all this blood…or I’m going to be out in Hyde Park hunting rabbits sooner rather than later.

  I’m halfway through the glass when I hear a car in the street below. The brakes squeal as it slides up the curb. It’s the driver. I gulp the rest of the blood and run to the bathroom to check my teeth. They’re as pink as I imagined, so I rinse and spit into the sink until the basin is clean and my smile white.

  There’s a knock on the door.

  “One minute!” I call.

  “No rush, ma’am.”

  When I open the door, I find a handsome man on the other side. He’s a little taller than me, with dimples I recognize. There’s something about that smile.

  “Hi, I’m John. I’m here to drive you to Labyrinth.”

  “Are you related to Aiden by chance? Aiden Carlson?” I ask, certain I already know the answer.

  He tilts his head, surprised. “I am.”

  “I see the resemblance.”

  “Did you meet him at the hospital?”

  “I did,” I say. I hesitate, grabbing my phone and wallet and placing all the essentials in a clutch that matches my sleek, black dress. I fumble with the pearl button clasp. “Sweet guy.”

  “Yeah, he’s always been sweet. Since we were kids.”

  John waits patiently on the landing as I lock up my apartment, calling a farewell to Sushi. He reaches the car before I do and opens the back door for me.

  “In you go,” he says, flashing more dimple.

  The backseat is leather and warm.

  The better to hide the blood, I think. More grim thoughts I’d never had in my old life.

  The inside of the car is lit up by lights running along the ceiling. I’m glad of this. I’m not sure I could sit in pitch black back here. Not as creeped out as I am.

  And he also has the partition down, which allows more light from the street to filter inside.

  Once John is behind the wheel, he angles the mirror, so I can see his face and gives me one last dashing smile. “All right back there? Nice and comfy?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I say and find the smile comes easier now. I’m actually a little excited to get out of the house.

  He doesn’t force a fake smile. Instead, his voice is full of concern when he says, “May I ask why you were in the hospital?”

  “I was attacked. You probably already know the story. Mason saved my life.”

  “You were the one who Henry and Richard attacked for trying to help Josephine.”

  “And Mason saved my life. I hope Aiden passed along my thanks.”

  “We’re so glad you pulled through,” John says, with a smile. “How are you adjusting?”

  I give a so-so wave with my hand. I’m hoping that by looking at the streetlights, and people laughing in the streets I can push memories of Henry’s snarling face out of my head.

  Silence fills the car.

  He breaks it. “You’ll come to love this place. Just give it time.”

  “I’m trying.” God, I’m trying. “You came to the cove as kids, right?” I ask, trying out the nickname for the town on my tongue. I like it.

  He arches an eyebrow.

  “Aiden was trying to make me feel better. He told me about Liam.”

  This seems to be the right answer. His shoulders relax. “Yeah, it was a good move for our family.”

  I try to imagine
what Castle Cove is like for most of its residents. What happened to me was the exception, not the rule, right? “Would you say that normally Castle Cove is a safe place?”

  He hesitates. “We get trouble from time to time, but nothing Mr. Benedict hasn’t been able to handle. And it really is the best place for people like us.”

  “Like us…” I repeat.

  John meets my eyes. “I’m a werewolf.”

  Confusion presses in again.

  “It was by choice,” he says. “Totally different than Liam’s change.”

  “Or mine.”

  His eyes soften then, meeting mine in the rearview. “I’m sorry.”

  I fall against the seat. Tension I didn’t realize I held in my shoulders and back released.

  Finally he speaks. “I’m sure it’s hard to believe after what happened to you, but this is a good town for our kind. And you are one of us.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper. My throat tight. “I appreciate that.”

  The car rolls to a stop at the curb. “Here we are.”

  I lean toward the window and look up at the gleaming sign. Labyrinth glows in a soft electric blue, coloring its stone exterior in a spectral glow. A muscular man as tall as he is wide stands behind a velvet rope, the kind one might see in a movie theater corralling those in queue.

  The back door opens and there is John, offering his hand, palm up.

  I take it and allow him to help me out of the back of the car. He pulls me up onto the curb and introduces me to the doorman.

  “Mr. Benedict’s guest,” he informs him. The muscle behind the sunglasses—why is he wearing sunglasses at night?—gives a polite nod of his head and begins unhooking the velvet rope.

  “All right.”

  “Wait, let me tip you,” I say, digging in my clutch for the $20 bill I know I must have in there.

  John closes his warm hand over mine. “Mr. Benedict has already taken care of it. Just go inside, order yourself a drink, and he’ll find you at the bar. It shouldn’t be long.”

  My heart starts pounding in my chest and John only laughs harder.