Her Vampire Obsession

by Richardson, Lesli

“You’ll know.” By the time I glance behind me, she’s little more than a white-haired blur heading for the back hallway.

  I shiver. Holy crap, I’m going to meet Ianto fucking Jones!

  And maybe make enough extra to pay my auto insurance early, too.

  Maybe I can have him autograph the C-note I win from him and then get it framed.

  Worth it!

  Despite trying to pay attention and keep an eye on the opening to the hallway, a bachelorette party arrives, and I spend the next fifteen minutes mixing drinks for already drunk women. Several vampires mill around, sensing easy pickings, and I barely manage not to roll my eyes.

  Lucius has a hard rule—no harming humans in the club, and no deaths in the club. Unless it comes from his hand or by his direction, of course.

  But no human deaths on the premises. Or shifters, preferably. Not caused by vampires, anyway. Deaths mean possible attention from the police, and that’s bad for business for a variety of reasons.

  Once the drunk bachelorette party has their first round and is happy, I’m aware of being watched. Nothing unusual there because I get hit on several times a night, mostly by humans but also by the occasional vamp who doesn’t know me.

  This feels…different. Like a prickly feeling between my shoulder blades.

  I turn and wipe down the bar, but what I’m really doing is sweeping the room with my gaze. The dance floor is hopping. The people at the bar are currently sated. The lounge…

  There. I spot Lucius and Selene, and Ianto is with them. I wasn’t paying super-close attention before. It cannot really be the actor.

  Can it?

  I’m just gonna call him Ianto until I know his real name, and maybe even after.

  The more I focus, disappointment trickles in. He probably can’t be the actor because he’s a vampire. I know that much now. Because as I remember the way he moved when he walked through the first time, and now from focusing on where he’s sitting, I can isolate him.

  No heartbeat, and he’s not breathing when he’s not talking. I was too gobsmacked earlier to let common sense take over.

  The whole isolation thing is another talent that’s not human that I can do quite well, but I’m not a vampire, and I’m not a shifter.

  Maybe I’m the result of some mutant military research project, developed in a Data-X lab and then somehow got free. Maybe that’s what my dad was. I always had the feeling there was plenty my mom didn’t tell me about Dad’s history. Whether because she thought she was keeping me safe, or because she didn’t want me to know.

  Or maybe she didn’t even know.

  Ianto’s hunger makes everything else fade away around me, even as I turn to mix a gin and tonic for one of the slutty house elves, as I sometimes call them, to take to a customer.

  Here, have a condom, Dobby.

  Lucius is the most powerful and connected vamp I’ve ever hooked up working for. There are others out there even more powerful, but I avoid nests where the vamps are more interested in hunting than coexisting. Lucius and Selene both swore to protect me and my secret. He’s the first one I’ve ever sold blood to, so I didn’t realize how different I really was until he and Selene first sampled the test vial they drew on me.

  Normally, someone would need to have a serious blooding fetish or be batcrap crazy to associate with vampires the way I do. I’ve always felt safest among them and shifters because most vampires have a serious sense of self-preservation and don’t like to fuck with things stronger than them. Especially things that are day-walkers.

  I’m not the average human. Could one of them snap my neck before I even realized they were behind me? Absolutely.

  Which is why I play to my strengths as a curiosity, an enigma. The whole thing I can do influencing them and being immune to their influence might have helped a smidge, too.

  Thank you, Neimus, my vampire sensei. He might have saved my life with his teachings.

  Lucius is also the first vampire I’ve told as much of my backstory to as possible, and that’s because of Selene. Because if Lucius fell in love with a shifter and mated with her, he can’t be soulless and evil.

  So far, he’s never let me down.

  Which is why I’m a little pissed off that this strange vampire—hunky Ianto doppelgänger or not—is making fangy eyes at me.

  He’s still sitting there talking with Selene and Lucius, but his gaze never leaves me. When other vampires, or human males, come up to the bar to order something, it’s like I feel a wave of possessive energy wash over me from him. Yes, all the way from the other end of the room.

  Dang.

  I shiver, and even my lady bits yawn and stir a little.

  Nope. Not sleeping with a vampire, because sex with them leads to becoming dinner for them. I’m not stupid enough to let one do that to me, especially now that I know how desirable my blood is. I cannot get myself addicted to that and become a sweetblood. I’m protected by Lucius, and it’s a death sentence to fuck with me without my consent.

  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m frigid or anything. Every fanged hunkadoodle in this place who works for Lucius has made it clear they’d be happy to spank and fuck me even without blooding me, but I’m not about to risk my freedom that way. Even if I would like a Dom of my own to watch my back.

  The vamps are hunky, for the most part. Yeah, I might have a suit fetish. Lucius knows what he’s doing in the marketing department. It’s not unusual for first-time vamps here to return on subsequent visits wearing a far better-quality outfit when Lucius’ men snag all the prime Twat Pockets.

  It’s been a while since I’ve slept with anyone, though. Last guy was a couple of years ago, a cheetah shifter, Chad, passing through Tucson and visiting a cousin for a few days. I met him over at the shifter Fight Club when I was there running an errand for Garrett Green. He had no interest in a mate, so I knew he wouldn’t be an asshole and try to mark me.

  He was good. Speedy, but good. Excellent recovery time and long-term stamina, though, so I wasn’t complaining.

  When Mr. Dashing Ianto Wannabe gets up from the table and slowly starts making his way over, trailed by Selene and Lucius, I know I’m going to be playing the name tag game again here shortly. He looks like a vamp not used to hearing no for an answer, much less taking it for one.

  Oh, goodie. This’ll be interesting.

  5

  Dexter

  I feel like I’ll crawl out of my damned skin watching others talk to her, especially other vampires.

  I want to stake the ones who make her smile. Especially since I can sense the vampires’ desire, how much they want to be the first to mark her unblemished throat.

  Lucius leans in, dropping his voice so only Selene and I can hear. “Rule one—you do not violate consent while in my club. Rule two—you do not harm humans on my property. Rule three—that woman is under my protection. Harming her is an automatic death sentence, and any of my men will enforce it immediately, if Selene or I don’t beat them to it. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal.” I throw back the rest of my bourbon and slide out of the booth, so I can make my way over to the bar. I angle toward the far end, where it meets the wall, so I can hopefully have a private word with the woman.

  I’m aware of Lucius and Selene following me, but I don’t care. All I care about is remembering her taste, a taste that fills my senses even now.

  I realize before I’m even halfway across the space that she’s been watching me, aware of me. Whether because I’m sitting with Lucius and Selene or because she happened to notice me, I don’t know.

  Resisting the urge to puff and preen a little, I edge my way up to the end of the bar. She’s currently filling another order, and once she cashes them out, she walks over.

  “What can I get for you, stranger?”

  Her handwritten name tag says Blue, and her hair’s obviously a wig. Adorable, a bright blue pageboy cut that sweeps along her jawline, and I wonder what her real hair color is.

  E
xcept…

  Even as I sniff, I realize I cannot smell…her.

  Normally, someone’s blood still holds at least part of their scent. Hell, humans are like three quarters water, so that makes sense.

  But…

  I glance back at Lucius, who lays a hand on my shoulder. “Blue, my dear, this is my nephew. Everything he orders is on my tab.”

  She props her hands on her shapely round hips. She’s around five-five and has one hell of a gorgeously spankable ass. “Ianto Jones is your nephew, huh? Who’d a thunk?” But she’s smirking, and Selene giggles behind me.

  Finally, my irritation overrides my fascination and attraction. “All right, can someone please tell me who the hell this Ianto guy is?”

  Selene and “Blue” both laugh. “From a TV show,” Selene says. “Torchwood. A Doctor Who spin-off. You’ve never heard of it?”

  “No. I don’t watch much television. I take it Ianto is an actor?”

  “Character,” Selene and Blue say in unison, making both women laugh. “Gareth David-Lloyd is the actor,” Blue adds.

  That’s when I realize she’s looking me right in the eyes.

  I mean, dead-on.

  And she’s not…

  Whoa.

  I literally lean back.

  “Problem?” Lucius softly asks, but make no mistake, he sounds amused.

  I slowly shake my head even as I continue to stare into her beautiful violet eyes. Eyes I can tell are natural, not contacts, not fake, like her hair.

  Violet eyes.

  Eyes a very deep, rich violet that no human has.

  Bewitching eyes.

  Her smirk turns playful, sexy, even. “Hellooo, Sweetie,” she says in a mock British accent.

  “He won’t get that reference, either,” Selene says.

  But I can’t look away from Blue’s eyes. “You’re not a vampire?”

  She tosses the bar towel in her hand over her right shoulder. “Nope.”

  “Not a shifter?”

  She shakes her head.

  Even as I try to compel her to tell me what she is, I realize it’s useless. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m struggling not to fall into the depths of her gaze and totally lose myself there. “Dexter Van Sussex,” I finally manage, extending my hand over the bar.

  She cocks her head and appraises me for a moment before shaking with me. “Blue.”

  Lucius snorts.

  Actually.

  Fucking.

  Snorts.

  This is a set-up on multiple levels, and I’m not sure why.

  I fully realize her name’s not actually Blue. “And I can call you…?”

  With a little flourish, she indicates her hand-written name tag, which identifies her as Blue.

  “What do I have to do to learn your real name?” I’m…desperate for it.

  And let’s be clear that I am never desperate.

  About anything.

  She cocks her head the other way. “Why is that so important to you?”

  “I don’t know,” I honestly answer. It’s like I couldn’t lie even if there were a stake pressed to my chest.

  I watch as her gaze quickly sweeps me, and I feel my cock aching, throbbing in response. Her right eyebrow cockily arches, just a little. This woman is used to setting the terms of her interactions, and that turns me on even more.

  I’d love to be the one who finally wins and tames her.

  She moistens her lips with her tongue and I nearly come. “Then maybe once you can tell me why, we’ll play a little game.”

  “A game?”

  She’s the only one behind the bar, and four people walk up to the far end of it, obviously wanting to place orders.

  Blue glances at them, then Lucius.

  He subtly tips his head, indicating for her to take care of them.

  As she walks away, I want to go rip out the humans’ throats for interrupting us…

  That shocking mental image pulls me up short.

  Holy shit.

  Literally, this is a new reaction for me. My control is never tested like this.

  Not in the better part of two thousand years.

  Lucius’ hand pats my shoulder. “Let me show you around downstairs, Dexter. Then you can come up and try again.”

  I’m still trying to keep my eyes on her even as I back up to follow him. Her gorgeous, rounded hips make that skirt and her hair sway with every step. I always thought heels were sexy, but she’s rocking those Doc Martens boots and her subtle confidence is breathtaking.

  Damn.

  No one’s ever affected me like this before.

  Ever.

  Not even Robert.

  I finally turn and follow Lucius and Selene toward the front entrance, but we divert into the coat check area, where a concealed door leads to a stairwell taking us to the basement.

  “And here we have the hidden gem of Club Toxic,” Lucius says with all the unnecessary fanfare and pomp he’s infamous for. He proceeds to drone on and on about various vampires, cites his reasoning for choosing certain pieces of equipment and their placement and points out some of the kinkier scenes going on. Like a pair of female and male vampires, who have a human male sandwiched between them, her impaled on the human’s cock, and the male vampire’s dick buried inside the human’s ass, both of them snacking on the man.

  The space is dim, with red mood lighting, spotlights highlighting pieces of dungeon equipment, naked people having kinky sex, yadda-yadda—

  Yeah, yeah, I get it. It’s a BDSM club for vampires.

  Right now, I wouldn’t care if it was a high school cafeteria on the fucking moon serving alien tartare as the daily special. “What’s her name?” I ask Lucius as I trail behind them toward a pair of—oh, there they are—literal fucking thrones in the middle of the dungeon space.

  “Selene and I swore never to reveal it. If you wish to know it, you’ll have to ask her.”

  I grab his arm. “That’s…her, though. Right?”

  He smiles. “I’m certain you don’t wish to talk about that in this space, do you, Dexter?” He glances around. There are at least fifteen other vampires down here, not counting his staff.

  Infuriating. He really is. “You dropped this in my lap and don’t want to follow through?” How cruel is he?

  He sucks his lip for a moment, then smiles. “Go back up there and ask her if she’d like to accompany you down here.”

  “And if she says no, what, I’m supposed to scoop her up and carry her down here?” I already know trying to compel her won’t work.

  “I assure you, that won’t be necessary.” He flags down one of his men, whispers to him, and the guy heads upstairs.

  “You’ll order her down here?”

  “No.”

  Desperation the likes of which I’ve never felt before rolls through me. “Then give me a hint, please?”

  “She’ll have someone else up at the bar to cover her in a moment or two. Go back up. Ask her.” His smile widens.

  It hits me. “This is more than a setup.” A little common sense tries to rein in my eager cock and aching fangs. “What’s the deal with you? Why did you play me like this?”

  “Dexter, my nephew. Yesterday, you revealed something rather…unsettling about your potential future plans.” His smile fades. “I have lost too many over time. I would prefer not to lose you, too. But her story is not mine to tell. If my instincts are correct, I believe the two of you will hit it off swimmingly. As long as you don’t fuck this part up.” He waggles his fingers at me in a shooing motion. “Go win your prize and show me my faith in you isn’t misplaced.”

  I fight the urge to blur back upstairs, but I do make haste. True to his word, there’s now a second bartender behind the bar with Blue. I glare at two barely legal and overwhelmingly drunk human women who now stand where I previously stood, and they skedaddle.

  Blue sees me, but she’s serving a couple right now. As I watch her, I fight what feels like a losing war against my fangs. I know Blue is aware
of me because even among the noise and distraction of the other patrons, I hear the way her pulse spikes every time she glances my way. Her gorgeous, smooth throat beckons to me and makes my mouth water. I can imagine my lips traveling up and down her flesh, how warm she’ll feel, the sexy cries she’ll give me as my fingers explore between her legs.

  It feels like forever before she makes her way back down to me.

  “What can I get for you, Not-Ianto?” She smiles.

  “Your name, for starters.” Gods, looking into her eyes…it’s like I can reach out and touch the cosmos.

  She looks down at her name tag and back up to me.

  “Your real name. Come downstairs with me to talk. Please?”

  Somehow, I feel like I just fell into a trap I’m helpless to extricate myself from, because her smile turns predatory and she cocks that eyebrow again. “You want me to go downstairs with you?”

  I nod, well aware my erection is insistently pressing against the front of my slacks. Thankfully, the bar hides that from her.

  “I don’t play or do…other things. Especially not here.”

  I was right—her throat is unblemished. Certainly, it’s possible she bears marks elsewhere, but Lucius said she’s unblooded. “Only to talk. I give you my word.” Not sure how I’ll honor that vow, but I will damn sure try.

  “Oh, I know it would only be to talk. Because if you tried something, I’d scream, and Lucius or one of his men would part your head from your shoulders before I even shut my mouth, if I didn’t stake you myself first.” She delivers that in a bright, playful tone, which chills me all the more but also makes my mouth water.

  I hold up my hands. “Only to talk. I’ll pay just to talk with you.”

  She pretends to evaluate me, but I can already tell I’ve walked into whatever trap this is.

  Shockingly enough, I don’t want to free myself.

  “You want to put money on it? A little wager?”

  I lean in, half over the bar. “Anything.”

  “Got a hundred on you?”

  My wallet’s already in my hand, and I withdraw not one but five hundred-dollar bills and hold them up. “There.” If that’s all it’ll take, I’ll give her my whole damn wallet.