Her Vampire Obsession

by Richardson, Lesli

  She answers on the first ring, giggling. “Well?”

  “This was Dexter?”

  “Uh, duh. He likes you.”

  “Let’s not buy me flowers. Nooo, let’s buy me a set of tires literally worth more than twice what my ride’s worth.” Hell, he probably spent more on the tires than I did on my engine and transmission overhaul. “Should I be creeped out?”

  “No. Hey, you needed tires. Right?”

  I grumble. “Yes.”

  “Say, ‘Thank you, Dexter. That was very thoughtful of you. I appreciate it.’ Go ahead and practice it now, so you know how to say it later.”

  Ugh! “Smart-ass.”

  She giggles again. “Better than a dumb-ass. Enjoy dinner!”

  My attorney bestie hangs up on me.

  Okay, then.

  On my way to the club, I stop and buy another prepaid credit card with the extra cash I held back last night. As I’m waiting for the clerk to activate it, I wonder what it must be like to be Dexter Van Sussex. He’s probably rich enough to never think about how much something costs. Probably plops down a black AmEx and pays it off every month.

  Must be nice.

  His little purchase on my behalf probably didn’t even blip on his radar in terms of expense. Which was spendy, no doubt, considering how much I know those tires cost. Between the price of the tires themselves and then getting them so fast—and paying someone to do a record-fast tire change on my car, without my keys, in the parking lot of my apartment building…

  Well, you can’t snag a Groupon for that kind of service.

  No matter what Amber says, I don’t know if that makes me feel good or not. He can buy whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

  I wonder if he thinks I can be bought?

  Guess we’ll find out.

  The reserved staff parking area behind Club Toxic is empty when I pull into my spot. Another reason I like arriving first and leaving last is that I don’t have to look at the other cars parked around mine. How pitiful mine looks in comparison. The runt of the litter next to Bugattis and Mercedes and Ferraris and Lambos or whatever exotic flavor of metal the staff vamps decide to roll up in on any given night. Several of them have multiple cars. Lucius usually has a driver and security for him and Selene, but every once in a while, he’ll drive.

  Why do I do this to myself? Why do I choose to live like this?

  I could walk down to the basement tonight, stroll up to one of Lucius’ hunky men, let them taste me, and be set for life. I’ve heard how they talk about my blood, not that they know it’s mine. Every last one of them are hunks in suits, rich—loaded.

  They’d be territorial and not share me.

  For the rest of my life, however long it is, I could be taken care of, kept happy.

  Have my ass spanked every night. Get all the vamp D I want, whenever I want it. Whatever it takes to keep me a subby little sweetblood. Be a pampered pet human.

  That could all be…mine.

  Dexter Van Sussex could be mine. Or, rather, I’d be his.

  Because you can’t really ever own a vampire’s heart, can you?

  Except for my secret occasional supernatural stalker. I won’t put someone else in jeopardy. My left hand touches the ring on the chain through my shirt.

  Pain blossoms in my right hand, and I realize I punched my steering wheel.

  Flexing my fingers, I study my short, unpainted nails. I keep them trimmed. I don’t bother getting manicures. I don’t waste money on that. Besides, having long claws makes it tougher to do my fricking job.

  Hurts more if I have to punch someone.

  Not like I’m the prettiest waitress here, or the sexiest.

  I’m basically the human housemother. Especially since I’m older than most of the humans here.

  I stare out at the sunbaked streets around me. Waves of heat shimmer off the sidewalks and pavement. I never see the city at night, unless I’m staring at it through my apartment window. Most nights, I’m inside Club Toxic.

  Sort of ironic. The mirror image of the vampires.

  I head inside, disarm the alarm, and set about my usual routine, including getting my name tag.

  Nothing’s going to happen tonight beyond having dinner and curling up on the office couch to sleep once Dexter’s left.

  I’m not banging a hot vamp who bought me freaking expensive tires and had my ride detailed.

  Nope.

  Not doing it.

  Definitely not.

  Even if he does look like Ianto.

  10

  Dexter

  John and Mark came through for me. They used the private jet to fetch the tires from LA early this morning. When I awaken late that afternoon, I find confirmation, including photos, that Eilidh’s SUV now has new top-of-the-line tires, and it’s been detailed for her, including cleaning the headlamps so she can actually freaking see the road at night.

  I hope she likes it.

  Smiling, I get out of bed early. After using the bathroom, I crawl back into bed with my laptop and all the episodes of Torchwood purchased through Amazon Prime.

  Yep. I’m going to start watching them.

  This must be obsession, right? Especially since I would normally start working on e-mails and phone calls whenever I awaken this early.

  I mean, that’s what I’ve always done in the past. Made use of daylight hours when I’m conscious, which also helps keep my clueless human staff from getting suspicious about my unusual hours.

  Not today.

  Vacation day.

  A me day ahead of a me night with Eilidh.

  Lying in bed, I prop my laptop on my chest and start watching. I looked up pictures of the show’s cast. If Eilidh thinks I resemble this Ianto guy, I can live with that. I’m flattered, even. It’s been so damned long since I’ve seen my own face that I couldn’t pick myself out of a police lineup if someone had a stake pressed against my chest at five seconds before sunrise. I’ve never been vain enough to have my portrait painted, much less patient enough to sit for one.

  Plus, that usually requires daylight, and that is an uncomfortable conversation that could possibly raise someone’s suspicions. Vampire mental mojo powers or not, I prefer not taking unnecessary chances.

  It’s nearly seven when my phone buzzes with another text. This time from Selene.

  Done. Enjoy! :) I think you two will be great together.

  I can only hope Selene’s enthusiasm is a good portent of my future. She goes on to detail the arrangements. Augustus is bringing everything and will help me set up our private dinner in the conference room upstairs.

  I’m to see Theophilus when I arrive tonight, and he will escort me upstairs.

  I stare at Selene’s messages for a long moment. She’s barely a couple of years old in vampire years. She’s still easily able to remember what it felt like being a human.

  I envy her that.

  For the first time in as long as I can remember, I truly feel hopeful about something.

  Thank you so much for your help. You and Lucius both. I am indebted to you.

  She responds a moment later.

  Just don’t screw this up! I’d love to see both of you happy.

  I smile and set my phone aside. That makes two of us.

  * * *

  Eventually, I force myself to put my computer away, and I call in John and Mark to see if there’s anything I need to handle today. They’ve been in touch with the office and know when to kick ass for me, so I’m not forced to.

  Because when I’m forced to, heads roll.

  Eh, metaphorically speaking. Meaning people are fired. Jeez, what kind of monster do you think I am?

  Wait, please don’t answer that.

  Lucius has also talked to Garrett Green, and I have a personal meeting with him tomorrow night, which Green is arranging through Eilidh. Or, Connie, as the shifters apparently know her, another assumed name I’m not to reveal at the club.

  I struggle against the urge to leave my room as soon
as it’s safely dark outside. Now that I have a reason to want to live again, it’s like Eilidh’s soaked into every cell of my body and drawing me to her.

  Or, maybe I’m a crazy, old fool. Obsessed.

  Even if I could overpower her with my mind, I wouldn’t. I want enthusiastic consent. Here’s to hoping she wasn’t creeped out by my gesture.

  Although, yes, it was sooo tempting to buy her a car and have the dealership drop the keys off with her.

  That would be overkill.

  Maybe on date number three I can upgrade her ride for her.

  Or…not.

  We’ll see how this one goes. I’m not guaranteed anything.

  I drive to the club and park close to where I did the night before. It’s almost a quarter ’til ten, and there’s a line to get in. I head straight to the entrance, where one of Lucius’ men admits me.

  “I’m supposed to see Theophilus,” I tell the bouncer.

  He points, and I spot Theophilus near the lounge area, talking with a couple of humans. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to blur over to him.

  When he spots me, he wraps up his conversation with the humans and joins me. “Augustus just took everything upstairs.” He leads me to the back hallway and punches in his code to the stairwell door. Upstairs, he lets us into the office, and immediately, I scent her.

  And food.

  I hear her and a male’s throaty laugh. Territoriality rolls through me, and it’s all I can do not to race around my guide to find her.

  Except that’d be bad form, and I’m trying to make a good impression.

  He leads me to the conference room, where Eilidh and Augustus are unpacking the food. The aroma says chicken piccata, most likely. Vampires don’t have to eat or drink anything but blood, but we can and do enjoy it.

  “Hello, Blue,” I say.

  I love that a sweet, pink blush fills her cheeks. “Hey. Let me guess—”

  “Selene and Lucius offered to help when I asked for information about arranging this. I hope that was all right?” Not going to start off trying to lie to her about it or take credit for something I didn’t do.

  She shrugs, but she looks pleased. “Good choice.”

  The other two vampires have paused and are looking to her for guidance. Eilidh takes a deep breath and smiles again before turning to them. “Thank you for the help, guys. We’ll be all right.”

  “Lucius told us to hang out up here, if you want us to,” Theophilus says.

  She meets my gaze with a steady one of her own. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Will it?” she asks me, but I also know it’s a statement.

  I shake my head. “On my life, I swear it.”

  “We’ll hold you to that,” Augustus growls, but the two of them retreat.

  Once we’re alone, I help her finish unpacking and plating our meals. “They’ll have someone stationed downstairs, won’t they?” I ask.

  She snorts. “Oooh, yeah. Probably in the stairwell. Lucius won’t take a chance with me.” She blows out a breath. “Thanks for the tires. And the detail job. That was endearingly stalky and unexpected, but thoughtful, and greatly appreciated.”

  I love her sense of humor and her fearlessness around me. “Your tires were a death trap. And so were those headlights. And no,” I quickly add, “I don’t expect anything in return. I had a lovely time chatting with you, and you agreed to give me more of your time on your night off. It’s the least I could do.”

  We’re eating at one end of a large conference table. Real wood, not some cheap-ass thing. Lucius doesn’t skimp. Once our food is arranged, I hold Eilidh’s chair for her and help her scoot it in. There are crystal wine goblets, but she’s drinking water.

  I have a goblet of water and one of blood.

  I pick up my water glass and raise it in a toast. “To new friends.”

  Her gaze narrows a little, but she clinks glasses with me. “To new friends.” It’s uncanny how her gaze holds mine as she sips. “Why do I get the feeling you’re now obsessed with me?”

  Several options flash through my mind, but I once again settle on the truth. “I suppose I am. But that’s my problem, not yours.”

  “If I’m the obsessee, it sort of makes it my problem by default, doesn’t it?”

  “No. Because I’m not an idiot, and I have self-control.”

  She studies me. “I’m debating how to handle tomorrow night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I should let your men pick me up at home or meet you here and ride together. Or meet you there.” She scowls, her gaze briefly unfocusing. “Not happy about traveling at night, but there’s no other option.”

  I want to pick her up and drive her, but I didn’t get to be my age by being impetuous. “Your decision. Even if you wish to change your mind at the last minute. Or, you could meet me at my hotel. You could arrive before dark, if you wish. If that helps?”

  “I’ll let you know.” She cocks her head again. “You’re not like other vampires, and I don’t know why.”

  “Not many as old as I am.”

  She takes a bite of, yes, her chicken piccata, and happily sighs. “Selene has an excellent memory.” She takes another bite. “For my birthday last year, she and Lucius gave me a gift card to this place. I don’t eat out very often.”

  I want to memorize every line on her face, every whisper of her breath, every beat of her pulse. It’s tempting to quiz her about not traveling at night, but I resist. “I appreciate you accompanying me tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, well, Garrett likes that you can’t mojo me. He wants me there as backup. He doesn’t stay Alpha by taking stupid risks.”

  “I don’t understand. Backup?”

  “I’m a secret weapon. You don’t think I survived this long working at Club Toxic and not being blooded by being a pushover, did you?” She points at her eyes with two fingers, then to me and back again. “The whole ‘can’t be mojoed’ thing.”

  “Lucius hinted that you are very…special. That’s all he would tell me. That I needed to ask you directly.”

  “Are you asking?”

  I pick up the glass of blood and sip to buy myself a moment. It’s a blend, but she’s in it.

  Oh, I should mention my cock’s been hard ever since I sat down, and the taste of her rolling along my tongue only amplifies my condition.

  “I understand trust is built over time, and that there are things you will not wish to tell me. I’m content to accept whatever you want to reveal to me, on your timeframe. I also know Lucius didn’t get as old as he is by not being very careful and following his instincts. If he considers you part of his inner circle, that’s a sign of his trust and his faith in you. I have nothing but time, in abundance. That means I’ll wait.”

  “I’m not looking forward to tomorrow night. Not because of you, but because of the time of day.”

  I slowly nod. “I understand, and I appreciate it greatly.”

  She takes a bite of her green beans. They were prepared perfectly, with just the right amount of tenderness to them, and naturally sweet. “If I tell you something, anything, I expect you to hold my secrets the way I’d hold yours.”

  “Absolutely.”

  I can tell she’s weighing a decision quite heavily, and I resist the urge to make her any promise I can about keeping her safe.

  This has to be in her time, not mine.

  “So…here’s the thing. Tomorrow, when we’re there, you need to drop whatever bullshit vampire machismo instincts you have and follow my lead. Do what I say. If you can’t do that, tell me now.”

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you, though.”

  “Yeah, see, that’s not a concern. Not while we’re there. Not a single shifter in that place will hurt me. It’s you who needs to worry.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. You stay with me, and you don’t look them in the eyes and challenge them. Some of them might try to bait you. There might be other vampires there, too. Some
of them Lucius’ men, some not. You ignore them, too. If any of them make comments to me, you ignore them. You don’t have a right to be territorial about me. You want me to help you with this introduction, then you do this my way.”

  I nod, as much as it grates on me. “Understood.”

  “See, I do errands for them. For Lucius and his men, too. I know things about some of the vampires in this area that not even their frequent booty calls know. I know where crypts are. I have alarm codes and access that some of their human employees don’t have.

  “But with the shifters, I also have access. I’ve helped out in emergencies as a babysitter. I’ve run errands between shifter groups when neither trusted the other. I’ve been a go-between when shifters needed to do business with vampires for whatever reason. Yes, I’m on Lucius’ payroll for the club, but everyone knows I’m my own person and a freelancer. I live in Garrett Green’s building, for crying out loud. I’m friends with both his mate and with Lucius’ mate.

  “I can tell you’ve figured part of it out, between the taste of my blood and what you don’t smell.” She takes another bite of her chicken. “So, go ahead and ask it.”

  I do. “What are you?”

  She shrugs. “I wish I could tell you. Lucius and Garrett can’t tell me, either. Garrett and his pack helped shut down a secret program called Data-X. Government black ops labs. Trying to experiment on shifters, captive breeding, shit like that. Sanctioned torture is what it was. My mom’s stepfather was in the military. Maybe she or my father were experimented on. I don’t know. I never will know. I don’t even think I have my father’s real first name, and I don’t know his true last name.”

  She sits back, as if realizing she just said more than she meant to. “Or, I might be some sort of human hybrid with a shifter no one else has encountered. I could have a funky gene mutation and coincidentally crossed paths with the supernatural beings walking our world. I have no idea.”

  “What does that have to do with why you won’t go out at night?”