Her Vampire Obsession

by Richardson, Lesli

  #vampzoned

  Besides, he might not be exactly…single.

  “Yeah. Small private passenger, not a cargo delivery.”

  “Ah. Darn.”

  I swipe through to the FedEx app to track his package. “Your cocotte isn’t scheduled to land here until tomorrow, boss. It’s still on its way to Anchorage.” He placed an order for a Le Creuset Dutch oven and he’s dying to get it, even though he already has three fricking Dutch ovens.

  They’re expensive as hell, but apparently the recipe he wants to try uses that particular one, and he’s an old, rich, stubborn, and borderline anal-retentive vampire. Even though he can use one of the others, he wants to use that one, because fates forbid he deviates from the recipe in the slightest, even though it says you don’t have to use that particular one.

  #shrug

  What are you gonna do?

  Plus, he’s got a special edition Star Wars one coming with it. Which, I mean, seriously, I’ve spent less money for a full set of cheap new tires on the 4Runner in the past than he did on two damn pieces of cookware.

  We should also receive his next order of human blood in tomorrow’s delivery. It’s a regular shipment, designed to keep ahead of his need so there’s no worry about him running low should there be any supply line issues. It is fricking Alaska, after all.

  “Any news from Corbin today?” he asks a little too casually.

  “Not yet.” I glance at the time. “He’ll probably check in soon.” He checks in every day. I suspect there is way more than an employer-employee dynamic between the two. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but the way Corbin sends me reminders about things to do for Chaldis, and the slightly too-casual way Chaldis asks about Corbin, pings my instincts.

  Meaning I’m reasonably sure there’s something there. Corbin’s single and has worked for and lived with Chaldis for over fifteen years, even though Corbin barely looks like he’s older than his mid-twenties. I suspect there’s been at least a few blood exchanges between the two. Probably quite a few receiving on Corbin’s end, if I take Corbin’s youthful appearance into account. Maybe Corbin’s a sweetblood. Who knows?

  But it’s not my business.

  At allll.

  I mean, the fact that I’m in the second-biggest bedroom, which is a guest room, and Corbin apparently sleeps in the same bed as Chaldis, is another huge honking clue.

  But the men didn’t mention it, so I won’t be so gauche as to bring it up. They’re both consenting adults, right?

  “I hope he’s all right,” he quietly says. “I worry so about him when he leaves.”

  “Why don’t you travel with him?”

  He snorts. “The logistics are insane.” He glances my way. “I am rich by human standards, but I am not Lucius Frangelico or Dexter Van Sussex rich. I also don’t wish to place an extra emotional burden on my b—I mean, on him.”

  “Burden on your…?”

  Okay, so I am a little nosy. Sue me.

  He sighs and plants his hands on the counter before meeting my gaze. “You are an intelligent woman. You tell me.”

  “He’s yours.” I close the tablet’s cover and set it aside. “He’s your boy, right?”

  He nods. “Does that bother you?”

  “No. Should it? I mean, did you compel him to be that to you?”

  He smiles as he shakes his head. “No. He arrived in Homer, and we met at a hotel bar. I did not have to compel him. Not that first night, or any other since. He loves me, and I love him.”

  “Well, there you go, then. Sounds copacetic to me. Consenting adults.”

  “I hate that I cannot be there with him to help him through this, but I know I cannot, for many reasons.” He focuses on me. “But what about you? Seems like you’ve referred to your Dexter in a way that’s more than friends or lovers.”

  “We talking as equals now and have a trust box?”

  “Of course.”

  I blink away the unexpected tears. “I thought Dexter and I were going to have…that. Him be my Sir. He’s definitely an in-charge kind of guy, and he’s the first man I’ve ever trusted enough to let go to like that. First vampire I was ever with, too.”

  “I am sorry, my dear. I suspected there was more to your tale, but I wished to respect your privacy.”

  Next thing I know, I’m crying the whole damn story out to him, and he’s passing me paper towels.

  “You know what’s so stupid?” I blow my nose. “He said I was his, and that when he woke up we were going to have a conversation about our future.” I dab at my eyes. “I finally, finally let my guard down, and then bam, I see the phantom dog. I mean, how ironic is that, right? I find the perfect guy for me, and I have to leave.”

  “You didn’t have to leave. I’m sure he would have helped you with it.”

  “I don’t even know what it is! Tucson isn’t Homer. If I’d stayed there and that thing stayed there, too, it wouldn’t be long before someone noticed it. That’s not something containable. That would draw a lot of the bad kind of attention to vampires and shifters, and I’m not going to be that reason.”

  He sadly sighs. “I promise I will not interfere, but I would bet your Dexter is likely very upset over your departure. Are you ever going to contact him and at least let him know you’re safe?”

  I sniffle. “I don’t know. I need to figure out a way to do it where he can’t trace me.”

  “Please take this advice in the way it is intended, but it is intensely painful to know someone you love needs help, you can offer that help, but are not allowed to due to circumstances. Please, consider contacting him, hmm?”

  “Don’t you fricking dare, boss.”

  “What about your friend, Neimus? Could he not pass word for you?”

  “And have Dexter hound him? Yeah, no.” I’ve been playing with the ring while we talk. “Maybe if I could finally figure this part out, see if the ring really is connected, that’d be different. But I don’t have any answers.”

  “May I see your ring?”

  “Yeah, just don’t put it on. I’m convinced there’s a connection between it being worn and the thing appearing. Dexter was the last to put it on. That’s the other reason I don’t want him here, because I don’t want the thing focused on him, if that’s the case.”

  He nods.

  I hand it over and he studies it, finally shaking his head as he returns it. “I am sorry, but it doesn’t look familiar to me. Although I spent relatively little time in that region throughout the years. Most of that time was in the last couple of centuries.”

  “Thanks anyway.” I tuck it back under my shirt.

  “Listen. Tonight, I’ll grill us some steaks on the deck. We’ll drink, and toast our missing loves, and stare at the stars, and share stories.”

  “You’re a big softy.”

  “Yes, well, you never met me in my youth. You would not say that about me if you had. Frankly, I prefer myself this way. I feel it suits me better.” He sadly smiles. “I thought I would miss the thrill of the hunt and kill. In my youth, I never imagined a sedate, peaceful life such as this would appeal to me so much. Somewhere along the way, Corbin snuck into my shattered heart and gently started putting the pieces back together before I even realized it.” He cocks his head at me. “Well? What about dinner?”

  “As long as you make me those crispy potatoes with the truffle oil.” I smile. “I love those.”

  He happily rubs his hands together. “Perfetto!”

  Who’d a thunk a vampire’s love language was cooking? It reminds me so much of someone, but I can’t quite grab the memory. It feels like it’s painful, so I dodge it and focus on what I’m doing.

  I’m washing dishes for him a few minutes later while he’s still working on whatever this latest dish is when the gate intercom down at the road chimes.

  We both look at each other, because normally packages come to the other entrance, where the main barn and office for the cattle ranch are located. But a few times a week, tourists who ge
t lost looking for the famous homestead will end up at the house gate.

  I walk over to the wall and hit the intercom button. “Hello?”

  It’s a man. “Hi, I’m trying to find the Olsson Homestead?”

  I simultaneously relax and feel something ping at the outer reaches of my mind, like maybe it’s a familiar voice. Before I can reply, however, Chaldis has blurred over and mashed the button.

  “You are still a mile from their driveway,” he says. “Continue northeast approximately one mile. On your right, you will see two reflective orange triangles by their gate.”

  “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He turns off the intercom and stares at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You. Why did you react like that? Your pulse shot up.”

  “I…I don’t know. It just…”

  “Yes?”

  I blow out a breath. “It’s stupid. His voice sounded a little familiar.”

  He smirks. “Well, we know it cannot be your Dexter, because it’s still sunny out.”

  I laugh. “I know. It wasn’t him, definitely. It probably reminds me of someone I heard at the nightclub once.”

  “Are you certain? I can call the ranch hands to go investigate. Tell them we’re worried about an intruder.”

  “No. I’m fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. We were overdue a lost tourist, anyway.”

  “That is something else we will do tonight.” He guides me back to the kitchen. “You are overdue for another target practice session.”

  Yeah, the vampire wants me able to shoot. Apparently, because the risk here is more four-legged predators, not two-legged ones. “As long as I get crispy truffle potatoes out of the deal.”

  He smiles. “Deal.”

  But now that my mind’s thought about the club again, Dexter’s there, too, front and center.

  Chaldis is probably right. Dexter’s probably missing me, worried about me, and that fills me with guilt.

  I need to contact him, somehow. Maybe I can send a letter to Corbin while he’s gone and he can mail it for me, to hide my location.

  But what do I even say to Dexter at this point? Sorry I broke your heart? Sorry I ran? Sorry I’m a chickenshit who doesn’t know how to stand and fight for myself when it comes to this?

  Sorry that we had a taste of perfection and I ran?

  I didn’t exactly burn that bridge, but I damn sure didn’t adult very well.

  Dexter can find someone better than me.

  Unfortunately, I suspect I’ll never find someone as good as Dexter.

  30

  Eilidh

  “Dude. How did you use up all the fricking salt?” I ask Chaldis as I emerge from the root cellar about an hour later. “I just bought ten pounds two weeks ago.” I realized we were almost out when I went to prep the steaks and let them sit out with salt on them, just to realize—

  “For the salt-encrusted salmon I prepared last week. You said yourself it was divine.”

  Word. That salmon was heavenly. Melted in my mouth like butter. “How’d it not end up on the shopping list, hmm?” I arch an eyebrow at him the way I saw Corbin do.

  He looks playfully abashed. “Perhaps…because I forgot to write it there?”

  I roll my eyes at him. “That means a trip into town. I’ll check your PO Box while I’m there.”

  “I’m sorry, Eilidh.” Yes, I told the guys my real name. Neimus said I can trust Chaldis and Corbin not to tell anyone. I’m “Hayley” to everyone in town and at the ranch.

  Close enough.

  I’m tired of running. I’m heartsick and missing Dexter. I miss Garrett and Amber and Selene and even Lucius and his men.

  I miss the club’s slutty household humans, and I miss the horny Fight Club shifters who always tried to get me to go out with them when I had to run errands for someone and met there to discuss the deets.

  I miss Tucson.

  I miss the desert.

  I miss my life.

  And yet, this comfortable, safe landing pad, this welcomed retreat, hasn’t been all bad. I hate Alaska the idea, and the reason why I’m here, not Chaldis, or his home, or our long talks, or the quiet introspection I’ve had here, or even the land itself.

  I do, however, hate the mosquitoes the size of fricking fruit bats this place has.

  I’m about to leave—I always drive his Land Rover, because my Toyota is safely parked inside the enclosed attached garage to keep it hidden—when the house phone rings.

  I answer. “Bianchi residence.”

  The caller sniffles. “Hey, Eilidh. Is Master awake?”

  My heart sinks at Corbin’s quiet, tearful tone. I know exactly what it signals, especially since he slipped and called Chaldis that. Usually, he asks for him by first name. “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. Hold on.” If I didn’t know their dynamic already, that would’ve clenched it.

  But when I turn, Chaldis is already standing there, reaching for the phone, a blank expression on his face.

  I step out to the deck to give them privacy, even though I can still hear nearly every word both of them say. Curse my super hearing and the lack of city noises to cover their conversation.

  If I hadn’t been certain about their love before, I am now, from the tender words Chaldis uses to try to console his broken-hearted lover. Corbin can barely speak and spends most of the call crying.

  Once they end their conversation, I return inside to find Chaldis standing there, hands in his pockets and staring at the phone.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He nods, finally running a hand through his brown hair. It’s a little shaggier than he usually wears it, because Corbin always cuts it for him. I offered to try, but he wanted to wait.

  I guess that was another clue—there are things Corbin does for him that Chaldis gently refuses my offers to do. It’s their things.

  I can’t blame him.

  This is why I can never agree with Garrett when he calls them leeches. Sure, some of them…well, suck, but then there are vampires like Neimus, Dex, and Chaldis, and even Lucius at his good times. And Selene. They’re not all murdering assholes without consciences. This is exactly one of the reasons why Lucius has instituted among his sired a ban on siring without his permission.

  I should head to the store, but I wait, sensing Chaldis needs to talk.

  Finally, he tips his head back, staring at the ceiling, and I spot the tears he’s trying to blink away. “I hate this,” he whispers. “I hate that I cannot be there for him when he needs me so much right now.” He sighs. “This is why I know your Dexter must be missing you.”

  I ignore his last comment. “We can overnight you via charter or overnight freight cargo. We can use the crate from the RV. I can fly out with you and have a cargo van ready, prep a hotel room, all of that. It’s a little spendy, but I’ve arranged flights like that before, and I’d fly with you because it’s accompanied cargo. Probably an uncomfortable jump seat, but still, it’s doable.”

  He shakes his head. “I haven’t traveled like that in years. There is too much risk to consider. Besides, if I am traveling there like that, he will be worried about me instead of focusing on his family. I have kept him away from them already for too long.” He sadly smiles and finally looks at me. “But thank you, dear. You are very sweet to offer.”

  “When is the funeral?” I mean, I know, but I’m trying to be polite.

  “In three days. Wednesday evening.” He smiles. “As if you didn’t hear.”

  “Well, you know…” I don’t know where to go with that.

  “I don’t know when he will return. I will try to get him to spend time there, with his family.” There is Georgia, where Corbin’s originally from. “The other reason it’s probably best not to go is that his family…does not know.” He sighs. “About…us.”

  “That he’s gay?”

  He nods. “I do not wish to drive a deeper wedge between them and him than already exists. Corbin suspects if he came out to them t
hat they would ostracize him. He left there right after high school and made his way out here, where we met. They think he is a wilderness guide. We send them money and pay his parents’ property taxes every year. We sent them money to help with medical expenses. We are, in fact, paying for the whole funeral. His brother wished to be cremated, so no graveside service.” He plays with the ornate gold band on his right ring finger.

  Now that I’m thinking about it, I realize Corbin wears a ring on his right ring finger, too. I remember seeing it when we met.

  Ahhh.

  #Imadumbass

  All the clues have been there the whole time.

  “But if you go, you can charm people to think you’re nothing more than friends. Or—now, hear me out—you could charm them to accept that he’s gay, and then you two could openly be together.”

  He seems to consider it, then resignation washes in again. “Yes, but it will still stress him out.” I walk over and offer him a hug, which he accepts. “Thank you for all your help, Eilidh. I meant it when I offered you a permanent position here. Please, consider it. I know winters are harsh, but we will make sure you want for nothing. It is good for him to have another human here to speak with, whom he doesn’t have to hide anything from. And you are very pleasant company.”

  I know he means that in a friendly way, not a romantic one. “I’m thinking about it, boss. Let’s table that, for now.”

  “He wants me to turn him, but I’d rather wait. His aging has slowed somewhat, but if I turn him, it will make him visiting his family impossible. I’m hoping to wait until at least his parents have passed. By then, he will look a little older, close to my appearance. I would welcome you as our human helper, should you wish to stay on.”

  “I can’t make you any promises, boss. I told you that.”

  Look what happened the last time I got my hopes up.

  “I know. I just want the offer to be extended.”

  We end the hug and I grab the shopping list. “Anything else we need?” I ask.

  He starts to say something when the gate intercom goes off again.

  I’m closer and answer it. “Hello?”

  It’s a different man, and I don’t recognize his voice. “Sorry, but is this the Olsson Homestead? I think I’m lost.”