A Secret Baby for the Vampire

by Wylder, Jasmine

  “I wanted to apologize for running out on you the other night.” Foster stepped forward, offering her the rose. Emily didn’t take it. Instead, she crossed her hands over her chest and pouted. “Not a rose person, huh?” He frowned, letting his arm drop. He had read online that human females loved roses.

  “No. I’m an explanation person. Now tell me why you and your brother ran off. Tell me why your skin was burning hot. Why your brother had the eyes of a cat!” She stomped forward, pushing Foster against the wall. Her cheeks were red with anger as she waited for answers.

  “Look… Emily. It’s complicated.”

  “I don’t care. Just tell me.” She pressed.

  Foster ran his fingers through his messy brown hair. “I can’t.”

  “Why the hell not? What kind of secrets are you two keeping from me? If we are supposed to be business partners, then I would at least expect some honesty.” Foster nearly cringed at her use of the word honesty. He knew that his web of lies would be exposed soon, but he wasn’t ready to tell her the truth just yet. For her own safety, he had to keep her in the dark as long as possible. “Do you guys have wives or something? Women you have to run back to every morning before the sun comes up? Is that it?” She accused.

  “No, of course not,” Foster answered immediately. “We aren’t cheating on you.”

  Emily laughed, her hand on her stomach. “Cheating would imply that we’re seeing each other and let me tell you something, buddy. I don’t date liars.” There was venom dripping from her every word as she tapped her finger on his chest to prove her point. “So, either you tell me what’s going on here or I call off the whole deal.”

  “You can’t. The nightclub will go bankrupt if you do.”

  Emily’s momentum halted for a moment. She knew he was right, but she still didn’t want to back down. She stared him right in the eye, her face hard and serious. “I don’t care. Tell me. Or else.”

  Foster was about to say something when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Lloyd was slowly ascending. As he reached the landing, he spotted Emily and Foster standing close to each other. There was but a few inches separating them. He narrowed his eyes and ground his teeth, thinking Foster had beaten him to the beautiful woman. His rage only grew when he noticed the flower in his step-brother’s hand.

  Before he could react, however, Emily stormed over to him. She stared into his eyes, looking for any peculiarities, but they looked completely normal. His pupils were round as they should be. “I don’t get it…” She whispered to herself.

  Lloyd grabbed her hand. “Emily. Just listen to us.”

  She harshly shrugged away his hand. “No. I know what I saw. You two are hiding something from me, but if you don’t want to give me answers, fine! I don’t need you two anyway.” She hissed, pushing Lloyd aside with her shoulder before she stomped down the stairs, making a ruckus.

  “What did you do to her?” Lloyd asked.

  “I didn’t do anything. She wanted to know why we left in a hurry that night. She saw the beginning of our transformation you know… it’s not surprising that she’s asking questions…” Foster sighed. “We can’t let that happen again. If the council finds out she knows about us, that she even suspects that we might be dragons, they’ll come after her.”

  “I’d like to see them try.” Lloyd curled his fingers into fists by his side, his blood boiling.

  “You may be strong, Lloyd, but you cannot take the entire council by yourself. We’ll just have to be more careful from now on.”

  “I don’t know if I can keep doing this… I don’t think I can keep running away from her every time the sun comes up. I want her, Foster. I want her so fucking bad, it hurts.” Lloyd’s eyes wavered with desire and lust. “Eventually, we’re going to have to tell her.” Foster remained quiet, knowing his step-brother was right.

  ***

  Down on the dance floor, the crowd swallowed Emily. The mass of bodies pressed into her on all sides as she pushed through, searching for the center. A few men grabbed at her, touching her body like she was a piece of meat, but when she turned around to reprimand them, they were nowhere to be seen.

  Her fingers shook with anger as she continued to fight her way through, finally reaching the middle. Women all around her were rubbing their bodies against each other as men watched, their eyes full of carnal lust. Emily had been so determined to dance with someone else, to make Foster and Lloyd jealous, but she quickly lost all desire to be with any of these men. Her skin crawled with disgust at their lewd behavior. People were sucking face. Others were so bold as to sneak their hands down pants. The rest were dancing so close together that they were just a step away from having sex right there on the dancefloor.

  Emily stood there, frozen for a moment. She forgot how to move, her body turning into a statue in the sea of dancing bodies. She gulped, feeling incredibly hot. Her cheeks burned and her throat felt like it was closing. She gasped for air, tugging at her turtleneck, immediately regretting her choice of wear. The thick, knitted material clung to her body, making her sweat. She could already feel her perspiration soaking through the fabric and her cheeks burned further with her humiliation. She had to get out of there.

  She felt like she would never escape, but eventually, she reached an open space. She sighed in relief as she leaned forward, her hands on her knees as she regained her breath. Her lungs burned and her eyes watered like she had just run a marathon.

  She could hear the sound of the music mixed in with the clinking of glasses from the bar. Slowly, she stood up and stepped forward. Maybe some alcohol would clear her mind. As she walked, she looked up at the railing, seeing Foster and Lloyd still standing there, overlooking the nightclub, looking at her. Quickly, she looked away, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing that she was still thinking about them.

  With her head held high, she marched to the bar, now oblivious to her surroundings. Suddenly, she bumped into someone before she felt a cool liquid splash all over her chest. She jumped back in reaction, her dress soaked with Dragon’s Ale. “I’m so sorry.” She apologized as she looked up.

  Her words lodged in her throat when she laid eyes on a peculiar-looking individual. His fingers were shaking around his now empty beer stein. His nails were brown and long, sharpened to a deadly point. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were small slits, glittering like those of a cat. Emily quickly stepped back, feeling a sense of dread washing over her.

  “Look what you did.” He said in a hollow voice. “Look what you did!” He shrieked, splashing the rest of the Ale on her face as his own turned red. Veins throbbed on the side of his head as he took a step forward, a deep growl emerging from the base of his throat. “You’re going to regret bumping into me, pretty lady. That was the last Ale I could afford and now, it’s going to cost you…” The man advanced slowly before suddenly pouncing. In a split second, he had gone from calm to completely berserk. He pushed Emily against the bar, her head bouncing off the corner with a shuddering thud.

  She collapsed to the ground, her body crumpling like a rag doll. The whelp was about to smash his glass into the back of her head when Lloyd suddenly appeared, yanking the lesser dragon off his feet. “You’re going to pay for what you just did…” Lloyd’s voice was eerily calm as his fingers dug into the back of the man’s neck, threatening to crush it right there and then. Before he could hear the crack of his vertebra, however, he slammed the whelp into the bar. Just like Emily, his head bounced off the counter. His eyes flashed with malice as he swung out at Lloyd’s leg, determined to bring him down, but the dragon prince didn’t budge. “Nice try.” He grinned before he grabbed the whelp’s ankle and swung him to the other side, his body smashing the floor with such force that the tile cracked.

  Human patrons shrieked in horror at the display of violence. Women hid behind men as they cowered in fear. Yet, most of them watched on with a grotesque fascination as Lloyd continued to beat the whelp, throwing punch after punch into his face unti
l his jaw hung sideways and his left eye was swollen shut. The whelp tried to put up a fight, but he was no match for the elder dragon.

  Finally, as Lloyd paused to catch his breath, he was able to get up and scram out of the nightclub. Lloyd stood there, his stance wide and his posture rigid. “Let that pathetic creature be a warning to you all. If anyone lays a hand on this woman again – better yet, if anyone even thinks of threatening her – then let it be known that I’ll personally make sure they regret it.” His words echoed through the Den. There was a collective nod from those around him. No one dared to question the raging individual.

  Behind him, Foster was gently helping Emily to her feet. There was a small gash on her forehead that was bleeding steadily. The line of crimson ran down the side of her face. She groaned, her head throbbing with pain. With no other option, she clung to Foster for support before he gently picked her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest. “C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.”

  Soon after, Lloyd followed the couple and after a few awkward minutes of silence, the nightclub returned to its normal operation. Beer steins were once again refilled and people were dancing. The crowd quickly dismissed the bloodshot whelp that had threatened the owner of The Den, but Emily would never forget. As she was carried up the stairs, she realized how dependent she was on these two men. As much as she wanted to hate them, she couldn’t. They had saved her life and seemed determined to keep her safe, no matter what. So how was she supposed to stay mad? She might not like their deception, but she would just have to overlook it for her own safety…

  Chapter Seven

  Foster carried Emily into her apartment, gently easing her onto the couch. “Do you have a first aid kit?” He asked, but she remained quiet, her eyes fixated on a spot on the ceiling. Foster sighed and walked away, heading for the bathroom. Seconds later, Lloyd stepped in, sitting down beside her.

  He wrapped his arm around her and was about to rest her head on his shoulder when she jerked away. “What… what are you?” She accused as her voice wavered.

  “What do you mean?” He asked innocently.

  “No man should be able to throw another man over his head while holding them by the ankle… don’t think I didn’t see that.” She turned, facing him with burning eyes. “It’s not humanly possible.” Her words were rushed as she moved closer, their knees touching. “I’m not mad… I just want to know why everyone suddenly has catlike eyes. Just tell me. I won’t run away or tell anyone.”

  Lloyd leaned forward, his face now dangerously close to hers. Their breaths lingered together and Emily felt herself gravitating toward him despite her anger. She stared at his thin, kissable lips, picturing what they would feel like pressed against hers or roaming the rest of her body. She shivered, remembering her fantasy. Why was she thinking of that in a moment like this? She clutched the hem of her dress, feeling a fire burning between her legs which was getting stronger as the seconds ticked by. Their lips got closer and closer.

  Lloyd grinned, his hand on her knee, slowly creeping up her leg. “I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head about it.” He whispered, tilting his head to the side as his lips gently grazed against her neck. “You’ll only get hurt…”

  “I don’t care.” She breathed. “I need to know.”

  Lloyd’s eyes grew heavy as he pulled back and shook his head. He crossed his arms over his chest and reclined into the couch. His lips were pressed into a thin, hard line and it was obvious that he had no intention of continuing the conversation.

  Emily was about to prod him further, when Foster returned, holding a small first aid kit in his hand. “Alright. Let’s get you patched up, shall we?”

  “I’m fine.” Emily pouted as she turned away from Lloyd. “It was nothing.”

  “C’mon now, don’t be stubborn.” Foster reached forward, touching her forehead. Immediately, she winced, pulling away.

  “Ouch!”

  “See. Now let me take care of it before it gets infected.”

  “I can do it myself!”

  Foster clicked his tongue and ignored her pouting as he rummaged through the sparse medical supplies, looking for some disinfectant and a bandage. With a small, wet cloth he had brought along from the bathroom, he started to wipe the blood off her face. “How are you feeling? Did the man do anything else to you?”

  Emily shook her head. “I’m fine. I already told you that, but it seems stubbornness runs in your family.”

  “Technically we aren’t related,” Foster answered in a matter-of-fact tone. He sat on the edge of the coffee table as he carefully wiped off the blood around the wound, trying not to hurt her. Still, she winced. “I’m sorry, did that hurt?”

  “Of course it hurt! Some guy just bashed my head against the bar. I have a headache like you wouldn’t believe…” She groaned, her own voice echoing through her mind. Her stomach curled up and knotted. She felt like she would vomit. Quickly, she rushed off the couch and dashed into the bathroom, heaving into the toilet.

  Her fingers shook around the bowl. Foster was quickly by her side, holding her hair away from her face. “It’s okay… let it out.” He rubbed her back with a soothing, circular motion as he waited for her to calm down. “I know all of this must’ve been traumatic for you, but I want you to know that Lloyd and I will never let anything happen to you ever again…” He squatted down and gently pinned a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

  “Mouthwash.” Emily collapsed onto the cold tile floor. Her skin was clammy and her face had a green hue to it.

  Foster handed her the mouthwash and smiled gently. “Now, are you going to let me take care of you?”

  “At this point, I don’t really have a choice, do I?” She tried to get up, but her body felt like it had turned to lead.

  “So sassy.” Foster chuckled, teasing her lightly, trying to ease the tension.

  “Well, are you going to help me up or not?’ Foster grinned before he picked her up and carried her back to her room, setting her down on the bed. “I’ll be right back with the bandage.” Emily found herself nodding. She watched him leave the room, missing him the second he was out of sight. She scrunched up the sheets between her fingers as a strange sensation wrapped around her heart, squeezing it tight.

  “How is she?” She heard Lloyd asking.

  “She should be fine. The whelp didn’t do much damage. She just has a small cut on her forehead, but I think she’s a bit shaken up by the whole thing. She just threw up in the bathroom, but I don’t think she has a concussion. Though, we might want to persuade her to go to a doctor tomorrow morning.” There was a long pause of silence before Foster reentered the room with a smile. “Here we are.” He said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Emily stared at him, wondering if she should question him about the man who attacked her, but she was much too tired to formulate a question. It was like someone had sucked all the energy out of her and all she wanted to do now was fall into a deep, never-ending sleep.

  Finally submitting, she allowed Foster to place the bandage on her cut. He then pulled up the covers and tucked her in. “Sleep well, okay?” He whispered in her ear before kissing the top of her head in an affectionate manner. As he left the room, he hit the lights and closed the door softly, leaving Emily all alone.

  Outside, Foster ran his fingers through his hair with a heavy sigh. Slowly, he entered the living room, sitting down beside his step-brother. “What are we going to do about all of this?”

  “What do you mean?” Lloyd was playing with a cup of clear liquid in his hand.

  “This. All of this. We have gotten too caught up in Emily’s life and we’ve put her in danger. She’s no longer safe.”

  “Of course she is. She’s here with us, isn’t she?” Lloyd took a sip of his drink and then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

  “No. You know that’s not true. We don’t know what happens here during the day. We have no way to keep her safe while the sun is up and you know it.”


  “There’s no whelps around here during the day. The Den closes at six.”

  “You don’t know that. Emily has to do something when we aren’t around and I don’t like the thought of her being put into jeopardy because of us.” Foster pointed out, his voice tense.

  Lloyd turned, facing his step-brother, his deep-set eyes dark and threatening. “Well, if you just let me mate with her, we wouldn’t be having this problem. We could take her back to our world and live happily ever after.”

  Foster growled possessively. “I won’t let you have her. She doesn’t want to be with you anyway.”

  “Oh, and she wants to be with you, does she?” Lloyd shouted as he got up, his voice rising.

  “Quiet, you fool. You’ll wake her.”

  “I don’t care!” Lloyd bellowed, his eyesight sharpening and his nostrils flaring. “I’m prepared to fight over her. Don’t tempt me.”

  “You’re a disgrace to our kind!” Quickly, Foster disappeared out the door, running toward the stairs. Lloyd rushed after him, but the younger dragon was already weaving through the crowd. In a rage, Lloyd barreled through the dance floor, stepping outside. The cool nighttime breeze blew against his burning cheeks as he looked around, searching for his step-brother. His ears perked up as he heard a loud creak. His eyes turned toward the fire escape, seeing Foster climb up to the roof.

  Without hesitation, he allowed his wings to emerge and shot into the air, landing on the roof with a powerful thud. The concrete shook underneath him as if hit by an earthquake before Lloyd straightened out, staring down his sibling. “Did you really think you could run away?” Lloyd laughed, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “Then again, I don’t know why I’m surprised. You always were a coward. The first to run away.”

  “I wasn’t running away.” Foster’s fists tightened by his side as he felt his blood boiling under his skin. “Now get out of my way.”