Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More

by Mandy M. Roth

  Judith’s heartbeat was drumming as if she were already running for her life. Was there a way to get out of this? She needed to go back to her hotel room and figure out what to do about the show.

  “Do you know the symbol?” Calvin asked Andrea.

  Andrea shrugged. “Elizabeth said it was magic. Is it?”

  “Its use is limited.”

  Sounded like a dodgy answer to Judith.

  “Did you see her prepare the letter?” he asked.

  “No. She left the room and came back with it. Look, I really don’t know what crap she pulled, but the good news is it seems like we finally have a real witch on our show. And that’s great for everyone. Some authenticity for once. So she was a little overzealous? She’s just excited to be part of the team.” Andrea squeezed her hands into fists for emphasis. “We can get to the meat of what being a witch is all about.”

  “Judith is a real witch,” Serena said.

  “A witch who actually knows how to do spells,” Andrea said.

  “Ms. Watkins’s methods are unacceptable on many levels,” Calvin said to Andrea.

  “I’m just trying to do my best for the show,” Andrea told him, her eyes glittering, “and my best is damn good.”

  “You had a lapse in judgment,” Calvin said.

  Andrea flushed. “What lapse? I was supposed to find a real witch, and I found one. How could I know she’d try something like this?”

  “Exactly my point.” Calvin’s voice was still smooth, but underneath, Judith sensed danger. “You couldn’t possibly know what she is and what she’s capable of. But know this: if you warn her we’re coming tonight, I’ll come back for you.”

  “Jesus,” Andrea said, backing a step. “You’re all freaks.”

  “You have no idea,” Calvin said.

  Andrea turned and strode away, glancing back once over her shoulder before disappearing onto the set.

  “You’re right about Andrea screwing up,” Judith said to him, “but she’s also a part of what makes the show work.” And he was a fan, right? His Bloodkin patroness, too?

  The vampire’s stony expression relaxed. “Yes. Of course.”

  Okay, then…

  This whole thing was so surreal. It needed to be over. Enough excitement.

  “I’m…uh…feeling a little faint,” Judith said, which was totally true, and for multiple reasons. “Why do I need to accompany you tonight?”

  “We’ll take her back to the hotel,” Serena said. “Tuck her in bed.”

  Judith thought that was a great idea.

  “Your cut has healed,” Calvin told her, “but the magic is still in effect. The spell needs to be broken.”

  Crap. She’d had a back-of-her-neck tingle that this wasn’t over yet.

  She smiled, trying to be as friendly as she could. “And you can’t just…undo it?”

  “Ms. Watkins can. And will,” he said. “You should stay with me until that time. Just in case.”

  Her stomach went queasy. “In case I get another paper cut…”

  He gave a single, elegant nod. “For example.”

  She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking and turned to Meg and Serena. “I get to meet a real witch.”

  “You’ve been looking for one,” Meg said, her tone cautious.

  She had been looking. All her life, she’d been looking for someone to explain what she was, what she could do, and why she could do it. She’d wanted a mentor, but she’d envisioned the whole thing playing out very differently.

  “One found me. Yay?”

  That bad feeling told her it was nothing to celebrate.

  Judith looked from Meg to Serena, who was studying Calvin warily.

  “You’ll get her through this?” Serena asked him.

  “Absolutely,” he said. “And what’s more, I can promise that Elizabeth Watkins will never threaten her again.”

  See…that didn’t bode well. Not well at all.

  “Blood, Ms. Kress,” Calvin began when they were in the car and buckling up. Every once in a while, he’d chauffeur Lady Fane somewhere, but it was so much nicer having someone in the seat next to him, not in the back.

  “I don’t have a whole lot left,” Judith said.

  He laughed. Really, she was as wonderful as she seemed on television. He had a tight, hot feeling inside his chest at being in her company, helping her. And though they’d just met, she felt as familiar in real life as she seemed on the television screen. No artifice, just herself. It put him at ease, when he was almost always on edge.

  “I’m not thirsty,” he told her as he turned out of the parking lot. Lightning snapped in the thick clouds hovering low in the sky. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  Blood magic meant that the witch who cast the spell would always be able to find her. If they were in the same coven, they’d be able to send each other support, strength, or even work in tandem through the connection. But as adversaries, the other witch could torment, and ultimately, kill her victim.

  “Thank you again.” The careful way she spoke betrayed her anxiety. “I still don’t understand why you’re helping me.”

  Help had been sent at the whim of a Bloodkin, but he chose a more personal answer. “I was inspired by the way you saved that child. We need more good in the world.”

  “I don’t know what to do now,” she said. “I’m feeling pretty inadequate.”

  He turned onto Mass Ave. Beacon Street was a couple of blocks over. Thunder growled as the clouds lit silver, purple, and blue with electricity.

  Perhaps blood had been the wrong way to begin his explanation. He tried again. “Magic is your birthright. You merely lack craft, which you can learn. I know how intelligent you are. There’s no reason you shouldn’t achieve mastery.”

  “If I survive that long.”

  “You will. I’ve been sent to ensure it. Do you doubt me?”

  He glanced over in time to see her make a considering frown. “You fixed me up, got the answers I couldn’t, and managed not to throttle Andrea. And you have pointy teeth. Yes, I think you can handle a witch. But I meant, after this is over… The next scary fan letter.”

  She clearly had no faith in herself, but then, the witch’s letter and his appearance were a lot to cope with for someone who knew as much about the Bloodkin world as a human might—fairy tales in old storybooks and scary news reports or rumors in these modern times.

  “Are you aware,” he said, knowing she wasn’t, “that in the great scheme of things, you are more powerful than I am?”

  She gave a disbelieving pfft.

  “It’s true,” he said. “Blood is magic, and as a vampire, I have no blood of my own. I am dry inside, beneath even humans. But you…you have innate power.”

  “Well, a king might have innate power, but a king can be a fool, too,” she said. “For example, you are not a fool. It’s the person that matters.”

  The subtext was that she was foolish, and that he was more than he claimed to be. Both were untrue. She needed information desperately and not just simple warnings or votes of confidence. That wasn’t enough. Not if she were being targeted. She needed to truly understand.

  It just so happened that over the many decades of his existence, he happened to have acquired such information. Witches were just as secretive as Bloodkin, but yes, he knew some things.

  He glanced over at Judith. He’d watched the beginnings of her pursuit of magic; he would relish seeing her come into her power.

  So what if he was a vampire? Why shouldn’t he help her along?

  He thought for a moment. What were the basics any child with noble blood would know? “Who among Earth’s races has dominion over all things?”

  “Dominion is putting it grandly,” she said as her face went white in the blaze of a lightning strike, “but I’m guessing you mean the Bloodkin.”

  “Dragons, yes. And nothing is too grand for them,” he told her. “But there are many noble races beneath the Bloodkin, among them other shif
ters, witches, and the fae.”

  “Noble.” She seemed to be trying out the word. “Vampires aren’t noble?”

  “No. We serve or we prey.”

  “Like monks?”

  He frowned, confused, and then gave a soft chuckle. “Prey, as in hunt. No God would hear our prayers.”

  “That’s not true,” she said.

  “I’m certain it is. Vampires lack nobility of any kind.” If she knew how badly, how darkly, he wanted to touch her, she’d change her mind.

  “Yet here you are, saving my ass.”

  She was seeing him at his best—well fed, almost human, even. He didn’t have to remember to breathe; he was doing so naturally. And while she could sense what he was, she didn’t seem to sense how…thirsty he was for this time with her after battling restlessness for so long. “I serve so I don’t have to prey.”

  “Service isn’t noble?”

  He sighed. “Judith Kress is arguing semantics with me, and about the nature of vampirism, no less. Never in a million years would I have thought this might come to pass.” Her lack of understanding wasn’t ignorance but innocence. She’d discover the truth eventually, but not, he hoped, tonight.

  Noble. Very well. It would amuse him for a long time.

  “So magic is in the blood?” She’d taken the hint and moved off the subject.

  “Yes, and your noble blood sealed whatever mischief Elizabeth Watkins sent your way.”

  “Bitch.”

  “That’s the spirit.” He’d known Judith would fight back. “How about we go spill some of hers?”

  She looked over at him with wide eyes, horrified.

  “Too much?” he asked.

  She nodded. “No blood spilling.”

  Lightning crashed over the city.

  He focused on the road and said no more. He needed to maintain her cooperation because if she ran or fought him, she would surely die. He didn’t want her to learn violence before knowing the wondrous things she’d be able to do through magic. But some promises he just couldn’t make.

  “Seriously. No blood,” Judith said as she got out of the car, Calvin holding and shutting the door for her.

  “I can promise I won’t act without good reason.”

  “Please, Calvin, I’m scared.” As in, totally freaking out. One minute, he was chatty. The next, silent. What was he planning to do to Elizabeth Watkins?

  They crossed the wide sidewalk. He had a hand on her upper back as if to keep her close, and even with the warning blaring through her body—danger near!—she didn’t mind at all. The way he spoke to her made her finally feel like the witch she knew she’d been born to be. Like she wasn’t crazy or bumbling. Like her magic was worth something.

  “If she’s done something truly bad, we call the police.” Even as she said it, Judith wondered what the police could do with a witch.

  “She would play them like puppets,” Calvin said. “But rest assured, I have been sent by one of great authority to stop her mischief.”

  She moved closer to his side as they descended a short flight of steps to a recessed door in an old, brick building.

  Elizabeth Watkins had the basement level of a brick townhome on Beacon Street, an illuminated TAROT sign in her window. The floors above advertised vintage clothing, and the street-level bay window featured a 1940s-style rose-colored dress that was totally Meg.

  Judith had to be clear about what they were doing here, and whispered so softly she could barely hear herself, “Are you going to kill her?”

  He took a deep breath. “What if it’s a decision between her life and yours?” His voice was low, but naturally so. He didn’t seem worried about hiding from the witch at all.

  “Why does anyone have to die?” Judith whispered back.

  He gazed into her eyes, and Judith, gazing back into his, felt that tug at her heartstrings again. Calvin, who seemed so powerful, also seemed trapped.

  “She bound the curse with your blood,” he said. “If she won’t break the bond, then only your death will release you. Your death, or hers. I happen to agree with my patroness: I choose for you to live, and the one who declared war on you to die.” He rapped on the door. “You didn’t start this.”

  Maybe not, but a cyclone of awfulness brewed in Judith’s belly. The whole thing didn’t make sense: if magic was supposed to be secret, why had Elizabeth Watkins agreed to appear on the show?

  After a few moments, the door opened, and a gorgeous, black-haired woman stood on the threshold. She had those natural cat eyes that always made a face seem otherworldly. And with the woman’s lipstick-red lips, Judith could just imagine the sexy and sparkly promos the show would do.

  The woman’s gaze first locked on Calvin and then slowly slid to the right, where she blinked in surprise and smiled. “Judith Kress? Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s you.” She put a hand to her chest. “I’m Elizabeth Watkins, your new cast member.”

  Elizabeth held out her hand, and Judith just looked at it. No way in hell was she going to shake the hand of the witch who’d just tried to kill her.

  “I got your letter,” Judith said instead.

  Elizabeth pulled back, seeming confused, and glanced at Calvin again. “It was just a way to introduce myself.”

  “Introduce yourself and then some,” Judith said.

  Elizabeth’s gaze stayed on Calvin, but then, whose gaze wouldn’t want to stay on him?

  “Well, we’re witches, after all,” Elizabeth said. “Um…might I ask who your friend is?”

  “Sure. This is Calvin Blake,” Judith told her. “He’s been sent to investigate the magic you used and decide how to handle it.”

  “Investigate? Why?” She flashed a coquettish smile. “Did my little spell go awry?”

  Judith really didn’t like fake people. She turned to Calvin, who she knew would tell her the truth. “Did it go awry?”

  “We shall see,” he said.

  Elizabeth’s eyes took on a wide, worried shape. “It’s my dream to be on Witching Wild. I’ve been the biggest fan since the first episode.”

  Apparently, witches were fans of the show, too. Maybe the whole Bloodkin world was tuning in each week. Maybe she hadn’t been targeted for using magic where humans could see it. Maybe they enjoyed her attempts at casting spells and brewing potions.

  “I’m so sorry if you had to clean up any mess I made,” Elizabeth said.

  “May we come in?” Calvin asked with his smooth reserve.

  “Of course. Please.” Elizabeth stepped aside to let them through the doorway.

  Judith hesitated as Calvin entered first. The room inside was small but cute, with an old, blue velvet, claw-foot sofa and mismatched comfy chairs. A side table held a crystal ball and an assortment of crystals. Along one wall was a series of shelves with a couple hundred Mason jars full of sprigs, and powders, and dirt. There would be an altar somewhere in the apartment, too.

  Elizabeth was exactly the kind of person Judith had been searching for to answer all her questions about being a witch. Except for the whole trying-to-kill-her part.

  “Please, have a seat,” Elizabeth said. “Can I get you some tea?”

  “We won’t be staying that long,” Calvin said.

  That suffocating feeling of danger thinned Judith’s breath, but she just couldn’t condone killing another person. She hoped Elizabeth would cooperate.

  “Calvin, please,” Judith said.

  Elizabeth glanced back and forth between them. Did she know he was a vampire? If Judith could feel it, she had to feel it, too, right?

  He inclined his head toward Judith slightly, acknowledging her request but also seeming to regretfully decline it.

  Elizabeth looked wary. “I am sorry. If I can do any—”

  Calvin pulled the letter from his coat pocket, opened it, and showed her the symbol. “Is this your mark?”

  The S with the triangle and lines going through it.

  Mark. Judith made a note of the word, something to do with witchcr
aft.

  Elizabeth glanced down. “Yes. I sent it to identify myself to the other witches of the cast. It was a gesture of respect.”

  Okay, wait. Respect?

  Elizabeth had to know Serena and Meg weren’t true witches, so she’d sent the letter to identify herself to Judith. Judith, the bumbling witch. And anyone who watched the show would know she was searching for information about witchcraft. No one had taught her anything until Calvin had come along.

  He produced the envelope. “And the magic with which you sealed this?”

  Elizabeth’s pretty eyes rapidly blinked. She opened her hands prettily, too. “It was just a little challenge, a harmless May the best witch win. You know, to spark excitement among the viewers for next season. For some drama. Nothing any witch couldn’t handle.”

  Judith felt utterly incompetent. She couldn’t handle anything.

  “And the intent of the magic was to bind the two of you to this challenge?”

  Judith looked at the symbol, Elizabeth’s mark, and thought of her paper cut and the blood that had been seeping continuously from it. Blood as power. Blood as magic. The two of them bound, yes.

  Elizabeth laughed. “How could I have known she would cut her finger?”

  “Do you mean for me to tell you your craft?” he asked, voice cold.

  Elizabeth’s mouth went into an unhappy straight line.

  “I ask again,” Calvin said, “was it your intention that the envelope draw the blood that bound the two of you together so that the best witch could win?” The last words were clipped, sharp.

  “There wouldn’t be a challenge without the bond,” she said, “so yes, it was my intention.” She crossed her arms and stood up straighter. “I don’t like your tone, so I’m going to ask you to leave. I’ll settle this with Mr. Douglass and my lawyers.”

  Calvin didn’t move. “Do you know the easiest way to break that bond?”

  Judith could guess the answer to that one.

  “This is ridiculous,” Elizabeth said. “You can’t threaten me where I live.”

  Seemed like she knew the answer, too.

  “What kind of people are you?” Elizabeth demanded. “You can take your show and shove it. Now get out, or I’ll throw you out.”