Stiltz

by C. M. Stunich

  The biggest threat to vampires is...other vampires.

  I hear the set of double footsteps behind me before my pursuers realize I do. Shit, they probably think they’re moving on silent wings. Vampires always underestimate dhamps, for fuck’s sake.

  In the blink of an eye, I take off across the road and run up the side of a building, grabbing onto the roof with my fingers and throwing my body over. I roll for a split-second, but manage to get myself up in a flash, sprinting over to the edge of the roof and vaulting onto the next. I manage to stay ahead for about three buildings’ worth before a body tackles mine and sends us both crashing across the graveled surface and into a brick chimney.

  “Whoa, cool it, Cam,” Sorrow whispers, straddling me and pinning my arms above my head. “How did you know we were following you?”

  I smirk up at him, at the slight roundness of his face, just enough to trick an onlooker into thinking he’s harmless. But then those full, luscious lips curve back over shiny white fangs and the whole illusion is shattered to pieces.

  “That’s for me to know and you to never find out,” I quip, using a technique I learned over the years. It’s a special secret called...kick ‘em right in the nuts. Slamming my knee up and into Sorrow’s crotch, I make him groan, but for once, it actually doesn’t get a guy to let me go. Instead, he pushes me down even harder against the roof’s surface, grinding my skin into the gravel. He settles his hips down, too, until our pelvises are pressed together and I have no way to kick him again. “What do you want anyway?” I ask as he curses under his breath and scowls at me.

  “We came to take you up on your offer,” Vyce says, surprising me. I’d known he was following me, but I hadn’t heard him join Sorrow and me on this particular roof. Turning my head slightly, I spot him sitting on the small retaining wall with one knee propped up, arms wrapped around it as he watches us with a curious expression. “For sex and blood.”

  “Is that so?” I ask as Sorrow releases me and backs up, his tight white tee stretched over pale skin, his red leather motorcycle jacket hanging over his broad shoulders. I sit up and rub at the back of my head. It already hurts like hell, so getting tackled into a hard gravel roof wasn’t exactly helpful. “Changed your minds, huh?”

  “Well, you managed to piss Wolfe off so badly that he stormed off.” Vyce shrugs. “Sorrow and I now have the rest of the morning free.” He hooks a sharp smile at me, sunlight catching on the myriad blues, greens, and purples in his hair.

  “Both of you, huh?” I ask as Sorrow holds out his pale hand, and I take it, admiring the red and black striped paint on his nails. He’s got this...shall I say Final Fantasy VII look to him that I quite like. Reminds me of my childhood. Video games gave me an escape into another world, a gateway to something better than the constant fear and horror of the life we led.

  And all because of a grandfather I’d never met and an asshole vampire named Rumpel Stiltz. Yet, here I was, about to sleep with at least one Stiltz kin. There’re dozens of them, all taken from bogus bargains that stole away firstborn children. None of them are actually related, just raised by Rumpel and trained in magic, politics...and certain other skills. And by skills, I mean murdering people. They’re all trained assassins.

  “Are you a Stiltz brother, too?” I ask and Sorrow raises two pale brows at me before glancing over at Vyce.

  “I gave her my card,” he says with a loose shrug of his shoulders, eyes gleaming. “She looked like she might need it.” I frown at that because I can’t decide if he’s insinuating I’d come to him for sex in the future...or if he’s actually implying I might be a potential client. Huh. “And yes, this is my...‘brother’, Sorrow.” Vyce makes little quotes with his fingers and then smirks, before rising to his feet like a shadow stretched out by the sun.

  Hmm.

  Two of Rumpel Stiltz’ kin?

  If Mom were still alive, she would totally kill me. She’d tell me to stay as far away from these men as possible. But one quick tumble in bed shouldn’t hurt, right? I mean, Vyce drank my blood and he clearly has no idea that I’m quite literally the one that got away, the one Stiltz bargain never paid in full.

  “You want to take us home?” Sorrow asks, wiggling his brows at me and then flashing another dangerous grin.

  I have to think for a second, and the boys exchange a look. It’s clear they’re not often—if ever—turned down.

  “I live in a shitty apartment above a Chinese food restaurant,” I say, gesturing with my chin in the direction of Dog Town. “It perpetually smells like fried rice and sweet and sour chicken.” I pause and frown. “Which honestly, could be sweet and sour Chihuahua for all I know. The owner is always out in the back alley trying to catch stray dogs.”

  “Sounds appealing,” Sorrow says, tossing an arm over my shoulders, the scent of vampire wafting over me and making me shudder. Shit, I think I’m addicted to it. It reminds me of all the things I’m not and...maybe secretly wish I could be?

  Ugh, Mom would be fucking disappointed in me.

  If she hadn’t been executed in cold blood, maybe I’d get to find out.

  “Follow me, boys,” I say, refusing to admit that bringing back two Stiltz boys to my apartment is a bad idea. If I get caught, if Rumpel gets a hold of me...I’ll be his forever.

  2

  There’s some sort of birthday party happening in Dog Town, a tacky Chinese New Year themed event that in no way actually falls on or around the Chinese New Year. There’s a lot of screaming and shouting that follows us upstairs and into the old door that sticks. It seriously requires some of my dhampir strength to open it, it’s that stuck. Well, to open it and not simply just bust it off its hinges. That requires finesse,

  “Welcome to Chateau Dog Town,” I say with a sweep of my hand, indicating the single bed in the corner, piled with ostentatiously decorative pillows. Some are beaded, some covered in glitter, others lined with tassels. I feel like it makes my cheap, shitty apartment less sad.

  “Wow, this really is a dump,” Sorrow says, shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it on the old bistro table I grabbed from the dumpster of the cafe down the street. One leg was broken, so they tossed it out. I rescued it, fixed the leg, and painted the damn thing red.

  “Thanks.” I grab Ethel from the side table and make a point of checking to make sure she’s loaded. Ricky leans against the wall next to my bed, in easy reach in case I need to behead a late night—or should I say midday since I sleep during daylight?—intruder. It’s happened once or twice. Wait, maybe three times. No, no, four. I’d dropped the weapons off at home before heading to the bar, but I’d been too damn lazy to shower. I probably should’ve just taken them with me, but then, if I hear snide comments in the bar, I get tempted to use them. Nah, just better I remain weaponless while drinking. “Just remember, I have rowan ash in here and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “Duly noted,” Sorrow says, walking around the tiny space and frowning at the flashing neon sign for Dog Town that sits right below my window. Did I mention that shithole’s open twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year? He reaches out and grabs the heavy blackout curtains, yanking them closed before moving into the messy kitchen and doing the same to the window above the sink.

  The look he casts the myriad empty Dog Town takeout containers on my counter says a lot.

  “You actually eat at that place?” he asks, picking one up and giving it a sniff before moving over to my trash can and dropping it in. “Jesus, I’ve got crown blood and even I can’t identify that smell. What is wrong with you?”

  “I have to work my ass off for House Verenim scraps!” I snap, throwing out my hand and gesturing at the dishabille around me. “Hello, useless half-breed over here.”

  “Dhampirs can’t clean?” Sorrow asks, snatching up several more containers and chucking them. As he moves, I can see a bit of tattoo peeking up at the edge of his neckline. I blink, and it moves, startling me. What the fuck is that?! “Clearly, you h
ave supplies.” He gestures to the open cupboard beneath the sink, paper towels and bottles of cleaner tumbling out in a messy pile.

  Okay, I’m a shitty housekeeper. So sue me.

  “This is the weirdest one-night stand I’ve ever had in my life, by the way,” I continue as Vyce slides his trench coat off and moves over to sit on the edge of my bed, staring up at a suspicious water spot on my ceiling. I imagine they’re used to much fancier digs than this. Would I have liked that? To be indoctrinated into Rumpel Stiltz’ assassins’ guild? Kept in a gilded cage?

  Not so much.

  I’ll take the smelly Chinese food place and the weird water stains any day.

  “Yeah, well, I can’t get it up with the stench of rotten dog meat lingering in the air.”

  “First off,” I tell Sorrow, marching over to stand next to him. “You’re a vampire so you can control the flow of your own blood, therefore you can get it up whenever you want. Second, I only order vegetarian food from Dog Town because I don’t fancy the idea of eating poodles or German shepherds or whatever the hell else is in their kung pao. And third, you’re an asshole.”

  He smirks at me, making quick work of the mess of the kitchen and then yanking the bag out of the silver trash can before tying it up.

  “Vyce, take this out, will you?”

  “No,” Vyce says, lounging with a bemused expression on his handsome face. “No, thank you, I suppose I should say. You do it.” Sorrow narrows ice-blue eyes on him and then scowls, picking the bag up and then moving over to the curtains. He slips between them, opens the window, and jumps out.

  Not a big deal for a vamp to jump down from the second story. That’s like a human hopping down a single step. Piece of cake. He chucks the bag in the Dog Town dumpster which I just know is going to send Mrs. Johnson (sorry, no, the owners of the Chinese food place are not actually Chinese but white retirees from Michigan) into a violent fit when she finds out.

  Whatever.

  I just want to get laid.

  “Is this happening, or do you guys want to sweep the dust bunnies out from under my bed?” I ask when Sorrow climbs back in the window and moves to the counter, spraying it with cleaner and wiping it with paper towels. I bought the organic, chemical free cleaners because even a dhampir’s nose is too sensitive for the pungent shit.

  “There are dust bunnies?” Sorrow asks, turning to look over his shoulder at me, that chunky red piece in the front of his hair falling over his eyes. “I’ll have to get those, too, then.”

  “I’ve never had a guy I picked up at a bar clean my apartment before,” I say, flopping onto the edge of my bed next to Vyce. We’re close enough that his heat seeps into my skin and makes me shiver with delight. That sour candy and blood smell wafts around me, drawing my eyes over to his form, slouched and dressed in leather. He’s ridiculously handsome, probably with royal or even crown blood in his lineage. I bet his parents were devastated to lose such a powerful heir. I’d say they were heartbroken at losing their newborn child, but vampires—especially high-ranking nobles—are usually heartless assholes anyway.

  “Honestly, I could get used to this.” I lay back and then suddenly, Vyce is just there, leaning over me with preternatural speed.

  “Especially if one man cleans and another...” He trails his fingertips through the air above me, teasing me with sparks of magic. Hell, he’s not even touching me, and I can feel pleasure radiating through my entire body, penetrating my blood and bones. He’s not even inside of me and yet...he’s inside of me. Good God. “Takes care of other needs.”

  “Wow, you sure know how to get a girl riled up,” I quip, but it doesn’t come out as snarky as I intended. Instead, Vyce’s hand finally comes to rest on my neck, on the side opposite my bandage.

  “Mm, if the rapid gallop of your heart and...” Vyce leans down and licks the side of my throat, just above the bandage, making me moan and curl my fingers into the blankets. “And the violent thundering of your pulse hadn’t already told me that, it’d be good to know.” He taps a finger against my bite and my hips thrust involuntarily. Pleasure curls through me and there’s a tightening between my thighs that almost hurts. “May I?”

  “Go for it,” I breathe as he peels the bandage off and tosses it aside. Pretty sure I hear Sorrow cursing Vyce out, but I ignore him, closing my eyes against the almost overwhelming wash of pleasure from the bite.

  “I think I’ll heal this first...and then bite you again.” There’s a note of jealousy in his voice that excites me. We’ve just met, but he’s into me sexually and getting that little hint of male possessiveness. I find it cute, just so long as they get the fuck out when we’re done.

  “Yeah, this guy, he was a little rough,” I joke, and Vyce stiffens up as I grin.

  “This was a woman,” he says, and I roll my eyes. Damn vampires and their crazy good sense of smell.

  “Yeah, that’s what I meant. She got a little rough. I’m bisexual, does that bother you?” I wiggle my brows at Vyce and his mouth twitches a little.

  “This isn’t from sex at all, is it?” he asks, and I shrug. Nothing wrong with being a little coy, right? “You’re an intriguing woman, Cam,” he says, licking the shell of my ear and making me shiver. Vyce nibbles on my earlobe before working his way down to the bite. Swear to God, my entire body lights up like a sunrise, all my nerve endings bright and tingling with need.

  Sorrow appears on my left side, yanking his shirt over his head and revealing a tattooed...dog of some sort? It’s long and lean, like a hyena/wolf hybrid if such a thing existed. Its tail is short and fluffed, and it has a ridge of thick hair from the top of its head all the way down its back. As I watch, it moves again, sliding across Sorrow’s skin and making me jump.

  Vyce chooses that exact moment to flick his tongue against my wound, blinding me with the pheromones from the bite. He can’t take them out of my blood—they’ll last another eight hours or so—but he can use his saliva to heal the wound completely.

  Just before he makes a new one, of course.

  “His...” I start, trying to call out Sorrow’s weird tattoo, but it’s too late. The wound on my neck heals...and Vyce sinks his teeth into me, sucking my blood out through the new wounds and pumping pheromones into me at ten times, twenty times, the level that the PINK tracksuit vamp did. She was trying to stun me and kill me. Vyce Stiltz is trying to fuck me.

  My throat tightens, and I curl my tattooed right arm around the back of Vyce’s neck, tangling my fingers in his hair and yanking him against me with a groan. I’ve seen a lot of weird supernatural shit in my life, so what’s one more thing? Sure, I’ve never seen a moving tattoo before, but what the hell ever.

  Hot fingertips curl under the waistband of my skintight leather pants.

  “Mind if I take these off?” Sorrow whispers, his voice as cold as his hands are warm. I can’t reply with words. I can’t even remember how to speak English at this point, so instead, I buck my hips up toward him and let him start to slide them down my thighs. When he gets to my boots, he pauses and removes those first, before taking the pants the rest of the way off. “No panties, huh? You really are a naughty little dhampir, aren’t you?”

  I want to tell him that nobody in their right mind wears panties with leather that tight because, you know, panty lines, but I’m more or less paralyzed by Vyce’s bite. The pleasure amps up when he slides his right hand down from my neck to my breast, squeezing the tender flesh through the burgundy fabric of my tiny half-shirt. He kneads the tender mound until the nipple is peaked and aching before he drags the tube top down and exposes my bare breast to the cool air of the apartment.

  Meanwhile, Sorrow is kneeling on the old wood floors and pushing my thighs apart, teasing his fingertips along the tender white flesh and skimming lightly over the wet, pulsing ache of my core.

  “Your blood definitely smells like crown,” he breathes against my opening, breath feathering against the neatly manicured blonde curls. Sorrow presses his face against my thigh
and smirks, his lips sliding against my skin. I might not be able to see his expression, but I can feel it. With a sharp exhale of breath, Sorrow opens his mouth and flicks his tongue against my femoral artery, tasting me. He’s slow and casual about it, like he’s in no hurry to sample my blood.

  Total bullshit.

  I know because I’m desperate to sample theirs. My mouth is watering, and I feel parched all of a sudden, both starving and dehydrated at the same time. I need it. But I’m trapped between the two vampires, their tongues slicking lazily across my flesh. Sorrow takes his sweet time before biting me, sinking his teeth in with agonizing slowness. As soon as he starts to suck, I lose it.

  A climax takes over me, originating at both bites and swirling together in my lower belly before completely and utterly taking over my core. Sorrow slips two fingers in at just the right moment, and I clamp down on him, sucking in a gasping breath and finding—after the shakes die down a bit—that I’ve finally got control of my limbs back.

  “Switch me,” I plead, yanking Vyce’s hair. He lets go of my neck and flashes a wicked smirk that curls my toes against the wood floor. Leaning down, he turns his head to the side and bares the white skin of his neck, his pulse dancing with excitement. The pull of his blood is impossible to resist. I feel like I can already taste it on my tongue, scalding and warm, sweet and metallic at the same time.

  Keeping my grip on Vyce’s hair, I drag him down to my mouth and bite hard enough to make him grunt. His hand tightens on my breast as my teeth sink deep and hot liquid fills my mouth. Oh, fuck yes. He tastes as good as he smells, like sour fucking candy. Vampire blood slides down my throat and my body reacts instantly, healing the wounds on my head and knees.