“Holy shit,” I mutter. “Boz is a vampire.” And that means Neli is an immortal human. I swallow hard and mutter, “Majordomo is a very nice title.”
“Thank you.” She blows out a breath. “So now that you believe me, I’m sure you’ll have lots of questions?” Her voice turns cheerful and she starts clapping. “And now you can understand how excited I was to realize you’re his mate. All the signs are there! So once you accept your place with him, I’ll be free, and you’ll have everlasting love and happiness.”
“Hold on. You really were serious about dying.” I flash a worried look at her. This is all too much to take in, but two things are certain: I haven’t accepted my “place” with him—there’s a lot to think about, including what that means for my family and for my future. And two, I do not want Neli to die.
She smiles. “Yes. It’s a gift for me, not a sadness.”
My mind flashes to Boz lifting his head, blood oozing out of his mouth, the dead man lying on the floor.
“He didn’t just kill that man; he ate him,” I whisper as it all starts to sink in.
“That man was a vampire hunter and was about to drive a wooden stake through Boz’s heart. It was kill or be killed.”
There was a wooden stake gripped in the man’s hand. Neli takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. In that moment I understand the gravity of the situation. She’s bonded to a vampire who’s claimed me as his mate. And she wants to die.
My breath turns shallow, my vision dimming at the edges.
“You’re looking a little pale,” she says, guiding my head down. “Head between your knees. Can’t have you passing out here.”
I stay that way for a few moments until my breathing evens out. I slowly rise and face her, my eyes intent on hers. “Be honest. Are you a vampire?”
She bares her teeth. “No fangs. And I can eat real food. I told you I’m his majordomo.” Fancy title for a sad state of affairs.
“Wait. Do vampires eat anything besides…” I can’t even say the word. It’s disgusting to think of Boz drinking blood.
“They can’t ingest human food. Wine is just about the only exception.”
Now that she mentions it, I never really saw Boz eat anything, though he did take a bite of steak at dinner last night. Then he spit it out in his napkin. I thought he was diet conscious or didn’t like his food. But not being able to eat? How awful.
“Sorry, Neli. I like eating. I don’t want to be his slave. And, even if I could accept that, what if he bonds with me and then lets me die to bond with another?”
“Excellent question. I’m glad you’re thinking this through. The mate is special. You wouldn’t be his slave, and it’s a forever bond. Boz would never force your hand. He wants you to come to him of your own free will.”
My mind drifts to the odd conversation I had with Boz before I went to his room. He wanted me to have sunshine, scuba, and children of my own, something he thought I couldn’t have with him. At the time I thought it was an excuse, but under the new circumstances, more and more is making sense to me. “And he can’t have children?”
“You can’t if he turns you.”
I gulp. “Into a vampire?”
She hesitates before saying in a rush, “Yes. But the good news is all that everlasting love and happiness! You’d live forever, sealed to each other in an unbreakable bond. It’s better than a human marriage, which can be dissolved so easily nowadays.”
I take a deep breath, my mind finally calm enough to think this through. “So you’re saying I’d become a vampire and live forever with him. What about my family? Can they live forever too?”
“If he turns them, sure.”
I look down. My entire family and me, vampires. How would that work? Would we all have to sleep in coffins? Would Eliza and Mabel still want to bake? Wait. No more eating and enjoying their famous chocolate chip cookies? No. I can’t ask them to follow me into the unknown supernatural world. I’m not even sure I want to be there. “So, reality is, I’d have to watch my family and everyone I know die of old age, while I’m left behind never to have a family of my own. Is that the gist of it?”
“Yes, but—”
I stand. “I’ve heard enough. I’m sorry, Neli, but I can’t take your place. He’ll need to find another mate.”
I hurry back inside, ignoring her frantic pleas. “Wait! Stella! There is no other mate. It’s only you!”
I duck back inside the exhibition hall and then keep going out the door, racing to the ladies’ room. I need a moment to pull it together.
I turn the sink on and splash cold water on my face, my charm bracelet jangling with the movement. I stare at it and then frantically undo the clasp and throw it in the garbage. He put some kind of spell over me with this thing, and I refuse to be drawn in anymore.
I’ll forget Boz, even if it kills me to lose the only man I’ve ever had these kinds of feelings for. That is, until I discovered he’s a vampire. My stomach churns. This is awful. I thought our connection was straight out of a fairy tale. He was even a prince!
Now I know the horrific truth—he’s a prince of the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Boz
“What do you mean ‘Stella left’?” I clench my fists, having just woken from a very restless slumber. Things had gone so poorly with Stella last night that I could not stop replaying the entire scene in my mind. One moment, we were in the throes of ecstasy, the likes of which I have never known with any woman, and the next, I was taking a vampire hunter’s life. The horror on Stella’s face made me see the evil monster I am.
Or was? The truth is, I do not know who I am anymore. Killing people used to be so much fun. But now I find myself wanting to enjoy life in other ways. For example, helping Stella’s family. Knowing I can bring that kind of joy to Stella’s existence has lit a satisfying warmth deep inside me. Is it because she is my mate? Is it because when I am near her, my heart beats anew? I am unsure, but I suddenly have the desire to commit acts of goodness.
I never want Stella to look at me like she did last night. I want to be the sort of bloodthirsty, dangerous, supremely handsome, well-endowed, and highly intelligent vampire who can make her feel loved. I want her to feel safe.
And now she is gone!
Neli stares down at her heels in her elegant black satin woman-suit. The crowd files past us, dressed to the nines for the cocktail reception and awards ceremony.
Once inside the large open modern space, I notice the floor-to-ceiling windows Neli warned me about are blocked by large black panels. The floor is black, and the lights overhead are dimmed. The result is a comfortable ambiance that reminds me of the last rays of sunset. They’ve cleared most of the space for the mingling humans, leaving only a few tables to the edges of the room for the judges’ panel. The ball tomorrow night will be in another venue, which I am no longer looking forward to. My Stella is gone. I was meant to win her over in a romantic dance while I whispered sweetness in her ear.
“I’m sorry, Boz,” Neli says sheepishly, likely noting I am stewing. “I really am. I tried to talk Stella through everything, but she’s in shock.”
“Sorry? Do you think sorry is good enough? You lost my mate,” I growl.
Neli’s head whips up, her green eyes tearing and shooting poison arrows. “Do you think I wanted that? Do you? I’m the one who’ll have to listen to you whine and moan for the next eight hundred years because you decided to kill some idiot vampire hunter right in front of her. But yeah. It’s all my fault.” She whisks away a stray tear and sighs. “I wanted this more than you did.”
I note the pain in Neli’s gaze and realize that her disappointment comes from a place of friendship and loyalty. And also deep-seated, codependent, obsessive tendencies. As is common when one is in the presence of such magnetic masculinity. I’ve been reading up. Psychology Today. I’m currently on issue No. 2, 1971. Very riveting, this concept of feminism. Do women truly find being in charge satisfying? Only five hundred and eigh
ty-four more issues to go.
“I am sorry,” I say. “I should not have blamed you. If I had wanted a successful outcome, I should have done it myself instead of leaving it to a simpleton.”
Neli takes my hand, opens my fingers and wraps them around her throat with both hands.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” She squeezes harder, pushing my fingers into her neck. “Trying to free myself.”
I jerk my hand away. “Stop it. People are looking, and now is not the time for your odd, twenty-first-century parlor games. I am not down with this…this…Sixty Spades whatever thing I read about in Cosmo.” I really should fly more often. I learned so much from all the “bingeing” and “chilling,” internet surfing, and magazines.
“It’s Sixty Shades, Boz. Sixty Shades of Hay. Not spades of hay. Wait. Or is it Socks? Or…Shades of Gray Socks?” Neli groans and scrubs her face with her hands. “Balls. Who can keep up with humans?”
“Irrelevant. I am the only one you must keep up with. Please try. I know it is difficult.”
“Why did I have to go on a rampage in your honor and kill all the witches? I probably could have paid one to free me,” she mumbles.
What was that? “You did that for me?” I ask, feeling quite touched.
“Never mind. It’s all watery broomsticks under the bridge.”
Sometimes, I feel as though Neli is in her own world. “As you wish. So what is the plan? We must have one to win her back.”
“How should I know? After my nightmare of an attempt to get her to come around, I figured you could lay on the old Bozzy magic and charm her tonight. And the ball tomorrow night would’ve sealed the deal with your grace and elegance on the dance floor.” My chest puffs with pride until she continues, “But she flat out skipped town. She told her parents she had food poisoning and that you offered to fly her home to recover. Really, she bought her own flight.”
This is a disaster. “Her family is broke, and Stella cannot afford such an expense.” My mind quickly shuffles to images of Stella having to sell her maidenhead at the local market simply to pay for her passage home. That was my maidenhead. Mine!
“Uh-oh. Your right eye is twitching. That’s your warlord face. What are you going to do, Boz?”
“After I find out the name of the scoundrel who deflowered my bride next to a pile of gourds and tie his legs in a knot?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I shake off my anger. “Never mind. I will allow Stella time to digest. Perhaps the distance will make her long for me.”
“That’s it? That’s your grand gesture to win her heart?” Neli’s mouth falls open.
Not enough? All right. Thinking… I scratch my scruffy chin. If I cannot win her over directly, then perhaps there is another way to her heart. I know! “I will focus my efforts on the very thing that makes her heart happy. The one thing she values most in this world.”
Neli’s face turns sheet white, a startling contrast to her black dress that makes her look nearly vampirific. “Oh no. Please don’t tell me you’re going to take her family hostage and force her to marry you.”
“No. Although that is a very fine idea. However, I think winning them over is a more prudent plan if I wish to spend eternity with her and not worry about being staked in my coffin each night.”
“Agreed. So…?”
“So, you will point out the judges to me.”
“Boz. No.” Neli groans.
“Yes.”
“No. Stella will not be happy if you do what I think you’re doing.” She shakes a finger at me, and I notice she’s painted her fingernails red.
Still can’t resist her whoring ways, I see. She is lucky I care for her so much, or I would have her fingernails removed to teach her a lesson.
“Then we will make sure she never finds out,” I say. “So cool your jets.” Read that helpful phrase in Men’s Magazine. Right after I laughed hysterically over an article about pills for human men who can’t get “stiffies.” Losers. Do they not know they simply have to fill a clay jar with walnuts and leave it on their windowsill under a full moon, as an offering to the God of Erections? That’s what the men of my time used to do, and look at all the people we have now!
Neli makes a little growl, displeased by my plan. “Boz, if you hypnotize the judges to give the award to Stellariva, and it’s not actually the best wine, I guarantee she’ll know. She’s too smart not to figure it out. The wine will be slammed by connoisseurs and wine snobs around the globe. Thousands will wonder how their wines beat out the better wines.”
“Wine preference is subjective.”
“Said no judge ever at this contest.”
Grrrr… I loathe when Neli is right—I mean disagrees with me. Nevertheless, this is war. War for love. And every vampire knows that one must use every weapon in his or her arsenal to win wars. “Not to worry, Neli, I know what I’m doing.”
“Please, Boz. Please reconsider. Stella wouldn’t want our little project to win through cheating. She’s a good person, remember?”
That urge to be a stand-up vampire for my mate kicks in, and I feel my heart start to beat like a drum inside my chest. But Stella is nowhere near me.
What does this mean? I do not know, but I feel something shifting deep inside me. “Very well. I will find another way.”
She lets out a sigh. “Good. That’s good. Because if you’re going to break the curse, you’re going to have to step up and be the unselfish hero who’s learned his lesson about what it means to be a good man. I read it in your character arc.”
“Neli, have you been licking toads again? I thought I made it clear that the use of hallucinogens is not permitted by staff. Please cease immediately. Oh, and thank you for reminding me of the curse and my imminent destruction at the hands of the woman I am meant to love for all eternity.” Prince Bozhidar, I curse you to sleep until a woman is born who will teach you humility and kindness, whose beauty is so majestic, it will bring you to your knees. She will break your heart, and you will feel the misery, same as I.
“Boz, I can’t speak for Olga, but I do know one thing: If she’d truly wanted you to suffer, she would have tied you to a stake in the town square, let her evil crows pick you apart piece by piece, then covered your raw flesh in flammable liquid, and used your severed manhood as the torch to light you on fire.”
I cringe. “So vivid.”
“I know.” She smiles with a satisfied glassy look in her eyes. “It’s my go-to happy place.”
I snarl at Neli.
“Sorry.” She clears her throat. “The point is, Boz, I don’t think Olga wanted to destroy you. She just wanted to mess with your head and teach you a lesson—she was in love with you but probably knew she could never have you. Witches and vampires can’t be mates. And she probably knew her magic couldn’t keep you asleep once your mate came onto the scene. Destiny waits for no man. Or wo-man.”
Could Neli be right? Could this entire curse business have been a bit of a ruse? Yes, Olga put me to sleep for five centuries, but the rest was just nonsense. My destiny is Stella, and that means I must stop playing games with token gestures to win her heart and acceptance. I must go all in. Hold nothing back.
I look at Neli. “Thank you, Cornelia. You are truly the best major-dorko a vampire could ask for.”
She smiles and dips her head. “My pleasure. Just as long as you keep your end of the bargain.”
When major-dorkos fly, Neli. “Of course. I would never go back on my word,” I lie. I never said I was a completely changed man. I am, after all, still a vampire.
“Good. Let’s have some wine,” Neli says.
“Yes. Let us.” We walk toward one of the tuxedoed waiters. I know what I must do tonight—how I will show Stella I am not a monster and would do anything for her happiness and safe…safe… I glance over at Neli. “You did call the mercenaries to inform them that one of the residents would be coming home early, yes? I wouldn’t wan
t Stella to come home and find a stranger in her house. She’s had enough excitement already.” We took care of the lead hunter last night, but there were still several back home, staking out our castle from Stella’s attic. I assume they’re all taken care of by now, but those little buggers can be slippery.
I turn my head and Neli is gone. “Neli?”
Where has that girl gone now?
I shrug. I suppose she went to check in with the mercenaries. Yes. That is what she is doing. I can always count on Neli.
Stella
I can’t believe how long that trip was. I drop my suitcase in the foyer, go into the living room, and plop down on the plush blue sofa. Home sweet home. Sadie lifts her head and wags her tail, but like the true ball of laziness she is, she goes right back to sleep. I bet Max overfed you with lots of treats as usual. He kept her dog bowl full and checked in on the winery while we were away—not that there was much to do. We’ve hardly had any customers lately, and sadly, things aren’t looking like they’ll change. France was a bust.
I groan with a headache and press my palms to my eyelids. What should have been a sixteen-hour flight with a layover in New York turned out to be a thirty-hour nightmare.
I seriously can’t believe I was detained. It had been the strangest thing too, because the officers had been waiting for me when I disembarked at JFK to go through immigration and customs. Then they put me in a room and made me watch while a dog sniffed his way through my suitcase. But hands down, the worst part was the strip search. I had no clue they even did that kind of stuff.
Ugh…I feel like I just went to prison. Of course, they didn’t find anything, so they had to let me go, but I missed my connecting flight. The next available seat wasn’t until the following morning. Just my luck. I even had to pay the change-ticket fee! Jerks! For the life of me, though, I don’t understand why I was picked. Like someone tipped them off.
The bittersweet lining out of the entire thing was that when I finally landed in San Francisco and turned my phone back on, I got five messages from Eliza. The messages had somehow been delayed, maybe because of the whole overseas roaming thing? Anyway, our wine got a ribbon, basically a respectable nod, which is great considering it was our first international competition, but we didn’t make it to the final round. Castle Sangria’s solo entry, however, placed gold again in the full-bodied red category, where all the heavy-hitting merlot and cab blends compete.
Fanged Love, Book 1 Page 17