Vampire Romance Series - Coffee And Vampires 1-7 (Vampire Romance Bundle)

by S L Hartley

  Van shrugged, not bothering to get off the couch. He lazily brushed a strand of blond hair out of his eyes, and when he spoke he looked past Page at Nicholas. “Landlord let me in. He remembers me.”

  Page ground her teeth. I need to have a talk with the landlord, she thought. “I said you weren’t welcome here, Van.”

  “And I,” Van said, “told you that you were better off staying away from that bloodsucker. Vampires are monsters. He’s just playing with his food.”

  Page looked back at Nicholas frantically. To her amazement, rather than looking on with bewilderment, he was cringing and blinking rapidly as though trying not to cry.

  “I never,” he stammered. “I wouldn’t. . .”

  Van stood and crossed the small apartment in a few steps, shoving Page aside so he could stand nose-to-nose with the other man. “But you didn’t tell her, did you? You can’t even come inside without permission, can you?”

  Nicholas visibly braced himself and said haltingly, “It’s rude to enter someone’s home otherwise.” He turned helplessly to Page. “I would have told you,” he said softly.

  “We can talk about it later,” Page said, struggling to keep her anger and surprise contained. “Maybe you should go home for now, though.” And I’ll distract Van long enough so he doesn’t do something stupid like follow you home. “Please, Nicholas,” she said more gently. The tall, pale man nodded and turned to leave. “No, Van,” Page said sternly as the larger man attempted to follow. “You leave him alone.”

  Page closed the door firmly, separating Van from Nicholas. Van looked less than pleased.

  “I’m going to spell this out for you, Donovan,” Page said, speaking slowly and carefully. “You are not to enter my home without my permission.”

  Van was livid. “You need someone to protect you! Do you realize he’s strong enough to tear you apart with his bare hands?” In his rage, he had grabbed Page by both shoulders and pinned her against the wall near the door.

  “So are you!” Page snapped. Van stared at his hands digging into Page’s shoulders and looked stricken. “Nicholas hasn’t so much as laid a hand on me without asking. Which means he’s been a hell of a lot more polite than you’ve been lately.”

  Van relinquished his grip. “Get out,” Page ordered.

  “Page,” Van said weakly. “I just. . . .”

  “I don’t wanna hear it right now,” Page said, nearly in tears. “Out.”

  Van finally obeyed, but not before gently tucking a lock of Page’s black hair behind one of her ears. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just want the best for you.”

  Page shook her head and closed her eyes, and didn’t open them again until she heard the door open and shut. She locked it and went to bed still fully dressed, though sleep was long in coming and tainted with nightmares that tasted of bitter coffee when it did.

  ****

  Chapter 3

  “You seem down,” Janine commented. Page shrugged.

  It had been almost a week since her first date with Nicholas – that wonderful, perfect date which ended so badly when her ex-boyfriend Donovan decided to meet them at her apartment. And let himself in.

  Page still couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten inside. The landlord insisted that he hadn’t given out any extra keys and refused to change the locks, politely suggesting that she was imagining things when she told him her ex-boyfriend had broken in. She’d taken to pushing the couch against the door at night. It might be a fire hazard, but at least no one could get inside without waking her up in the process.

  In the meantime, Nicholas hadn’t called, nor had he picked up his phone when she finally gave in and called him. She kept herself from leaving more than one voicemail. “Please,” she’d said. “I just want to talk to you.”

  She wanted to tell Nicholas she didn’t care if he was a vampire. She’d already dated a werewolf; it wasn’t like things could get much stranger. She wanted to tell Nicholas that Van hadn’t had permission to be in her apartment. She wanted to tell Nicholas that Van, in fact, had no permission to be anywhere in her life right now.

  But she couldn’t tell him anything at all if he wouldn’t talk to her. He hadn’t even come back to the café.

  Meanwhile, Van had been everywhere. He hadn’t broken into Page’s apartment again as far as she could tell, but she kept running into him in the grocery store or while running errands far more than was comfortable. He’d even showed up to the café a few times while Page was on shift until Janine managed to drop a pot of coffee on him.

  Page almost wished he’d just disappear again. To think she’d been happy to see him when he first reappeared!

  Her shift ended, and she gathered up her things in order to walk home. Unsurprisingly, Van joined her about a block away from the café.

  “Please talk to me,” he said, keeping pace with her. Page resisted the urge to walk faster. Running had never helped.

  “Leave me alone,” she said evenly.

  “You can’t really mean that,” Van said. “I was good for you, all these years. You have to know that.”

  Page tried not to look at him.

  “When you father died?” Van reminded her. “You were an absolute wreck, and your mom was worse. Who took care of you then, huh?”

  Page gritted her teeth a little. The months after her father’s death had been brutal – and she’d spent most of her days at Van’s family’s house instead of her own, desperate to get away from all the damned little things that kept reminding her of Dad. Mom hadn’t made things any easier. When she wasn’t crying or holed up in her room, she was always wanting to talk about him and look at old photos and talking about how much better things had been when he was alive.

  He died, Mom, she had wanted to say so often. A heart attack. He wasn’t even old, but that didn’t stop his heart from giving out. Talking about him couldn’t bring him back, and Page found that life was a lot easier if she didn’t think about him too often.

  “And when I left, what’d you do?” Van went on. “Nothing. You’re still living in the same crappy little apartment, working the same menial little job. You could be better than this, Page, if you’d just let me help you!”

  The werewolf followed her into her building, berating her until she reached her apartment on the fourth floor, taking the three flights of steps with ease. Page pulled out her keys and wheeled around, clutching her keychain like a weapon.

  “Go home,” she said. “Now.”

  Van’s eyes narrowed, and though he didn’t say anything, Page swore she could hear a faint growl emitting from his throat. Then he brightened up a little. “Just a cup of coffee. Let me talk. Then I’ll go if you want me to.”

  “Promise?”

  Van nodded, and Page caved in. She unlocked the door and the two of them entered her apartment.

  Page went straight to the coffee maker and began filling the filter with fresh grounds. When the pot’s empty, I’ll have an excuse to end the conversation, she thought. She thought Van would go to the couch as usual, but instead he hovered just behind her, cornering her in the kitchen. Page tried to force herself not to feel uneasy. She and Van had been friends since they were kids. Sure, they’d dated and then broken up, but he wasn’t dangerous even if he could turn into a wolf when he wanted to.

  “Making coffee,” he said, with a derisive snort. “You spend all your time making things for other people. When was the last time you did anything for yourself?”

  I went on a date a bit ago, Page thought, but the thought seemed very small and quiet. She filled the reservoir and turned on the pot, still not looking at Van. That was for me.

  “I left to get a better grip on my powers,” Van explained. “I never wanted to leave you. We’re better off together. Page, don’t you still love me?”

  Page raised and lowered one shoulder. “Three years is a long time, Van. I moved on. You should too.”

  “I don’t want to!” Van growled, and this time it really was a growl. Page turned an
d stared at him, wide-eyed. His eyes had gone flinty and hard, and cords were standing out on his neck. She tried to take a step back but found she was already at the wall. Van placed both of his hands just above her shoulders and leaned in, so close she could feel his breath on her face. “You’re mine,” he said, very slowly and patiently, though the words still vibrated unnaturally low in his throat. He leaned even closer, moving as though to kiss her.

  Page flailed desperately with her right arm and grabbed the first object that came to hand. The half-full coffee pot. She swung it sideways, dumping the contents down Van’s side. He leaped back, hissing with pain. Page held the now-empty pot before her like a weapon.

  Van shook his head sadly. “Did you really think a little hot water could stop me?” His eyes had more than narrowed – they’d elongated and turned golden. His teeth had also started to grow, and Page could literally see his hair growing, moving to cover his neck and face.

  “Not really,” she said, and swung the pot as hard as she could at his face. The pot shattered and the impact numbed her arm up to the shoulder. Van reeled backwards, clapping his hands to his face. Page tried to duck underneath him and make a dash for the door, but he swung out wildly and sent her sprawling over the floor.

  “You little bitch,” he said thickly, blood streaming from cuts over his face. He reached out for Page, who found herself suddenly paralyzed on the floor.

  The door burst open then, and something leapt over Page and barreled into Van, knocking him into the same wall Page had been cornered against.

  “Don’t you dare touch her!” Nicholas’s usually calm, quiet voice was contorted with cold fury. “Ah. . . .” Van had stood up a bit straighter, and there was very little that looked human about him now. His face had elongated into a muzzle filled with sharp teeth, and his entire body was covered with fur and had also grown much larger. He was now broader than the refrigerator next to him, and so tall he had to stoop in order to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling of the apartment.

  Nicholas took a couple light steps backward and easily scooped Page up in his arms.

  “Hang on,” he said grimly, and bolted for the window. Page didn’t even have time to scream before Nicholas turned slightly sideways, plowing straight through the glass shoulder-first. The subsequent fall seemed to take forever before they met the ground with a jolt, Nicholas stumbling and nearly dropping Page.

  His blue Volkswagen was parked just a few steps away. Nicholas halfway set Page down to unlock it and pushed her inside before rushing to the driver’s seat. He started the car and peeled out of the space, knuckles white on the wheel.

  “Are you okay?” he asked finally.

  Page wasn’t sure. She was breathing hard and her heart seemed like it might pound right out of her chest. Her face felt wet, and when she tried to wipe it away her fingers came away red with blood. “I’m bleeding,” she said softly.

  Nicholas swore. “The glass. I’m so sorry, but I wasn’t sure if he could catch me on the stairs. I’m certain he jumped down after us.”

  Page looked back nervously, expecting to see a massive wolf bounding after the little car. Seeing nothing, she turned forward again, gently probing the cut on her face. It was long but didn’t seem to be very deep.

  “Don’t touch it,” Nicholas said. He seemed agitated.

  “Is the blood a problem?” Page asked timidly.

  Nicholas shook his head sharply. “No. I just don’t know where to take you. My first instinct would be the hospital, but in his current state I think he’d break in there, too. He’s past caring.”

  “Where do you think would be safe?” Page was ashamed to find her voice trembling, inches away from sobbing.

  “Honestly?” Nicholas asked, glancing quickly back and forth at an intersection before blowing a red light. “The place where we had coffee. Yes. That’d be best.” He seemed almost to be speaking to himself. “I’ll explain when we get there, but I promise you’ll be safe.”

  Page sniffed and nodded, folding her arms over her chest.

  Nicholas pulled up in front of the coffee shop and bounded over the hood of the small car in his haste to help her out. He pressed a cold hand to her bleeding face as they stepped back inside the little café.

  The place was emptier than it had been last time, probably since it was barely seven pm on a weeknight, but the same androgynously-pretty tanned boy was manning the counter. His head jerked up as they stumbled in, Nicholas supporting Page and still applying pressure to her face.

  “Help us!” Nicholas begged. The boy nodded and moved quickly, brandishing a clean cloth in one hand. He replaced the pressure of Nicholas’s hand on Page’s face. Page clapped her own hand to the cloth, pressing against the now-burning cut.

  “Let’s take you in back,” the boy said calmly. “No need to have you out here with everyone staring.”

  With that, he led Page and Nicholas back through the kitchen and through a side door which led into another small room with a narrow bed and a few chairs. Nicholas guided Page to the bed and set her down gently.

  “How’s your face, girl?” the boy asked.

  “Just glass,” Page muttered.

  This seemed to satisfy him, because he then turned to Nicholas. “Why’d you bring her here?”

  Nicholas swallowed. “Armand, her ex-boyfriend’s a werewolf.” There was a distinct note of pleading in his voice. “Doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no.’”

  Armand turned back to Page, his face softening. “This true?”

  Haltingly, Page told the boy – Armand – the whole story. About how she couldn’t trust the locks on her own door. How Van had been following her. How he’d attacked her. How Nicholas had rescued her.

  Armand, who’d laughed when she told him about using her coffee pot as a weapon, looked sharply at Nicholas when she mentioned him. “Why were you there?” he asked.

  Nicholas looked uncomfortable. “I came by to apologize,” he said. “For disappearing on her. I even had flowers.”

  Page thought this over. “I thought you needed an invitation to go inside someone’s home.”

  “I do,” Nicholas said. “You gave me one the first time I brought you home.”

  Armand chewed his lip. “I’ll send my guys looking for Van. If he’s still shifted and running around town, we could have a problem. Page, you should stay here for now.”

  “I have to go back to work tomorrow,” Page protested. “It can’t be that big—”

  “Page,” Armand said firmly. “Your ex-boyfriend wasn’t just following you. He was stalking you. He broke into your apartment before. Your landlord isn’t cooperating. And this guy, Van. . .” he made a vague gesture over his head. “Blond? Size of a house?” Page nodded. “Okay. I know him. And he shifted in order to attack you. Do you really think you’re safe as long as he knows where you live? Where you work? No.” Armand waved a thin hand dismissively. “You can stay here. Nicholas, take care of her. I need to see to the customers, make sure we don’t attract too much more suspicion.” With that, he swept out of the room, leaving Page and Nicholas alone.

  Page smiled a little, ignoring the twinge from her cut cheek. Nicholas dug through the drawer in the bedside table, eventually pulling out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a small bag of cotton balls.

  “I can still take you to the hospital if you’d feel safer there,” he said in an undertone as she peeled the bloodied cloth away from her face. He wet a cotton ball with the alcohol and began expertly swabbing her face, apologizing when she winced.

  “No,” Page said. Her experience with her landlord had left her leery of normal authority. “You guys seem to know what you’re dealing with.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not uncommon,” Nicholas sighed. “Not all werewolves are that bad. Armand certainly isn’t. But there’s a few packs that are big on. . .” he hesitated, as though searching for words. “Entitlement, I guess. Might makes right. You mentioned that he’d disappeared for a couple years.”


  Page nodded, nearly getting a cotton ball in her eye for the trouble. “Yes. He said he learned about controlling his powers. Stayed with family.”

  “Hmm.” Nicholas stopped swabbing and inspected the cut. “You’ll be fine,” he said crisply, changing the subject. “Won’t even need stitches.”

  “Why did you disappear?” Page asked suddenly.

  “I was ashamed,” Nicholas said simply, looking at the floor. His glasses had been knocked askew during the skirmish and he still hadn’t adjusted them. Page reached out and carefully set them straight on his ears. He smiled. “I hadn’t told you, and what he said. . . part of me wondered if it was true, you know? That you were just prey.”

  “Was I?” Page asked.

  Nicholas shook his head. “I’ve never taken blood from anyone who wasn’t willing. I didn’t really lie to you before, either. There was a car crash, and it did kill my grandparents. It almost killed me too, though, but one of the EMTs saved me. He told me later his son had died in a car accident and he couldn’t stand to see another kid die so pointlessly. So he turned me, and made sure I woke up in a ward where all the nurses were vampires.”

  “All of them?” Page asked, shocked.

  Nicholas grinned at her incredulity. “There’s more of us than you’d think. Nursing is a good career for a vampire. Doctors need to go through more background checks, and they’re on a stricter schedule. But a nurse? No one questions a nurse with a cooler full of blood bags and a bedpan in his hand.”

  Page laughed and was surprised to find that she suddenly felt a bit lighter. “So what happens now?”

  Nicholas shrugged. “This café, if you haven’t guessed, is kind of a safe house for anyone who’s a bit. . .out of the ordinary. Includes people like you who are otherwise normal but got swept up in it. We’ll do our best to keep you safe – help you move out of your apartment, find a new place to stay. You might even want to look for a new job.”

  “Janine,” Page said weakly. “Van knows we’re friends.”

  “I’ll ask someone to keep an eye on her, if you like,” Nicholas said. Page nodded gratefully. Nicholas began to stand up. “Perhaps you should rest. Think things over.”