A Vampire Bundle: The Real Werewives of Vampire County, When Darkness Comes, Real Vamps Don't Drink O-Neg, & Hunted by the Others

by Alexandra Ivy

  “You said you had an open mind,” he challenged, his gaze drilling hers until she squirmed, for more than one reason. “Read the whole thing before you make a judgment. We must know what we are searching for before we can find it.”

  “That part I can agree with.” She gave him a quick questioning glance, which was answered with a slight shake of his head. Then she dropped her eyes to the article and started reading.

  After about two paragraphs, however, Sophie realized she didn’t understand a single word the author was saying. She handed the paper back to Ric. “This is way over my head. It should be in a theology textbook, not in a tabloid.”

  “My point exactly.”

  “Why would they print this?”

  “Because it has a spark of truth yet seems unbelievable as well.”

  “Want to give me a layman’s summary then? I mean, if you’ve got this all figured out, why don’t you have the sword and shield already?”

  “Spear. Romakh Yehowshu’a. Joshua’s spear. Because I don’t have it all figured out yet. But I’m hoping you’ll be able to help me; we’ll tackle it together. I’ve been working on this for a long time but haven’t been able to make the pieces fit.”

  She laughed. “You honestly don’t expect me to believe that I—the one who doesn’t know diddly about the Bible, or David or Joshua or Jewish symbols—will be able to help you—a superbrilliant college professor? How could I possibly help you? For all practical purposes, I’d say I need you more than you need me.”

  “That’s very kind,” he said, his eyes sparkling, his expression full of naughty promises, which had her retracing her words to see if she’d said anything too suggestive.

  When she realized the “I need you” thing could be taken at least a couple of ways, she felt her face heating again. Her privates went into party mode. “I’m talking about the research, you understand.”

  One side of his mouth quirked. “Of course. So was I. In researching this topic, you happen to have one thing going for you that I don’t—objectivity.”

  She felt her still-stinging face screwing up into a mask of confusion. “My friend is possibly near death, his very life being drained by what my boss is telling me is a real-life vampire, and you say I’m objective? I’d say I’m desperate.”

  “You’re objective because you don’t have any preconceived notions—”

  “Sure I do. I assumed the shield and spear were literal weapons. And I’m still skeptical of your theory that they’re not. So why don’t you tell me the real reason why you invited me here tonight? I’m dying to know.”

  He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, as if he was trying to find a gentle way to break some bad news to her. “Because I sense we both need someone at our side as we travel this road. Am I wrong?”

  “You?”

  “Yes.”

  Her heart did a little pitter-pattering. He needed her. Not just because she was brilliant and could solve some riddle for him—which she wasn’t and couldn’t—but because he wanted her at his side, his partner. “That would be…nice.”

  “But before we shake on this deal, I need to hear it. I need to hear you need me too, and not just because I know more about this subject than you do.”

  “Wow. Okay.” Her gaze brushed over his features—the cute crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the little mole on his left cheek—and felt the warmth of his companionship and friendship in eyes gone all warm and golden seep into her bones. “I need someone whom I can trust, someone who won’t laugh when I make a stupid mistake, and someone who’ll cheer me on when I get frustrated. Although I haven’t known you but a couple of hours tops, I feel like that person is you. That I’ve been searching for you, that I’ve known you a whole lot longer than one day. Is that strange?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good. Then we have a deal? We’re not just going to share this book but we’re going to share this journey, help each other, any way we can?”

  “You bet.” Just like he had in the library, he offered his hand to her, and just like before, she took it. Again, a strange tingle buzzed up her arm, like a current of low-voltage electricity. Not sure what it was, or if it would hurt her, she gave his hand a quick shake, then released it, checking her hand when he let go.

  Just like that, with a simple handshake, they formed their partnership.

  But only one knew what that handshake really meant.

  Chapter 4

  “Stay the night.”

  Sophie took one look at Lisse’s face and gave her head a vehement shake. “No. Thanks.” It wasn’t because Lisse looked particularly bothered by Dao’s suggestion, but the opposite, because she looked fairly pleased by it. If—and Sophie admitted this was still a big if—Lisse was a vampire, the fact that she was seemingly thrilled to have another female under her roof for the night didn’t bode well for Sophie’s health and well-being. What good would she be to Dao if she was dead?

  “Please,” Dao said. “We have a great deal of catching up to do. We haven’t seen each other in such a long time, since before the wedding.”

  “I was here a few days ago.”

  “You were not. Don’t lie to me.”

  Now, she was really worried. Never mind the fact that it seemed her already skeletally thin friend looked like he’d lost another few pounds, but now he was confused too. He needed to get to a doctor. Pronto!

  “What time’s your doctor’s appointment tomorrow?”

  “His appointment is at eight o’clock and it would be a great help if you could take him,” Lisse answered. “I was going to have him drive himself, but I worry about his safety.”

  “That makes two of us,” Sophie said, still not feeling real keen on the idea of staying in the same home with a suspected blood-sucking husband killer.

  “And I’m afraid I have a prior appointment I cannot reschedule,” Lisse said importantly. “It would be a great help—to both of us—if you’d take him. I know you’ve been a great friend to my husband in the past.”

  “I’d be happy to drive by in the morning and pick him up.”

  “That’s foolish!” Dao piped in. “You’ve stayed here hundreds of times. In morning rush hour it’d take you over an hour to get here. We have a perfectly comfortable spare bedroom. You’ll have privacy.”

  He was systematically killing off every one of her believable excuses. Darn it.

  “I don’t have any clothes, toothbrush. Can’t deny the importance of oral hygiene,” she said, frantically working her way through the unbelievable excuses now. She had a feeling in her belly that this was a bad—with a capital B—idea. That if she spent the night there, something very terrible would happen. To her, to Dao, maybe to both of them.

  “Yes, you do,” Dao countered. “You left several things here the last time you spent the night. You have some toiletries in the bathroom and clothes hanging in the closet. And since I know you can wear casual clothes to work, I won’t hear the excuse that they’re not dressy enough.”

  “Speaking of work, I’d have to call Tim,” Sophie said, pulling one final excuse from her stash, knowing Dao wouldn’t have a card to trump that one. “Tell him I’m coming in late tomorrow. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I can call the doctor’s office and reschedule the appointment.”

  “Very well,” Dao said. “You can use our phone. Call him now.”

  Whew! Disaster averted. “I’ll need the doctor’s phone number.”

  “No. I mean your boss,” Dao corrected. “Call him.”

  “He’s not in the office on Sundays,” Sophie lied, knowing he would be. Tim never took a day off work, not even when he was near death with the flu.

  “You can leave a message then,” Lisse offered, handing Sophie the cordless. “Please, this would mean so much to both of us.”

  I bet it would. “Well…” Sophie figured her best bet was to call Tim, the boss who expected her to show up as well when she was near death, and let him do the deed for her. There was no way he�
�d let her come in late on such short notice, at least not without her doing some serious groveling, which she’d been prepared to do if she hadn’t been pressured to stay the night. Now, there was no way she’d get on her knees and grovel. “Okay. I’ll give it a try but my boss is a real slave driver, let me tell you.” She punched the number and when he picked up said, “Hi, Tim. It’s Sophie. Wow, what’re you doing in the office on a Sunday?”

  “You know I always work on Sundays,” was his dry response.

  “Oh, really?” She tried to look surprised as she gave Dao and Lisse a what-do-you-know look.

  “I am talking to Sophie Hahn, my secretary, am I not?” Tim asked.

  “Yes, of course. Listen, I need to come in late tomorrow morning.”

  Naturally, Tim protested with all the bluster he was famous for. She turned apologetic eyes to Dao and Lisse, respectively, as she listened to Tim’s lecture about the need for him to be able to count on her to show up for work every day no matter what.

  “Actually, it’s not me. It’s my friend Dao,” she explained when he paused to take a breath. “He’s ill and his wife can’t take him to the doctor tomorrow morning,” Sophie continued, figuring that last part would lay the last couple of nails into the proverbial coffin. “They want me to stay with them tonight and take him to the doctor in the morning.”

  Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

  “What?” Tim screeched. He then went into Paranormal Geek mode and told her this was the opportunity of a lifetime, one she had to take, no matter the risks. He told her to try to catch the wife by surprise, snap a picture or two when she was in her snakewoman state, and collect any scales or proof she could find, then suggested she sleep with a string of garlic around her neck and wished her luck.

  As she punched the button, ending the call, for a few seconds she considered lying to Dao and Lisse but changed her mind. Maybe Tim was right. Maybe this was exactly what she needed, the opportunity to see for herself whether her best friend was married to a grotesque snakewoman. Or just a woman. At least she’d see her friend received the medical care he so desperately needed.

  “It’s all set. I just need to go pick up a few things at the store.” Sophie headed for the front door.

  “Wonderful!” Dao said, looking as chipper as he’d been on his wedding day.

  Lisse caught Sophie’s wrist in ice-cold fingers. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.”

  Sophie’s gaze dropped to the other woman’s clammy hand, then climbed up to her face. “No problem. I’ll be back in a few.” She gently wriggled her hand free of the woman’s grip and, fighting a shiver, ran out to her car.

  A quick trip to a local Meijer landed her all the goodies she could think to buy for a night spent with a vampire, including plenty of garlic and a throwaway camera. She returned to Dao’s house just in time for some dinner.

  The only thing that convinced Sophie that it was safe to eat the delicious-smelling food was the fact that it was served family style, each person helping himself or herself from bowls of steamed rice, stir-fried veggies, and scrumptious garlic chicken. Sophie ate herself into a near coma, then excused herself to the guest room, figuring she’d better get to sleep early if she was going to prowl around in the middle of the night playing vampire slayer.

  Dao ate a whole lot more than Sophie expected, considering his weight loss, and then excitedly excused himself to his office to work on his latest project. His office was next door to her room. The distant tap-tapping of his computer keys lulled her to sleep.

  “A rare beauty,” a decidedly male voice murmured sometime later. The voice was rich and deep, much lower in pitch than Dao’s.

  “Who’s there?” Sophie blinked open her eyes and sat up. The covers slid down, exposing her upper body to the chilly air. Not sure if the room was pitch or her eyelids were still closed, she blinked several times. No, her eyes were definitely open.

  “Your skin is smooth as silk,” the voice said.

  “Who’s here? And how can you see a blasted thing in here? It’s darker than a bottomless cave.”

  “Pit. You mean bottomless pit,” the voice corrected.

  “Whatever.” She felt the string of garlic lifting from her chest and swatted at the air, trying to find the hand that was pulling it away. “Hey! What’re you doing? Leave that alone. Dammit, why’s it so dark in here? Where’s the lamp?”

  “I can see you just fine. I can see the way your hair falls over your shoulders, how one strand curls around your breast. I can see your pupils, dilated from the dark, and from your fear.”

  “Now I know you’re lying. ’Cause I’m not afraid. Annoyed, yes. Scared, not.” She yanked on the strap of her tank top—it had slid down over her shoulder—and tried to pretend her heart wasn’t thumping so hard against her breastbone that she swore she could hear it. The voice-in-the-dark thing was plain too weird for words. She scooted to the side of the bed so she could flip on a light, but as she dropped her legs over the side, something pushed against her shoulders, knocking her onto her back. “Okay, deep voice guy. Now things are getting creepy. Get the hell out of here.”

  “Such fire. Such passion. I can smell your fear. It’s the most intoxicating aphrodisiac on earth.”

  Something brushed across her breast.

  “Eep!” Totally blind and not sure where the guy was, she did a log roll on the mattress and then tried to jump up. Again, she was knocked down. And these weren’t gentle shoves. They were the kind of blows a woman should never be the victim of. They were the kind of blows that sent Sophie’s head spinning and bile up her throat. She screamed but a large, cold hand clapped over her mouth, muffling the sound almost immediately.

  “There’s no need for that.” Cool lips pressed against her temple as fingers traced up her arm. “I’m not going to hurt you. At least not much.” His chuckle was empty, evil.

  She shuddered and tried to scream again but his hand was still pressed firmly against her mouth. Try as she might, she couldn’t even bite it.

  Those icky fingers skittered up her arm like spiders, then along her collarbone and down toward her breast. She kicked at the blackness, hoping to strike him by dumb luck, but the only effect her efforts produced was the weight of a body on the tops of her thighs. That left only her arms free. She raised them to the hand pressed so firmly against her mouth that she felt like she might suffocate and dug her nails into the cool skin.

  He didn’t react, at least not the way she was hoping. Instead of recoiling, he threw his weight on her arms, ripped the front of her tank top off, and with little effort gagged her. Then he tore her sweats down the front and pulled them off. In the darkness, the rending sound of the cotton blend struck terror in her. Certain she was fighting now for her life, she struggled against him as he spread her legs and tied them to the footboard, then bound her hands together.

  The fabric he used was pulled so tight her skin burned and her hands went instantly numb.

  Her throat stung and she realized she had been screaming, despite the gag. Hot tears ran down her temples and wetted her hair.

  A split second later, the room unexpectedly filled with light, forcing her to blink and squint as she struggled to get a look at her assailant.

  She was shocked. If not for the fact that the jerk had knocked her from here to tomorrow and torn her clothes off her body, she might’ve thought he was a stone fox. Almost the opposite of Ric, this guy was dark. He had long, dark hair, a masculine, square-jawed face with intense eyes. The only things they shared in common were their very large, very strong-looking bodies.

  She tried to talk through the gag, ask him why he was doing this. Surely this guy, looking the way he did, didn’t need to sneak into women’s bedrooms in the middle of the night to get some action.

  He stood at the foot of the bed, thick, muscular arms crossed over a massive chest, and regarded her with a stern expression. “Look what you made me do. I didn’t want it to be this way, love.” Still co
mpletely clothed—head to toe in black—he crawled on top of her. His gaze was fierce and wild as it met hers, like a dog that was poised for attack.

  Her nose burned as another round of tears dribbled from her eyes. She shook her head back and forth, trying to plead with him with her eyes, hoping she might reach a soft part of him, somewhere deep inside. A part of him that could show mercy.

  “This your first time?” he asked, nodding his head. His touch was unexpectedly soft as he wiped away the wetness streaming down either side of her face. “She didn’t tell me that. I’ll make it good for you. I promise.” He followed the path of her tears with a trail of soft kisses. “I’m so glad you decided to stay here tonight.”

  “She? Who? You knew?” she asked around the gag. Naturally, it didn’t come out like that and he had no idea what she said.

  He nodded, though she knew for a fact he couldn’t be responding to her question, and sat up on his knees, wedged tightly against her hips. “The first time is always frightening. But after this, you’ll learn to enjoy it. There’s nothing like it, or so I’ve heard. I’ve been told it’s very erotic.”

  What? What are you going to do to me? Sophie’s heart hammered against her ribs, sending adrenaline through her body. Every muscle in her coiled like tight springs, despite the bindings holding her legs straight and apart and her arms up over her head. Over and over, she tested the strength of the fabric holding her, yanking, twisting, tugging, but it didn’t give. Not an inch.

  Meanwhile, she tried, despite panic so intense she was nearly blind, to study his face. When she went to the police—assuming she lived!—she wanted to be able to describe every inch of this bastard, right down to the mole on his ass if he had one. He would pay! Big-time!

  When his hand cupped her breast, she arched her back in a quick thrust, hoping to knock it away. It worked, but only for an instant. He seemed undaunted as he grabbed the center hook of her bra and unfastened it, then squeezed both her breasts, one with each hand. “So lovely. So full and ripe.” He leaned lower and she shut her eyes, unable to watch him as he closed his mouth over her nipple. She was scared. Furious. Panic-stricken. Desperate to get away. Pissed off.