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

  “I do believe you.” Laughing, he snatched her into the tightest naked bear hug of her life.

  “Can’t. Breathe.”

  “If you can talk, you can breathe.” He kissed her cheek, her eyes, her jaw, then released her and sat up.

  Sitting did some very yummy things to his abs, and lifting his arms to stretch did some very yummy things to his shoulders as well. He smiled down at her as she openly goggled him.

  “Shouldn’t we get going?” she asked, tipping her head to check the road. It would be her luck that while she’d been getting her jollies in the field their car had been towed. Luckily, by raising up on her knees, she could see it was still there. “Wouldn’t want to end up stranded out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Ummm. That might not be such a bad thing.”

  “You’re terrible. My friend’s near death and you want to hang out in the cornfields and frolic.”

  He cringed. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  “Thank you. He means everything to me, is the closest I have to family anymore. He’s helped me through some tough times. Now it’s my turn. But I don’t have much time, not if what Tim said is right. It’s killing me that we have to wait until tomorrow to meet with that lady. But it’s the best we can do.”

  “You know, we still have the rest of tonight,” he teased, evidently trying to lift her suddenly drooping spirits. “Want to frolic a little more before we go?” He gave her a toothy grin that did indeed pull her out of her worry a bit.

  “No.”

  He looked injured.

  “I mean, it was great. Beyond great, actually. But I’ll feel better when we get to Grand Rapids and know we’re ready for tomorrow. I do have one question.” She sat up and crawled over the blanket, gathering her clothes. “Um…” she said, not sure how to ask the question that was still hanging around the back of her mind. “Are we…am I…what did this mean tonight?”

  His left eyebrow shot to the top of his forehead. “Mean?”

  “You know. You said you’d have to make me your wife to keep me safe from that other guy. So, when we…you know…did that make us…make me yours forever?”

  “Forever? No. Not at all. But it was good for me too. The best.” He patted her knee, then pulled on his underwear.

  Her face flamed. She stared at her knee, then glared at him as she yanked on her underwear and jeans. “What the heck was that?”

  “Reassurance?” He pulled on his pants and stood to buckle his belt.

  “No. That was not reassurance. It sounded…” Egotistical. Demeaning. “…nothing like reassurance.”

  “Sorry. Let me try this again. You asked what tonight meant, in reference to my earlier remark about protecting you from the dark one. My clan has a very long, very complicated process for marriage. Mainly because compared to the standard human marriage, ours last a whole lot longer.” He pulled his shirt over his head, poked his arms through the sleeves, then pulled it down over his yummy stomach. “Life span, you know. And there is no such thing as divorce. So you can see why we must make sure we don’t make any hasty decisions.”

  “Okay,” she drawled, fastening her bra. “You did mention something along those lines earlier but you didn’t give me any details.”

  “You’ll get more details if they are required. As I said, we may only take this first step. It will counter his venom without binding either of us in a relationship we aren’t ready for. I have no need to go further.”

  She pulled on her shirt, then pants. “Then neither do I. Sex, eh? That’s all it took? I mean, that was amazing. Incredible. Out of this world. But it’ll protect me from that other guy? So I don’t need to be afraid of becoming that other guy’s zombie and turning ax murderer? Why does this sound like some very convoluted way to get a girl into bed?”

  “It’s not. And I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “Oh, I did. You’re still hanging on to that vampire thing, are you?”

  “Yes. You’ll see I’m telling the truth. Soon enough.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means you’ll have your proof.”

  “Tell me then, I’d like to know more about you, about being a vampire.”

  “No problem. I can tell you anything you like about my clan, my life, my history. What do you want to know?”

  Sophie stared at him for a moment. What did a girl ask a guy who believed he’d lived for nearly four hundred years? Should she ask him about what it was really like living so long ago? Or for some obscure historical fact that would prove he was telling the truth? A fact she might later reveal to the world so she might win some kind of award. Unfortunately, only one question came to mind. And it wasn’t the stuff of a brilliant mind.

  She stated it anyway: “I want to hear about all those things but first I have a silly question.”

  “Silly? Okay.”

  “If you’re a real vampire, why aren’t you all dark and broody like the ones I’ve read about? In books vampires are always tortured souls.”

  “Oh yes. Broody.” He sighed and tied his shoe. “I’ve never been good at broodiness. It was the only class I failed in vampire school.”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  Ric grinned.

  Sophie stuffed her foot into her shoe and pretended to be more insulted than she felt. She liked this playful side of him. A lot. She liked the teasing, the banter. “Don’t make fun of me. I didn’t make the rules. Those other people did.”

  “Oh? What other people would that be?” he asked as he tied his other shoe.

  “The ones who wrote the vampire books. They must’ve interviewed some real vampires, right?”

  “Maybe. I kind of doubt it, though. If what you believe is any indication of what they’ve written—garlic, daylight, broodiness—they couldn’t have interviewed a member of any of the North American clans. I wonder if I contacted them, they’d appreciate my setting them straight.”

  “Your ego has to be the size of Texas.” She laughed and, for kicks, threw her other shoe at him. As she expected, he ducked and it flew into the grass behind him. She dashed past him to find it. “Stop teasing me. You know I’m right. North American vampire or whatever, you’re supposed to be tortured and brooding because you have no choice but to drink blood to survive.” She scooped up her shoe and plopped onto the blanket to put it on.

  He leaned over her, nibbled on her neck, giving her a severe case of goose bumps. “And why would that make me tortured? I happen to enjoy blood.”

  Her gaze shot to his face. He wasn’t serious, was he? She leaned away. “Eww! Because…eww! How can you say you enjoy drinking blood? Oh my God, that’s gross. Have I told you that blood makes me sick? I can’t stand to look at even a drop.”

  “It’s easy to say. I enjoy drinking blood.” He traced a warm, wet line down the column of her neck, whispering, “It’s sweeter than the finest dessert, more satisfying than any food you could ever consume.” He nibbled her collarbone. “You have no idea what you’re missing.”

  She shivered because he was driving her crazy. She shuddered because he was making her sick. She scrunched up her shoulder and shook her head because she didn’t know what to do about either. “No way. Can’t be better than ice cream—nothing is. Don’t you miss ice cream? And cake? And chocolate? Then again, if you were alive back in the sixteen hundreds, maybe they didn’t have those things back then?”

  He answered with a lifted brow.

  “There you go. You don’t know what you’re missing. I know I wouldn’t want to live without my Ben & Jerry’s. I’d be positively miserable being on a perpetual liquid diet.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you aren’t one of my clan.” Ric took her hand in his and kissed each fingertip, one at a time. It was such a sweet gesture, such a sexy one too. Sophie reconsidered her stand on leaving right away. “Me. Personally, I find a human’s diet disgusting. Think about it for a moment. You consume rotted animal flesh for sustenance.”

  That
made the little tinglies halt midtingle. “Now you’re just getting sick. And to think that a second ago, you almost had me convinced to frolic some more. But not anymore. No way. The mood is gone after that comment. Animal flesh. You’re serious? You’d rather bite some poor, unsuspecting person and drain them of their life’s blood than eat a little chicken?”

  “Yes, but it’s not sick and it’s not gross. Why can’t you see that? I don’t kill when I feed. My…er, donors…give more blood when they go to a blood bank. In contrast…what did you eat for dinner?”

  “A hamburger.”

  “Animal flesh,” he said, with a smug nod. “And the cow didn’t walk to the back pasture for a snack after he donated.”

  “That’s assuming the fast-food joint I bought it from used real meat. You never know. Besides, it’s not rotted. At least it’d better not be! So, if you’re a real vampire, put on the dark, tortured hero face and quit looking so gosh darned happy,” she joked, actually kind of seeing his point. Maybe it wasn’t as gross as she thought.

  For that retort, she was gently pushed back onto the ground and kissed to heaven and back.

  She had to give him one thing: this so-called vampire knew what to do with that mouth of his, not to mention a few other parts.

  And that made her happy. Very happy.

  Ric stared down at Sophie, his heart slightly tight at the thought of what he was about to do. This was the only way he knew to protect her, yet he knew there were risks. The kind of risks he didn’t like to take without good cause.

  Her trust in him warmed his cold heart until he almost felt complete. To imagine losing that—it was already too painful to consider.

  “I must do one final thing before we can leave,” he whispered, watching her eyes for fear.

  Her trust continued to pour into him through his fingertips. Like warm water fed into his veins, it trickled up his arms until it filled his chest. “Oh, okay. Well, whatever it is, I’ll just be over here waiting. I promise I won’t watch.”

  “No. Not that.” He laughed. “We vampires don’t have to do those sorts of things.”

  “Oh. Okay. Then what is it?”

  “This…” He lifted her top and kissed her stomach. He unfastened her pants, pushed them out of his way and licked and nibbled his way down toward the junction of her thighs, then continued the trail over one hip. “There will be pain, but only a moment.”

  “Pain?” She stiffened under him.

  He sensed her panic and lifted his head to meet her gaze. “Nothing more than a pinprick.”

  “Are you going to bite me? For real?”

  “Yes, for real.” He smiled, displaying his lengthening canines.

  Her eyes widened. “Oh! Wow! You weren’t kidding, were you? You are a real vampire. Aw, man. And here I’d sworn off vampires after the last time. I told you, I didn’t like it. Will it feel like it did with that other vampire?”

  “Hopefully better.” Her reference to the other one, the one who had left his mark on her, left a very sour taste in his mouth. A taste that only the flavor of her blood, of her sweet essence, would kill.

  “Okay,” she said on a sigh. She covered her face with her hands, her body tight under his touch.

  “This is the only way.”

  “I believe you. Although I would’ve preferred it if just having nookie had taken care of it.”

  “Me too.” He held her gaze for a moment, then glanced down at her hip. His tongue, eager for the first taste, moistened his dry lips. Yet, even though his body hungered for her, he hesitated, knowing that the other’s venom—if powerful enough—could kill him. He hoped she’d attracted a lesser bloodline. Something that would give him little trouble. He knew with the first swallow the other’s bloodline would be revealed.

  His jaw ached as his teeth finished elongating into their necessary length. When they were in position, he moistened her skin with his tongue, eased his fingers between her thighs to stroke her folds, and when she shuddered, on the brink of orgasm, he bit into her skin.

  Her blood was sweeter than any he’d ever tasted. It flowed down his throat, but there the pleasure ended and the agony began. It was like swallowing a great ball of fire. It seared his insides, each swallow increasing the torture. Even so, he forced himself to keep drinking until trembling he nearly collapsed on the ground. Sophie lay below him, writhing in pleasure, her fingers tangled in his hair, the scent of her passion filling his nostrils. His name came from her parted lips just before she fell into a deep sleep.

  He had his answer now. Sophie had found an Ancient One. That was both good and bad. Good because the venom wouldn’t destroy him—though it would make him suffer for several hours. Bad because it was extremely difficult to counteract. Sophie would need several doses of Ric’s venom to protect her from the Ancient One. And if the Ancient One returned to her and injected her with more, there was a good chance he would lose her to him.

  He had to protect her, whatever it took. Even if she could never be his in all ways, he owed her that much for giving him what she had already.

  Chapter 8

  “Wake up, sweet thing. We’re here.”

  Completely disoriented, like when she’d woken up from shoulder surgery a few years back, Sophie blinked open her eyes. She hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. Didn’t recall dreaming. Didn’t remember anything after their little roll in the grass. It was a very strange feeling. “Where are we?” Her voice sounded rough, gravelly, like she’d swallowed a bucket of crushed glass.

  “The parking lot of our hotel on the east side of Grand Rapids. I’ve already checked us in, so we can go straight to the room. Here. Let me help you.” Ric took her elbow and gently eased her to her feet.

  Her legs felt boneless, soft and wobbly, her head swimmy. She clung to a very strong, thick arm for support as she half walked, half stumbled inside the hotel. Even though her eyeballs bobbed around in her head like beach balls on the surf, she caught the occasional curious stare as she struggled to walk without looking like she’d downed a fifth of tequila. “What’s wrong with me? I feel awful.”

  “Probably a combination of things. You’ll feel better in the morning.” He slid the card into the lock, then opened the door, and still supporting her with one arm, he flipped on the lights with his free hand. “There you are.” He walked her to the bed and then turned to head for the door. “Be right back with your luggage.”

  “Okay.” Afraid to try her rubber legs, she stayed put while she waited for him to return. Thanks to a severe case of hotel room jitters—she always got nervous in hotels, even when she wasn’t visiting one with a man who made almost every vital organ in her body stop—she was restless but lacked the strength to pace properly. Instead, she was forced to sit and pick nervously at a thread that had pulled loose from the hem of her top.

  Ric returned a few minutes later with both her suitcases. He set them on the bed, unzipped the bigger one, and started rummaging through its contents.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, feeling a little invaded. No man—no matter how sexy, or adorable, or scrumptious, look at that tush!—had any business digging through her stuff, not that she had anything to hide. It was a matter of principle.

  “Helping you get ready for bed,” he said, shuffling through her undies. He inspected one piece with particular interest.

  Her cheeks the temperature of asphalt on a July afternoon in Arizona, she yanked the black lace garment out of his fist and wadded it up. “I can dress myself. Thanks.” She scooted to the suitcase, her head feeling like it was full of water, sloshing this way and that, and pulled out her cute matching shorts set. When he went for the red panties sitting on top, she gave him a warning glare. “Don’t even think about it, buddy. Beat it, so I can get dressed without dying from embarrassment.”

  He leaned close. So close his breath warmed her neck. He whispered, “Did you forget? I already saw you naked.” Looking quite pleased, he nodded.

  “Yeah, in dim moonlight. Not t
he glaring light of three hundred–watt incandescent bulbs that’ll illuminate every lump on my rear end like a freaking spotlight.” She jabbed a finger at the nearby lamp.

  “I happen to like your rear end. Lumps or not.” He gave her a playful eyebrow waggle, then a wink. “Please. I need to help you. I’m not trying to get in your pants again…well, maybe I am a little bit. But I’m trying to do the heroic thing here and help you out. What kind of guy would I be to leave you to struggle by yourself?”

  “A polite one?”

  He snatched the red panties when she wasn’t ready to stop him and unfolded them. “But I can turn off the light if you insist—”

  She lunged for the underwear in his hands but missed when he raised his hand a split second before she could catch them. Then, figuring her only hope of retrieving them was if she could catch him off guard like he’d done to her, she feigned disinterest. “Besides, why should I have to struggle to get dressed? I think I can manage on my own, thank you. Been dressing myself for twenty-some odd years now.”

  He glanced down at the suitcase, presumably to return the panties, but instead finding the matching bra. “But you don’t understand—”

  This time she was successful, caught him red-handed, one full of red panties, one full of red bra. She reclaimed both, ignoring his protests. “What is your deal? Are we sharing this room? Are you just trying to find a way to tell me you decided that now that we’ve slept together, you don’t want to pay for a second room?”

  “No. I’m next door.”

  “Oh. Okay. Then leave. Please. My head hurts. My stomach hurts. And I’m getting dizzy from playing monkey in the middle with my underwear.”

  “Fine. I’ll leave. But if you need anything, please call. My room number’s one-fifteen. Or you can just shout loud in this general direction and I’ll hear you.” He pointed at the wall.