by Mandy Rosko
She must have felt the change because she pulled her lips away when he finished, though their faces stayed close. "I love you too." She burst out laughing. "Oh my God, I love you!"
He forcefully pulled her mouth to his again. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and the blanket fell away from her. They pulled apart and both bent down to grab it, still laughing like giddy teenagers, and he wrapped it snuggly around her again, tucking a few strands of her hair out of her face and behind her ear.
"Does this mean you're not going to use the excuse that we can't be together because it's unprofessional?"
A silent laugh shook the top of his chest. "No."
"Good." She leaned in so that he could hold her again.
"It's snowing. Heavy," he said, watching the police working through the falling cotton balls. No one approached and asked them to answer questions. He figured he owed Carter for that.
"I know. I think it's kind of romantic."
They were outside the house she’d been held hostage in, where numerous people had died. "What's so romantic about it?"
She looked him in the eye. "What's not romantic about kissing in the snow?"
He shrugged. "Alright, Gorgeous. It has its appeal."
She leaned back into him, content with his answer. "See? That wasn't so hard."
He felt her emotions shift, and the change startled him considering their happy reunion a few seconds ago. "What's wrong?"
She chewed her bottom lip. "I know you can't be cured."
He shook his head, knowing her guilt stemmed from the fact that her own sister was the one to lay the curse on him. "Don't worry about that. As long as I'm going to bed with you every night then it hardly matters, doesn't it?"
She breathed a sigh, as though he’d just lifted a heavy weight from her shoulders.
God, he wanted her. “How’s your shoulder?”
She shrugged the injured side easily. “A paramedic gave me some new bandages and painkillers. I feel pretty good.”
"Good, because right now I just need to take you home and have you to myself. No hospitals, police, or mothers."
She gave him a wicked grin. "By all means, don't let me stop you."
***
The door to her apartment slammed open and Kyle rushed blindly into the dark space with his package in his arms, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
Though she’d claimed her shoulder was fine, he didn’t want to risk it by running into a wall. Awkwardly, he carried her down the hall and towards her room, her fingers threaded his hair as she sighed in his mouth.
He opened his eyes long enough to punch open her door, not bothering to kick it shut behind him as he all but fell onto the bed with her beneath him.
She gasped, and his heart stopped. “Are you hurt.”
She laughed. “That’s so exciting. I can’t believe you carried me all the way in here!”
Not hurt then. Somehow, the fact that he’d scared himself got him laughing too. He'd never laughed in bed with anyone before, and he couldn't wait to find out what other firsts a true relationship with his soul mate could offer.
Soul mate.
That's what she was. And she was his. Tonight he'd make sure of it.
He lifted her shirt above her head and threw it away. He didn't bother with her bra yet. He massaged her breast through the material. It was a lacy little thing, not padded that would dull the sensation of his hand, and she arched tight like a bow.
He wanted to give her only a taste of what he could do for her. He wanted her to beg him for it.
***
"You're such a tease." She puffed, glaring through the fog of lust. She didn't want him to touch her through her bra, she wanted his skin on hers, his hands on her breasts doing exactly what he was doing now.
She grabbed his hand and tried to force him to do just that but he pulled away.
He waved a finger at her. "Ah, ah."
"Tease," she said again.
"My poor girl." He purred, though his purr abruptly stopped when she lifted her knee between his legs. His eyes widened and body stiffened in mild panic before she rubbed her leg gently up and down that spot.
Though she had yet to get her glasses back they were close enough that she could watch his eyes slide shut as he sucked in a breath. That was so hot.
His fists clenched in her sheets and she smiled before stopping.
"Teasing isn't very nice, is it?" She asked.
He struggled with his belt. "You're right. What was I thinking?"
She helped him out of it and shoved her hands down his jeans to help ease them off of his hips. The boxers were the only things left that separated them.
She leaned back against the bed and, with as much force as possible without hurting herself, pulled her belt out of the loops in her jeans, threw it away, and tugged her own pants down her hips. He didn’t help, he just watched her do it with an indecent smile.
"You really are gorgeous, Gorgeous."
For once, she didn't bother thinking twice about his choice in nickname.
She helped him to remove the remainder of his clothes with clumsy speed. He didn't bother with her bra hook. He lifted the whole thing above her head, still carefully avoiding the bandages at her shoulder, and threw it away with her belt. The proof of just how excited he was to have her stood proudly between his legs, thick and leaking, she ached to have him. To have the pulsing inside her eased by that.
She never ached to have any man before in her life. The realization made what she was about to do all the more exciting.
Kyle rested his hand on her knee, slid it down to her thigh, parting her legs and allowing him entrance.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He rasped.
Jackie thought back to all the erotic thoughts he sent her since they met, and she grinned and kissed him. “I do.”
She locked eyes with him and kept them there when he hit home.
***
Jackie leaned into Kyle's shoulder as they walked down the porch steps of Kyle's mother's house. Tom had also been there and very friendly to his new sister-in-law.
Meeting the woman who was able to let Kyle live a normal life without the worry of having him sucking at someone's neck had been a big deal to Kyle’s family. Though, since his mother didn’t know why Kyle left town to begin with up until a few days ago, the fact that vampires even existed was still a shock to her system.
Still, she took it well.
Jackie sighed heavily. "I'm so glad that's over."
"Thanks." He nudged her.
She nudged him back. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be, but I was still nervous. Your mom and brother are really nice."
He nodded, back straight and posture perfect. "As I said they would be. Mom really likes you, but now she's trying to convince me that you and I should move out of Griffon City and be closer to her."
"It's not that long of a commute." Jackie said without thinking.
She stopped herself and looked up at him. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”
He kissed her hair. "Don't worry. I think it's better if I stay in the city where no one will look twice at me at night for having overly long canines. I can’t exactly open up my own agency in New York and expect to be home every night before dark."
She threaded her fingers through his. It was true. He couldn't open his agency in a normal city and expect people not to look at him sideways if his fangs poked out when she couldn't lock lips with him. But, because of the help he provided to Mike, his agency, the one he already opened and the first one in Griffon City, would be amazing.
She grabbed his chin and turned him to face her. Despite her ability to ease his curse, she couldn’t ease the pain of being away from his family. "We'll just have to make sure that it doesn't happen so much."
His smile touched his eyes. "Whatever you say, Gorgeous."
They got into Kyle’s truck, and he waited a beat before starting the engine. “So, I know your mother’s st
ill giving you the special treatment. Want to head back home or stay and see more of the city?”
Jackie rolled her eyes up and tapped her chin playfully before pulling out her notebook from her purse. There was always something interesting to write about in New York, especially with her guide, who also happened to be her vampire mate. “I think I’ll hang around with you for a little while longer.”
THE END
Thank you for reading The Vampire's Curse! If you enjoyed the story and think other people would too, please share your opinion by posting a review at the ebook store where you purchased it. :)
Here is the first chapter from the (currently unedited) sequel to The Vampire's Curse, featuring Mike Carter and Anne Hart coming soon to your ebook retailer!
ONE
A small bar in California
Mike tilted his head back, swallowed the last of his whiskey, and contemplated getting back in his car, turning around and going home while he was still sober enough to drive.
He looked at the clock, then called to the bartender and ordered another. Fuck it, he'd get a room and sleep before getting on the road again. He kind of wanted to get drunk anyway. Anything to put off the visit to his family’s new ranch.
He couldn't even remember the name of the town he'd stopped in. Did he even see a welcome sign?
Alcohol did that to him. Blurred everything. Which was exactly how he wanted it.
Mike took some much needed vacation time and left Griffon City. He hadn’t planned to make the trip to California to visit his family until after the woman he loved had settled down with someone else.
He hoped Jackie was enjoying planning her wedding to McKane.
Goddamn. Losing her stung. Though she’d promised to always be his friend and all that shit, he needed to make himself scarce for the wedding.
Watching Jackie prepare to have a family with vampire boy made Mike think about his own family.
He hadn’t seen them in years. It was time to make peace. The problem was they were the ones to kick him out.
But he was tired of having nothing. Maybe they’d welcome him home, ask for forgiveness.
If they didn’t then at least he could use them as an outlet for all the hatred and screaming he felt like exploding out into the world.
Not knowing what to expect, he stressed himself out the entire trip. Mike had seen the bar and felt his mouth go dry as though he’d dumped a bucket of salt down it. He promptly stopped.
Now, with several depressing drinks inside him and maybe an hour or so left before he reached his destination, driving the day and a half back to his empty apartment in New York seemed appealing.
Goddammit. Courageous Officer Carter, scared of facing the family that disowned him.
Mike tipped his hat up with the rim off his glass and rested his hot forehead into the cool sweat building there.
He sighed. He would go and see them. Hopefully Bud would still want to see him.
Damn, he really needed to relax. Maybe while he was here he could have a little fun. Mike lifted his head and scanned the bar.
The place was mostly empty against the slow Country playing in the background. Probably because it was a weeknight and people had to go to work in the morning. That didn't stop the patrons who were in the bar tonight from drinking up.
Of the few women in the bar, one who drank alone and appeared to be in her sixties and another who celebrated her twenty-first birthday with two of her girlfriends—though he doubted it was her first time having a drink—only one caught his eye.
Late twenties, slim with curly hair, rose-pink lips and big eyes. Nice.
The problem was that she already had the attention of two men focused solely on her.
Her thick, pale blonde hair framed her tiny body as she quietly spoke to her companions. Her voice was so low he couldn't catch what she said, her face and eyes were alight, as though she were having a passionate discussion.
Mike squinted his eyes for a better look. One of the men who nodded along intently with what she said could very well be related to her, a twin even.
His pale blond hair was cut short and gelled to spike out at the top of his forehead. Though they were both sitting, he estimated that they were of the same height. And while he wore a blue striped shirt compared to her white tank, they both sported jeans that were fading at the stress points.
The other man with them couldn't be more different. The fact that he was sitting in this bar meant he had to be of age, but was likely no older than that.
Baggy black jeans were accented with a metal chain around his waist. His spiked hair matched his blood red T-shirt, which revealed a European style red dragon tattoo on his arm.
As if sensing his eyes on her, the woman stopped talking, turned her head in movie-style slow motion, and looked directly at him.
His eyes met her blue ones. Lust shot like lightning in all the right places. Her mouth dropped at the shock of being watched. Then she smiled, revealing sexy white teeth.
He smiled back.
This was looking promising already.
Both men turned to see where her attention had gone. The one with ruby red hair glared fire at him. The blond who looked like he could be her brother, to nudge him with his elbow. It worked and the riled up kid turned his attention back to the conversation they were having with the woman.
While his head was turned, Mike caught sight of the crescent moon birthmark on the blond man's right cheek.
Werewolf.
What was a werewolf doing in this bar?
Curious, Mike attempted to dip into their thoughts. Something he tried to avoid ever since he became a psychic, but he was buzzed enough to not care so much about the ethics.
He couldn't get far into their heads. Figured.
The woman and the punk rocker kid may or may not be wolves, but they were definitely something. Rocker Kid and Twin Brother were also adamant that he stay the Hell away from the woman, he could tell that much even without seeing into their heads.
Hopes of hot, sweaty, fleshy sex shot to shit, Mike returned to his drink.
Bloodthirsty thought-waves, like someone was hungry to kill a human being and eat the corpse slithered through Mike’s head. He leapt from his chair as it exploded.
The patrons screamed, as did their chairs as the people knocked them over and swarmed to the exit, pushing against each other in an effort to squeeze out the suddenly small doors.
Mike rolled to his knees and lifted his head. Another fireball like the one that destroyed his seat flew at him like a meteor.
He rolled to the side and heard the crash before he saw the hole it blew into the counter behind him. Flaming wood splinters flew into his face like burning matches. He shielded his eyes with his arm.
He took shelter behind one of the overturned tables, put his back to it. His hand went for his gun holster and found it missing.
Oh yeah. Vacation. No weapons. Son of a bitch.
Sarcastic hate swelled inside him. "Go back to California, get away from magic and relax." He shook his head at himself, wondering how he would escape and call for help without getting killed. "Stupid."
The laughing voice of his attacker made him grit his teeth. "You will not escape me this time."
This time? "Listen pal, I don't know what your problem is but I've never seen you before in my life." In fact he had yet to see what the guy looked like at all. He was too busy getting out of the way of heavy fire.
Hopefully no one was hurt by it, but so far it seemed his attacker had eyes only for him.
Mike lifted himself enough to gaze over the table. No sign of any patrons injured or otherwise. Maybe someone called the local law enforcement. Which was good.
No sign of his attacker. Which was bad.
He had to move. There weren't many places a man could hide in such a small place, but he stayed low as he made his way back to the bar.
No sign of the suspect. Mike strained his ears but detected no sounds of footsteps. He snatched
his black Stetson from the floor and returned it to its rightful place on his head. The fact that it hadn't been burned in all the blasting was a miracle. It was his favourite hate.
The hairs of the back of his neck fizzed and stood on end.
"A thousand years and you still haven't changed."
Mike spun and launched his heavy fist at the ratty voice whispering into his ear.
And hit only air.
He unclenched his hand and stared stupidly at the empty space.
Right. The guy had magic. Mike should've seen this coming, but the ability to appear and disappear like that wasn't common.
"You must be a pretty strong guy to do magic like that." Mike called.
A long, pointed shard of wood from a bar stool sat on what was left of the bar. He picked it up and held it close, ready to use it if needed. "Must've practiced for years."
He didn't believe for a second what this psychopath said about a thousand years. Even vampires didn’t live so long. Mike had come across a few crazies in his career but none ever thought they were immortal.
"No matter how many times I kill you, you always return."
Mike spun again, holding the stake out to strike but this time the man stood well out of reach and didn't bother teleporting himself anywhere.
Now that Mike could see him he could say with complete certainty that he was not familiar with him.
The man was short, at least five, five, with thinning black hair that he gelled over his balding head. The man wore loose fitting black robes, like something out of Harry Potter. He linked his long fingers together in front of him, staring calmly as though he couldn't see all the destruction he’d caused lying around his feet.
Mike’s body remained tense, waiting for a fight. "Where did you come from?"
"As I expected, you remember nothing. You never do."
He glared and bared his teeth. "My memories are fine. Now who the Hell are you? You're attacking a Griffon City cop. The law doesn't look kindly on that."
The suspect shrugged. "Only if we are in that particular city. I was made to understand that men of the law who hail from cities that do not exist are not men of the law outside of them."