by Alex Owens
Bite Me
Blood Chord Series – Book 2
Authoralexowens.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Book Description:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Witch Me: Blood Chord #3
About Alex
Copyright Notice
Book Description:
After the business trip that ended her mortal life, Claire needs to get her freakish talents and blood-lust (and let's be honest, regular ol' lust too) under control, so that she can be a good mom and keep her fangs hidden. Thanks to her Vampire Disability Fund, life is good.
So what if two brothers (one hot, one decidedly jerkish) have moved into the only other house in her neck of the woods? And so what if she hasn't heard a peep out of her maker Bette or the other members of The Triad?
No news is good news, right? Oh, how wrong she is...
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Chapter One
“I think that guy’s a Vampire,” I muttered under my breath.
Beyond the scores of children running silly through piles of raked leaves, after the glowing pumpkins that edged the picket fence, and all the way across the street— I nodded to where a man stood beside an adorable little snaggle-toothed werewolf.
Morgan, my stripper-turned-nanny shook her head and laughed. “You think? What gave it away, the cape?”
I took another long look at the man. He was tall, pale... and dressed as a silver screen version of Dracula. Huh. I hadn’t even noticed his costume.
“No, really.” I nudged her with my elbow and nodded back to the man. “I think he’s the real deal. His teeth keep disappearing.”
Morgan popped her gum and laughed. “So what if he is? Is the town not big enough for the both of you?”
Since when did Morgan have a sarcastic bone in her perky little body? Maybe the accidental bond we’d formed in Florida was beginning to wear off? One could hope anyway.
“I’m just curious is all. I mean, the only other monsters I know are Bette, Clive and Gregor. And we all know how well that went.”
I shivered involuntarily and rubbed my naked arms, mostly out of habit. It was one of the many throwbacks to my former (read: undead) life. Like popping stolen bites of Quinn’s snacks into my mouth before I remembered my aversion to food. Or reaching for my birth control pills even. Didn’t need those any longer, that was for sure.
It was more than a habit though; the memories of my last encounter with the Triad still gave me the willies. I hadn’t forgiven Bette and Gregor for allowing Clive to feed from me. The fact that they held me down while that particular bloodsucker did his thing was even worse.
I still wasn’t sure if I could blame Bette indefinitely for how it all went down. I knew she had her reasons for doing what she did, but that didn’t make the whole episode any easier to swallow, even if she was my maker.
Morgan’s face lost the smile, probably thinking back to her own experiences at the fated conference. Namely when I’d almost sucked her dry during my first bloodlust experience. Bette had given Morgan some of my blood to help her survive until her body could replace the lost blood volume, which resulted in our unfortunate (and somewhat sexual in nature) bond.
Not one of my finest moments, that’s for sure.
Morgan sidled closer to me, like a child looking for protection, closer than what was publicly acceptable for two women in my conservative home town. I took a half-step back and tried to ease her fears.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I don’t exactly have the V-dar you know.” I shrugged my shoulders and tried to place an easy smile on my face.
The pounding of little feet grew louder and I turned to see Quinn running down the sidewalk in our direction, her ruby slippers glinting in the golden light.
“Look what I got, Mom!” She waved a saran-wrapped red orb at me. “A candy apple—homemade and everything!”
Great, I’d have to taste the stupid thing first to make sure it was safe. Food was not my friend anymore and my stomach contracted at the mere thought of the sugary confection.
I couldn’t tell my child that, though.
“Score!” I held up my hand to Quinn and she returned the high-five. “Now, if you want more candy we need to pick up the pace. Your dad is meeting us at the end of the block in ten minutes.”
That was all the motivation Quinn needed. She took off at a sprint to the next house, expertly dodging kids and parents like an itty-bitty ninja. Back when I was normal, I would have freaked out if she’d gotten that far away from me.
Now, not so much.
One of the perks of being a vamp I suppose— my tracking abilities were amazing. I could see farther, and in more detail than ever before. Also, I could hear Quinn’s voice begging for more candy despite the fact that she was a half-dozen houses ahead of us.
“He is cute, you know.” Morgan linked her arm through mine as we tried to keep up with Quinn’s trick-or-treating expedition.
“Who?” I said absentmindedly as I scanned the area for hidden dangers: too-fast cars, creepy guys hanging in the shadows, poorly-lit walkways, candy bags about to rupture— all the normal Mom worries— and of course the monsters that I now knew existed.
Morgan elbowed me and nodded up ahead. Ah, Vampire Dad.
“I don’t know how you can tell. All I can see from here is his backside. It is a nice one though. Very squeezable.”
We were snickering like two school girls when said backside stopped in his tracks, turned, and gave us a devilish grin. I swear I could see a glint in his eyes.
“Oops, busted.” Morgan said, her voice dropping low and soft as she averted her gaze to the asphalt.
If I could have blushed I would have. Instead I gave a slight nod towards the man and turned to Morgan, halting her with one hand upon her arm. “There’s no way that he should be able to hear us, not if he’s a normal guy.”
Morgan’s face clouded over again and I gave myself a mental kick in the arse for worrying her needlessly. As much as she’d become a staple in my world, her fresh-faced innocence did not belong to the same freak show that I did. And that was saying something of a former-stripper.
We resumed walking down the street. I kept one eye on Quinn and the other on the Vamp Dad with extraordinary hearing. He was fine with a capital “F” — the kind of fine that made that “I wanna do bad things to you” song loop through my head.
“Well, then it’s probably good that you don’t do normal anymore,” Morgan said with a sigh.
“My non-existent social life is not on the table tonight.” I mumbled.
Oh, Morgan, I thought. Seems the bonding wasn’t wearing off after all.
I’d tried to explain it to her a thousand times. It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to her— she was drop-dead gorgeous and I’d discovered that my tastes ran the gamut while in Florida — but we just couldn’t.
Gregor and Clive had been very explicit. They’d said so long as I did nothing to encourage the bond (i.e. Sleep with my hotter-than-hell Nanny, or feed from her) t
hen the bond would eventually fade. Until then, I just had to ignore the doe-eyed beauty’s advances.
Easier said than done after the dry spell I was working on.
“Come on,” I took Morgan’s hand, ignored the smile that bloomed on her face, and led her to the end of the block where Quinn was talking to her father.
As we approached, Pete’s eyes widened at the curious hand-holding, which was my intent.
Add that to the long-list of things I hadn’t gotten over months later: I still wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt me. I mean, come on... who ends their marriage by text message?
Pete, that’s who.
“Claire, nice costume.” Pete said through tight lips. He looked thinner than I remembered, like he’d been hitting the gym, or someone’s bed sheets, a little too often.
“I know, right!” Morgan cut in, “Doesn’t she look amazing?”
I don’t know about all of that, but I did feel pretty fierce in my Xena Warrior Princess costume. Back before the conference that ended my life, I never would have worn such an outfit. Modesty issues aside, the crisp October air would have frozen me right to death. But I hardly felt temperature changes anymore and a little skin here and there isn’t quite as bothersome as it used to be.
As a bonus, it bugged the hell out of Pete.
He flicked a glance at Morgan— I should mention she was Gabrielle to my Xena— and my heightened senses detected an instant uptick in Pete’s pulse and his pants. Predictable bastard.
I slipped a protective arm around Morgan’s waist and gave him an I-dare-you look.
He frowned and turned his attention back to Quinn, taking the five-hundred pound candy bag off her hands. “Are you ready pumpkin?”
Quinn glanced at me with eyes slightly glassy. Poor thing, she probably felt like she was hurting someone’s feelings when it was time for the custody swap, like being excited to go with one of us automatically meant that she didn’t want to stay with the other one.
I vowed to figure out a way to make things easier for her in the future.
“Yep, she’s all set. Her bag is in my car. I’m parked at the corner of Kerr and North Street— swing by and get that and you should be good to go.” I plastered a smile on my face and knelt down to give Quinn a hug. “Be good for your Dad and I’ll see you in a couple of days, okay kiddo?”
I kissed my daughter on the forehead and stood, looking Pete in the eyes. “Only a few pieces of candy before bed tonight and be sure to check it all first.”
Pete rolled his eyes and took Quinn by the hand. I fought the urge to choke him as he turned and walked away with our daughter, and I prayed that he never did anything to seriously tick me off.
Note to self: Eating the father of my child would not be a good thing.
Walking back to my car, Morgan and I remained silent as the leaves crunched under our boots. Lord knows what she was thinking about, but I was simultaneously scanning the area for Baddies and brooding over the ways in which my life sucketh as of late. So into my own misery, I didn’t even see anyone in our path until it was too late.
I ran head-first into another head, our skulls clacking like two matchbox cars on a collision course. I stumbled backwards, trying to regain my balance and failing miserably. Graceful Vampire, I was not.
“Hey!” I screeched, as hands encircled my waist and kept me from falling.
It was Vamp Dad, or Nice Butt Dad... and he was holding me at a low dip, like a dancer. His eyes glowed gold and his nostrils flared almost imperceptibly. I could see his carotid artery bounding right beneath his skin.
His tan, taught, perfectly bite-able skin.
I licked my lips, feeling the tell-tale pricks against my tongue. Shit, my fangs were beginning to show. “Thh-anks. You can let go of me now.”
And so he did.
I landed on my ass with a thud. “What the...”
Confusion flashed over Vamp Dad’s face. He looked at me on the ground, to his empty hands, and back again. “Oh, sorry. Right.”
I detected a southern accent in his flustered speech, which made him more attractive despite the fact that he’d just dropped me like a hot potato.
“Here, let me.” He extended his hand, but I ignored the gesture.
Hell, my pride and my body was wounded. I stood and brushed the leaves from my leather-clad body, shooting Morgan my best bite me look when she giggled and introduced herself.
“Hi, I’m Morgan and this is Claire.” She gave a little wave in my direction. I glared at her, but she didn’t heed my stop-being-so-friendly warning. “Don’t mind her, she gets like that when she’s... uh, hungry.”
Horny. She’d almost said horny... and of course all I could think about then was dirty monkey sex between Xena and Dracula. That conjured up all sorts of images in my overactive imagination, of course.
“Is that right? I’ve got a candy bar in my pocket if you’d like it?” The man offered, the corner of his mouth twitching into a semi-friendly smile.
Morgan nudged my arm, prompting me to fill the silence before she dissolved into juvenile giggles.
“Pity, I thought you were just happy to see me.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could snatch them back. Bugger. I blame the slutty costume, and Morgan’s big mouth, because sadly it’s the only defense I had.
The silence stretched beyond what was comfortable. Awk-ward.
Finally, mercifully, Morgan grabbed my hand and tugged me away. “Gosh, she’s really hungry. Gotta run!”
We hurried away from the delectable man-meat. Morgan clutched her stomach, doing her best to stifle the escaping laughter.
“Stake. Me. Now.” I groaned as we jogged to my car.
“I can’t believe you said that. I mean, I know you’re a freak and all, but you usually keep it hidden better than that,” she joked.
I didn’t answer her.
She was right of course—she did have firsthand knowledge of my freakish nature. She’d been right in the middle of everything the first time I’d fed, had nasty sex with Gregor (in front of several other people!) and lastly, but not the least embarrassing... Morgan had been my first up-close-and-very-personal stripper encounter.
Because of all of those things, I maintained that my days in Florida were an anomaly. Before that damned trip, I’d only had sex with two men and I’d been married to one of them for quite a while. (The other guy I’d last seen scurrying away from my parked car out of embarrassment—he’d lasted only two-stokes into my first time. Talk about a disappointing birthday present. Here’s a bit of penis, with a side of humiliation, and topped with a dollop of unfounded shame. Surprise!)
Life post-dying had become just as boring. For months I’d been living a life of quiet nunnery, so I was doing my best to pretend that everything that happened in Florida had been nothing more than a bad, bad nightmare.
We reached the car and Morgan beat me to the driver’s side. “My turn,” she squealed, sticking her tongue out at me and climbing in. I yanked the passenger door open and growled at her half-heartedly.
“Geesh, Claire.” Morgan started the car and reversed out into the road. “You really need to get laid. I haven’t seen you this uptight since you stumbled into my club looking like an uptight PTA President.”
She was right.
I sighed and watched the pumpkin-decorated houses roll by as we sped out of town. Morgan flicked on the radio and the melancholy sounds of Shinedown filled the car, letting me off the hook for serious conversation.
I couldn’t argue with her logic, but it’s not like I had men (or women... let’s be honest here) lining up at my door. The last time I’d let my freak flag fly, it had brought me a whole world of trouble. Because of that, I didn’t see myself letting my guard down anytime soon. I’d just have to take up yoga or knitting or something.
Now that made me chuckle.
Chapter Two
As we turned onto the long road leading home, I realized that I probably was cranky from lack of food, like
Morgan joked earlier. I had a modest supply of bagged blood locked safely in the basement, but in my rural neck of the woods I still hadn’t been able to ferret out a steady supply, so I tried to ration myself and “eat out” at least once per week. That put me at feeding about once every two days, but today had been day three.
I needed to keep a calendar or something. I wondered if they made an app for that. They could call it iVamp and cut you off from logging into Facebook or Pinterest until you’d had the requisite meal. I bet some tech-wiz could even install a thermal scanner for proof of feeding, since I’d noticed that my core temp peaked at least twenty degrees after I’d fed from an actual person.
I was trying to distract myself, and it wasn’t working. I’d have to feed tonight for sure.
Thankfully Quinn wasn’t going to be around, so the guilt about snacking on a live person wouldn’t be as crippling as it usually was. For some reason, it was so much harder to look her in the eyes when fresh blood pumped through my body. She’d become the reflection of innocence in my mind and I felt like a junkie when she looked at me with those big old baby blues.
As we passed the vacant house on the left-hand side of my lane, set back from the road by about ten acres, I noticed several lights on inside.
Morgan noticed it too. “Did someone buy that old place?”
“I don’t know. I hope not.” I frowned and tried to see if my vampy-eyes could pick up anyone moving around inside.
Nope, nothing.
“The whole reason I bought our house is because it was so private. No other houses around for miles besides that one, and it didn’t look in good enough shape to be livable.”
“I wonder if it’s a family with children. Maybe Quinn will have a friend nearby to play with ... or maybe it’s a smoking-hot single dude, so you can have a playmate within biting distance.” Morgan snarked and I caught a hint of jealousy leaking from her thoughts.
I reinforced my mental shields and made myself a promise to help Morgan move past her dependency on me. I needed to get her a hobby or something.
“I’d rather it be a blind, deaf hermit.” I said, “I don’t need anyone all up in my business.”