License to Bite

by Carrie Pulkinen

  “I…” This woman never ceased to amaze him. “I love it. Thank you.”

  “There’s more,” she sang as she took his hand and led him down the hall to the master bedroom. “Your twenty-five-year-old mattress was full of dust, so I bought you a new one. The sheets were toast too, so I got a new set. Emerald to match your eyes. If you don’t like it, I can have Sophie return it tomorrow.”

  “It’s perfect.” It seemed his initial impression of Jane had been all wrong. She wasn’t the selfish, entitled princess he’d originally pegged her for. She was thoughtful, and while she still talked way too much, he’d grown fond of the sound of her voice and the little blast of electricity he felt every time she touched him.

  “Oh. My. Goat cheese.” She parked her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “You’re smiling.”

  “I am not.” He tried to flatten his lips into a neutral expression, but it was no use. The woman had gotten to him.

  “Yes, you are.” Her grin could have burned the entire coven to ash. “Does this mean brooding Edward is gone for good, and Ethan is here to stay?”

  He chuckled. “I’m not making any promises.”

  “I hope you’ll find reasons to smile more often. It looks good on you.” She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, and that hollow spot in his chest that had been there since he removed the mating mark started to ache.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him to the next room. “I know I get on your nerves, and since you’re not allowed to get rid of me during waking hours…” She pushed open the door to reveal a queen-sized bed with a deep purple duvet. “I figured I’d give you a little space at bedtime at least.”

  “But that’s the only time you’re tolerable.” He winked.

  She flipped her hair behind her shoulders. “I’m growing on you. Admit it.”

  “Maybe a little.” Or a lot. He was getting used to having her around, that was for sure. There hadn’t been a dull moment since he turned her.

  Her face went serious. “So, this meeting with the Council tomorrow. Are we in trouble?”

  “I honestly have no idea, but it’s probably best if you let me do the talking.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he lifted a finger to quiet her…and it actually worked. “Stay silent in the beginning, until we see what the issue is. Once they’ve said their piece, then you can turn on your charm, okay?”

  She nodded. “Deal. Well, I can feel that the sun will be up soon. We better get some rest.”

  He stilled, opening his senses to the atmosphere. Sunrise wasn’t for another half-hour, but young vampires could barely keep their eyes open during early daylight hours. She’d be dragged down into the death sleep shortly after morning broke.

  Moving toward her, he opened his arms, and she stepped into them as if she belonged in his embrace. “Thank you, Jane.”

  She hugged him tightly and stepped away, a look of uncertainty clouding her eyes. “You’re welcome. See you tomorrow.” Slipping inside the bedroom, she closed the door, leaving him alone in the hall.

  Alone. It was all he’d wanted since the night she woke up as a vampire, but now that his treasured silence had returned, it was deafening.

  He shuffled to his bedroom and stripped down to his boxer briefs, something he hadn’t been able to do since he met Jane. Lifting the blanket, he slid beneath the sheets and stared at the ceiling fan hanging stagnant above him.

  Ten minutes later, a soft knock sounded, and Jane hesitated in his doorway. She wore pale pink flannel boxer shorts and a cream-colored tank top nearly the same color as her skin.

  He rose onto his elbows. “Something wrong, princess?”

  She bit her bottom lip and padded to the foot of the bed. “This whole being dead to the world thing is scary alone. I’ve never done it without you.”

  The vulnerability in her eyes nearly tore him two. So Jane Anderson wasn’t invincible after all. He pulled the sheets down. “Want to join me?”

  “Do you mind?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to falling asleep with you too. Though I better warn you, I’m only wearing my underwear.”

  A tiny smile tilted her lips. “I promise to behave myself.” She hopped into bed and snuggled under the covers, turning on her side to face him. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  He rolled over to face her. “Ask me anything.”

  “How did Vanessa die?”

  He closed his eyes and chewed the inside of his cheek. Why did she have to bring up his past when he was just starting to enjoy the present? He tried to roll onto his back, but she caught his hand, clutching it tightly in hers.

  “Don’t shut down on me. Please, I want to know you.”

  With a long exhale, he opened his eyes and met her pleading gaze. “It was my fault. I killed her.”

  Her mouth dropped open, horrified. “Did you drain her?”

  “No. It happened before I was turned. We got in an argument, and…” He shook his head. She didn’t really want to hear this.

  She took his other hand, lacing their fingers together. “What happened? What was the argument about?”

  “It was Halloween. She wanted me to go to this costume party with her dressed as a Thing One and Thing Two. Blue wigs and all. It was a couple’s costume, but I refused to wear it. It was ridiculous, and I don’t do costumes to begin with, but I… I should have. I should have just worn the damn thing.”

  She scooted closer until their arms touched from hands to elbows. “You don’t strike me as a costume-wearing kind of man.”

  “I told her the only way I’d go to the party was without the costume. She agreed, but we argued the whole time. We started doing shots, trying to outdrink each other.” His jaw clenched. “It was so stupid. I don’t know what we were thinking. What I was thinking.”

  “Did you have to Uber home?”

  “Uber didn’t exist back then. When it was time to leave, she insisted on driving. I should have taken the keys, called a taxi, or… My tolerance was so much higher than hers, but I was so sick of fighting, I let her get behind the wheel.” His gaze lost focus, and he stared blankly at their entwined hands. “We ran off the road and hit a tree. I survived. She didn’t.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “If I’d made her let me drive. Hell, if I’d worn the stupid costume, it wouldn’t have happened. She would still be alive.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe if you’d driven, you’d both be dead now. You don’t know.”

  “Death would be better than the past twenty-five years of my life,” he mumbled.

  “Don’t say that. You don’t mean that.” She tightened her grip on his hands. “Alcohol messes with your head, believe me. You both made bad decisions, but you couldn’t have known what would happen. You can’t keep beating yourself up for a past you can’t change.”

  “I know. Believe me, I’ve thought about it for twenty-five years, but it’s easier to hate myself for it. I haven’t let myself really live since she died.” He met her gaze. “Until now.”

  “It’s been long enough, don’t you think? Don’t you want to move on? Let it go?”

  “I do. I am trying. I just haven’t had anything to live for until now.”

  She pressed her lips together, lowering her gaze, not taking the hint, not hearing what he wasn’t able to say. “I know you wanted me to be Vanessa. I’m sorry I’m not her.”

  “I’m not.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “Sometimes, the things we want aren’t the same as what we need. I’m glad you’re you, Jane Anderson. You are exactly what I need.”

  “Aren’t you sweet?” She leaned toward him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  His heart thumped, and she lingered there, slowly pulling back, her nose gliding along his skin until her lips were a scant half-inch from his mouth. Her gaze flicked to his, and she swallowed hard, hesitating as if asking his permission.

  He tilted his head, brushing his bottom lip against her top, and that was al
l the invitation she needed. Reaching a hand to his face, she crushed her mouth to his. It had been so long since he’d kissed a woman, he was afraid he’d forget what to do, but the moment Jane’s tongue slipped between his lips, it all came back to him.

  His fangs extended, a normal reaction to sexual attraction—or so Gaston had assured him—and his dick hardened like a steel rod. Jane moaned, gripping the back of his head to tug him closer, but then she pulled away, gasping as if she’d lost her breath.

  “It’s morning.” She touched her lips with trembling fingers. “I can’t stay awake.”

  “Then go to sleep, princess. I’ll be here.”

  She smiled, and, brushing one more gentle kiss to his lips, she rolled over, snuggling her back against his front, his rock-hard dick pressing against her ass. “Oh, my. I’m sorry I’m going to miss out on that.”

  He chuckled. “You’re not the only one. Sweet dreams, sweet Jane.”

  She yawned. “See ya later, alligator.” Then she went still as a corpse, the death sleep overtaking her.

  Chapter Ten

  Ethan sat on the sofa, staring at the blank TV screen while last night’s kiss played on a loop in his mind. He’d been awake for nearly an hour before Jane began to stir, but he’d only allowed himself to remain by her side for ten minutes before he rose and dressed for the evening.

  He’d caught a glimpse of her scurrying down the hall to the shower, but she hadn’t emerged from her bedroom since she entered it half an hour ago.

  Her Styrofoam cup, filled with blood, sat on the coffee table, and as footsteps sounded from the hallway, Ethan rose to his feet.

  She appeared in the living room wearing black leggings and a long, burgundy sweater with a deep V-neck that revealed the delicate curve of her neck and the sweet swell of her breasts. She looked good enough to eat.

  “Good morning…er…evening, I guess.” She tousled her dark hair and smiled softly. “Sleep well?”

  “Like the dead.” He offered her the cup. “Breakfast?”

  “Thanks.” She shuffled into the living room and took the cup from his hand. Pausing, she grimaced and stared at the straw. “I know I need this, but my mind won’t let me.”

  He knew the feeling. “Pretend it’s vodka and tomato juice. Your miracle cure.”

  She chuckled and lifted the cup in a toast. “Breakfast of champions.” Pressing the straw to her lips, she took a quick sip, which turned into a huge gulp, and within seconds, she’d downed the entire contents. “Damn, that’s good.”

  His tongue slipped out to moisten his lips against his will, and her gaze flicked to his mouth.

  “Listen…about last night.” She set the cup on the table. “I’m sorry?”

  He cocked his head. “Why did you say it like a question?”

  She shrugged. “I guess because I’m really not. But it seemed like the thing to say in a situation like this.”

  “What situation?”

  “I don’t know.” She flung her arms in the air and dropped them at her sides. “Why are you making this hard on me? We kissed last night, and now we have to talk about it, right? That’s how these things go.”

  He fought a grin. She was adorable when she was flustered. “So, you’re not sorry you kissed me?”

  She crossed her arms, cocking a brow. “That depends on how you feel about it.”

  “I enjoyed it, personally. Quite a lot, actually.”

  She giggled and glanced at his pants. “I remember. Vlad wanted to come out and play.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but as her words sank in, he paused. “Did you just name my dick Vlad?”

  “It’s fitting. If the death sleep hadn’t pulled me under, I might have let him impale me.”

  He shook his head, a deep chuckle vibrating in his chest. “Oh, Jane. What am I going to do with you?”

  “I can think of a few things.” She bit her lip and gazed at him for a moment. “We’re still cool then? Things aren’t going to get awkward now?”

  “I really hope not.”

  “Then why do you still look worried?” She pointed at his face. “Your brow is pinched, and you keep clenching and unclenching your fists.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. Damn, this woman was perceptive.

  “Are you worried about the Council?”

  “I am. The only reason I can think that they would call us back would be about your biter’s license. We haven’t done anything illegal…that I’m aware of.”

  She raised her hands. “Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t left your side since I died.” She chewed her bottom lip, her face scrunching the way it always did when she was deep in thought. “Do you trust me, Ethan?”

  “Of course.” His answer came without hesitation, taking him by surprise. He did trust Jane. With every fiber of his being.

  She smiled. “I trust you too. So get the Council warmed up, get them to give me permission to speak.” She stuck her finger in her mouth, making a gagging motion. “Then I’ll handle it from there. My ability to schmooze will amaze you.”

  “If you try to use even a smidge of glamour on them, they’ll sense it. Using glamour against the Council is punishable by stake.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Cheese and crackers, everything is punishable by stake with you guys. You need a woman on the Council. That’s what you need. How do you get elected? I’ll make a run for it, and being a vampire will be fun again.”

  He chuckled. “You have to be at least fifty years dead to even be considered.”

  “Damn. Well, it’s never too early to start campaigning.”

  Ethan rolled his neck, attempting to stretch the tension from his shoulders, but as soon as he stopped, they crept back toward his ears. He sat on the sofa in the sitting-room of the coven’s headquarters, holding on to Jane’s hand as if she were his lifeline. If he’d done something to get her into trouble, he’d never forgive himself.

  “Relax.” She put her free hand on top of his. “We’ve got this.”

  “You underestimate the power and temperament of the Council.”

  “You underestimate the power and temperament of Jane Anderson. We’re going to be fine.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I got you to smile yesterday. That in itself is a feat worthy of recognition.”

  The door creaked open, and Jeffrey, a squat man with blond hair and a bushy mustache, stepped through. “You may enter.”

  Ethan’s heart crept into his throat. His entire death, he’d kept his head down, stayed out of politics, and minded his own business. He rarely socialized with anyone, including other vampires, and he’d managed to stay out of trouble because of it. Until Jane, he’d only been summoned to the Council twice—once to get his biter’s permit, and then again for his license.

  He’d heard stories of vampires who’d been randomly called before the Council, and holy Satan’s balls, he hoped they were only stories.

  With Jane’s hand clutched tightly in his, they crept down the hallway and entered the Council’s chamber. All five members donned their robes and sat perched atop their thrones. Off to the side, Watson, the British constable, sat in his own ornate chair, like a little kid’s version of a throne. Who did this guy think he was?

  “What’s with the man-child?” Jane’s voice echoed in his head.

  “I think he wants the Magistrate’s job. How did you send me your thoughts? I haven’t taught you to do that.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “I’m full of surprises.”

  “That you are.”

  “There’s that smile, again. It really does look good on you.”

  They stopped in the center of the room, and Ethan lowered his head in a bow, squeezing Jane’s hand to remind her to do the same. Thankfully, she followed his lead. The Magistrate shuffled through a stack of papers as if he’d lost the one he needed.

  “They don’t have their files digitized?” Jane’s voice drifted through his mind.

  “I told you they’re
old school here. Now stop thought-talking before you get us both staked.”

  She laughed softly. “I can’t wait to shake things up in this place.”

  “Ethan Devereaux,” the Magistrate’s voice boomed.

  He swallowed, willing his heart to dislodge from his throat and settle in his chest where it belonged. “Yes, Your Honor?”

  “It has come to my attention that your recently-turned subject belongs to the Governor of Texas.”

  Jane opened her mouth, sucking in a breath to protest the Magistrate’s use of the word “belong,” Ethan assumed. He squeezed her hand and sent her a mental message: “Let it go, Elsa.” She pursed her lips.

  “She is the Governor’s daughter, Your Honor. A fact I was unaware of at the time.” His heart willingly fell from his throat, plopping into his stomach. That’s what this summoning was about? That Ethan turned someone of high importance, so now he was in trouble?

  Constable Watson wiggled in his chair like an overly excited puppy. The bastard probably carried pickets inside his trench coat just in case he got the chance to stake someone.

  “Turning people in her position of power is…” The Magistrate glanced at Watson. “It’s frowned upon.”

  The constable shot to his feet. “The Supernatural World Order has decreed it can’t be done without filing the proper paperwork first. You’ve committed a crime, Mr. Devereaux. It’s time to pay the price.” He brushed back his jacket, and sure enough, a set of stakes were attached to the underside.

  “Now hold on a second.” Jane slipped from his grasp and strutted forward. “He saved my life; how can that be considered a crime? Don’t y’all have some kind of Good Samaritan law or something?” She glared at Watson.

  “Calm down, or we’ll both be staked.”

  She glanced at Ethan. “Neither one of us is getting staked on my watch.”

  The Magistrate scanned Jane’s registration papers. “She has a good point.” He passed them down the line of Council members. “She’d been struck by a car and would have died otherwise.”

  The men murmured amongst themselves, and Ethan wished it mattered that he held his breath. The pain in his chest would have been a nice distraction from his impending death.