His eyes widened, and he reached for her, running his thumb along her teeth. “Your fangs are coming in.”
“Really?” She felt her mouth, and her canines extended into two tiny points. She sat up and looked in the mirror on the dresser, baring her teeth and furrowing her brow. “They’re so much smaller than yours.”
“They’re not fully grown in, but it’s a start.” He folded his hands behind his head. “They look good on you. Very sexy.”
Her stomach fluttered. “You think so?”
“I do.”
“When we were going at it, the first time you made me come, I had this incredible urge to bite you.”
Mischief sparked in his eyes. “Why didn’t you?”
“Well, for one, your dick was in my mouth at the time.”
He cringed.
“I didn’t figure you’d want me biting that.”
“Good call.”
“Is that normal? To want to bite the man I…” She almost said love, but she so wasn’t ready to go there. “The man I’m screwing?”
He chuckled. “I wanted to bite you too.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want you passing out on me. You wouldn’t have bled—vampires rarely bleed—but I was afraid even the act of biting would trigger you.”
She lay beside him. “So, if I sank my baby fangs into your shoulder, even if I broke the skin, you wouldn’t bleed?” Her mouth watered at the idea, which was beyond weird, but hey, she was a vampire. Who knew what was normal anymore?
“Do you want to try it?”
“You’d be okay with that?”
He gestured to his dick, which was hard already. “Just talking about it has gotten Vlad’s attention, so yeah. I’d be more than okay with that.”
She leaned down, softly grazing her teeth over his skin before nipping just hard enough to get a reaction out of him…and he reacted by moaning, tossing her onto her back and commencing a festival of biting and sexing that lasted until the death sleep pulled her under.
Two and a half weeks had passed since their first foray between the sheets, and Ethan couldn’t get enough of Jane. Who knew vampire sex would be so hot? He hadn’t allowed himself any form of pleasure while his guilt ate him from the inside out, but Jane… Jane had changed him. She’d changed everything.
He’d finally let go of his past and embraced his eternal death, and it was all because of the undead angel wrapped in his arms. He craved her with a ravenousness so much stronger than anything he’d ever felt. He needed her more than he needed blood.
She’d agreed to let him train her, and he’d bought the supermarket out of zucchini on more than one occasion, trying to help her learn the proper biting techniques. But her fangs hadn’t extended past the tiny pricks that formed the first time they made love, so every time she bit into a squash, she tore the flesh with her incisors. She’d cause way too much pain for her donor, and though vampire saliva had medicinal properties, the gash she’d leave on someone’s neck would require stitches to heal.
If she could just get over her aversion to blood, her fangs might fully extend. Her mind was holding her back, but he had no clue how to help her overcome it. Sophie had suggested Jane watch him feed, thinking since they enjoyed biting in the bedroom, she may enjoy watching him bite someone else.
Frankly, that made no sense at all. He also enjoyed impaling her, but hell would freeze over before he’d watch another man touch her. But he was out of options, so he tried feeding in front of her. Again, the moment his fangs met flesh, Jane either turned away, or if she witnessed the puncture, she fainted.
Feeding from a human and biting a lover during sex were in no way related. And Jane was no closer to passing her test to receive her biter’s license than she was a month ago.
Still, he couldn’t fault her. As she lay next to him, her dark hair spilling over the pillow, he ran his fingers through the silky strands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She was perfect. Exactly who he needed.
She smiled and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m getting thirsty.”
“Me too.”
“Do we have any miracle cure left in the fridge? If so, we can stay in tonight, see if Vlad wants to come out and play.”
“Mmm… As wonderful as that sounds, I’m afraid we’re out. I’ll need to at least make a run to the bank to restock.”
A pounding on the door echoed through the house a second before Gaston’s voice sliced through Ethan’s mind. “Get up, both of you. We have a problem.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He rolled out of bed and pulled on his jeans.
“That eye roll used to be reserved for me.” She sat up and scooted to the edge of the mattress. “Gaston must be up to his shenanigans again.”
Ethan slipped his shirt over his head and ran a hand through his hair. “The devil himself better be here to claim our souls, or I swear to Satan, Gaston…”
“He may be, my friend. Constable Watson’s shown up with a directive from the Supernatural World Order. Every vampire must be licensed by tonight or die.”
Chapter Twelve
“I’ll handle this. Don’t worry.” Jane patted Ethan’s hand, and while he appreciated her attempts to calm him, he’d have preferred to hightail it out of Louisiana and never come back.
“I can talk circles around that weaselly constable. By the time I’m done with him, he won’t know his fangs from his fingers. We’ve got this.”
Gaston tipped back his flask of alcohol-laced blood, draining it dry before shoving it in his jacket pocket. “I’m truly sorry I missed your previous session. I hear you were quite impressive.”
Jane straightened her shoulders. “I was on fire.”
“This, I’m afraid, is a different matter,” Gaston said. “A directive from the Supernatural World Order is binding. Even the Magistrate has extremely limited options.”
“But he does have options.”
Gaston sighed and looked at Ethan. “She’s insufferable, isn’t she?”
“She used to be.” He kissed her on the cheek, and the door swung open. Jeffrey escorted them to the Council’s chamber and closed the door, the lock sliding into place sounding like a nail in a coffin.
“Did he just lock us in?” Panic flashed in Jane’s eyes.
Now it was his turn to calm her, though his own fear was evident in the crack of his voice. “It’s…normal, right, Gaston?”
Gaston opened his mouth and touched his tongue to a fully extended fang. “Completely.”
Constable Watson had dragged his baby throne from the side of the room to sit in line with the Council, and his beady eyes gleamed as he flashed a shit-eating grin. The Council members sat utterly still, their black robes engulfing their frames, and Ethan could finally see why Jane found them so amusing the first time she came in. The whole lot of them looked as if they’d stepped off an eighties B horror movie set.
His lips betrayed him, curving into an amused smile as they stopped in the center of the room to address the Council. Watson narrowed his eyes, obviously annoyed at the fear he failed to strike, and rose to his feet.
He unrolled a scroll—a fucking scroll…who still used those?—and read in a haughty voice. “The World Order of Supernatural Relations hereby decrees that all vampires within a one-hundred-mile radius of any populated city must be licensed to bite by seven p.m. this evening, or they will face the stake.” He pulled a watch from his breast pocket. “Oh, look at the time. It’s seven-thirty.”
“What? No!” Jane stepped forward, addressing the Magistrate. “Sir, I have three days left. You gave me an extension. He can’t do this. You’re in charge here.”
“Laws are laws, and this comes from the SWO.” Watson rolled up the scroll and set it in his chair. “The Magistrate has no power in this case.”
“Of course he does. He rules Louisiana,” Jane said. “You’re just a grunt. A messenger for the Order.”
“Surely there’s something you can do,
Your Honor.” Ethan stepped beside Jane. “She’s a valuable asset.” “Precious,” he added in Jane’s mind, and she took his hand.
The Magistrate straightened, emboldened by their ego stroking, and turned to Watson. “I’ve read the directive, and I am well aware of my rights and jurisdiction.” He turned to Jane. “Unfortunately, Ms. Anderson, my rights are very limited in this instance. I can grant you a one-hour extension. Find a donor, properly glamour them and bring them here for your biting test. Pass it, and you will be licensed and legal.”
Jane’s mouth hung open, and Ethan’s posture deflated along with his hope. The glamour she might be able to pull off, but her tiny fangs would never get her through the biting test, even if she could manage to stay conscious through the ordeal.
She would never pass that test, and he couldn’t live a single day without her. “Stake me instead.”
“Are you crazy?” She whirled to face him. “You’re not taking the punishment for my limitations.”
He pulled from her grasp and stepped toward the Council. “Sir, if you keep her under your care as one of your own, surely the license won’t be an issue. It’s not her fault I turned her against her will. She shouldn’t suffer for my sins.”
“Keep me as one of his own? Like a slave? Oh, hell no. That’s not happening.”
The Magistrate steepled his fingers. “It is within my right to take a servant, whom I can do with as I please.”
Jane paled.
The Magistrate continued, “Of course, Ms. Anderson, I have no interest in women sexually, but you’d make a fine business associate.” He frowned at Ethan. “I rather liked you, Mr. Devereaux, but we do need to send a message that things like this won’t go unpunished.”
He swallowed hard. “I understand, sir.”
Gaston, standing off to the side, hung his head.
“No, no, no. Nobody’s getting staked.” Jane held up her hands. “When does my hour start?”
“Jane.” Ethan reached toward her but let his hand fall to his side. “You can’t pass that test.”
She straightened her spine and shook a finger at him. “I love you, Ethan Devereaux, but don’t you ever tell me what I can’t do.”
His heart swelled, feeling as if it burst in his chest. “You love me?”
“Well, duh.”
Jane strutted up Esplanade Avenue, a woman on a mission, her five-inch stiletto boots clicking on the concrete with each determined step.
No way. No fucking way was she letting that weaselly bastard lay a claw on her man. If she had to eat a human’s still-beating heart, she’d do whatever it took to keep Ethan safe. She paused, the mere thought of the bloody organ making her head spin.
She could do this. She didn’t have a choice. Straightening her spine, she turned in a circle. “I know you’re following me, Gaston. You can turn off your glamour.”
His form shimmered in front of her before coming into focus. “You’re getting good if you could sense me.”
“I’m already good.” Really, she hadn’t sensed him, but she knew they wouldn’t send an unlicensed, fledgling vampire out into the night unescorted.
“What is your plan, Miss Jane?”
“I don’t have one yet. Right now, I’m winging it, and for that I need a wingman…wingwoman. I have to talk to Sophie.” They’d been in plenty of pickles together, and they always managed to talk themselves out of the mess. Aside from both her and Ethan’s lives being on the line, this was no different. Think, Jane. You can’t stand to look at blood, so what can you do? She marched up the front steps and threw open the door.
Sophie sat on the couch with a dark-haired man with brown eyes and buff shoulders. He was twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, but he jerked his hand away when Jane stomped into the room.
“Sophie, I need your help. You.” She pointed at the man and thumbed toward the door. “Out. She’ll call you later. This is an emergency.”
“Yeah, I’ve got your number. I’ll totally call you.” Sophie stood and stepped around the coffee table. “Bye, John.”
“It’s James, but…” He screwed up his mouth on one side, glaring at Jane until Gaston stepped into the room. One look at the ancient vampire, and John-James scurried out the door.
“Well, hello, tall, pale, and gothic. What can a human girl do to help out a couple creatures of the night?” She paused and glanced over Gaston’s shoulder. “Where’s Ethan?”
“He’s about to be staked if I can’t get my act together and bite someone.” She told her what went down in the Council chamber.
“That son of a bitch.” Sophie crossed her arms. “If I ever get my hands on the little prick, I’ll kick him all the way to Alaska in the summertime. A little midnight sun will take care of him.” She wrapped an arm around Jane’s shoulders. “Tell me what I need to do.”
That was the problem. Jane worked best under pressure, but this was more than her undead mind could handle. Ethan’s life…err, death…was on the line.
She chewed the inside of her cheek as an idea formed in her head. “You’re good at faking it, right?”
Sophie grinned. “Darling, I’m the master.” Her smile slipped. “Which is actually kinda sad, come to think of it.”
“If we get through this, I’ll find you the biggest, burliest werewolf in New Orleans, and you’ll never have to fake it again. I promise.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are werewolves any good in the sack?”
“How should I know?”
Gaston cleared his throat. “I have heard they exhibit quite a prowess in the bedroom. Nothing compared to vampires, I assure you.” He smoldered at Sophie, but his smolder didn’t hold a candle to Ethan’s sexy stare. Besides, Gaston was so not her type.
Sophie gave him a once-over, as if considering his offer—man, it must’ve been a while for her—and then turned to Jane. “Okay, but I’m not doing it doggie style every time.”
“I’m sure he’ll do you any style you want, babe. Now, about my dilemma…?”
“Right. What am I faking?”
“I will try my best to glamour you, but if it doesn’t work, I need you to pretend like you’re hypnotized. Just stare straight ahead. Don’t fall over yourself or anything, but…basically act like me before I’ve had my morning coffee.”
Sophie went still, a blank stare filling her eyes as she dropped her arms to her sides.
“That’s perfect.” Four years in the high school drama club had served her friend well.
“Ah, yes…” Gaston cupped his chin in his hand as he examined her. “But at the moment of the bite…or pretend bite…you must react; they always do. An erotic moan won’t work, as you’re best friends. Try a quick inhale as you might do at the moment of another type of penetration.” The poor guy was still trying to smolder at Sophie. He could have easily used his own glamour to make her want him, but then Jane would have had to kick his ass. Good thing he knew better.
Sophie sucked in a breath and even gave her body a little shudder, tilting her head slightly.
“Damn, that’s sexy. You really are good at this.” Jane grabbed her shoulder, giving her a shake to see if she could hold character. “We’ve got to find you a good man.”
Sophie blinked, coming back to herself. “Tell me about it.”
“I’m going to have to put my mouth on your neck, but I won’t bite hard. You don’t want to see the damage I’ve done to all the squash in New Orleans. Then I’ll have to lick your neck to pretend like I’m closing the punctures. Stay hypnotized until we leave the building. I doubt they want humans knowing where their coven headquarters is.”
“Jane…” Sophie took her hand, squeezing it tight. “If you have to bite me for real, do it. I’m down for whatever it takes to keep you and Ethan safe.”
How the hell did Jane get so damn lucky? Aside from her current predicament, of course. She had the absolute best friend in the world, a vampire sex god for a boyfriend, and she’d stay young forever.
She pulle
d Sophie into a tight hug. “It won’t come to that.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t.” Gaston opened the door. “If you’re not glamoured properly, the pain will be excruciating.”
“Cheese and crackers, Debbie Downer, that was the least helpful thing you could say.” She hooked her arm through Sophie’s and strutted outside, glaring at Gaston as she passed. “No more negativity, Nancy, or I’ll ban you from my club when it opens.”
“Please accept my apologies, Miss Sophie. If you need someone to kiss it and make it better when she’s done, I’m happy to oblige.”
Sophie patted his cheek. “Thanks, Gaston, but I’ll take a big hairy wolf over a cadaver any day. No offense, Jane.”
She laughed. “None taken. Now, let’s go get my man.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jane stopped a block away from the coven headquarters and took Sophie’s face in her hands. “Remember, if this glamour doesn’t work, you’re me first thing in the morning.”
“Zombie girl. Got it.”
“But not too zombie.” Jane stared into her eyes, calling on her magic and focusing on wiping Sophie’s mind.
Sophie froze, her eyes widening for a moment before she stared blankly in front of her, her lips parting slightly. Jane snapped her fingers in front of Sophie’s face, and she didn’t flinch. Either her friend’s acting skills were top notch or Jane had gotten better at glamour. She didn’t have time to worry about it, though. Her extension ended in ten minutes.
She guided Sophie into the Council’s chamber, and her heart wrenched when she found Ethan chained to the wall, his arms out to his sides, exposing his chest. “Motherfucker.” She started toward him, but Gaston’s heavy hand on her shoulder reminded her of her mission. If she could get that damn license, all of this would be over.
“I put in a call to the Supernatural World Order,” Watson sneered. “If you fail, you’ll both be staked. Insolence will not be tolerated.”
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