License to Bite

by Carrie Pulkinen

  Jane fisted her hands to keep them from shaking—maybe that was why Ethan did it so much—and looked at the Magistrate.

  He shook his head, his eyes apologetic. “The order comes from the Emperor himself. I’ve done all I can.”

  She straightened her spine, feigning confidence. “It’s okay, boo. We got this.” She winked and flashed a smile at Ethan. The sadness in his eyes nearly tore her in two. You’ve got this, Jane. Fake it ‘til you make it, she said to herself.

  Mr. Weasel Watson stood and brushed his trench coat back, giving Jane a glimpse of the stakes secured inside. What kind of a sadistic fuck carried around weapons, flashing them at people to exert his dominance? A fuck with a tiny dick, that’s who.

  “Proceed, woman.” Watson said woman like it was a bad thing to be one.

  Misogynistic, sadistic, tiny-dicked fuck. Jane positioned herself in front of Sophie, looking into her blank eyes and searching for any sign of awareness. Sophie didn’t even blink. She leaned toward her neck.

  “You can do it, Jane. I believe in you.” Ethan strained against his chains. “Just pretend it’s tomato juice. You’re sucking it right from the fruit.”

  She paused and looked at him. “Tomatoes are vegetables.”

  “They’re actually fruit.”

  “You wouldn’t put them in a fruit salad.”

  “And that’s the difference between knowledge and wisdom,” Gaston growled. “You have two minutes, Miss Jane.”

  “Right.” She looked at the curve of Sophie’s neck and instinctively knew exactly where the vein lay beneath her skin. Her head spun, and she closed her eyes, placing her open mouth over the target.

  The bitter taste of Sophie’s jasmine body lotion battled with the sweet fragrance, and Jane focused on the disjointed sensation waging between her senses of smell and taste. She swallowed, but before she could pull away, the weasel shot to his feet and marched toward her.

  “I’ll inspect the puncture wounds before you seal them.”

  “Uhh…” Jane’s voice was muffled against Sophie’s neck. “There’s no need for that.”

  “Oh, but there is.” What was it with this guy’s diabolical-sounding voice? You’d think the fate of the world hinged on Jane passing this test.

  She licked Sophie’s neck and straightened. “Oops. Already sealed. Sorry not sorry.” She shrugged.

  Watson glided his nose along Sophie’s neck, inhaling deeply before glaring at Jane. “Lies! There’s no trace of blood. No linger of vampire magic. This woman has never been bitten.” He yanked a stake from his coat and lunged. Jane jumped out of his path, so he headed for Ethan.

  “No!” Jane hissed, and her fangs extended fully, not because she craved blood, but because she would fight to the death for the man she loved. Sadly, fighting wouldn’t help her in this instance. “I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Don’t hurt him!”

  The Magistrate lifted a hand, freezing Watson to the spot, and he rose, descending from his throne and approaching Jane. “You have thirty seconds, my dear, before I’ll be forced to release him.”

  “Wow. I’ve got to learn that little trick.” No wonder he was the man in charge.

  “Twenty-five seconds.”

  Jane squared her shoulders, clutched Sophie by the arms and opened her mouth. Then she closed it again. The entire room spun, and her head felt so light, it might float away.

  “Fifteen seconds.” The Magistrate lifted his hand, ready to release his magical hold.

  Oh, fuck it all. She sank her fangs into her best friend’s neck.

  Blood pooled from the wounds, and she created a seal around the punctures with her lips, sucking like her life depended on it—which, it did.

  Really lightheaded now, she pulled away and looked at what she’d done to her friend. No ripped flesh. Sophie had barely reacted. Only two small holes marred her skin, and thick, red blood oozed from them, sliding down her neck.

  Jane didn’t pass out. In fact, she felt energized, and the blood dripping from her friend’s neck had her mouth watering for more.

  The Magistrate nodded. “Seal the wounds.”

  Jane licked Sophie’s neck, and the sweet, coppery taste danced on her tongue one last time as the punctures sealed, leaving no trace of their existence behind.

  “Mark her,” the Magistrate said.

  Jane held Sophie’s head and claimed her as a meal, which felt odd as all get-out, but whatever. She’d done it. She’d drunk a human’s blood, and it actually wasn’t bad. “Did I pass?”

  The Magistrate steepled his fingers, a small smile curving his lips. “Indeed, you did, my dear. Well done.” He bowed his head slightly and returned to his throne.

  Gaston released Ethan from the chains, pulling him and Sophie aside as the Magistrate unlocked Watson. Jane laughed as the weasel stumbled, his stake sticking into the wall where Ethan had stood.

  Watson hissed, baring his fangs as his pupils narrowed to slits. “I will not be made a mockery by a woman.”

  He unwedged his stake from the wall and lunged at Jane. The fucker was actually trying to stake her. Bastard. She feinted left, grabbing his arm and using his momentum to send him flying across the room.

  As his feet hit the ground, he came for her again—did this guy not know when to give up?—and she spun around, delivering a back kick straight to his chest. Her stiletto pierced his ribcage, puncturing his heart, and he exploded into a pile of ash before her foot hit the floor. Oops.

  “Holy shit! Remind me never to get on your bad side.” Ethan took her hand and gaped at the mess she’d made of the weasel.

  Jane looked up to find the entire Council and every member of the coven in attendance staring at her with wide eyes. The room went so deathly silent, you could have heard a mosquito fart.

  As Ethan noticed the silence, he straightened and addressed the Magistrate. “She acted in self-defense, Your Honor. There’s no crime in fighting for your life.”

  No one spoke. No one moved for a good thirty seconds, and Jane was just about to kiss her undead life goodbye when the Magistrate did his signature finger steeple and nodded.

  “Indeed, she did, Mr. Devereaux.” He looked at Jane. “The little bastard has been after my job since the moment he arrived. You’ve done us all a favor tonight, my dear. Jeffrey.” He waved a hand, and Jeffery approached, presenting her with a credit-card-sized piece of plastic. “Congratulations, Ms. Anderson. You are now licensed to bite.”

  She looked at Ethan and wiggled the card. “I told you I had this.”

  He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll never doubt you again. Good job, princess.”

  She laughed. “Jane Anderson, Princess of Darkness. It has a ring to it.”

  “It certainly does.”

  “I’m going to need a prince, though. Are you interested in the job?” She slid her hands up his shoulders to cup his face.

  He returned the gesture. “If it means spending every night of the rest of my death with you, sign me up.”

  She kissed him, using her magic to mark him, to claim him as her own forever and ever. He did the same to her, and the small hole she’d felt in her heart filled in.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I love you, Jane.”

  “Words I never thought I’d hear from your mouth.” She grinned and grabbed his ass, pulling him toward her. “I love you too.”

  Epilogue

  Seven Months Later

  Ethan adjusted his black silk tie in the mirror and smiled at Jane’s reflection behind him. She wore a deep red strapless ball gown with a full skirt and tight bodice that accented her delicious curves. She’d swept her long hair up in a twist with a few silky strands spiraling down around her face to accent her crimson lips. He’d never seen a more lovely sight.

  Jane rested her hands on his shoulders. “Ready to go, Edward?”

  He pressed his lips into a line, glaring at her.

  “You’re right. You’re way too hot to be Edward. Louie? Lestat?” Sh
e tapped a finger against her lips before snapping. “I’ve got it. You’re Elijah Mikaelson.”

  He turned to face her, taking her in his arms. “I’m simply a vampire.”

  “And I’m simply your victim.”

  “There’s nothing simple about you, princess.”

  “Damn straight.” She gave him a quick kiss before turning and tugging him out the door.

  They’d worked together over the past seven months to organize and open New Orleans’ first vampire bar, and the premise had been a hit from day one. Jane’s social skills were unrivaled, and patrons lined up down the sidewalk and around the building for a chance to experience Nocturnal New Orleans at its finest.

  Ethan kept the books, working five nights a week alongside his bride, living his death to the fullest with the most wondrous woman in the world. With her aversion to blood cured, Jane fed like a natural, and when she flashed her sexy fangs as they approached the club, Vlad sprang to attention.

  He pulled her close. “We could skip the club and have a party of our own.”

  She bit his bottom lip, and his knees nearly buckled. “Let’s save it for the after party. I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

  “You’re killing me, woman.”

  “You’re already dead.” She nipped his earlobe before taking his hand and strutting through the entrance.

  Sophie sashayed toward them wearing a black witch costume, complete with a pointy hat and broomstick, owning her ancestry though she didn’t possess an ounce of magic to speak of. Gaston’s meal mark glowed in her aura. “There you two are. I was getting worried.” She waved her broomstick at them. “It’s Halloween, not a formal ball. Where are your costumes?”

  Ethan bared his fangs, and Jane turned her head, revealing two fake puncture wounds with synthetic blood dripping down her neck.

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “A vampire and his victim? How original.”

  Jane snickered. “I’d like to know why you’re wearing Gaston’s mark so early in the evening. Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Yeah. You said there’d be werewolves here, and you promised to introduce me to one.” She crossed her arms. “I was nervous. I can’t tell which guys are checking me out because I’m hot and which ones are looking for a drink, so Gaston took a sip and marked me as a favor.”

  “How nice of him.” Jane winked at Ethan.

  Sophie glared at both of them. They could think whatever they wanted about Sophie’s relationship with Gaston, but it would never go the way Jane would love to see it go. Gaston was a nice guy, and he and Sophie had become friends over the past few months, but despite his repeated offering of certain benefits, she couldn’t imagine climbing into bed with a man who was as cold as a corpse.

  “I can’t tell who’s human and who’s a supe, so if any werewolves show up, you’re going to have to point them out to me.”

  “Most everyone here is a supe. This is an invitation-only party, and just a few humans were invited.” Jane linked her arm through Sophie’s, turning her to scan the crowd. “Let’s see. I’m not great at reading magic in auras yet, but I can tell you that good-looking guy over there is one hundred percent human.” She turned some more. “What do you think about him? He’s got a magical shimmer around him.”

  Sophie eyed the man. He was tall with broad shoulders, which she liked, but going on looks alone, he was blond. She preferred dark hair. “Hmm. The initial spark of attraction isn’t there, but if he’s a werewolf and a nice guy, he might grow on me.”

  Ethan leaned his head between theirs. “He’s fae. Werewolves have an orange glow in their auras.”

  Sophie sighed. “Damn. I need a beer.”

  Jane joined her at the bar, though she had a glass of the “house red,” which was really blood, and Ethan sidled next to his wife, sliding his arm across the back of Jane’s seat.

  “What do you know about werewolves?” he asked.

  “Nothing. While you’ve been integrating your wife into the supernatural world, I went back to Texas to get that branch of my business running under new management, and I’ve been so busy since I moved here, between getting the new office set up and trying to activate whatever magic I may have inherited from my grandma, I haven’t had much time to research.”

  “Why are you so interested in dating one?” Why did he care?

  “Because they’re part animal. They’re wild and untamed.” And Sophie had never met an animal that didn’t like her. She had a way with them that astounded most people, and it was why her dog walking business had taken off so well. “I might even let him bite me if he has magical healing spit like y’all do.”

  Ethan shook his head. “Werewolves aren’t allowed to bite other supes. It’s part of the truce.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m not a supe then. Sometimes I like it a little rough.”

  Jane snorted, and blood dribbled down her chin. “It’s true. She’s told me stories.”

  Ethan ignored their banter. “If a werewolf bites you, you’d better hope the only magic you got from your grandma is your scent. Otherwise, his magic will mix with yours, triggering the were mutation, and you’ll turn into a wolf too.”

  “Oh. Ew. Okay, I’ll do all the biting then.” She definitely did not want to turn into an animal herself. “Honestly, guys, I don’t know. There’s something about a man who can turn into a predatory animal at will that’s sexy as all get-out. You vampires are cool…too cool for my liking, and witches are bitches, so I’ve learned. I just really want to meet a werewolf.”

  “Oh. My. Goat cheese pizza.” Jane gripped her arm. “The Magistrate is here.” She slid from her seat. “I have to go welcome him. If any werewolves show up, Ethan and I both promise to introduce you, right, Ethan?”

  “Sure.” He stood and followed Jane as she sashayed toward New Orleans’ most powerful vampire.

  Sophie had another beer alone at the bar. Between having no magical signature in her aura and Gaston’s meal mark making her off limits to the vamps, no one paid her any mind, except for her bladder, which, after her third beer of the night, demanded attention.

  She slipped out of her seat, tipping the chair forward to lean the back against the bar, the universal signal for this seat is taken, and began the trek to the restroom. Two steps into the journey, her bladder decided she wasn’t moving fast enough and threatened to soak her panties in a not-fun way. She practically did the pee-pee dance the next fifteen feet toward the door until a broad chest and thick, auburn beard caught her gaze, making her forget all about her problems down under.

  Now here was a man she’d happily take home, whether he was a werewolf or not. His golden-brown eyes gleamed the color of dark honey, and thick, wavy auburn hair matched his beard perfectly. His tanned skin said he worked outside, and that cop outfit. Damn. Whether it was a costume or he was an actual cop didn’t matter. It would look amazing on her bedroom floor either way.

  Her bladder protested as she altered her course, but it could wait a few more minutes. She’d never forgive herself if she didn’t say hello to a man who could melt her panties off with a simple smile.

  His devilish grin widened as she approached, and she licked her lips, taking in all six-feet, three inches of him. “Hi. You’re a cop.” She’d meant for it to be a question, but something about being near the man made her brain go haywire.

  He chuckled. “And you’re a witch.”

  She adjusted her hat. “Guilty. I’m Sophie, by the way.” She bit her bottom lip, willing the sudden urgency of her bladder to ease so she could talk to the man.

  “Are you okay?” Amusement danced in his eyes. “You look like you might be in pain.” He gestured to her crossed legs, and she looked down, horrified to find herself standing in the classic little kid I’ve got to pee pose.

  “I, uh…was on my way to the bathroom.” Heat flushed her cheeks as she jerked her thumb toward the ladies’ room.

  “Do you need an escort?”

  “I can make it on my o
wn.” She turned but paused, refusing to let her embarrassment get the best of her. “Will you be here when I get back?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted into the sexiest crooked grin she’d ever laid eyes on. “If you’re lucky.”

  “I always am. If you play your cards right, you might get lucky too.” Before he could respond, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned, using every ounce of control she could muster to stop herself from sprinting to the toilet.

  With her ill-timed potty break complete, she adjusted her bra in the mirror, tugging her witch dress down just a bit to show a little cleavage. There was nothing wrong with tempting the man. If his personality was as nice as his looks, she’d be a sure thing. It had been months since she had a man in her bed.

  Her excitement faded as she exited the restroom. The handsome cop was nowhere to be found. She scanned the club, skirting the edges of the dance floor and searching for a sexy man in uniform, but he’d disappeared. Well, what did you expect, Sophie? The pee-pee dance isn’t exactly a mating dance.

  She started toward her lonely seat at the bar, but movement in the courtyard caught her attention. Had her sexy cop stepped outside so they could talk in private? She could only hope. The door stood ajar, but as Sophie slipped through it, she found the enclosed park area empty. Damn.

  As she turned to head inside, the bushes rustled in the back corner, and a whine emanated from the darkness.

  “Who’s there?” She glanced toward the door, but no one had followed, so she tiptoed deeper into the courtyard toward the movement. As she approached, the bushes rustled hard, and something in the corner growled.

  She crouched down, peering into the dark shrubs, and found a pair of yellow eyes staring back at her. She couldn’t make out exactly to whom they belonged, but the silhouette looked like a medium-sized dog. “Hey, buddy. Are you okay?”

  Her voice should have soothed the beast instantly. She reached for the dog, but instead of coming toward her like most animals did when she spoke to them, it inched back.