A Girls Guide to Vampires

by Katie MacAlister

  "I have work to do," he replied, his eyes going molten as I slipped a hand under his sweater and stroked his chest. "The crowds are reaching the maximum number we can accommodate, and I have to make sure the crew assigned to crowd control are doing their jobs."

  A nipple was the reward for my dedicated exploration. I teased it and gloried in the way his breathing suddenly went erratic. "So many men are not nipple aficionados," I commented, wiggling my hips so I brushed against him in a way I hoped would make him forget about the crowds. "I'm glad to see you are, because I've always thought that it is an extremely erotic spot on a man's body."

  He closed his eyes for a moment, a groan slipping out as I licked the corners of his mouth; then suddenly both of his hands were on me. He cupped a hand around the back of my head and pulled it back at the same time as his mouth descended upon mine. He invaded, he dominated, he demanded response and would not settle for anything but utter surrender. I capitulated happily, melting into him and inhaling that wonderful Raphael scent, passion firing deep within me with every stroke of his tongue. I moaned my pleasure and was just about to slide my second hand under his sweater so I could really indulge myself when he broke off the kiss.

  "Hey!" I said, extremely unhappy that he stopped.

  "Later," he said with a promise in his eyes that made my knees go weak. "I can't do this now, but… later."

  "Your place or mine?" I asked, running my finger over the lush curve of his lower lip. So hot were his eyes, I thought his gaze would leave scorch marks where it touched me.

  "I honestly don't care as long as you're there naked."

  "I like a man who's easily accommodated," I said with a little kiss to the tip of his nose. "Have fun watching the kids play."

  He stopped me as I was turning to leave, pulling a key off a key chain and handing it to me. I saluted him with it, gave him a lascivious leer just to let him know he was the sexiest man on the face of the earth, and toddled off to find Roxy and Christian.

  Roxy blamed every single disaster of the evening on me, claiming my cataclysient powers were running amok.

  "I knew you shouldn't have read those rune stones," she grumbled as she washed her sooty hands in a bucket of water that stood under a spigot. "I knew something like this would happen. I just knew it! You can't keep your catastrophes to yourself! You're not cataclysient, you're a catamaniac!"

  "I am not responsible for that fire! And if you recall, you are the one who arranged for me to read the runes. You begged me, you pleaded with me, you bet every cent you had on me, so even if by some weird quirk of fate my reading was responsible for the fire at the Kirlian photo booth, the entire situation would be your fault, not mine."

  "Ladies," Christian said with what was becoming a well-known martyred look. "I believe the source of the fire will prove to be the wires connected between the aura camera and the computer. I could not help but notice while we were extinguishing the fire that the wires were charred beyond what they should be in a simple fire."

  "There's no such thing as a simple disaster where Joy's concerned," Roxy muttered, taking the towel Christian held out to dry her hands.

  "I would be grateful if you would stop implying that everything that goes wrong is my doing," I said through gritted teeth. "I have had no more to do with the fire than the other happenings this evening."

  "You punched the lead singer of Six Inches of Slime in the face and broke his nose!"

  "I didn't punch him! Not deliberately! I tripped over a power cord and fell onto him. It just so happened that his nose was right where my fist landed. Besides, he deserved it. He was hitting on me and he wouldn't take no for an answer! What was I supposed to do, let him rape me? You know, I'm getting just a little bit tired of every man around here assuming I'm fair game."

  "Ha! Talk about conceited! Every man? What, you think you're some sort of sex goddess that no man can resist?"

  "Ladies, please—"

  I ignored both Christian and Roxy. "And as for breaking that fool's nose, if he hadn't ducked, I would have hit him in the eye instead of the nose, and he could have gone on with his stupid band rather than screaming for a doctor. Who knew he'd be such a big baby over a little blood? I thought Goths were supposed to like blood and pain and suffering! My inadvertent punching him in the nose should have been right up his alley."

  "Oh, I see," Roxy said with obnoxious innocence. I ground my teeth even harder. "So it wasn't your fault that the crowds rioted and tore up the main tent when Six Inches didn't go on because their lead singer was having his nose set? And it wasn't your fault that Raphael wasn't here controlling the crowds like he was supposed to be, because he was busy driving your victim to the hospital, thus leaving Dominic in charge—a man who clearly has no idea of how to keep large crowds in control?"

  "It's his fair; you'd think he'd take precautions to make sure all those Goths didn't get out of control."

  "Joy, Roxanne, I understand you are both angry, but this is not the—"

  I finished drying my hands and shoved the towel into Christian's hands. Roxy turned and faced me, her hands on her hips. "He did take precautions; he hired Raphael, who would have been here but for you attacking that poor singer."

  "Roxy, I swear, if you tell me one more time that I'm responsible for—"

  "Joy!"

  "Aren't you supposed to be off looking for my Dark One?" I snapped at Christian. "Aren't you supposed to be watching Milos to see if he's the walking dead?"

  "Don't you yell at him," Roxy shouted, throwing herself in front of him and waving her arms in an excited fashion. "He's a famous author! You can't yell at famous authors like that! Besides, he's innocent. He's not the one who—"

  "Don't say it," I warned, shaking my finger at her. "Don't you say it! I swear, between the runes and Tanya and Dominic jumping out at me all evening trying to corner me and that little twerp with the glass nose and fighting a fire with fire extinguishers that spray everything but the fire, I'm at my limit!"

  "I don't care, you can't yell at Christian!"

  "I'll yell at whoever I want to yell at!"

  "You want to yell? Good. Yell at her!" Roxy pointed over my shoulder. I turned to see Tanya charging toward me, a look of fury and hatred on her face that was clearly visible from twenty paces.

  "Oh, God!" I swore, knowing she was coming to rip a few strips off me, and helpless without Raphael to keep her from going rabid on me.

  Christian was at my side in a flash. "I will take care of her," he said in that beautiful voice that was tinged with menace so threatening it sent unpleasant shivers down my back.

  "No," I said quietly, trying to slap a smile on my face. I wasn't successful. "It's OK. She's all bark and no bite. She wouldn't dare do anything so foolish as to assault me in front of witnesses. I'm sure she'll throw a curse or two on me, but I can live with that. It won't hurt me to let her vent her spleen if it makes her feel better."

  "You!" Tanya growled as she drew close, her eyes black as coal. Unlike earlier in the evening when she was positively frothing at the mouth with anger, now she had the appearance of calm, but it was misleading. There was a curious edginess about her, as if she was filled with tightly coiled energy that threatened to burst open at any moment. "This time you have gone too far. You will be punished, of that I am promising you. There is no escaping your fate."

  "I've always believed that the concept of people being helpless against fate was a load of cow cookies," I said mildly. "I prefer to make my own future, thank you."

  Tanya's lip twitched. A tremor ran through her. She fisted her hands. "I will not be in the way sorry at all for what is coming you," she ground out.

  "Do you know that your English goes to pot the more upset you get?" I asked, my head tipped to the side as I tapped a finger on my lips. "There must be some sort of direct correlation between stress and the language-skills part of your brain."

  She leaned forward until she was a scant few inches away from me. The wind carried her long red h
air forward until it brushed against me. I stepped back, uncomfortable with any part of her touching me. Her lips curled back into a vicious, gloating smile that made me wonder about her sanity, her voice a rough whisper meant only for my ears. "You will die tonight. I hope your prayers you have said."

  "You don't scare me at all, Tanya," I whispered back to her. Christian moved restlessly behind me, but I held out a hand to keep him from interfering. "Do you know, I honestly don't feel anything for you but pity? You're consumed with anger and hatred for me because you think I'm usurping your position, but the truth is, you wouldn't be happy if I left tomorrow. I think you should look within yourself for the answers to what's making you so miserable. As the runes said, blaming others for misfortunes you've brought on yourself is not the way to achieve happiness."

  "I will be happy only when you are dead," she promised, this time loud enough for both Roxy and Christian to hear, as well as half a dozen other people near us. Several people turned around at her words, just in time to see her snatch up the bucket of sooty water and throw it at me.

  "What the—" I bellowed, stunned by the cold water slamming me full in the face. I looked down at myself to find muddy, sooty water pouring off the front of my jacket, down over my lovely crushed velvet dress, pooling on the matching flats with the freshwater pearl ankle straps.

  Tanya was already striding off by the time I finished sputtering enough to call her a few choice swear words. The people standing around us quickly turned away as if embarrassed to have witnessed such a scene. Roxy grabbed my arm and kept me from racing after Tanya and rubbing her face in the mud.

  "Geez, you're a mess. Come on, Rocky, we'll get you home and into dry clothes before your next round with the Witch of the Moravian Highlands."

  Christian handed me a handkerchief to clean off my face, all the while murmuring softly reassuring things.

  "No, thank you," I said, mopping up and trying to brush the worst of the mud off. I smiled at Christian. "I'll have this washed before I return it to you. I think, if you don't mind, I'll go get out of these wet clothes."

  "I'll come with you," Roxy selflessly offered. I gave her hand a little squeeze.

  "Not necessary. I'm not going back to the hotel just yet. I'll use Raphael's trailer to dry off." I said the words to Roxy, but my eyes were on Christian. He stiffened for a moment, his inscrutable gaze searching my face.

  "You sure?" Roxy asked, looking between Christian and me.

  I nodded. "I'm sure. I'll see you tomorrow morning, OK? Christian, are we on for the tour of your dungeon tomorrow?"

  He was silent for a moment, his eyes hooded as if he was unwilling to reveal any of himself; then he made an elegant gesture of capitulation with his hand. "I would be delighted. I have some business to attend to in the morning, but if you are free in the afternoon, I would be happy to show you around the castle."

  "Great," I smiled, giving Roxy a glance warning her to behave herself. "Then I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for all your help. I really appreciate it." Just for the hell of it I kissed him on his cheek. His hands clutched my arms for a moment before releasing me.

  I started off in the direction of Raphael's trailer, skinnying in and out of the thickening crowds.

  "Joy!" I turned when Roxy called my name.

  She hurried up to me, glared at a couple of mohawked teens who were staring open-mouthed at my soaked self until they turned away, and hissed, "You're OK for this evening, right?"

  OK? Huh? "What?"

  She pulled me out of the stream of traffic and started rooting through her purse. "This evening. Later. You and Raphael. Here, take these."

  She shoved a handful of condoms in my hand.

  "Roxy!" I said, shocked. "What are you doing with condoms? I thought you were saving yourself for Mr. Right?"

  "Duh! Miranda said I'd be meeting him within a month, so I brought them with me just in case. But I haven't seen anyone here who's even remotely right, except Christian, and he has the hots for you."

  "He doesn't have the hots for me, he's just one of those men who thinks he wants something someone else has. He's not serious."

  "Mmm. Reserving judgment on that. Here—" She snatched the condoms from my hand and stuffed them in my purse. "Use them with my blessing."

  I ignored her suggestive leer and headed back out into the crowd, feeling an awful lot like a salmon swimming upstream as I walked away from the fair to the line of trailers that ran in a curve around the far end of the meadow.

  I figured Raphael wouldn't mind if I used his digs to dry off. He had given me his key; clearly he expected to find me in his trailer when his job was done. I'd much rather wait for him there than in my small hotel room, or wandering around the fair where I could run into Tanya again. Not to mention Dominic and his octopus hands. Or the über-creepy Milos.

  A half hour later I was sitting in Raphael's trailer warm and dry in one of his sweatshirts. My dress hung over the chair, toweled clean as best I could get it. My coat was hanging over a stack of newspapers. My underwear was tucked discreetly into my bag. I had debated the "undies on/undies off" dilemma, finally deciding that although undies off might lead Raphael to believe I was the sort of loose woman who was anticipating the type of action that underwear would inhibit, it was better than lounging around in wet, soggy underwear—or worse, having him discover wet, soggy underwear on me! Gross!

  That serious issue resolved, I curled up with a blanket and a book on Raphael's bed, resisting the urge to search through his belongings to see what I could find out about him. Part of the spice to our whole relationship—what there was of it so far—was the sense of mystery that wrapped around him. I was greatly looking forward to uncovering all the many interesting bits and pieces that added up to an extremely snacky man.

  That thought reminded me of the condoms Roxy had shoved into my purse. Although I was sure Raphael would be equipped with his own supply, there was no sense in taking chances. I glanced around to see where I could stash a condom, hidden from view just in case things didn't turn out as I hoped they would, and yet handy if it did.

  "Pillow!" I said brightly, turning around to put a condom under one of the pillows on his bed. My hand paused over the nearest, then carefully edged my hand back.

  There was no gun under the pillow.

  "Hmmm." I looked under the other pillow. It, too, was gun-free. I placed the condom under it and leaned back, pulling my knees up so I could rest my chin on them while I thought.

  I had felt his chest, had leaned up close against him, and he didn't have a gun strapped under his armpit, so where was it? I looked through the open door down the length of the trailer, wondering if he had hidden it somewhere here, or if he had moved it elsewhere.

  "And come to think of it, why does he have a gun in the first place?" My voice was harsh as it echoed around the room, an intruder in a private little sanctuary. I scooted beneath the blankets, taking my book with me, and buried my face in his pillow as I gave myself up to the wonderful Raphael scent that never failed to make me go all girly inside.

  It started the same way it had before.

  Beloved, the voice echoed through my head. I fought to wake up, fought to shed the silken bonds that held me down into sleep and kept me from awareness. Once again my body seemed to be a heavy, alien thing that didn't answer my demands.

  Beloved, do not fight me. He was touching me, stroking my body even though I knew he wasn't physically present. How could I fight a man whose very thoughts felt like the lightest of touches on my skin? I moaned deep in my throat as I struggled to escape the whispered strokes of his fingers. It was wrong, my mind shrieked at me. Every touch of his mind to mine was wrong! I had to make him understand that what he wanted was not mine to give.

  I could never hurt you. You are my Beloved. You must not deny your fate any longer.

  No, I screamed inside my head. He was coming closer to me, I could feel him moving through the night, graceful, powerful, a timeless hunter filled with the
fury of eternal torment, calling through the night to the one person he believed could save him. Me.

  I am not she, I pleaded with him. I do not belong to you. It is wrong. We will both suffer if you do not stop now.

  I could never hurt you, Beloved.

  I sobbed Raphael's name, struggling to break free of the Dark One's power, desperate to escape and regain control of my own body. My skin crawled with the thought of what would happen once he arrived. I would be damned as he was—I knew that as surely as I knew the sun rose each morning to banish the terrors of the night.

  "You are more beautiful than any woman I have seen." Heat covered me, filled me, kindling desire within me, within him.

  Beloved.

  Raphael! I answered, fighting with every ounce of strength I had left.

  A warmth, a presence I hadn't felt in the vision of the other night surrounded me. "You smell like flowers, but you taste of heaven." Flames licked up my back, burning my neck, lighting me on fire. I struggled to escape the flames, but the Dark One's hold on me was too great.

  "I've thought about you all evening, thought about this. You were never once from my mind. You were meant for me. Every inch of you is perfect, perfectly made for me. You are mine."

  He was coming closer. He was almost upon me.

  We will be together forever, Beloved.

  Nooooo!

  "Say it. Say the words. I want to hear them." The fire consumed the front of me, burning down past flesh and muscle and bone, boiling my blood away until there was nothing left of the essence of me. What was left was love.

  "Raphael!"

  "Mmm. I thought you'd never wake up."

  I opened my eyes. Raphael's amber gaze burned into me seconds before his mouth claimed mine. I gave myself to him, gave him everything there was of me and accepted him in return.

  A soulless howl of agony rent the fabric of the night, bringing tears to my eyes even as I understood that there was nothing I could do for the Dark One.