The Vampire’s Temptation
Bloodwite Book One
Cecelia Mecca
To the cleverest wordsmith I know. Thank you Shayne.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
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Also by Cecelia Mecca
About the Author
The Guardian’s Favor
Chapter 1
Stone Haven, Pennsylvania
“I don’t do shots.”
Everyone began protesting at once—well, everyone other than Tom, who simply ignored her protest and ordered six Slippery Nipples from the bartender.
“Take it, Alessandra. It’s not every day you celebrate a new job—”
“Or abandon your colleagues.” Charlotte scrunched up her nose in mock anger. Everyone laughed, but Alessandra knew there was a bit of truth to her friend’s allegation. She was leaving them, after all. Who was she to deny her boss—ex-boss now—if he wanted to buy his teachers shots after their last day of in-service?
“Besides, this is more of a cordial than a shot,” Charlotte said as the bartender lined the drinks up on the bar.
The group looked at Charlotte as if she’d gone daft.
“It’s all semantics,” Charlotte said, “but Alessandra will only drink cordials, so . . .”
“Leave it to the English teacher,” Tom murmured. “Cordial. Shot. Call it what you will,” he said, lifting his glass. “To a successful school year, to the best teachers in the district, and to Alessandra Fiore—an excellent history teacher and soon-to-be excellent college professor.”
“Cheers,” her friends said one by one, lifting their glasses in a toast. Accepting defeat, she did the same, then drank down the guaranteed headache. As she swapped the empty shot glass for the beer someone else had bought her, Tom clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the new gym teacher, who’d barely made it out alive this year. The poor guy had fallen prey to so many first-year pranks, it was a wonder he’d still shown up to drink with them this afternoon. Or maybe it wasn’t so much of a surprise. She wondered how he’d fare next year, then realized again she wouldn’t be around to find out.
She looked at the familiar dark oak of the bar that had witnessed more teacher happy hours than she could count and wondered what her new colleagues would be like. There were only a handful of young professors at Stone Haven University, and none of the others would be in the history department with her. But if an inferior social life at work was the price to pay for her dream job, so be it. Plus, her friends would still be here, at Murphy’s Pub, every Friday like clockwork.
“Everything OK?”
She jumped a little at the sound of Toni’s voice. Her roommate worked at a shop down the street and typically closed the place down on Fridays. Alessandra hadn’t expected her for at least another hour.
“What are you doing here so early?”
Toni took the ever-present hair tie from her wrist and, in one swift movement, drew her hair into a perfect messy bun. Red hair stuck out in more places than it didn’t, the bright color attracting as much attention as her welcoming smile. Toni’s hair was impossible to look away from. Unbelievably, it was entirely natural too.
“Birdie came down to close. I couldn’t miss your grand celebr—”
Her eyes suddenly went comically wide, focused on something over Alessandra’s shoulder. Alessandra started to turn in that direction, but Toni grabbed her arm.
“No! Don’t look.”
Rolling her eyes, she humored her friend.
“Holy hotness,” Toni whispered just loud enough for her to hear. “And he’s looking at us.”
Alessandra lifted her Corona Light to her mouth, and got a mouthful of lime. She’d forgotten to shove it down the neck. Grabbing a bar napkin, she caught a glimpse of Toni’s worshipful expression. Man, the girl had it bad.
“Is now a bad time to remind you of your boyfriend?”
“Be cool,” Toni said.
Alessandra had to laugh at that. “If anyone here is not being cool, it’s you. Seriously, what’s up with you? Let me get you a—”
She’d brushed off Toni’s hand and finally managed to get a look at the man who’d turned her friend into a bumbling mess. And Alessandra could certainly see what all the fuss was about.
He was looking at them. And not even attempting to hide it. Undeniably good-looking, his dirty blond hair and musician vibe were less intriguing than the way he was staring at Toni. That stare was intense and probing, as if he knew her, but Alessandra was certain she’d never seen him before.
“Her usual,” Alessandra said to the bartender, forcing herself to look away from the newcomer.
“You’re not buying me a drink,” Toni said, trying to push her aside. “This is your night.”
Before Alessandra could take another glance at the stranger, Tom stepped away from the stretch of bar they’d taken over. As their principal, he rarely stayed out for more than an hour or so.
“Good luck,” he said, hugging her as if this were goodbye for real. Stone Haven was as small a town as it got, however, and there was no doubt she’d run into him at least once a week. Here at Murphy’s or walking down their only Main Street. But the employer-employee bond they’d had was now over, and for that she felt a pang of sadness.
“Thank you,” she replied. “For everything.”
He smiled, saluted to the rest of the group, and left.
“Another round of shots,” someone called out. “To summer . . .”
She was so not doing another one. They gave her a pounding headache, and Alessandra had promised herself she would run in the morning. Or at some point tomorrow. She’d been putting it off for a week, and a day after indulging in bar food and too many drinks was the perfect time to get her butt in gear.
“They’re just getting started,” Toni said with a grin, lifting her glass in the air. “To new beginnings,” she said with a not-so-sly glance at the other end of the bar.
Alessandra followed her gaze.
He was gone.
Shrugging, she lifted up her bottle and clinked glasses, grateful for good friends and a summer with nothing to do but prep for her classes in the fall.
“To new beginnings.”
Lawrence was here.
Taking a sip of a gin and tonic, Kenton stared out into the distance from the second-floor balcony of his new home. A train’s whistle broke the blessed silence, though “silence” wasn’t truly silent for him, and hadn’t been for some time. In still moments, he could hear shop owners in town putting out their trash and preparing to close for the evening.
Even so, the view was relaxing—the line of trees across from him was broken by only one discernible building, the courthouse that stood guard on Main Street. The downtown area of Stone Haven was lined with brightly colored Victorian homes and townhouses. He’d con
sidered purchasing one of the latter, only to dismiss the idea.
Too confining.
Now, it would seem, the decision had been a good one. If his senses were accurate, and they always were, his temporary lodgings were located just next door to his nemesis. Purchasing the mansion had attracted attention, but no matter. He would be long gone as soon as the deed was done.
He sat, making a mental note to request that his maidservant purchase cushions. Apparently the previous owner had not found wrought iron as uncomfortable as he did.
Kenton took another sip of his drink as darkness fell. The maid he’d hired from the previous staff—the mansion had been a bed and breakfast when he purchased it—appeared around the balcony to his right. She’d not spoken yet, but Kenton could hear her breathing.
“Send him up,” he said without turning toward her. “But from the outside entrance,” he added. “He may not go inside. Ever.”
Whether the woman was startled by his knowledge of her presence—because he already knew a guest waited below—or because of the vehemence of his request, Kenton wasn’t sure. Nor did it matter. What did matter was the man who even now made his way up the winding outside staircase.
As Lawrence entered the room connected to the balcony, it struck Kenton that he’d made a critical error. He should have killed the girl—woman, more precisely—before Lawrence had arrived. Now his purpose in Stone Haven would be more difficult to fulfill.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Lawrence asked, walking around to stand just next to him. He didn’t need to ask who. The man wasn’t talking about his elderly maid.
“I’d offer you a drink, but regrettably, you’re not staying.”
“How long have you known about her?” Lawrence Derrickson had the sole honor of being the only person to almost make him lose his temper in over seven hundred years, and it would seem he still had the ability to get a rise out of him.
“Longer than you, apparently.”
He knew the barb would hit its mark, and it did.
“Yet you haven’t killed her?”
“Regrettably not.”
“Why?”
Knowing it would anger Lawrence, Kenton took a slow sip of his drink and looked down at the town below them.
“A quaint little place. Didn’t expect as much, although I must admit, the only other time I’ve been to Pennsylvania, when—”
“I don’t give a shit when you were here last or what you think of the town that you plan to terrorize, Kenton.”
“Terrorize? A bit harsh, don’t you think?”
He didn’t give Lawrence a chance to answer. “Nice of you to move so close to me, though I wouldn’t have expected you to splurge on such a luxury.”
Two mansions sitting side by side in a town of this size. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
“I won’t let you kill her,” Lawrence insisted.
He laughed, not to taunt the other man, but it did have that added benefit. “I will enjoy watching you attempt to stop me.”
“She may not pose a threat. Will you for once listen to reason?”
Kenton shot to his feet in an instant, so close to Lawrence he could stun him into silence if he so chose. Centuries of fighting this very same man had taught him not to attempt to kill the Scot. It couldn’t be done. But he certainly enjoyed trying.
“She is a Cheld,” Kenton said.
For Lawrence, that wasn’t enough. For him, it always would be.
“She is,” the Scot agreed. “But you don’t know—”
He rolled his eyes, annoyed by the tedious predictability of the argument. “Nor do I care.”
Lawrence narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists, telegraphing his intentions as clearly as if he’d punched him. “Are you alone?”
He could lie, but Lawrence would learn the truth soon enough—that his siblings were far away from this quaint little Pennsylvania town. Their kind could sense one another, an ability Kenton had more than most, so he did not need to ask the same question about Lawrence’s kin.
Clan Karyn consisted only of one man, for now. Odd, since Lawrence usually traveled with at least one member of his precious clan, although a four-person family could hardly be called a clan, truth be told.
Nothing like the hundred men Lawrence once led.
“I am,” he said. “And so it seems we will have a bit of fun here in”—he waved his arms around him—“Stone Haven.”
Lawrence ground his teeth. “Fun? If you call the murder of an innocent woman—”
“Innocent?” Kenton lifted his chin. “She is a Cheld,” he repeated. “And for that, she cannot be allowed to live.” He lifted his glass. “A toast to our little secret. And to Alessandra Fiore’s last days on earth, poor thing.”
He downed the remainder of his drink in one gulp, then set the empty glass on the table. Droplets of red remained. Mary was none the wiser about the real contents of his favorite bottle of sloe gin. Stepping around Lawrence, he gripped the railing of the balcony and looked down below.
“Have fun attempting to save her,” he said over his shoulder.
Just as Lawrence turned to walk away, muttering a curse under his breath, Kenton added, “I hope you have better luck than you did in Caltabellotta.”
He wasn’t surprised when Lawrence pushed him from the balcony. Indeed, he allowed it. And laughed the whole way down to the ground despite the risk of discovery.
Taunting him had been worth it.
Chapter 2
“You’re seriously going for a run?”
While Toni sat with a cup of tea at the kitchen counter, Alessandra lifted her foot up behind her, stretching her quads.
“I promised myself I would start today—”
“After being out until one a.m.? Good idea.” Toni took the tea bag from the mug and placed it on a napkin.
The smell of chai wafted toward her, an enticement to stay in and get cozy, but rather than succumb to the smell, she grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator. “Are you working today?”
Toni made a face at her. “We don’t all have the summers off.”
“Hey,” she said, giving her a playful shove, “I worked my butt off in college to get a mediocre salary. I’m not going to apologize for that.”
The flicker in Toni’s eyes made her feel an instant surge of regret. Toni hadn’t had that chance. She’d never made it to her first semester of college after her parents died. That had been nine years ago, and she’d never returned, even though she often hinted that she would. For her parents’ sake.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No worries.” Toni smiled. “It’s not like anyone’s preventing me from going back to college. Maybe I’ll enroll in your class. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Fun? You grilling me about medieval history in front of my first class of college students?”
“As if I could ask you something you don’t already know.”
While it was true Alessandra did know a great deal about medieval England—her fascination with that time period starting, oddly enough, after reading The Hobbit—the general Medieval Studies course would cover a broader scope than her particular area of expertise. Luckily, she had a whole summer to prepare for it.
“To answer your question more directly, yes, I’m working today. Why?”
Alessandra took a healthy swig of water and then left the bottle on the coffee table by the door. “I need to grab a gift.”
She opened the front door of their tiny five-room home, one that had been in Toni’s family for decades. It was the only house on Main Street that had a front yard, the others having long since lost most of their greenery.
“See you later.”
After a quick three-block walk, she reached the footpath along the river. Taking a deep breath, Alessandra began running slowly, already regretting that Slippery Nipple.
A month earlier, she’d visited her brother, a senior at Penn State University, and they’d run together for the first time in mo
nths. Her fitness-buff brother had made a good case for a running habit, and she’d promised him, and herself, she’d pick it up again as soon as school let out for the summer. But Toni had been right, of course—she could have picked a better time to begin getting back into shape.
“Beautiful day.”
She hadn’t even heard footfalls behind her. When she turned, Alessandra nearly tripped on nothing more than the dirt path beneath her feet.
It was him, the guy from the bar. The one Toni had drooled over. This morning he was dressed in a plain white T-shirt and nondescript shorts, but he was no less of a looker as he ran alongside her.
He was also a stranger.
She’d never quite gotten used to the “smallness” of Stone Haven. Back home in Mauch Chunk, she could run around the lake three times a week and still not see anyone she knew. Not so in Stone Haven. She’d only lived here for five years, but she knew most of the locals.
He was certainly not one of them.
So what was he doing out here?
“It is,” she agreed. The summer’s heat had not fully set in yet, and it was cool enough for a comfortable run. “You’re not from here.”
As soon as the words were out, it struck her that perhaps she’d been too direct. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m used to seeing tourists in town, but they don’t typically hit the trails.”
While some called Stone Haven the Switzerland of America, its quaint homes and shops surrounded on three sides by the Pocono Mountains, most visitors stayed one night at most. There was only so much country store shopping and ice cream eating a family could do.
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