The Vampire's Temptation

by Cecelia Mecca

  His easygoing smile reassured Alessandra he wasn’t offended. “No need to apologize. I just moved in this week.”

  Toni would die.

  “And I didn’t mean to hijack your run.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s fine. Although I probably can’t keep pace. I’m just getting back into it after a slight hiatus.”

  “How slight?”

  She grimaced. “Two years.”

  In fact, Alessandra had expected to have started feeling winded by now, especially after last night, but she felt great.

  “You seem to be doing just fine.” And though they were running, he stuck out his hand. “Lawrence.”

  She shook it, noticing the firm grip. “Alessandra. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Same here.”

  They moved aside for a biker riding toward them. It was still a bit early in the season for tourists, so she wasn’t surprised when she recognized the young man. Not one of her students, but he’d recently graduated from Stone Haven High School. A biology major, if Alessandra remembered correctly. She’d taught his sister.

  “So, what brings you to Stone Haven?”

  When he didn’t answer, Alessandra looked at his perfect face. Literally. His features were as close to the golden ratio as she’d ever seen. And now he was a member of Stone Haven’s small community. Oh boy, Toni really was going to lose it. This guy would certainly give Tyler a run for his money.

  A good thing. She couldn’t stand her friend’s boyfriend.

  “I’m a bit of a wanderer after I won a pretty big lottery a few years back. Stumbled on Stone Haven recently and thought it would be as good a place as any to settle in for a spell.”

  There was something odd about his accent.

  “Where are you from?” And then a strange thought popped into her head. “You didn’t buy the Henry Hutton Mansion, did you?”

  It made sense. Only someone who hit it big or whose last name was Rockefeller could afford either of the two historic mansions on the outskirts of town—one a popular bed-and breakfast and the other a tourist destination. They had both apparently been sold within days of each other. No one knew why, or who had purchased them.

  “No,” he said.

  Of course he hadn’t. It had been foolish of her to ask.

  “I bought the other. The Addy Hutton Mansion.”

  Oh. My. God.

  “Seriously?”

  His smile must have broken many girls’ hearts. “Seriously.”

  She wanted so badly to ask more questions, but she’d been rude enough already.

  “Wow. Do you know who bought the other one?”

  Lawrence’s smile slipped. “I do,” he said.

  Apparently he didn’t see fit to enlighten her.

  “So what does a bachelor do on a Saturday night here in Stone Haven?”

  Was he fishing for information about her dating life? If someone else had asked that same question, she would have assumed as much, but Alessandra wasn’t getting an interested vibe from him. The conversation felt friendly rather than flirty. Which was a good thing since Toni, annoying boyfriend aside, had seen him first.

  That thought led to another—a rather inspired idea, if she did say so herself. Her friend might actually kill her, but it was worth a try. “Your options are limited. But there’s a concert tonight in the jazz hall. Do you like country?” And before he got the wrong idea, she added, “A bunch of us are going, and you’re welcome to come along.”

  Her friends wouldn’t mind at all. Well, with the exception of Toni, who would see right through her. She’d be mad, sure, but she might also be grateful, if only for the eye candy.

  “Country. In a jazz hall?”

  Before she could explain that the club had once played primarily jazz but was now home to all sorts of music, he said, “Sure,” and then pointed to a curve in the trail. “How far are you running?”

  Holy shit. She couldn’t believe they’d come so far already, and she didn’t feel even the slightest bit out of breath. So strange.

  “Normally, I’d turn here since I’m out of practice, but I’m feeling pretty good today. I can keep going if you can.”

  Lawrence’s smile reminded her of the cat who ate the canary. Actually, she’d never seen a cat eat a canary, but she imagined it would look a bit like him now. One with very, very green eyes she’d somehow overlooked earlier.

  “I can go as far as you’d like, Alessandra.”

  Kenton watched Alessandra and her friends from the balcony of the jazz hall, chuckling to himself as his eyes strayed to Lawrence. The bastard hadn’t left her side once all day. Well, let him think she was protected. Kenton wouldn’t kill her until he could be sure she was the only one in her line.

  It hadn’t taken him long to find the rest of her family. A mother who lived alone. A brother in college. A father who’d left when she was seven and later turned up dead. No aunts. No uncles. None he’d discovered yet, anyway.

  As the crowd sang to the beat of a half-decent three-man band, he leaned against the balustrade and waited. He would need to speak to her, get close to her. From there the information he needed would be easy to obtain.

  He stood a bit straighter, seeing something that made him smile genuinely for the first time all night. It had been a subtle move, but Alessandra had shifted so Lawrence was now standing next to her redheaded friend. Was she doing what he suspected? Sure enough, she kept glancing back at the redhead. He couldn’t see her face, but the gesture was plain enough.

  The chit was trying to get her friend together with Lawrence. Which meant, shockingly, she’d not yet succumbed to his charms.

  An interesting development.

  One he planned to take full advantage of.

  Heading to the bar, he put down the full gin and tonic and ordered a beer instead. Ignoring the bartender’s appreciative glances—he couldn’t allow anyone, no matter how comely, to distract him from his mission—Kenton positioned himself directly opposite Alessandra’s gang. He watched as she moved her hips to the music, his view of her face somewhat obstructed by the man in front of her.

  Kenton cursed the pull that drew him to her. The pull only a Cheld could claim. Surely that was the reason he stared at her full lips, watching as she wrapped them around the lip of the bottle. She reminded him of a Hollywood actress, one from another era. Dark features, a seductive smile likely to entrance legions of fans.

  When he’d first felt her presence in New Orleans, he hadn’t gotten a good look at her as she boarded the plane. Even since finding her here . . . this was the closest he’d gotten to her yet.

  If his brother Rowan were here, he would have a grand time teasing him. Italian women had been Kenton’s undoing well before he was made. The daughter of the king’s royal messenger had entranced him in his human life. The obsession had only ended because he’d accidentally killed a lovely Italian lady. He regretted every death, even those he should not mourn, and hers had been especially painful.

  He, his family, the bastard Scot he’d hated since childhood . . . none of them enjoyed hurting innocents, even if Lawrence believed otherwise. The impulses the curse had instilled in him could not always be controlled, much to his regret. The evils he’d done had stayed with him, each leaving a mark on his soul.

  If only we’d had the control back then that we do now.

  Unfortunately for Alessandra, she was not an innocent. By virtue of the very blood coursing through their bodies, the Cheld could not claim innocence.

  Finally, she saw him.

  And although her kind were not drawn to vampires as vampires were to Cheld, her eyes found his and lingered there.

  Pushing aside an answering jolt of lust, he raised his bottle to her, attempting to ignore Lawrence’s glare. He could approach her now, but something told him to wait. Song after song, he watched from a distance as she laughed with her friends. When one of them slung his arm casually around her, Kenton stood up straighter, filled with a sudden urge to snap the man�
�s neck like a twig, but no reaction was needed. She disengaged herself and darted another look his way.

  Interesting.

  She didn’t want to give the impression she was attached.

  But he already knew she was not. Kenton had learned much about her since he’d come to Stone Haven. His instincts also told him it would not be much longer. Indeed, moments later, she made her way to him.

  A bold move, but not unexpected based on what he’d learned about her thus far. Alessandra Fiore was a woman of action. That much she’d already made clear.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Her low, sultry voice took him aback, as did her words. Was she always so direct?

  “Pardon?”

  She looked toward the stage and then back at him.

  “You haven’t glanced their way once. Or shown any interest in the music. So I wondered why you’re here, at this concert.”

  “My interest lies elsewhere,” he said, the truth falling easily from his lips.

  “Clearly.”

  She was dressed simply, the black sundress clinging to her enough for him to clearly see the outline of her breasts and hips. Her long, dark hair, which she’d pulled up atop her head after the third song, fell in wisps around her face, subtle makeup bringing attention to her striking features.

  Unbidden, he pictured her in his bed covered with nothing more than a white sheet, the swell of her breasts peeking out to taunt him.

  Damn Cheld.

  “It appears your friends are watching you,” he said.

  When she turned back to them, he took the opportunity to raise his bottle to Lawrence, the mock salute further angering her protector. If he were not so focused on his prey, Kenton would have relished watching the former chief squirm. Nothing gave him greater pleasure than the agony of a member of Clan Karyn.

  “Let them watch.”

  He’d best be careful with this one.

  “Kenton Morley,” he said. “And you are?”

  “Curious,” she said, her eyes flashing at him.

  And feisty.

  “You’re a tourist, I presume?” she added.

  “Of sorts.”

  He couldn’t think of a more glorious time for the band to take a break than that very moment.

  “Fresh air?” He nodded toward the entrance.

  Whether it was simply a healthy dose of self-preservation or a sign her abilities were beginning to manifest, Alessandra frowned in indecision.

  If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. You’re safe tonight, love.

  “Sure. Hold on,” she finally said.

  He watched as she made her way through the crowd to her redheaded friend. They looked his way, spoke a moment longer, and then Alessandra was back by his side.

  “Ready?”

  He led her back upstairs, to the position from which he’d watched her earlier, and then out onto the deck that wrapped around the building. As he led her to the railing, people clustered in groups of two or three or more filtered out around them. Drinking, laughing.

  One of the eternal truths he’d learned in his long, long life was that people craved companionship. Luckily, he was hardly a person any longer. And he craved nothing but keeping his brother safe. Life held no meaning for him beyond that task.

  “You were watching me,” she said, giving him a sidelong glance.

  Yes, she was bold, this one. Despite himself, he felt a thrill of interest. It had been a long time since anyone had captured his interest. Life had gotten . . . dull.

  “I wasn’t the only one,” he bantered.

  When she took a swig of her beer, Kenton looked up at the clear sky, avoiding the sight of her lips wrapped around that damned bottle.

  “There’s a certain appeal to the night sky here in the country.”

  She looked up with him. “This is hardly the country. For those of us raised in the middle of nowhere, Stone Haven seems like Metropolis.” Leaning her back against the railing, she said, “Alessandra Fiore.”

  “Hmm. Alessandra. An interesting name.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “How so?”

  “The defender of men.”

  He took a swig from the foul drink in his hand. Do as the Romans do, the saying went. At a place like this, folks drank beer.

  “How do you know that?”

  Seven hundred years of life had taught him a thing or two, not that he could say so.

  “I lived in London for a time.” That much was true. Aside from Dublin and the Amalfi Coast, it had been one of his favorite places to live. Of course, there was that hotel owner in Costa Rica . . .

  “My neighbor was a Greek mythology professor. I learned much from him about the Greek gods and goddesses, including Hera, whose nickname you share.”

  A good man, one who had not deserved to die.

  “I’m about to be a history professor too.”

  I know.

  “To be?”

  “I start at Stone Haven University in the fall.”

  He took a step toward her. Because his nature demanded it? Because he wanted to taunt Lawrence, who watched them even now? Or maybe, though he hesitated to admit it, even to himself, he simply wanted to. The scent of vanilla wafted toward him. Sweet, pure. Her blood mixed with the scent she purposely wore.

  She’s your enemy.

  He’d do well to remember it. Beautiful, smart, bold . . . and deadly to his kind, although she did not yet know it.

  He couldn’t give her the chance to learn.

  “How long are you here for?” she asked.

  He took another deep breath, hungry for more of her scent. Long ago, he’d trained himself to withstand the sweet smell of blood, and just now, he was glad for the learned restraint. Being close to her was testing it.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  Her brows drew together. “Not sure—”

  “But with luck, we will meet again.”

  With that, he left her.

  Kenton slowed his pace so as to not draw attention to himself as he made his way down the stairs and out into the night.

  “Wait, Kenton . . . ,” she called, though he ignored the siren’s song.

  It had been years since they’d gone up against the last Cheld they’d found before encountering the Derricksons, a young male who had escaped the notice of Lawrence and his siblings. His brother Drake had killed the Mountie, an upstanding Canadian citizen who’d sought only to serve his community, or so he’d said just before he died.

  Another death to regret, though he’d never say as much to his brothers.

  Though he had not forgotten the pull of the Cheld, he did not remember it being so strong. Something told him this Alessandra was especially dangerous. Life in its most profound form. If he were not more careful, she might come into her abilities before he had the chance to question her about her family.

  That could not be allowed to happen.

  If he must, Kenton would kill her first and take the chance that the rest of her line could be tracked through her mother and brother. He and his siblings would then wipe out the remainder of the family—a pity, but a necessary measure. With any luck, he’d do it before Rowan or Drake arrived, ensuring their deaths were quick and painless.

  But first, he needed to feed. The sole glass of blood he’d had the night before had not been quite enough and never a good replacement for the real thing. Sighing, he made his way toward the bar that Alessandra and her friends had frequented the night before.

  Drunks were always easy prey, and they never remembered his attack.

  Chapter 3

  Alessandra hated coffee, but she loved the smell of it. To think she could almost smell it now, a whole half a block away from The Witch’s Brew . . . it must be the anticipation. She hastened her steps, tightening her grip on the old messenger bag she refused to throw away. When she finally stepped through the door, a bell tinkled overhead, welcoming her.

  She’d never suspected that Stone Haven would be her fore
ver home, but something about the old-fashioned charm of the place had won her over. In a world constantly on the move, it was a place of stillness and peace. Despite the flood of tourists on the weekends, especially during the summer, she absolutely loved it here. Now, if only she could convince her mother and brother to make the move. She missed them both so much.

  “What would you like?” the barista, a former student, asked her with a welcoming grin.

  She really should not get a chai latte. Yesterday’s run had been mitigated by dinner and drinks, and she’d promised herself to start watching the calories. She’d always been the same size, but lately her jeans were getting a bit more snug, a product of too much ordering out with her colleagues.

  “Get one of those chai lattes you like, Miss Fiore,” Sam urged. The bell on the door rang again, the sound putting a smile on her face. “It’s the first official day of summer.”

  Alessandra wasn’t sure how the two were related, but she gave in to temptation.

  “OK, why not.”

  “I thought I might find you here.”

  Toni suddenly appeared next to her, her hair arranged in an eighties-style high pony she kept insisting would come back in style any day now. She’d stayed at Tyler’s last night, so they hadn’t seen each other at home this morning.

  “And luckily for you, I have a few minutes before work.”

  “I thought your aunt hired a new girl to get you Sundays off—”

  “She quit.”

  Alessandra hated when Toni worked seven days a week. Between her job at her aunt and uncle’s gift shop, Ye Old Curiosities, and her shifts at Murphy’s, the girl worked her butt off despite the fact that their rent was low, her aunt being the owner of the house and all. But tell her to take a break, and Toni would have none of it.

  “But more importantly, we need to chat.”

  Alessandra paid for her drink and took it from Sam. Without asking, he started making Toni’s drink next. Although Toni was the one who’d turned Alessandra on to chai lattes, she never ordered them when they were out. For some reason, she always stuck with Earl Grey.

  One of her many quirks.

  “Let me guess. There are at least eight reasons why you’d like to kill me?”