by I. T. Lucas
Perfect Match 1: Vampire’s Consort
I. T. Lucas
Copyright © 2019 by I. T. Lucas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
Perfect Match 1: Vampire’s Consort
is a work of fiction!
Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any similarity to actual persons, organizations and/or events is purely coincidental.
Contents
1. Gabriel
2. Brenna
3. Gabriel
4. Brenna
5. Gabriel
6. Brenna
7. Gabriel
8. Brenna
9. Rena
10. Brel
11. Rena
12. Brel
13. Rena
14. Brel
15. Rena
16. Gabriel
17. Brenna
18. Gabriel
Epilogue
Perfect Match 2: King’s Chosen
Also by I. T. Lucas
FOR EXCLUSIVE PEEKS
1
Gabriel
Gabriel turned his swivel chair around and gazed out of his office windows at the darkening sky. In less than an hour, he would know whether his and Hunter’s insane dream was all over.
The future of the revolutionary technology they’d been developing for past six years depended on the decision of one man.
Their enigmatic investor was either going to pour more money into the startup or cut his losses short and pull out.
William, the programmer the guy had sent to help them out, had been working on the software for the entire week. Hopefully, his recommendation wasn’t going to be the death sentence Gabriel feared.
When William had scheduled the first-ever meeting between them and his boss, he hadn’t provided any hints, and his expression had been impossible to read.
Hunter was sure that it was a negotiating tactic, and that the guy had managed to solve their problem but wasn’t going to share unless they capitulated to his boss’s demands.
The investor wanted a controlling share in their company, and if his programmer held the key to its survival, they would have no choice but to sell their brain-child in order to keep it alive.
Gabriel hoped that Hunter was right, and that the big man himself was coming to meet them to close the deal and not as a courtesy to a dying enterprise.
In addition to the millions of personal funds that he and Hunter had sunk into the startup, which had been everything they’d gotten from selling their successful virtual gaming software, they had used up all the additional millions the mystery investor had put into the development.
And yet, they were a year behind schedule.
The beta testing should’ve been done by now, and the company should’ve been up and running.
Turning the swivel chair around, Gabriel glanced at the bottom drawer of his desk. The bottle of scotch he kept there was calling to him.
Except, drinking before an important meeting was a bad idea. He needed to be sharp.
Fortunately, scotch wasn’t his only stress management strategy. There was another way he could relax.
Pulling out his phone, Gabriel found the right channel on YouTube, pressed play, and got comfortable in his chair. When nothing else worked, listening to his favorite doctor explain anatomy and physiology to young children did. Brenna’s soothing, melodic voice always managed to calm his nerves.
“Stalking the pretty doctor again?”
Immersed in the Brenna experience, Gabriel hadn’t heard the door open, or Hunter come in.
“It’s not stalking when I watch videos that she puts out for the general viewing public.”
Plopping on one of the visitors’ chairs, Hunter put his Frappuccino cup on Gabriel's desk. “You’ve been obsessing about this woman since high school. I don’t understand why you haven’t called her up already. Since when are you afraid of making a move?”
When he and Hunter had met senior year in Caltech, Gabriel was no longer the awkward, gangly and pimply kid he’d been in high school. Not that he’d been a great looker at twenty-one, but at least the damn pimples were gone.
“She didn’t know I was alive back then, and she doesn't now. What am I going to tell her? That I’m a fan of her YouTube videos?”
Hunter shook his head. “That’s why you should’ve gone to your high school reunions. There is no better place to meet an old crush, and you know that she’s not married because you stalk her Facebook page as well.”
That was true. But there had been plenty of reasons not to attend. At first, it had been about his uninspiring looks. So yeah, he’d lost the pimples, but not much else had improved until he’d started a rigorous Krav Maga training regimen.
The thirty-pound muscle gain had turned him from a six feet three inches hunched-over scarecrow into someone women desired, even without knowing that he was a successful entrepreneur and loaded.
Not that he was. Not anymore. That money was long gone, all spent on his and Hunter’s crazy idea to provide a different kind of fully-immersive virtual experience. A fantasy fulfillment for adults.
They had dove into it head first, not surfacing until six years later when they’d gotten stuck and couldn’t find a way over the hurdle they’d encountered. The code they needed just didn’t exist.
Until William showed up.
Hunter rubbed his chin. “You can hire her as a medical advisor. We need someone to test the monitoring equipment.”
It had been done already, but only during the limited alpha stage. They needed to run more tests during the full-immersion beta testing. It could be a good excuse when they were actually ready for beta, which they were nowhere near.
“There is nothing for her to check until we can hook up volunteers to the machines. And since the machines are not working, I have nothing to show her.”
But Hunter’s suggestions to attend a reunion wasn’t a bad idea, and his timing was perfect. There had been an email about it a week or so ago. Gabriel’s next high school reunion was coming up in less than two months.
His fascination with Brenna Hutchison had started in their junior year, and fourteen years later Gabriel was still just as obsessed with her as ever, if not more.
It was time he did something about it.
Hunter smirked. “At some point, they will work, and then there will be plenty for you to show her.” He waggled his brows.
Gabriel ignored the insinuating remark. Even if the virtual machines were up and running, he wasn’t going to hook Brenna up to one and chance her finding her perfect match from the pool of volunteers.
“You’re an optimist, Hunter. You should brace for the possibility that this is never going to work. Our investor might pull the plug.”
“No, I’m a realist. I’ve peeked over William’s shoulder while he was working on fixing the code. I’ve never seen anything like it. The guy must be an alien with coding skills lightyears more advanced than ours.”
“Right.” Hunter and his alien theories. “I hope your alien is not going to sell our proprietary technologies to our competitors.”
To guard against piracy, the Dream Encounters team had been working offline for the entire six years of its existence. There were too many stories in the startup universe about people investing endless time and resources into a new product, and then someone stealing the work from them and going to market with it before them.
/> Still, word of what they were working on had gotten out, and four burglary attempts had been made in the last year alone. Evidently, when hacking didn’t work, the crooks resorted to old fashioned thievery.
Hunter snorted. “As far as William is concerned, we have nothing worth stealing. As I said, he rewrote in one week what several of our teams have been working on for six years.”
“If that was true, he and his boss wouldn’t be interested in our company. They’d be doing it themselves. William might be a genius coder, but it doesn’t make him an inventor.” Gabriel tapped his temple. “That requires vision, imagination, and a hefty dose of crazy.”
That got Hunter thinking. “Yeah, you’re probably right. We came up with the revolutionary idea for virtual experiences and almost figured out a way to make it happen. William just fixed what we did wrong.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, though. I had him sign the same confidentiality agreement that we have all of our team members signed on. It’s ironclad.”
Nothing was ironclad. And if information found its way to their competitors, it would be difficult to prove who’d leaked it.
When the intercom buzzed, Gabriel’s gut clenched.
“Showtime,” Hunter said.
Their receptionist came on line. “William and his boss are here.”
Was it his imagination, or did his sixty-five-year-old aunt Barbara sound a little flustered?
“We will be right out.”
“Okay.”
Gabriel got up, put his suit jacket on, and smoothed a hand over his hair. “Ready?”
Hunter nodded.
Plastering twin friendly expressions on their faces, Gabriel and Hunter walked out of his office and then stopped dead in their tracks.
Damn.
No wonder Barbara was blushing like a schoolgirl.
While his aunt gazed dreamily at William’s boss and the two guys who were probably his bodyguards, the object of her fascination looked like he was about to kill something. Or someone.
Gabriel felt as if he was facing off with a tiger and wondering whether he was hungry. In comparison, the bodyguards seemed tame. Well, maybe not the blond. That guy looked lethal. The huge redhead, on the other hand, smiled and winked at Barbara, causing her to giggle like a young girl.
Who were these people?
Maybe they were actors? Or rather movie stars with millions to invest in promising startups?
One could never tell in Los Angeles. And that would also explain why no names had been provided. Up until now, they’d been dealing with an investment company and the executives representing William’s boss.
Regrettably, though, Gabriel hadn’t been watching much of anything for the past six years, and he was unfamiliar with Hollywood’s latest stars. Given the way Hunter was staring at their guests, neither had he.
“Hello, I’m Gabriel Barnes.” He offered the boss his hand.
The guy was taller than him by an inch or so, and his blue eyes were so intense that Gabriel was sure he was wearing contacts. That, and what must have been many hundreds of thousands in plastic surgery done by the best surgeons in the world, made him look otherworldly.
Hunter was probably mumbling “alien” under his breath.
“Kian.” The god-like man shook what he’d been offered.
Weird name that was probably fake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mr. Kian.”
“Just Kian.” The guy didn’t smile.
“As you wish.” Gabriel turned to Hunter. “And this is my partner, Hunter Anderson.”
2
Brenna
“Brenna! Oh my gosh!” Sally barreled toward her. “You haven’t changed a bit!” Pulling her into a crushing hug, she kissed her on both cheeks.
“You too. I mean, you haven’t changed at all.” Except for the fifty pounds or so weight gain. “It’s so wonderful to see you after all these years.”
Poor Sally.
She’d always been on one diet or another, but nothing had ever worked. She’d lose a bit and then gain double as much back.
“You have to meet my husband, Drew.” Sally waved a chubby guy over. “Drew, come say hi to my friend Brenna.”
“Nice to meet you.” He offered her his hand.
Shaking it, Brenna smiled. “Same here.” She pretended to look for someone. “I’ll have to catch you later. I think I see Jana.” She scurried away before Sally had a chance to stop her.
They hadn’t seen each other in twelve years, and even before that, they hadn’t been great friends. But Sally had always been like that. Sweet and well-meaning, but overbearing in her exuberance.
In contrast, Brenna was quiet and bookish, and excitable people like Sally overwhelmed her.
After several more encounters like this, Brenna was itching to put on her big sunglasses and gather her long curly hair in a bun so no one would recognize her. She hated having to pretend that she’d missed people she barely recognized and with whom she’d exchanged no more than a few words throughout high school.
Attending a high school reunion without a date had been a stupid idea, which was why she’d skipped all the previous ones. Well, that and not having time to take a break from the rat race.
For the past twelve years, her life had been all about her goal of becoming a doctor, and while she’d been chasing that dream, it seemed like life had passed her by.
Almost everyone was married or already on their second round after a divorce. She was probably the only idiot who’d come alone. In lieu of a husband, she should’ve glued her diploma to her forehead. At least it would have saved her from having to explain why she was still single at thirty.
She should have known it would suck.
The truth was that Brenna had come for only one reason.
For years she’d wondered what had become of Gabriel, the boy whose gaze had followed her around throughout junior and senior years, but who’d never gathered up the nerve to approach her.
Not that she would’ve dated him if he had.
Her life had been all about getting the best grades and participating in as many extracurricular activities as possible. The acceptance rate to top-notch colleges had been and still was ridiculously low, and Brenna’s singular focus in high school had been a college application that would stand out from the crowd.
Still, she’d never stopped thinking about Gabriel and imagining what he was doing with himself.
Such an interesting guy.
Confident academically and competitive as heck, but so shy with girls. Other than his intense, intelligent eyes, he hadn’t been much to look at, but she’d seen potential others hadn’t. As a teenager, he’d been much too thin for his tall body, spindly and a little hunched over. But she’d noticed that his shoulders were broad and that the face under all the pimples was handsome.
While the guys who’d been popular in high school were now padded around the middle and balding, Gabriel’s looks had probably improved with age.
Mostly, though, Brenna was curious about what he had done with himself. Such a smart and driven guy must have achieved a lot over the last twelve years. She had even googled his name, but had found nothing.
Maybe he’d changed it?
With a sigh, Brenna snatched a cup of punch off a tray and found a vacant chair to sit on. Her feet were killing her. She couldn’t wait to kick off the torturous shoes she’d bought for this occasion.
She was a sneakers and clogs kind of girl. Not stilettos.
Regrettably, her efforts to look good had been wasted because Gabriel hadn’t shown up. In fact, the entire trip was senseless. The guy was probably married with two kids and a dog.
Blessing the long table cloth, she slid her aching feet out of the high-heeled shoes and stretched her toes. Barely able to stifle the moan of pure bliss, Brenna closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She’d give her feet a few moments of rest and then head back to her hotel room.
“Hello, gorgeous,” a familiar voice said, one she’d hoped n
ot to hear tonight. “Looking even better than I remembered. How have you been?” Corey reached for her hand and lifted it. “I don’t see a wedding ring.” He sing-songed.
She plastered a sweet smile on her face and glanced at his hand. “But I see one on yours. Where is your wife, Corey?”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Running to pee for the twentieth time tonight. Didn’t you see a hippo lumbering around?”
“I see that you’re as charming as ever, Corey. But calling your pregnant wife a hippo is a new low even for you.”
Apparently, people didn’t change much over the years, and Corey was still the same asshole he’d been in high school, just minus the good looks.
“And you’re still a stuck-up bitch. Nothing new there. But I’ll do you anyway.” He lifted her hand to his lips and licked the back of it.
She yanked it away. “Ugh, gross.”
Laughing like a hyena, he rose to his feet. “See ya, Brenna.”
It was time to go even though it meant pushing her poor feet back into the torturous shoes. She needed to find a bathroom, wash her hand, and call an Uber.
The line to the bathroom was more than twenty ladies long, and even though she only needed to get to the sink, Brenna waited her turn while shifting her weight from foot to foot to try and ease the discomfort.
“Heels are a pain in the butt, but they make it look good.” The woman behind her chuckled. “I’m Cheryl, Matt Grager’s wife.”
“Brenna.” She lifted her hand but then remembered why she was standing in line. “I would offer you my hand, but I spilled punch all over it.”
“Bummer. At least it didn’t get on your dress.”