Death's Servant (The V V Inn, First Prequel Book)

by C. J. Ellisson

  Rafe gives me a slip of paper with a phone number on it. “Here’s my cell. I’ll be in the gym for a while and then maybe hanging in the lobby. I don’t think you’ll need to call, but just in case.”

  I look around the empty living area. “Okay. What do I do until she gets up?”

  Rafe shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “You’ve got to be tired, right? Why not take a nap on the couch.”

  The idea of sleeping when the hungry vampire fifteen feet away could wake at any time unsettles me. I shudder, but don’t voice my anxiety. “I’ll watch TV. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I’m not.” He turns to leave and hesitates, turning back. “Listen, Jon. Dria was right that you could lose a bit of yourself in the bond. It’s different for everyone.”

  “Did it happen to you?”

  “No, but I’m not her servant. I’m her mate. We won’t know for sure how you’re affected until it’s done.”

  “And then what happens?”

  “We deal with it.” And with that parting comment, he leaves.

  I return to the same couch I sat on a little while ago, debate on raiding the mini bar for liquid courage, but in the end I refrain and watch TV with the volume turned low. Somehow getting drunk when I’m trying to entice a vampire to bite me doesn’t sound like a good idea.

  There’s a rerun of some pivotal football game from last season on cable and watching it requires little effort on my part. Gradually, my full stomach and the constant running from the past week catch up with me and my eyes drift lower. A peaceful relaxed feeling descends upon me, luring me to imagine the next couple of hours won’t be so bad.

  With a jolt I awake, Dria’s intense green eyes staring at me from a few inches away. “What are you doing here, wolfman?”

  I sit up, fumbling to turn off the TV in my haste. “I’m here to honor my end of the bargain.”

  “Isn’t that interesting.” Her fangs are fully descended when she speaks, but she doesn’t lisp or stutter around the longer canines. “By my husband’s absence, it’s safe to guess he put you up to this?”

  “We spoke earlier, yes. But it’s the right thing to do. I made a promise and I intend to stand by it.”

  She waves off my words with a delicate gesture of one slim hand. “Pish-posh. You think I really care about that little deal we made?” She studies her perfect manicure. “You need to leave. Now.”

  “No.”

  Her gaze hardens, a glitter of her anger and restraint leaking in for me to witness. “Did you just tell me ‘no’?”

  I stretch out, putting my legs out in front of me, like I haven’t a care in the world. Damn, this provoking a vampire shit makes me feel like I’m walking a tightrope over a river filled with crocs and piranha. Feigning nonchalance is harder than I thought. “Yup, I did. Guess your well-trained husband doesn’t deny you much, huh Dria?”

  In a split second she leaps and pins me to the back of the couch. Her mouth opens wide, salvia dripping off her sharp teeth to splatter upon my cheek. “Don’t insult Rafe. He is no one’s lap-dog. Least of all, mine.”

  “Hey, you’re drooling there.” I casually wipe my cheek. “Might want to watch that.”

  A short scream rips from her as she pushes away from me, shoving me into the cushion in her frustration. “Goddammit, Rafe! Where the hell are you?!”

  She begins to pace back and forth across the room, her movements stiff and jerky.

  “Come on, Dria. Just bite me and take what you need.”

  “Is that what this is all about?” She whirls around to face me, her hunger straining her every muscle. “I can resist you if I must. I’ve survived worse hunger than this before.”

  “I’m sure you have.” I pat the couch next to me, indicating she should take a seat near me. She ignores me and goes back to pacing. “But why resist when you don’t have to? Why not let me take some of your burden and feed you from my strength?”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking!”

  I stand and approach her, still giving her a few feet safe distance. “Dria, look at me.” Her gaze flicks briefly in my direction then jerks away. “I do know what I’m offering. I’m offering to pledge myself to you. To let you gain strength from me to use when you need it. To fight by your side no matter what the future holds.”

  “You make it sound so noble.” She snorts. “Sounds like some shit Rafe filled you with.” She continues to pace, her nervous energy driving her relentlessly. “It’s not noble to lose your free will. It’s not noble to put your needs before someone else’s. It’s not noble to want to give until you die!”

  I reach out and grab her arm, hauling her around to face me. Her jaw snaps shut with a snarl. “It is when you trust the person you give your loyalty to.”

  She looks to the floor, her chest heaving. “You don’t know me enough to give that kind of trust.”

  I give her a shake and force her attention on me. “You think so? Let me tell you what I do know—you have a husband who has stood by your side for well over fifty years. Would you say he gave his loyalty to you on a whim?”

  “No, never. Rafe is different.” Her eyes gaze off into the distance, past my shoulder. “He has experienced pain and suffering. He lived a life before he sought me out. He came to me knowing exactly what he was getting into. His eyes were wide open and his heart was pure.”

  “Well, I have no idea what life he led before marrying you, but I know my heart and mind on this.” I reach over to the table where Rafe ate his meal and snag a steak knife. “And the choice is mine.” I slice the serrated edge across my left wrist and watch the blood pool before running across my skin and dripping to the floor.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The smell of fresh spilled blood fills the air between us. Dria’s breathing becomes ragged as she stares at the red wrist of my hand on her arm. She shudders, but miraculously still resists.

  “Dear God,” she whispers. “Is that chocolate I smell?”

  I wait to see if she’ll act, but she doesn’t, just continues to stare at the wound. “You’re going to make every damn step difficult, aren’t you?” Confused green eyes look up at me, like she’s trying to process the sensory overload and make a responsible choice. I dip my fingers into the blood and reach toward her parted lips.

  “No,” she says, her voice a husky rasp of sound.

  I ignore her and smear the sticky red across her full bottom lip. Her tongue darts out to taste my offer and another hard shudder wracks her frame.

  “I don’t like this. I’m usually the one doing the manipulating. I get the distinct feeling you two are trying to manipulate me.”

  “Oh come on, Dria. I want this. Your husband wants this. Why can’t you give in?”

  “Because I don’t want to own you!” She tries to shake off my arm and this time it’s me who holds her firm, forcing her to face what she doesn’t want to see.

  “Listen, vampire. You don’t know me, but I think I’m strong enough to hold my own. I can’t know for sure if I’ll lose my free will, but I do trust you not to abuse me.” Her faces closes down, no emotion on its surface. I have an inkling as to why she might be resisting so hard. “Have you had a werewolf servant in the past?”

  She nods, the movement quick and jerky.

  “I take it things didn’t go well for him?” I ask.

  “It was a ‘her’ and yes, things ended badly.”

  “Wouldn’t it be safe to say you learned a lot from that bonding?” Her eyes search mine out again, uncertainty in their depths. “I bet whatever you think could have been done to change her fate has haunted you for years. Don’t close yourself from another servant because of what happened. Learn from it and try again with me.”

  Silence stretches between us while the blood on my arm congeals.

  “I do better with just Rafe in my life. I don’t want anymore responsibilities.”

  “Let me carry some of your burden. Let me in. We can make this work.”

  Her body loses som
e of its tension. “Are you sure?” she asks.

  As if I’m going to change my mind this late in the game. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Without another word she raises my wrist to her lips and feeds. With each pull from her mouth, my body floods with shockingly good feelings. It’s like an endorphin rush from intense exercising combined with the allure of incredibly satisfying sex, the type where you hang limp and enjoy the afterglow as long as it lasts.

  “Huh. I always wondered what the draw was to being bitten by one of you. Now I know.”

  She ignores me, completely engulfed in enjoying every drop she drains. In a moment the sexual surge dissipates to be replaced by the unmistakable feeling of pack. Warm furry bodies press against me in the woods, the odor of the fresh earth and scents of suitable prey to chase tickle my nose, and the hotel room fades into the background, along with the vampire sucking on my wrist.

  No one distinguishing scent reminds me of any wolf I’ve met. All of them meld together to give me a feeling I’ve missed since the night I was attacked and changed into a werewolf—a feeling of home. The revelation shocks me to my very core. How can this slip of a vampire make me feel like I’ve finally found were I need to be? Could I be destined to mate with a woman who already has a husband? Would the fates be so cruel?

  I try to block out the questions and relax into the experience. There’s nothing sexual about her feeding, more that I can’t shake the rightness I feel in this moment. Peace courses through me and I realize I’d follow this woman into the gates of Hell itself. And fight with every ounce of strength and cunning in me to bring us back alive.

  After a few minutes she stops, licking my wound with a pointed tongue to stop the bleeding. A heavy sigh escapes her as she straightens. “Damn, Jon. That was really good. You tasted like dark chocolate. It was heavenly.”

  I smile, fighting the overwhelming urge to ask her to bite me a second time. I want to feel that way again. I want to feel it always. “Glad to oblige.”

  “You and Rafe were pretty damn sneaky. I bet he told you to eat chocolate, didn’t he?”

  “I plead the fifth.”

  “Hmph. Well Jon, you just bought yourself a ticket home with us. I can’t promise things will always be smooth sailing between the three of us, but we can try our best and make sure we never lose respect for one another.”

  A thrill of excitement rushes through me at her simple words of acceptance. I did it. I got her to take my offer. “And where might home be?”

  “Alaska.”

  ~~*~~

  About the Author: C.J. Ellisson is the USA Today Bestselling author of the New York Times Bestselling book, Vanilla on Top, the bestselling V V Inn series, and several erotica shorts. She lives in northern Virginia with her husband, two children, two dogs, and a fluffy black cat who makes her sneeze. Unlike most full-time authors, she's also battling severe chronic illness. C.J. works daily to put her Lupus into remission and continues to fight numerous bacterial infections while her immune system slowly attacks her body. She turned to writing when she could no longer work outside the home and claims the escape of penning contemporary fantasy, erotica, and erotic romance has helped save her sanity.

  Death’s Servant is the first prequel book in the V V Inn series and there are currently six novels and four prequel novellas planned, with more to be added if there is enough reader interest.

  Please, stop by the author’s website (http://www.cjellisson.com) and sign up for her email distribution or “friendship rate” list to find out when the next book in the series will be available for three days only at 99 cents. C.J. is also available via skype for interviews and book club question & answer sessions.

  Do you miss signed books? C.J. offers free, full-color signed 4x6 postcards of all her novels to readers who’ve left honest reviews on any retailer or book reviewing website. To obtain yours, please email your review URLs to admin@cjellisson.com with your mailing address, international readers welcome.

  Acknowledgements

  This book was written at reader request. I’m thrilled to finally be able to share one of the early V V Inn tales with all of you! Of course, in typical neurotic-writer fashion, I imagined all the juicy facts before I ever attempted to write the initial V V Inn books. It felt fantastic to discover my readers wanted to hear the creative histories I have swirling around in my head. As long as you all want to keep reading, I will do my best to keep writing these prequels.

  I had about thirty dedicated alpha readers in my facebook group for this story. Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts and help me create a better story. If it didn’t turn out the way you’d hoped, I’ll take the full blame ;-)

  Big thank you to my most awesome editor, Tina Winograd. Your friendship and guidance in my work means a lot to me and I’m grateful to have you in my life.

  As always, the biggest thanks goes to my husband, Pete. Your support during this last year as we struggle with medical bills and take out loans while we wait for royalties has been incredible. Thank you for every dinner, every load of wash, every trip the the store, and every reminder that I need to breathe and slow down. You’re my reason for trying to succeed as a writer—so that some day I’ll help support the family as much as you do.

  Table of Contents

  Section 1