Fanged Love

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  And then the world goes black.

  Boz

  “Shit,” Neli says, walking into the room and shutting the door behind her. “How are we going to come back from this one?”

  Stella is unconscious on the floor, the blanket falling off her. I scoop her up and tuck her into bed. I stare at the bite marks on her neck. I stopped myself. I don’t know where I found the control, but I did it. It must be that I could never destroy my true mate. I’m sure that’s what she is. Our heartbeats were in perfect rhythm while I drank from her, and when she climaxed, I could swear I felt it too. Her every moan and quake were like my own.

  I’m done for. From this day forward, I somehow know my entire world will revolve around her.

  I look over at Neli, who’s now standing on the other side of the bed. “You were right. She is my mate.”

  “No. Really?” Neli rubs the back of her neck. “Well, you know I love to hear I’m right, Boz, but now we have a teensy problem: She just saw you kill a man. That might not be so easy for a modern person to handle. This isn’t like back when you ruled eight hundred years ago with unlimited power. Back then you were the boss, and it was accepted that you had the right to punish as you saw fit.”

  “I never stopped being the boss.”

  She grimaces. “Okay. Fine. But there are laws against killing. And those laws apply even to you.”

  “I do not have to obey human laws. I am a vampire.”

  “I get that, but the laws are a reflection of human values. They are not okay with witnessing people die. It really freaks them out.”

  We both stare at Stella looking so innocent lying in my bed, her lashes fanning over her pale cheeks.

  And then I understand what Neli is trying to say. “She’ll think I’m a monster.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Neli says. “But maybe if you explain. Tell her who and what you are; she’ll understand the way of it.”

  She sounds as uncertain as I feel. But what choice do I have? She will walk away if she believes I’m a killer. But vampires have a code. We never kill those who don’t deserve it. This vampire hunter deserved to die. He and his cohorts violated Stella’s family home, putting her and her family at risk in his zeal to stalk me. I had to rid the earth of him.

  Stella stirs with a soft sound. “She’s waking,” I whisper to Neli, who gestures for me to get in there and try to undo the damage.

  I sit on the mattress next to Stella. “Hello, my sweet. Are you all right? Can you hear me?”

  “Gah!” Stella scrambles to a sitting position, yanking the covers up to her chin. “Get away from me! What. Are. You?” The terror and confusion in her eyes are palpable.

  I will break the news gently. Which part would be less terrifying to her? Is she more afraid of vampires or killers?

  “What. Are. You?” she repeats.

  “I am Prince Bozhidar Alexandru of Transylvania.” I rise and bow.

  “I-I thought your first name was Prince. You’re an actual prince?” Her gaze darts to Neli for confirmation.

  I find it odd that her mind is skipping over more pressing matters, such as, I just killed a man in front of her. She must be in shock.

  Neli backs up a step. “I’ll leave this conversation to the two of you.”

  “Don’t go,” Stella says, fear laced in her voice. I can hear her rapid pulse.

  “I’ll be back in a few,” Neli says, shooting me a significant look. She will take care of the body. This top floor has my room and Neli’s servant quarters next door so she can see to my needs. I’m sure that’s where she’s taking him.

  I hear her grunt and then grumble as she attempts to move him. She’s not as strong as I am. Stella’s eyes widen at the sounds even she can hear.

  “I will be right back, sweet Stella. Everything will be explained.”

  I use my speed to lift the body swiftly up and out the door. Neli follows me, opening the door to her room for me.

  Just as I return to my room, I notice Neli has followed.

  “Maybe I should stay in your room while you talk to her, Boz,” Neli says. “For moral support. While you wipe her memory. You can explain who you are when you think she’s ready.”

  “I will not resort to trickery. She’s my mate, and the sooner she understands what that entails, the sooner she can come to terms with it. Now, go.”

  “But she’s terrified of you.”

  I clench my jaw. Perhaps for once I should listen to Neli. I have never dealt with a mate before, and I wish for this to go smoothly. “Very well. Stay. She will learn by your calm example. She trusts you.”

  We return to the bed, but Stella isn’t there. She’s fully dressed, staring out the window. At least she didn’t leave.

  “Stella, you might want to take a seat,” Neli says.

  I watch as my mate moves in a daze and sinks heavily into a nearby chair.

  I sit on the bed across from her, but she refuses to meet my eyes. Neli remains standing by my side, showing her loyalty. “Stella.”

  She slowly lifts her head. “You killed a man.”

  “Stella, I am very aware of your feelings on the shocking matter we are about to discuss. I merely ask that you keep an open mind and hear me out before jumping to any conclusions.”

  Stella continues staring, but doesn’t argue. Perhaps a good sign.

  I clear my throat. “The supernatural world you once spoke of is real. It is not fiction. It is not an invention of wild human imaginations. It is very real, and I am an eight-hundred-year-old vampire, but I only kill those who deserve it. And you, my sweet Stella, are my mate.”

  Stella’s brows shoot up.

  “It’s true,” Neli puts in. “All of the signs are there. The witch’s curse was lifted when you returned home. He woke from the five-hundred-year nap he was forced into.”

  Stella blinks rapidly. “Witches? Vampires? You expect me to believe any of this nonsense? I know what you are, Boz. You’re a killer.” She narrows her eyes at Neli. “And you’re an accomplice.”

  “I know it’s hard to process,” Neli says gently. “I told you he had supernatural powers of seduction. You felt that was true, right?”

  Stella strokes her neck where I bit her, her brows furrowed.

  “Stella, with time—” I start.

  She stands abruptly. “I’d like to leave now.”

  “Of course you are free to go,” I say.

  She nods once and walks briskly to the door. I appear at her side in a flash and open it for her. She does a double take at my swift movement. I want her to see my powers in small doses until her mind is ready to accept the full truth.

  “I will see you tomorrow at sundown at the competition,” I say.

  Her mouth opens and then closes before she bolts, her heart hammering loudly enough to make my own chest ache.

  “Well,” I turn to Neli, “that went better than I imagined.”

  Neli groans and shakes her head. “I’ll go take care of the body.”

  “Shouldn’t you go speak to Stella? Pre-immortal woman to post-immortal woman?” Couldn’t hurt for Neli to do a little selling on the perks of being mated to a vampire. For example, the sex is amazing and we have excellent taste in wine—something that could only prove to be advantageous to her family.

  “Give her some space to digest; she’ll come around.” Neli sounds more hopeful now, but the look in Stella’s eyes gives me cause to worry.

  “But you will talk to her. Yes?” I press. “You will make her understand how important she is and that her feelings for me are real.” I know Stella senses our connection. She has to. The question is, will she embrace it, or will her fear of the supernatural destroy a love that I now know has been missing from my life for over eight hundred years?

  Neli’s green eyes are intense. “Trust me, Boz, there is nothing more important to me than this. I want to be free. And if that means getting her on board, then consider it done.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  S
tella

  The next day, Friday, I tour the exhibition hall with my parents for the competition that means so much for the future of my family’s vineyard, and all I can think about is Boz. He’s a killer, yet he claims this fantastical story, trying to convince me I’m his mate. I could never be his mate. Who even says that? Does he mean wife? I could never marry a cold-blooded killer.

  The judges are making their way through the tables set up for tastings in their three-piece suits and fancy dresses. Our fate lies in their hands. My parents are talking excitedly about some of the tastings they’ve done at a table set up with last year’s winners. The wine is available for sale there. What if that’s us next year? How huge would that be to return in triumph and dazzle all the fellow vintners?

  And it never would’ve happened without Boz’s help. He went above and beyond taking the time to work on a blend for us using his award-winning wine, arranging for this trip, paying for everything. I can’t reconcile the man I thought he was and the man I saw last night. My mind rebels instantly at the idea of him being a vampire, sucking that man dry. That can’t be what I saw. He must’ve broken that man’s neck using his powerful jaw. That’s the only thing that makes sense. He bit me too, but that was sex play. I’d be dead if he was a bloodsucking vampire, right? Just like that man. Chills rush through me, and I cross my arms, rubbing them.

  “Stella, are you okay?” Mom asks. “I thought you’d be more excited about today. There’s so much we can learn from these other wineries.”

  “Sorry. Jet lag. I’ll get some coffee and be good as new.”

  My parents give me matching looks of concern. “You just don’t sound like yourself,” Dad says. “Your voice is monotone.”

  “There’s a lot riding on today. I’m anxious.”

  My dad rubs his hands together. “Me too, but we can only go up from here. I’m so thankful to Boz and Neli. Have you seen them?”

  Boz’s voice echoes in my mind: I’ll see you at sunset tomorrow. Vampires awaken at sunset.

  I shake away the bizarre thought. There’s a reason I’ve been terrified of vampires since childhood, and it all comes down to a late-night movie and the poor timing of my cousin scaring me. Everything is perfectly explainable and in the realm of reality. Boz is not a vampire.

  “I’ll get us both coffee, Stella,” Dad says. “You want one, hon?”

  My mom shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’m going to check in on the twins. They wanted to explore the shops. Stella, take notes on the marketing materials over at the winners’ table. There might be something useful for us.”

  “Sure.” I wave in farewell as they leave the exhibition hall. I head over to the row of winners’ tables.

  I taste a few wines, chatting with the representatives, and take some brochures. I need to focus on business, not last night. I’d like to erase last night from my mind completely. I shift to the side, discreetly taking pictures with my phone of some wine labels, and head to the next table, taking a brochure. Wait. I know this medieval castle.

  My head jerks up, and I meet Neli’s eyes across the table. They won last year, so of course she’d be here representing them.

  “Ever wonder why there’s a medieval castle sitting in the middle of California wine country?” she asks.

  The illogical pieces slide together in my mind as I stare at the picture of the castle on the brochure. This isn’t a reproduction. It’s the real deal, an eight-hundred-year-old castle belonging to an eight-hundred-year-old man, who used to dress in a top hat and cape. Like in olden times.

  Not an eccentric billionaire recluse.

  Not a goth musician in hiding.

  An eight-hundred-year-old man. There’s no question in my mind he’s a man. I saw him in his full naked glory. Somehow he found the fountain of youth. That must be it.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose as I feel a headache forming. Neli’s suddenly at my side, signaling for a young woman to take her place at the table. She must’ve brought an assistant. Of course she couldn’t run an award-winning vineyard single-handedly. I focus on this fact instead of the larger one that makes my head hurt. It’s just not possible. No human can live that long.

  “Let’s go someplace quiet for a chat,” Neli says, guiding me from the noisy exhibit space. “We’ll sit outside. There’s a nice bench under a shade tree. How does that sound?”

  I follow numbly, grateful for her soothing voice. My nerves have been jangled all day. I barely slept last night, and when I did sleep, I had nightmares of blood everywhere, a man screaming while I watched in frozen horror, knowing I could be next.

  A short while later, we’re seated on the bench. It’s a warm day with a light breeze. The spot is secluded, no one else around. A calm oasis.

  “How are you feeling today?” she asks.

  “Exhausted, frazzled, stressed out of my mind.”

  “Competition has that effect on everyone.”

  I lift my brows, giving her a pointed look.

  “Okay, okay, I’m here to talk you through a different kind of reality. Let me start by saying I am so sorry about the way you found out. That was a shock to the system, and you didn’t deserve that.”

  “Thank you.” Why am I being polite to a killer’s accomplice? I should be running straight to the authorities. But something stops me. I want to believe they’re the good people I’ve come to know.

  “Let me start at the very beginning…”

  I listen as she tells me the most fantastical tale about Prince Bozhidar, how he came to be the form he is now from his humble beginnings, how he took her in when she was a child and treated her well, and how life has been for them in the centuries they’ve been bonded together.

  “No human lives eight hundred years,” I say stubbornly. “You’re human. Completely normal.” There’s no way Neli is a vampire. She’s a beautiful woman in her twenties. Someone I would consider a friend. “And, to be totally honest, I don’t appreciate being lied to like this.” Especially because I don’t understand why they’re doing it.

  “I’m not lying, Stella. I’m immortal,” she says. “I’m bonded to Boz, and I can only leave him when he releases me.”

  I snort. This whole thing is an insult to my intelligence. Vampires. Immortality. Bonds. Stupid! “Oh. And I suppose you’re hoping I’ll step into your place and be bonded to him for the next eight hundred years. And then what? He bonds with someone else and sets me free? That sounds like slavery.”

  “I am his slave,” she says on a sigh.

  “What? That monster! You do all this hard work making his vineyard an award winner and he doesn’t even pay you? Neli, you can’t allow him to treat you like that!” And why am I even having this conversation? It’s not like I can believe a word she says. She and Boz are liars and killers.

  “I’m going to explain slowly and carefully. All I ask is that you keep an open mind, okay?”

  I nod, but really I’m thinking about how I’m going to keep my family safe from these two psychos who’ve become entrenched in our lives.

  “When my parents gave me to him as a child, he never used me or turned me. He bonded me to him with a blood ritual. Our lives are tied, and now I cannot die unless he kills me. And, Stella, I want to die. I’ve been around longer than I ever dreamed possible. I want my freedom even if it means through death.”

  I squeeze her arm. I might not believe in this whole vampire thing, but I believed her just now about wanting death. “Oh, Neli, I don’t want you to die. Is there someone I can call? Do you have a therapist?” Maybe she’s supposed to be on meds and forgot them back home. That would explain her state of temporary insanity and longing for death.

  “I’m not suicidal, Stella. I’m immortal, and death is different when you’re immortal. Death is a relief. I have lived in that same damned castle for over five hundred years, doing the same damned thing year after year—take care of vampire, run vampire’s business, move vampire’s castle, hide vampire and myself from world. I’m tired of working!
And, honestly, my only other option is to become a vampire, which would happen if I tried to end my own life or someone else killed me.”

  “Let me get this straight. You believe your options are to die, become a vampire, or be his slave for eternity?” She needs help.

  “I’m actually Boz’s majordomo.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I run the household,” she says proudly. “I’m at the top of the servant hierarchy.” At my confused look, she adds, “It’s a medieval thing.”

  “But I never saw other servants.”

  She huffs. “Can you give me a little dignity here? I prefer having a title to being called slave.”

  “Oh, of course, sorry.” I try not to let my true feelings show through—she’s nuts!—and she should be in therapy. As for the fantasies she and Boz share, I think they’re engrained in some sort of delusion to justify their psychotic, killer tendencies.

  “You still don’t believe me, do you?” Neli asks.

  I stare blankly. I hate lying. I truly do. But I don’t know if she’s mentally stable enough to hear the truth.

  “Fine. Here.” Neli grabs my hand and sandwiches it between hers. The look in her green eyes is suddenly intense, almost hypnotic. In an instant, I feel an energy pulsing through my hand, up my arm, and into my body. My heart starts pounding, and images of Boz flood my mind. Him dressed in a black velvet suit, riding under a moonlit night, slashing his sword at a pack of hissing men with long incisors. “You feel that? That buzzing? That’s Boz’s blood in my veins. You can feel it because you’re his mate. You’re destined to be with him.”

  I jerk my hand away. She said nothing about the vision I just had, but yes, the buzzing was there. And just like that, something clicks in my mind. I know she’s telling me the truth. I feel it in my heart, like I feel Boz. It’s almost as if he’s always been there, but my mind couldn’t see it.

  “Holy shit,” I mutter. “Boz is a vampire.” And that means Neli is an immortal human. I swallow hard and mutter, “Majordomo is a very nice title.”