Blood Song: Prelude (Blood Song Series Book 1)

by Charli B. Rose

  “I see.”

  “And I noticed the sexy stubble along your jaw,” she said softly as she wiggled one of her hands loose from mine and reached up to gently trace my jawline, flushing crimson in embarrassment.

  My heart skipped a beat as it felt like a match touched my skin. The skipped beat took me aback. I’d become quite in tune with my heart’s rhythms once I was changed. It beat slowly on a normal basis, a rate that would never sustain life in a human body. It sped up when I was aroused. I could will it to stop for a while if the need arose. But when beating, it never lost its perfect rhythm. And it had never skipped a beat.

  “And I thought about your muscles,” she announced with a harrumph and dropped her hand from my face.

  “So, you found I have a few pleasing characteristics?” My chest puffed out with pride.

  She smirked at me. “Just a few.”

  I leaned forward to close the space between our faces again. “If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll let you find out if your thoughts are true. You know, test your hypotheses.”

  A ghost of a smile played across her face as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Everything this girl did had the potential to drive me to distraction. It was the oddest sensation. I felt like I needed medication to force myself to concentrate. I’d always been single-minded in my focus, my thoughts never straying. It seemed I’d be learning some new rules over the coming weeks.

  “Ok,” she said in a voice so soft, that had I not possessed super hearing, I wouldn’t have heard her at all.

  She’d been more honest with me than I expected, even at the expense of her self-consciousness. It was time to explain some things to her.

  “You were right. There are quite a few women who’d be viable options to take out in public. But I don’t want to deal with trying to untangle myself from any of them in the future when I no longer need help. Any one of the women from my life would be more than happy to exploit a fake relationship in order to get more from me. I don’t want a clingy girl cramping my style. I needed someone to help with marketing my music to the current generation, so I figured I could hire someone for that role. Then pretend to develop a relationship with her, so I could begin to build a public façade. I figured if I hired someone who understood the job description up front, then there’d be no danger of entanglements forming. That’s why I did it this way.”

  She sat back from me and blinked rapidly, seeming to try to digest my words. Something flashed across her eyes, but I didn’t have the ability to discern what it was. I greatly wanted to know what she was thinking, but I didn’t want to invade all her private thoughts.

  “I think I understand.”

  “Now, as for why I chose you . . . When you bumped into me on the street, you made an impression on me—and that’s rare. I encounter people all the time, and for the past, oh, one hundred and fifty years or more, not one has occupied more than a passing thought in my head. But you . . . I thought of you all day yesterday and today. I don’t understand it. But then when I saw you again at the gala, I just knew you were the one I had to make an offer to. You intrigue me in a way I haven’t been in nearly two hundred years. I had to explore that. Plus, you have the qualifications I need. So it all seemed to be fate.” I shrugged.

  She sat up straight, seeming to resolve something in her mind.

  “Whether luck, fate, kismet or God, I’m glad you put in an offer for me to consider. I think it’ll change both our lives.”

  “Me too,” I agreed.

  Though I wasn’t sure the force in the universe which crossed her path with mine was a force of good. Perhaps it was misfortune, infelicity, catastrophe or the devil. Something deep within me seemed to know she’d change me for the better, but the reverse wouldn’t be true for her. No force for good would put such a pure soul in the path of a monster from darkness like me. A power promoting goodness wouldn’t even put her on my radar.

  ♪ Monster by Starset

  But something threw her in my path, and thus put the greatest temptation in front of me I’d ever faced. And for once, I had to resist. I couldn’t give in to the urgings swimming to the surface. For Celesta’s sake, I had to drown my desires and all the other things awakening in me.

  I observed her the rest of the car ride. No more words were exchanged, though I could see that her mind was working on things. I desperately wanted to purchase her thoughts, but fear prevented me from doing so.

  In nearly two centuries, I couldn’t recall the last time I was afraid of anything. Yet here I was terrified to hear what this girl’s thoughts were—what she thought of what I’d said, what she thought of our agreement, what she thought of me. I was fearful I wouldn’t like what she had to say about it all. Instead, I just watched her, thankful to whatever force—good or evil—that put her in my line of fire.

  Finally, William pulled up to my home. The gate swung open quietly, and I watched her reaction to my home. I turned my gaze to it and tried to recall how I felt the first time I saw it. When I first passed by the empty estate, something drew me to it. It was dark that night, just like now. With very few stars in the sky, many of the details couldn’t be made out. In the shadows, I’d peered up at the regal-looking façade. My eyes saw beyond the peeling paint and cracked glass. I didn’t see the broken steps or the crooked shutters. I only saw home. I put in an offer the next morning and within a week, I’d moved in.

  I was snapped out of my reminiscing by Celesta’s soft exclamation. She’d thrown open her door before William could even come around the car.

  “I know why you prefer to stay home. This place is amazing. If I lived here, I wouldn’t want to leave either.”

  I liked the sound of her living here and not wanting to leave—some part of me wanted that too.

  “You can’t really appreciate it until you see it shining under the morning sun. I’ll give you a tour of the grounds in the morning.”

  “It is morning,” she pointed out.

  “So it is, but you have to see it in the sunlight. Some things are more breathtaking when the light shines on them.”

  “I can’t wait for you to show me later then.”

  William had parked in the circle by the front door. We stood there looking up at the front portico while he retrieved Celesta’s bags from the trunk. He carried them up the stone steps and through the front door. I placed my hand on the small of her back and guided her up onto the porch.

  Mrs. Burkett was waiting in the foyer when we stepped across the threshold. Mrs. Burkett had been with me for years. She was the only person, other than Circe and Celesta, who knew why Celesta was really here.

  “Mrs. Burkett, this is Celesta, my new hire. She’ll be staying here for several weeks, helping me rebuild my image. Please take as good care of her as you do me,” I said.

  She greeted Celesta warmly, pulling her into a grandmotherly embrace. “It’s lovely to meet you, dear.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Burkett.”

  I reached to grab Celesta’s bags, but Mrs. Burkett slapped my hand away. I chuckled. Though I could break her, she’d never been afraid of me.

  “Leave the bags, Toven. William will get them when he comes inside. Come to the kitchen. Let me feed the poor girl. I bet she didn’t eat anything at that fancy party. In my day, I was always too nervous to eat at functions. Always afraid to spill something on my dress.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Burkett grabbed Celesta’s arm and tugged her away from my grasp. She laughed as the matronly woman dragged her to the kitchen. The older woman planted her in a chair at the small table in the breakfast nook. Celesta sighed as she settled in the seat.

  “Now, what would you like, dear? Toven, do you want anything?” Mrs. Burkett glanced at me.

  “I don’t want to be any trouble to you, Mrs. Burkett. I’m sure anything would be better than what I’ve been feeding myself the past few weeks.”

  “How about homemade fettucine alfredo?”

  Celesta
’s eyes lit up. “That sounds heavenly.”

  “I’ll have some too,” I added as I sat next to Celesta at the table.

  Celesta looked at me puzzled but said nothing. Before I could probe for her thoughts, Mrs. Burkett asked about Celesta’s dress. Mrs. Burkett bustled around, dishing up pasta and warming it in the microwave. While the plates heated, she had Celesta stand and twirl to show off the dress.

  “Let’s see the shoes, dear. I’ve always been a sucker for shoes.”

  She ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ over them when Celesta lifted her hem and stuck her leg out.

  “Those are gorgeous, but I bet they’re a pain to walk in.”

  “Yes, and dance in, though Toven made me feel as if I was floating when we danced. But they are killer on the feet.” Celesta blushed as she mentioned dancing with me.

  The microwave dinged, and in minutes, we each had steaming plates of cheesy pasta goodness in front of us. Mrs. Burkett fixed Celesta a glass of lemonade and grabbed a bottle of O-negative from the warmer for me.

  “Do you need anything else, you two?” she asked.

  We both shook our heads.

  “I’m going to turn in then. I’ll see you both tomorrow for a late breakfast since it’s too late for either of you to be up with the sun.” She pressed a kiss to the top of my head and squeezed Celesta’s shoulder before walking out.

  I watched her go with a smile of affection on my face. I turned around to find Celesta staring at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You just surprise me.” She twirled pasta onto her fork.

  I took a bite of my food, then asked, “In a good way?”

  “Definitely . . .. So, you said I could ask you anything, right?”

  Uh-oh, what did she want to know?

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, I didn’t realize vampires ate food.”

  Shew, that was an easy topic.

  “Well, we don’t have to eat food to obtain nutrition. Much like humans don’t have to eat grass to obtain the nutrients from the grass. Instead, they eat the cow.”

  “So, humans are your cows?”

  I laughed. “In a manner of speaking. But some, like yourself, are so much more than a mere cow. And most of us don’t forget that.”

  “Our metabolism works too quickly for food to really sustain us. But our bodies can still process food. We just burn it really quickly. Some of us don’t eat food. I enjoy food, so I eat. Mrs. Burkett is an amazing cook. It would be a tragedy to not be able to enjoy her food.” I scooped up another bite of the creamy pasta.

  “Got it. And you can eat . . . garlic?” she asked sheepishly.

  I laughed deeply. “Total myth. Garlic doesn’t hurt vampires, except to give us bad breath.”

  “That’s good because it’d be a shame if you had to miss out on Italian food. It’s one of my favorites.” She sipped her lemonade.

  “Any other misconceptions I can clear up for you?”

  “Yes, how come you can go out in the sunlight?” Her fork scraped her plate as she loaded the tines with more noodles. I liked that she didn’t mind eating in front of me.

  “Well, that’s a more complicated question and answer. I’m going to give you the oversimplified version to keep from boring you with all the science and my theories on things. When whatever it is that makes us vampires begins to course through our veins, it interacts with the genetic material a person already possesses. No one is really sure what happens during the change, but the result is vampires having a variety of traits that they can . . . inherit, for lack of a better word. Apparently, something existed within my human DNA that counteracted something in the venom, preventing me from being harmed by the sun. Those of us who aren’t harmed by UV rays are called daywalkers.”

  She nodded in understanding then turned back to her food. She moaned in appreciation of the delicious meal. That single sound sent a jolt through my system. We ate in silence for a few moments.

  Her feet shuffled under her dress, sending a soft scuffling sound into the air. Oh, the shoes. They were hurting her feet. I stood and turned her chair away from the table. A look of confusion crossed her features. I dropped to my knees in front of her and looked up into her puzzled eyes as my hands crept under the shimmery edge of her dress which was trailing the floor.

  She swallowed hard, and her pulse rate increased. My fingers closed around one of her delicate ankles. An intricate set of straps crisscrossed around her ankle and lower leg. I pulled her shoe-clad foot out from under her dress, exposing a smooth expanse of her calf in addition to a beautiful, slim shoe perched on a lovely little foot. Her fork clattered to her plate as my fingers worked to unbuckle the straps and slip the shoe off her foot. Once her foot was free, she flexed her toes in my palms. I pressed my fingers firmly into her arch and kneaded. My rubbing elicited an erotic moan from her. The beast inside snapped and wanted to taste her toes, but I shoved him down as I continued to rub her foot. After a few moments, I paid the other foot the same attention. She slouched into her seat, really enjoying the foot massage. When I was done, I placed her foot back on the floor.

  I remained kneeling on the floor in front of her. My fingertips trailed from her ankles up her calves. Goosebumps followed in the wake of my digits. I stopped when my hands rested on her knees. I peered up into her face and was surprised by what I saw there—desire swam in her emerald eyes.

  “Toven,” my name fell from her lips like a prayer or a plea. Her hand reached out to trace my stubbled jaw.

  I just looked at her, neither advancing nor retreating, simply frozen in the moment. Savoring it. Arguing with myself. Desire warred with my good sense. Before I could find out which side won, the sound of a throat clearing came from behind me. I laid my head on her fabric-covered lap for a moment, sighing in frustration and maybe gratitude. I slid myself away from her and pulled my hands from beneath her dress. Slowly, I stood and squeezed her hand.

  “Please excuse me for a moment, Celesta.”

  I turned and walked from the kitchen into the foyer to see what Joe could possibly need to tell me that couldn’t wait.

  8

  Celesta

  Toven strode over to the man he’d called Joe earlier, who waited just beyond the kitchen threshold. When Toven reached his side, the man leaned forward and whispered something in Toven’s ear, casting his eyes quickly in my direction. Toven shook his head and shared some more whispered words with the large imposing man.

  While they chatted in secret, I tried to get my breathing under control. I pressed my palm to my chest, trying to will my heart to slow. My body was still reacting to the feel of his hands on my bare legs, the sight of his body kneeling in front of me, the look swimming in his eyes. Before tonight, I’d been fearful of what that part of my contract would entail. But now I was an aching bundle of need. My skin was flush, my breaths were shallow, and moisture had broken out above my lip, at the swell of my breasts and the apex of my thighs.

  ♪ I Get Weak by Belinda Carlisle

  My mind tried to sort this out as I glanced to see Toven still chatting with Joe. I’d been touched by men before—some of them in manners meant to serve as pre-foreplay—but I’d never reacted. Never wanted to proceed any further. And I had always put a stop to things before hands ever went underneath fabric. So I didn’t understand why I was yearning to explore further with Toven, who had the ability to hurt me far more than any mere man could.

  I picked up my fork to finish off the last bites on my plate. I was still a little hungry, so I peeked at Toven still deep in discussion before I stole the last bites from his plate. When I slid his empty plate back to its spot, I heard a chuckle.

  Crap. I looked up sheepishly and saw an amused Toven standing behind his chair with his arms crossed.

  “Did you steal the rest of my fettucine?” he asked with a snarl.

  I would’ve been intimidated by his tone had it not been for the merriment in his eyes and suppressed smile on his face.


  “Sorry. I was still hungry.” I shrugged.

  “Don’t ever apologize for satisfying yourself. I learned long ago that if you don’t care enough to find satisfaction for yourself, then people won’t be so concerned about satisfying you.”

  I wiped my mouth and drank the rest of my lemonade.

  “Can I get you something since I finished your food?” I offered now that my manners had returned.

  “No, do you want more yourself?”

  “Nah, I’m full now. Thank you.”

  “Good, because I have a serious question for you and remember, you promised honesty.” His face was serious.

  I swallowed nervously and nodded my head.

  “Where do you live?”

  “Downtown,” I answered vaguely.

  “I mean the address,” he replied sternly.

  “I . . . uh . . .” I stuttered and looked down at my hands.

  He sat in his chair again and tilted my face up so my gaze met his.

  “Are you living in your car?”

  My mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation he’d buy.

  “I see you riffling through excuses, mentally. Truth, please.”

  “Yes. When I moved here a couple of months ago, I didn’t have enough money for rent and food. I decided to live in my car so my meager savings could last a little longer.” This was so embarrassing.

  “What about your family?”

  “They’re all dead.” I was proud of the lack of emotion in my voice.

  “When?”

  “My mom when I was a kid. My dad, earlier this year.” I blinked rapidly to prevent the tears.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.” My nose burned at the effort to hold back the waterworks.

  “And they left you nothing?”

  “No, the family assets went to pay off my dad’s debts.”

  “You had no family or friends who would’ve taken you in.” He appeared confused by my misfortune.

  “I had to get away from there. I needed distance from all the memories. When my mom died, my dad was there to share my grief. We got through it together. When my dad died, I was alone to carry the sorrow, and it’s a heavy load. I had to leave all the memories and pain behind, or I would’ve drowned in them.” I traced the rim of my glass in distraction.