Bloodthirsty Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

by T. L. Christianson

  Angling my neck and turning, I tried to see my back.

  Where were the rest of my wounds?

  I turned around and pushed down my pants at my hip to look for the horrible scrape that should have run down my back to my thigh, but saw only my snow-white backside.

  A knock made me glance toward the bedroom door that stood open. However, that’s not where the sound came from.

  Listening, I heard the thud of a heavy door opening, and faint voices filtered in from the other room.

  My bare feet slid across the smooth concrete as I stepped into the hallway to listen.

  I groaned silently when I recognized Mel’s voice.

  “I’m not even sure I want to know what you’ve done. That poor girl. I saw the way you looked at her…”

  Ethan interrupted, “It’s not like that. She’s different.”

  “Yeah? I’m not going to pick up your messes anymore. Is this why Ashley has threatened to leave? Was she sick of seeing too much?” She asked shrilly.

  “I didn’t hurt Caroline. I saved her from a mountain lion. She’s recovering but will be fine.” Ethan sounded angry and defensive.

  “I smell her. Is she here? Why is she here? You should’ve taken her to a hospital!”

  I strained to hear his voice as he spoke in low tones, “Yes, she’s here, but it’s okay. I had to give her blood last night, or she might have died from her injuries.”

  The woman sniffed, and I pictured her face, lips pressed together. “We don’t need another mysterious death.”

  A chill ran down me.

  Another mysterious death?

  I gulped and leaned shakily against the wall.

  “What’s the deal with this girl anyway?” came Mel’s voice, dripping with judgment.

  Ethan spoke barely above a whisper. “What goes on in my private life is none of your business. If I want her, I’ll have her.”

  Mel let out a long-suffering sigh. “Ethan, it is my concern if something happens again. I don’t want any more trouble with the Council. Do not kill her.”

  I hesitated, waiting to hear his answer, but instead, Ethan sent the office manager away.

  Goosebumps ran the length of my body as I stumbled back to the bedroom.

  Another mysterious death?

  Do not kill her?

  What in the hell were they talking about?

  What in the hell had Aubrey gotten me into?

  I covered my face with my hands as strange emotions flooded through me, thrilling me but angering me at the same time.

  “If I want her, I’ll have her.”

  What a bastard.

  What was he? Because after what had happened, it was painfully clear that Ethan Dumont was not human.

  6

  Taking several shaky breaths, I began looking for my clothing. I found everything, torn up, in a heap in the bathroom trashcan.

  Holding up a piece of my ripped shirt, I whispered, “Fuck.”

  That man stirred something inside me—lust, desire. Should I also be afraid?

  He’d torn my clothes straight off my body.

  He’d bit my clothes and ripped them.

  My thoughts began wandering over what had happened. My brain tried to grasp what was possible versus what I’d seen.

  My boss, the bastard, was a vampire.

  A bloodthirsty vampire.

  I needed to get out of here and back to tell Aubrey.

  As my mind ran over everything that had happened to me, I laughed contemptuously. How could I explain that Ethan Dumont, Tech guru, was an actual vampire?

  I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t tell anyone what actually happened.

  No one would believe me.

  Under no circumstance, under no condition or possible world could I go to Aubrey Bloom and tell her that Ethan was a vampire.

  She wouldn’t believe me.

  I didn’t believe it…but the man had bitten me and healed me with his blood.

  His office manager, stick-up-her-butt-Mel, knew and told him to be careful. Careful about what?

  Careful about WHAT?

  Not to kill me?!

  What the actual fuck?

  So, there I had it.

  I couldn’t tell Aubrey what happened.

  I couldn’t tell anybody any of this.

  Except maybe Ashley…?

  Ashley, Ethan’s personal assistant, had to know.

  As I sat there completely freaked out and planning to visit the very pregnant woman in the hospital—again—the bloodthirsty bastard walked into the bathroom.

  I sat on the edge of the bathtub, the trashcan between my bare feet.

  But damn him for being so beautiful and his eyes so concerned. His expression immediately changed when I looked up at him. His light eyes widened, and he swallowed as if unsure what to say to me.

  Neither of us spoke, somehow frozen in the moment, knowing that as soon as one of us did, things would change between us.

  “How do you feel?” He glanced down at pieces of my bra I’d pulled from the trash can.

  I nodded, still sitting on the edge of the tub, not trusting myself to speak.

  “Let’s talk when you’re dressed. Mel picked up a bag from your place. She spoke to Aubrey so that she wouldn’t worry.”

  I sucked in a shuddering breath and took the bag from him.

  My mind told me that I should be afraid—but I wasn’t.

  I wanted to be here with him, damn the consequences.

  “Do you hurt?”

  “Umm…no. I’m okay.” My stomach rumbled awkwardly.

  “I’ll make us something to eat. You slept for almost twenty-four hours.”

  The smart thing would have been to demand he take me home, let me use his phone, or just leave.

  Instead, I said nothing as he turned away and left the room.

  I could see the moon through the skylight above. It was full dark, and beyond the windows was nothing but black.

  After changing into a UMD t-shirt and leggings, I went in search of Ethan.

  The house had been made of the same material as the office or lab, as Mel called it. The roof was a single slab, which seemed to hover over a band of glass that rimmed the one-story house.

  Colorful paintings hung alongside tribal masks and sculptures.

  An open space made up the main living room, dining room, and kitchen.

  As I entered the room, Ethan gazed up at me from the vegetables he chopped. A smile touched his lips.

  “I was asleep for the whole day?” I asked, pulling out a stool from across the counter before sitting down.

  He nodded, “You needed to heal.”

  “So, this is your house?”

  “Yeah, do you like it?” His cheek twitched as his gaze went back to the vegetables.

  Rhythmic chopping from the cutting board filled a pause that was too long.

  “Yeah, I like it.” It looked…expensive.

  He layered a block of things onto two plates. Laying out yellow beet and then a creamy white mixture he’d just pulsed in a food processor.

  Curiosity got the better of me. “What is this?”

  “Lasagna. Well, raw and vegan lasagna,” He finished with a square of yellow beet on the top.

  “So…you eat?” I asked, meeting his eyes.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” He motioned to the fridge, “Grab the cabernet from the refrigerator and two glasses. We can talk and eat on the back patio.”

  I did as he asked, feeling oddly domestic. His refrigerator was stocked full of vegetables and wine.

  On the deck, I couldn’t tell how steep or high the ledge was beyond the railing, but I knew it dropped off based on shadows.

  Two chairs and a lone table sat facing the view. Ethan took the chair opposite me and took the wine bottle from my hand.

  Watching him in the low light, he pulled out a wine key and began to screw it into the cork.

  “This is a local wine, one of my favorites.” The cork popped, and the
bottle made a slight clink as he poured a glass for me before filling his own.

  Lifting his wine, he held it up.

  I couldn’t tear myself away from him as I lifted my own glass.

  “To new friendships,” he said, still holding my gaze.

  I shook my head and breathed out a silent laugh. “To surviving the day.” I tapped my glass to his.

  After a long swallow, I decided to stop beating around the bush. “So, you—you’re a vampire,” I blurted out as a matter of fact.

  “Let’s eat first,” he laughed, avoiding my question.

  I stabbed at the faux lasagna before taking a tentative bite. It was not something I would’ve chosen, but I was starving.

  After taking the last bite, I realized that Ethan had been watching me.

  “That was a lot better than I thought…Are you…is this because of…because you’re a vampire? Like, you can only eat raw foods?” I wiped at my mouth with my napkin.

  The corner of his mouth quirked up into his usual cocky expression. “No. And I’m not a vampire. I’m moroi, which is what the vampire myth is based on.”

  “Are you like an alien or a different species, or are you made?” My fork scratched against the plate as I collected the scraps of my food to get another bite.

  “I was born human about two-hundred years ago, then changed.” He refilled my glass, then his own, before standing and leaning against the railing to look out into the night.

  “I felt your body heat, and I heard your heart. You’re alive, so you aren’t really like a vampire.” I sipped at my cup, my head beginning to feel the subtle effects of the alcohol.

  “I’m alive, but I do need to drink blood.”

  My mind ran in circles, and I struggled to come up with more questions on the spot, afraid but curious about what the answers would be.

  “Did you change me into a vampire? Am I like you now? I drank your blood—now I don’t need my glasses.”

  He turned and held his hand out to me. “No, I just healed you, my blood healed you—nothing more.”

  I stood and closed the space between us. “Because you were afraid that I was going to die?”

  “That and also, if I healed you, there would be no scars…” Something dark lingered behind his eyes as he examined my hairline where the lion’s teeth had clamped down.

  “What else aren’t you saying?”

  He shook his head, “What do you mean? What else can I tell you? I could write books about what I am and what I can do, but I won’t know what to tell you unless you ask me.”

  “Will you hurt me?”

  His eyes looked black in the faint light. “I have dark desires that I can’t always control because of what I am.”

  Have you killed people? I wondered, but I didn’t ask. If I didn’t know the answer, it couldn’t haunt me.

  His fingers touched a strand of my hair before winding it behind my ear. “I will do everything in my power to protect you and keep you safe. Know that.”

  I searched his face and believed him. “Protect me?”

  “We’re drawn to each other, why pretend otherwise. I know that you desire me, and I have desired you from the moment I saw you sucking on that stupid vape in my parking lot. I wanted to show you what I was, but I thought I would frighten you away.”

  “Should I be frightened?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you and reassure you of things that are unknowable.” His intensity and earnest expression shot through me.

  His fingers interlaced with my own as he looked out over the dark trees.

  I sipped my wine, a warm buzz filling my body.

  “Tell me about what happened at the school you worked in,” he asked softly, his gaze roaming the horizon.

  “Oooff…” I sighed. “Well, there’s really not too much to know. I had a terrible bully in my class. His father was a diplomat who contributed generously.” I shook my head in anger. “I’d written the little thug up dozens of times, and nothing was ever done. My complaints fell on deaf ears because of his father’s connections and money.”

  Memories filled me with anger and regrets flashed across my mind.

  Ethan met my gaze, and in a whisper asked, “Then what?”

  “Then, there was this girl.” I squeezed my eyes closed. “I’d known her for a couple years, smart, shy, kind—she kind of reminded me of me at that age. A few months before the incident, she just shut down. Stopped handing in papers, began not showering, didn’t brush her hair.” I blew out a breath and shook my head to try to shake the memories.

  Taking my hand, Ethan rubbed small circles on my palm. The gesture strangely calmed me.

  When I continued, though, I couldn’t stop my voice from shaking. “I don’t know this for sure, but I suspect that the entitled little piece of shit bully did something to her. She was only fourteen. But she never came forward, never made a complaint, but she was afraid of him, and he continued to bully her…even in my class.”

  I gazed off into the darkness below where animals scurried, and bugs buzzed and chirped.

  “You tried to stop it?” Came the low question.

  “Yeah, but I should’ve been smarter, I should’ve thought things through. Every day, he’d taunt her, and I’d chastise him and send him to the headmaster. Nothing I did made a difference, he still called her, slut, whore, bitch.” I swallowed hard. “Then one day, that little shit blocked her into a corner and began his usual verbal assault. I saw red. I pushed him away from her, and when he pushed me back, I slapped him clean across the face—as hard as I could. I hit him several times, I don’t even remember how many. His nose bled, and he fell onto the ground like the little baby he is.”

  Ethan raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? That’s hardly anything. I had professors in school who used rulers, paddles, and belts.”

  His statement was another reminder that he wasn’t just another ordinary guy.

  I bit my lip and raised my eyebrows, “Yeah, well several students recorded it on their phones. I was immediately fired and pressed with charges. I still have my license in Maryland, but no one will hire me. I’m pretty sure I’m blackballed on the entire east coast. So, in the end, he won.”

  “Such is life, completely unfair,” he said, his eyes flicking toward me from his signet ring.

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  “There are things that we have no control over, no matter how hard we try.”

  I let out a sardonic laugh, and he rubbed my back.

  “How do you like California so far?” He refilled my glass, and I sipped it.

  I gazed at the almost empty wine bottle on the deck railing. “It’s okay. I love Aubrey and all, but my cat is destroying her house. I need to find another place to live….”

  “Do you think you’ll stay in the area?”

  I gazed up into his eyes, “I hope so. I’m sure you know all about me because of the background check.”

  He nodded, “Even a good background check just skims the surface.”

  I shrugged, “Hmmm. Tell me about you.”

  Ethan pursed his lips before speaking. “I was born to a minor French noble family in 1802 in what is now southern Belgium. My first language was French…”

  “In Belgium? What language do they speak there now?” I sipped my wine.

  He gave that euro shrug, “Mostly Flemish but in that area French too.”

  “Hmm…wow. From what I remember, Belgium was in constant war for a long time.”

  He nodded, “It’s the only thing I knew for not only my human life but most of my life as a moroi as well.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?”

  “I was the second living son, but living was hard back then, even for the wealthy. My mother died during childbirth when I was still in knee pants. My father and brother died during the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. If life were fair, it would be my brother here instead of me. He was smart, good, and kind, while I was devilishly impulsive and unpredictable.”

  I placed
my hand on his arm. “Ethan, you were so young. All kids are impulsive and unpredictable at that age.”

  He leaned on the railing and looked out into the forest. “I don’t usually speak of my human life.”

  I gazed at his profile, wanting to touch him, to smooth that strand of dark hair out of his eyes.

  “It’s good to know that you are human, after all…or I guess not human, but...” I trailed off.

  He turned to me, his eyes bright, “I’m still alive, and I think for the most part—human. I have feelings and regrets just like you, I only have longer to live with the consequences.”

  I searched his unlined young face. “How long do moroi live?”

  Shaking his head, he shrugged, “Indefinitely, I suppose.”

  “Why can you go out in the daylight? Can you see yourself in the mirror? In photos?”

  His chest shook with silent laughter. “Those are all myths. Most everything you know about real vampires isn’t true.”

  I bit my lip, “So, tell me. What is true?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  I looked out into the night, listening to bugs and animal sounds. “Did you stop aging when you were turned or changed?”

  “No. We don’t stop aging, we evolve to our most vital state. Most moroi appear to be anywhere from an older teenager to late twenties, maybe mid-thirties.” Ethan ran his hand down my back, watching my reaction to his touch.

  “What about garlic?”

  “I like garlic.”

  “Holy water?”

  He shook his head.

  “Silver?” I laughed.

  Ethan raised an eyebrow.

  “Seriously?” I asked. “Silver? You can’t touch silver?”

  “It creates a chemical reaction and stops our healing process.”

  “Oh? That’s not good.”

  He continued skimming his fingers over my arm and my back, trailing down through my wild hair.

  “No, it’s actually good. We make all our biological products for moroi with silver so that their body doesn’t reject it.”

  I smiled slyly up at him, wondering what game he was playing with all these slow, lingering touches.

  Looking back and forth between his eyes, I sucked in a fortifying breath. “What is it you want from me? Is this all a game to you?”