by M. Cheykota
“I think we need doughnuts.” He stands and walks over to the glass case displaying doughnuts.
I drop my shoes to the floor, slide my feet in them and join him at the counter.
I can see his smile in the reflection of the glass.
We sit and talk for hours. We talk about everything from the weather to sports.
The conversation is easy and comfortable until Christien asks a question I am not ready to answer. “What do you do for a living?”
I pause, which is a bad thing to do when you are about to lie. “I work at the club.” I keep my answer brief, hoping he will not pry. “What do you do?”
“I have done many things in many lifetimes.” He replies evasively.
“Okay, that was very vague.”
“And your answer was not?” He smirks.
“Fine, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Any questions I ask about who you are or what you do for a living seem to be off limits. What are you hiding Jessica?”
“Don’t go pointing fingers at me when you are being just as evasive, Christien. It is late and I have to go. Thanks for the coffee and doughnuts.”
I stretch my stiff muscles then my gaze wanders around the room, taking in the dozen or so humans starting their day.
I realize then it has been hours since I have fed and the blood thirst is riding me hard. My nose flares, taking in their scent and my eyes begin to change to the silvery haze over my dark brown eyes. I am moving before I can stop myself. I feel a hand touch my arm and someone talking, but I cannot hear anything except the rushing of human blood all around me.
I smell O positive from a large woman wearing a dress. A couple more feet and I can sink my teeth…
I feel a sharp pain in my hand. I stop advancing and look down to see Christien has broken every bone in my hand. I stare at him angrily and then my head clears.
“Oh, no! No! No! Christien, get me out of here!” I plead with him.
Christien releases the grip on my broken hand and grabs the other hand, allowing my broken hand to begin to heal. He drags me from the coffee shop and we walk around the corner.
Once away from most of the prying eyes, he spreads out his aura, forcing people to look away from us. I have no idea how he is doing it, but I can now sense that is exactly what he wants his power to do.
I wish Austin were still alive so I could ask him to teach me how to do this.
The sun has not risen yet, but there are plenty of people mobile. Christien lifts me into his arms, carrying me like a small child. He uses his vampire speed, strength and ‘don’t look at us’ aura as we run through the city.
The thousands of smells assaulting me cause my blood thirst to rise again. I look at Christien’s neck and start to squirm in his arms.
“We are almost there ma chatte petite, hold on.” He purrs in my ear.
Lust begins to rise to the forefront. My hands slide down Christien’s chest, loosening the top button on his silk shirt.
He stumbles then growls. “I have only so much power, ma chatte petite. I need you to pull in your claws for just another minute. Once you have fed, we can continue to play your chat et souris game.”
I pout. The first reason is that I believe he is making fun of me. After thinking about it, I begin to think he is right. I do seem to be saying one thing and doing another.
He slows his speed and stops. He puts me down carefully and that is when I realize where I am. I am standing on the front porch of my house.
Fury, panic, anger, and better yet, rage overcomes me. I push him away from me so hard that he falls down to the ground on his back. I pounce and I am on top of him before he can sit up. In mid pounce, I pull one of the silver stakes from my hair and position it over his heart by the time I land on top of him. He is surprised, but does not move.
Smart vampire.
“How do you know where I live?” I shout at him.
He meets my eyes. “The same way you were trying to find out where I live. I followed you.”
It takes a few seconds to let that sink in enough to allow me to respond. “Why were you following me?”
“Are we really going to start this again, ma chatte petite? You will not kill me so let us go inside, have a drink and we can talk.”
“Who are you?” I don’t really expect an answer.
“I am merely a single vampire. You have no need to fear me. I will not harm you, ma chatte petite.”
“I told you, I’m no kitten.” I snap at him, angry that I didn’t detect him following me.
“Of that, I am certain.”
I sit there on top of him and think about all that he has said. He is right. I will not kill him. The contract clearly states that they want him captured, not dead. I also believe him when he says he will not hurt me. Why is that? He has had plenty of opportunities to kill me if he wanted. I have dropped my guard down around him without knowing anything about him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I must be slipping. I am getting careless. I allowed him to charm his way in getting me to trust him.
Christien squirms underneath me. I can feel his erection pushing against my panties. My dress has ridden up, exposing most of my thighs. My hands are now stroking up and down his chest. The stake is lying on the ground beside his right arm. His hands are stroking my legs softly, moving from my calves and tracing their ways to my thighs. He is watching me carefully.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask softly.
He tilts his head to the side as if pondering the question. “I am only wondering how much longer you wish to continue playing these games with me before you realize you have already lost and are willing to admit that you are mine.”
I stare at him.
“Come now, ma chatte sauvage, it is almost dawn and we are both tired. Let us go inside and continue this discussion in a more comfortable setting. The ground is wet and it is stealing the warmth from me.”
Unable to do, say or think about anything except the man in front of me, I say the only thing that comes to my mind. “Okay.”
I climb off him. I dust my knees off, pick up my stake, and adjust my dress. By the time I fish my keys out of the Kate Spade purse around my chest, Christien is standing very close behind me. His hands slide around my waist while he buries his head into my hair. I hear a ‘clack’ sound and my body stiffens.
“What was that?” I whisper. “Did you hear that?”
Christien continues burying his head in my hair, rubbing my neck with his face. He stops long enough to whisper, “Your keys.” Then he continues teasing me by pressing small kisses behind my ear.
“My…” I begin and then look down at the ground to find my keys.
What in the hell is going on with me?
I push away from Christien and pick up my keys. “Thank you for bringing me home, but I think this…” I point at him then me, “ends here. This, whatever this is, it is not working for me. I’m sorry Christien but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
He stares at me in disbelief. “You are jesting, right?”
“Sorry, but no I am not. I told you. I can’t get involved with a vampire. It won’t work for me. It can’t. I’m sorry.”
“It could work if you want it to.” He states, clearly disappointed.
“Not with me.” I turn and unlock my door, but do not open it. “I’m sorry Christien. Have a good night.”
I open the door, listen for any intruders, walk in, and shut the door behind me. I quickly reset the deadbolts and the alarm.
I drag myself into the kitchen. My feet feel like they weigh a ton. I grab three bags of blood from the fridge and pop them into the microwave. As my blood warms up, I kick off my shoes and pull off my dress, laying it across a kitchen chair. The microwave dings and I collect my blood and head upstairs. I finish all three bags before the shower heats up. After a long, hot shower, I dry off and climb into bed naked. The cool satin sheets feel wonderful against my smooth naked body. I set my alarm for noon, roll over and fall asleep.
Chapter 20
The next morning after having breakfast, a bag of blood, and taking the time to pick up my car from Blixen’s parking lot, I decide to look deeper into Christien’s file. Most of the information the client provides is pretty basic, which includes his description, places where he has been, and other things of that nature. There is nothing in his file about his personal life.
There is no explanation in the file about why they want him captured instead of killed. Maybe they want that pleasure for themselves.
I guess I should quit dragging my feet about it. I have had plenty of opportunities to snatch him. I could have delivered him yesterday if I could have kept my brain out of the gutter long enough. I can’t help but wonder what he has done to earn someone paying my sizable fee for his capture. No doubt, he pissed off the wrong vampire and now they want revenge. Vampires tend to become petty when their feelings are hurt.
Maybe he slept with someone else’s significant other. They found out about it and want to chop off his dick.
“Wouldn’t that be a shame?” I say to myself with a smirk on my face.
I bet that is something a male vampire would not want to have cut off. I recoil just thinking about how painful that would be when it grows back.
He probably used that silver tongue of his on some woman and she put out a contract to have him brought back to her so she could make him her sex slave. Hey, now that does not sound like a bad idea. Wait, what am I thinking? He is a vampire.
“There should be no sexual thoughts about him at all.” I say aloud, trying to convince myself and then groan. “I need to get laid.”
Maybe I should call Samuel and see if he is busy tonight. The sex was good enough that I would not mind sampling it again.
“I’m starting to wonder if it is sex I really want or if I want something more.” I muse aloud to myself.
After assembling Christien’s file, I glance at the clock. 11:00 am. I can go to the club and hook-up with someone, find and deliver Christien to the warehouse before he skips town, or go work out at the gym. It’s too early to find someone for a casual fling. I hate working out. Guess I will go find Christien.
A smile spreads across my face. I will need the perfect outfit.
I run to my closet, looking for the perfect seduction, but functional, outfit. I want to make sure Christien is unable to take his eyes off me so I’ll be able to knock him unconscious, chain him up in my custom made, spelled, silver shackles then deliver him to the warehouse before he wakes up and kicks my ass.
I look through my dresses and I don’t really see anything that suits all my needs.
Something red in a dry cleaning bag in the back of my closet catches my eye. I take the dress out of the bag and think, perfect.
The dress is a red, sleeveless Jersey dress by Michael Kors. I combine the dress with my Martinez Valero ‘Demu’ boots. The boots are comfortable, yet oh so cute.
After much consideration, I decide to wear my hair down. My long, thick, straight dark hair resembles my mothers. I put a few large rollers randomly in my hair. The curls add movement and volume. I regularly wax everything that can be waxed on my body so I lotion my smooth arms and legs. I dust gold flecks all over my body, giving my skin a shimmering look, which looks great with my darker, reddish brown skin tone and whiskey colored eyes. I dust some of my hair with the gold dust to give the illusion of highlights. I paint my finger and toe nails the same color red as the dress. I find a matching red satin with lace bra and g-string panty set. I put on knee length stockings that the knee-high boots will hide. My makeup includes a smoky eye and red lipstick to emphasize my full lips even more. I remove the rollers, fluff my hair and stop to admire myself in the mirror. I pull some hair from each side of my face and make an intricate knot with it near the back of my head. I secure the knot with my twin silver stakes. I slide the two daggers into my boots before completing the look with a bracelet containing mini silver knives then turn in the mirror to admire myself.
Wow! I look fantastic if I say so myself, which I do.
I grin, completely satisfied by my transformation. I grab a classic black Coach purse. I finish loading my extra knives, shackles and a baby desert eagle into the purse and grab three more bags of blood.
I do not want to have the blood thirst coming over me again tonight. I think to myself as I down all three bags as fast as possible.
I check myself in the mirror one last time before heading out the door. It is 2:00 pm when I walk outside.
I lock up, turn around and stare at the black stretch limousine waiting in front of my house. A chauffeur wearing a tuxedo is holding the back door of the limo open. I look around thinking the neighbors called a limo and it is at the wrong house.
My theory is shattered when Christien steps out of the limo holding a bouquet of white lilies.
My heart stutters and I fight the tears threatening to ruin my makeup. Slowly, I walk towards Christien, swaying my hips, giving him a good view of my voluptuous body in the form fitting dress. His eyes never leave my body and neither does the smile on his face. The look he gives me says more than words ever could. Standing directly in front of him, I motion towards the flowers he is holding. “Are those for me?”
Speechless, he nods and extends the arm holding the flowers out to me.
“They are beautiful. Thank you.” I smile flirtatiously, taking a moment to sniff the beautiful flowers that have my mother’s name.
“They pale in comparison to your beauty ma chatte petite. You are a vision. You look absolutely stunning.”
I smile at his compliments. “What are you doing here? What is all of this?” I motion to the flowers and limo.
“I have been waiting for you for some time. I came by to ask you out to lunch. Seeing that you are dressed to perfection, I must now swallow my pride and ask if you have other plans?”
“How long have you been waiting out here? Did you knock at the door? I did not hear anything.” My interest is piqued.
“I have only been here for a short time. I did not knock, yet.” He admits.
“So, you were just waiting outside for me to show up, hoping I didn’t have any plans?” I give him a non-believing stare.
“Not everyone is as confident as you seem to be. Are you meeting someone?” He asks, allowing me to see a slight hint of jealousy peek through his armor.
I make him wait several moments before answering. “Let’s go.”
His smile widens even more, making his emerald green eyes twinkle in the midday sun. He reaches out to me.
I grab his hand but before I can slide into the limo, he brings my hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “You look absolutely incredible, ma chatte petite.”
We climb into the limo with a fully stocked bar, flat screen TV, the works. The gold trim makes the inside of the limo gleam and shine. Once settled and on our way to an unknown destination, he begins questioning me.
“I do not mean to pry, but it would be a blow to my ego if I did not ask. Why are you so dolled up, ma chatte? Is there another suitor I am in contention with?” He is unable to hide his insecurity with his question.
I decide to say nothing and only smile back at him.
Watching his face, I could have sworn I saw his jaw clench and his eyes flash with anger. On the other hand, could it be jealousy? Unwilling to let the opportunity to tease him pass, I respond.
“Are you jealous Christien? I am a beautiful woman. That is presumptuous of you to think that no one except you would be interested in dating me.” I lie, hoping to get under his skin.
“If you continue to goad me into revealing my intentions towards you, I may need to begin using my natural charm in order to seduce you.” He threatens seductively.
Is it hot in here? I had better make my move soon before I get in over my head with this vampire.
Changing the subject, I look out the window. “Where are we going?”
“It is a surprise. Only knowing you for a short time, I am
well aware that you probably do not like surprises. Since you have willingly agreed to go to lunch with me without negotiations, I am pleased to inform you that we are going to Le Chateau de Pas.” He eyes me with suspicion as thoughts flow through his mind. “Why is that, ma chatte petite? Why have you agreed to join me so willingly without an argument?”
I shrug. “Maybe I’m tired of fighting the inevitable.”
“Hmm, maybe. I do not believe ma petite sauvage has lost her claws.” He is still eyeing me warily.
“Oh, I still have them. They’re just retracted, for now.” I respond with a mischievous grin on my face.
“So, you have changed your mind about me?” He asks curiously.
I reach into my purse as if searching for something and pull out the baby desert eagle, pointing it at his chest.
Chapter 21
The triumphant look on his face disappears instantly. “What is this about? Now what game are you playing?”
“This is no game Christien.” I reply without inflection.
“You will not harm me. We have already been through this. Now what is this about?” A touch of anger creeps into his voice.
“I have no idea, but it’s not my job to know why.” I throw him the spelled, silver shackles and tell him to put them on.
He lets the anger show in his face and eyes before snapping the shackles into place on his wrists.
I breathe a sigh of relief once the shackles are in place. The spelled, silver shackles prevent all types of others, except the fey, from using any otherworldly abilities and they siphon the strength of the wearer so they are unable to break them. They can run, but only at human speed.
