Hot Summer Bites: A Castle of Dark Dreams Novella (A Penguin Special from Berkley Sensation)

by Bangs, Nina

  Taurin stared at it. “Holgarth wears this?” He shut down all mental images. Nope, didn’t want to go there ever.

  “Yep.” Eric was enjoying this way too much. “Hey, don’t complain. This whole plan was your idea.”

  Taurin waited for Eric to leave, and then with a muttered curse, he pulled on the tiny blue stretchy abomination, all the while trying not to picture Holgarth leaping into the pool wearing only his blue wizard’s hat and matching swimsuit.

  Baring his fangs, Taurin pulled his cape closed and left the room in search of Kristin. She’d pay for this. Oh, yeah, she’d really pay.

  He smiled.

  Chapter Two

  “Madam, you will go directly to the dungeon. You will not pass Go, and you definitely will not collect two hundred dollars.” Holgarth pursed his thin lips and pierced her with his beady-eyed glare. “And may I say that you have abysmal taste in costumes. Perhaps you intend to audition for Monks Gone Wild?”

  Kristin narrowed her eyes to angry slits. “Whatever happened to ‘the customer is always right’?”

  Holgarth arched one supercilious brow. “Customers are rarely right. They need guidance. I’m positive that our handsome prince will have zero incentive to save your little behind—although one can’t quite judge the scope of your derriere in that hideous outfit—when he has so many other beautifully garbed maidens from whom to choose.”

  “Handsome prince. Whoopee.” Amazing. He’d reduced her to a sulky ten-year-old with his formidable sarcasm. You had to respect that kind of power.

  The wizard’s harrumph expressed his supreme disapproval. “Most women are ecstatic at the chance to have a brave warrior engage an evil vampire in battle for their honor. And they welcome the handsome prince with the pitiful hope that he will bring them—dare I say it—ultimate bliss.”

  “Gag me. That is so pathetic.” For just a teeny, tiny moment, the possibility of “ultimate bliss” with her hot handyman did skitter across her consciousness, but she whacked it with her mental broom before it could take her out of focus-on-the-job mode.

  “I don’t need a man to save me, and no way is anyone carrying me anywhere.” She could picture the handsome prince grunting mightily as he tried to heave her into his arms. The visual made her smile. Okay, so she hadn’t lost her sense of humor completely.

  Holgarth didn’t deign to argue as he eyed her weapon of choice. “My God, woman, what do you intend to do with that?”

  “Slay the evil vampire myself.” Kristin frowned at the huge sword. It was so heavy she had to drag it along the floor. She was counting on the adrenaline rush of battle to help her heft the dumb hunk of metal. “I think your warrior guy would have it easier if the castle stocked things like crosses, garlic, holy water, and wooden stakes.”

  “Where’s the passion in a clove of garlic?” Holgarth looked down his long nose at her. “Medieval times were hardly romantic, although most women enjoy suspending their disbelief for a short time. But if you fancy yourself a warrior princess, I think we have an old Xena costume somewhere.” His contemptuous sniff said that warrior princesses were so five minutes ago.

  “The sword will have to go, though. We’ll be lucky if you don’t decapitate someone. Hopefully it won’t be you. I do not want to defend the castle against a messy lawsuit. Do you think your family would be open to a discreet out-of-court settlement?” He seemed to brighten at the possibility of her decapitation without legal consequences.

  Kristin closed her eyes for a moment to gather her wits, which seemed to have fled to places unknown. What was her problem? And why was she dressed in this ridiculous brown robe while she dragged a really big phallic symbol behind her? Jeez, she was here to find sex, and she didn’t think she’d find much of it dressed like a frumpy paper sack. A scary truth hid just out of sight, but she didn’t have time right now for deep introspection.

  “Look, it’s my fantasy, and if I want to wear this costume, I’ll damn well wear it. The sword stays with me, unless you want to wrestle me for it.” How did this place ever get any customers if they had to go through Mr. Snarky first? “And what if I don’t feel like going to the dungeon?”

  Holgarth sighed dramatically. “The fantasies are scheduled at half-hour intervals. The fantasy lasts twenty minutes, and the actors have ten minutes to prepare for the next one. I had no idea that you would fling yourself into my carefully planned schedule, but Taurin insists you must experience a fantasy right now. So in order to accommodate you ‘right now,’ I will choose your fantasy.”

  Kristin frowned. As much as she’d love to argue with him about that, she had to admit he had a point. “Fine, so where’s the dungeon? Will Eric the Evil be there?”

  Holgarth nodded as he pointed imperiously toward a darkened stairway on the other side of the great hall. “Go. The vampire awaits.”

  “Oh, stuff the melodrama.” Not impressive as put-downs went, but she was too busy thinking about her confrontation with the vampire to worry about Holgarth. As she dragged her really big sword across the hall, people turned to stare. What? Hadn’t they ever seen a female vampire slayer dressed like Friar Tuck before?

  She peered down the stone stairway that spiraled into blackness. A few puny wall sconces barely made a dent in the darkness. Kristin swallowed hard. Okay, this wasn’t real, so why the clammy hands and noisy gulps?

  Time for some self-truth here. She was afraid. Oh, not of the dark, but of what waited in the darkness. Sex. It crouched at the bottom of the stairway, ready to pounce and tear away her protective layer of bravado. Sex was up close and personal, not something she could back away from and view objectively. She’d feel a lot braver facing werewolves in Minnesota.

  Sure, she wanted a kinky sex story because it would sell like crazy, and because she really liked the concept of kinky sex. And yeah, she’d covered a few sex stories, but she’d always had someone else on the inside doing the grunt work. Had she phrased that wrong? Anyway, all she’d had to do was write the article. This was different. She didn’t have a buffer zone this time.

  So? The shocking truth washed over her and nearly took her under. She was a product of her repressed background. When in doubt, blame your parents.

  She’d made love before, but she’d never been comfortable with it, had never been able to lose herself in the event. It was always like she was standing off to the side critiquing herself and her partner—she’d be doing the penguin waddle if she didn’t hit the gym soon; he was making really funny noises; and had she paid her cable bill? All in all, making love had been just okay. If she couldn’t turn off all her inner dialogue, she doubted she’d ever experience the ultimate wow! moment.

  But hope sprang eternal and all that crap. She still held out hope for the man who could make her forget her cable bill while giving her an orgasm that would reduce her to tears of gratitude.

  It wouldn’t happen this week. She had to stay focused on her job. If the park was all about sex, and if she took her investigation to its logical conclusion, she wouldn’t be making love. She’d be having sex with a stranger, one of women’s top ten fantasies, according to research. It tempted at the same time it scared the hell out of her.

  This was the start of a whole week of searching for sex around every corner while she wondered with heart-pounding uncertainty what she’d do if she found it.

  Okay, now that she understood where she was coming from, she could concentrate on where she was going. Right now it was down these stairs.

  Kristin crept downward, step by agonizing step, and she’d swear the kaboom, kaboom of her heartbeat echoed off the stone walls like a demented kettledrum. The clank, clank of her sword as it hit each step added to the general din. She sure wasn’t doing a good job of creeping up on Eric the Evil. Even as she crept, he was probably polishing his fangs.

  Kristin took a deep breath. More oxygen would calm h
er heart into a false sense of security. She could walk to the bottom of this staircase. She could meet and defeat Eric the Evil. She could find out if he had sex on his mind. She could . . . She could run like hell back up the steps and face the patronizing sneer of the castle’s wicked wizard.

  Never. Besides, it was too late to run. She’d reached the bottom of the steps. She paused to take stock. There were several doors revealed by the one wall sconce’s yellow glow. She supposed the dungeon’s door was the big ugly one with a few tastefully arranged blood splatters. Ugh.

  Personally, she had questions about the other doors. Storerooms? Labs where mad scientists carried out unspeakable experiments on armadillos? Kristin couldn’t help it. She was drawn to the outrageous.

  Dragging her attention back to the dungeon door, she sighed. No way could she put this off any longer. Kristen opened the door and stepped into the dungeon’s dim interior.

  He moved from the shadows, just a large dark shape until he stepped into the dim circle of light cast by one of the dungeon’s four flickering candles. He used one hand to hold closed the folds of his long black cape while with his other he held a flap of the cape over most of his face.

  Someone needed to give this guy a vampire fashion makeover. Her mole inside the San Antonio group had told her vampire wannabes dressed pretty much like everyone else. She would’ve checked it out herself, but the pics he’d sent her showed nothing but empty rooms. She’d meant to ask him about the pics, but he disappeared right after sending them. Weird.

  Eric the Evil needed to trade in his cape for jeans and a T-shirt. She opened her mouth to tell him that, but swallowed hard instead.

  Okay, so he had the whole dark, dank dungeon thing going on, and it was sort of creeping her out. Stone floor, stone walls, a variety of torture instruments, and a big black-caped guy standing in the middle of it all were enough to put a chill in the air. She shivered. Kudos to whoever was in charge of sets here.

  “And what did Holgarth send me tonight?” His soft laughter sounded more sinister than amused. “I assume you’re a choice morsel, but it’s hard to tell with all the brown wrapping paper. Come to me so I can strip away all those layers and sample your life’s essence.”

  “Choice morsel? You’ve gotta be kidding.” She clenched both hands around the sword as she prepared to attempt to lift it, oh say, maybe five inches off the floor. “And let’s do away with euphemisms. You want to suck my blood, vampire.” Wait, he didn’t sound like Eric, but his voice was familiar, even muffled by the cape.

  His laughter was more sincere this time. “Lots of attitude. I like it. Any ideas about how you’ll reach my neck with that sword? I won’t have any trouble reaching yours.” He stepped closer.

  “Taurin?” She knew it was his voice, and yet it wasn’t. His voice seemed deeper, with a disturbing note of compulsion in it. Compulsion? Okay, time for some brain defogging.

  “Not at this moment in this place.” He moved even closer, invading her space, blocking out the light, and filling her total field of vision with intimidating male.

  She resisted the urge to back up and tried to immerse herself in the fantasy. “Come any closer, and I’ll . . . cut you off at the ankles.” Kristin sensed his smile behind his improvised mask.

  “Can’t lift that sword any higher, huh?”

  “Stupid sword.”

  “I guess I could bend down, but I have a better idea.” Taking that last step, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Let’s explore coexistence strategies.”

  Kristin noticed something right away. He had to let go of his cape in order to hold her. The cape gaped open. There was lots of bare vampire pressed against her.

  She mentally stroked her chin. Ah, so the rumors of sex in the citadel were true. “Sex and the Citadel,” a great title for her article.

  Time for her to put her investigative skills to use. She wiggled her body against his to get a feel for the situation. Mmm, hard muscle beneath smooth skin. Too bad she couldn’t ditch her dumb costume. It always paid to get close to your subject, the closer the better.

  His body heat warmed her. Everywhere. Sweat pooled between her breasts and trickled a sensual path south where the action was sizzling. Her Center for Sexual Excitement had realized the potential for imminent erotic diversion and kicked into high gear. All that tactile stimulation along with the heavy feeling building low in her belly made her drop her useless sword so she could reach for her robe.

  As he released her, she glanced at his face. And froze.

  Whoever did the makeup here was a pro. Sure the dungeon was dark, but she was close enough to spot a phony vampire face. Taurin’s face looked as real as her own. Well, maybe not quite as human as her own. He was vampire. His eyes were larger and sort of elongated. And they were the blackest eyes she’d ever seen. But it was his mouth that riveted her. His lips were fuller, more sensual, tempting.

  He smiled, a wicked lifting of his lips that exposed gleaming fangs. Kristin shuddered. At least she knew why his mouth looked so sexy. He was covering up some serious dental hardware.

  She was conflicted. On one hand, even in vampire form he was so hot she expected the air around him to ignite. On the other hand, those were some heavy-duty canines. And she’d been right, they were white and shiny—evidence that he did a lot of polishing.

  “Come to me, Kristin.” His low, husky murmur promised she wouldn’t be sorry.

  Kristin took a deep breath. Reality-check time. This was just a fantasy. His fangs were fake. Taurin wasn’t a vampire; he was just a sexy guy. And she’d always known she’d have to make sacrifices for her job.

  She slipped out of her robe and flung it away from her.

  In the name of investigative reporting, she’d offer herself up on the altar of doing-whatever-it-takes. She’d force herself to run her hands over that incredible chest, touch his male nipples with her tongue, and put her mouth wherever her lips felt the need to wander.

  She unbuttoned her shirt and let it slide to the floor.

  No matter how grueling the investigation process was, she’d carry on until she had every last sordid detail. It would be tough work exploring all those out-of-the-way spots on his muscular body. But hey, her readers would want to know the texture and the exact degree of firmness of his magnificent butt cheeks.

  She reached for her pants’ button.

  No one could say she didn’t throw herself into her work. Oh, the sacrifices she made for the sake of her art. She paused with her fingers still on the button. Oh, the lies she told. Who was she trying to kid? What she wanted to do with Taurin would never appear in print.

  Kristin let her fingers linger on the button a little longer as she slid her gaze the length of his body. Hmm. “Tell me you’re not wearing a blue metallic swimsuit with gold suns, moons, and stars.”

  “Holgarth’s. It was either this or nothing at all.”

  He glanced away and she would’ve sworn he looked embarrassed. This touch of human weakness made her feel all soft and mushy inside. “Personally, I would’ve come down on the side of nothing.”

  “Hmmph. A real man wouldn’t stand around talking everything to death. When are you gonna get to the good stuff? I don’t have all night.” The grouchy male voice came from one of the darkened corners.

  Kristin gasped and quickly bent down to retrieve her shirt. Taurin cursed as he spun toward the voice. How the hell had someone gotten in without him knowing?

  “Jeez, close the damn cape, man. Lookin’ at a mostly naked vampire gives me hives.” The fluffy white Persian cat stepped from the shadows and stared up at Taurin from big round blue eyes.

  “Who’re you?” Taurin hoped he scared the crap out of the cat. He bared his fangs to emphasize how pissed he was. A few more minutes and Kristin would’ve been naked in his arms. He’d wanted that. Really wanted it
.

  “That cat talked to you.” Kristin stood clutching her shirt, eyes wide with shock.

  “Yeah, but he won’t be talking much longer, because I’m kicking his furry ass out of here.” Taurin glared at the cat.

  The cat ignored Taurin’s threat in favor of staring at Kristin. “Lookin’ good, babe. If I were in my human form, the action would’ve started long ago.”

  “It’s talking to me now.” Kristin seemed stuck on that one thought.

  Taurin forced himself to calm down. Heaving a shape-shifter from the dungeon might involve a battle, which would upset Kristin even more than she was now. “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “I’m S.O.B., and you bloodsuckers are a bunch of wusses. I’m a real man. I control the remote, and I leave the toilet seat up if I damn well feel like it. Women love a man who takes charge and doesn’t put up with crap from anyone.” He seemed to puff up right before Taurin’s eyes. “Women need a strong man to tell them what to do.”

  “Whoa, there, kitty.” Kristin might be in shock over a talking cat, but she was still able to react to the red flag S.O.B. unwisely waved in her face. “You might be all cute and fluffy, but beneath all that fur beats the heart of a sexist jerk.”

  She cast Taurin a panicked glance. “Tell me I’m not arguing with a cat.”

  “S.O.B.? Is that a character judgment?” Taurin took a step toward the cat.

  The cat ignored him. From the glitter in his eyes, Taurin figured he was totally pissed.

  “Don’t call me cute and fluffy, woman. I’m a mean, fighting machine. My enemies run screaming when they see me coming. I eat chunks of concrete for lunch. I—”

  Kristin’s eyes still looked glazed, but her fighting spirit seemed in great shape. “You’re cute and fluffy. Deal with it.”

  Taurin recognized the exact moment her nose for a sensational story began to twitch. “So what’s the trick? Is the kitty wired and someone upstairs is spouting this stuff? If so, you really need a new script writer.” She stared at Taurin. “Tell me we’re dealing with a wired kitty.”