Vampire Lover

by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

  Premonition, maybe?

  Although most Irish people were superstitious about such things, Kelsie fought the impulse. She was young and moderately attractive, so guys routinely tried to pick her up. She was adept at giving a decent brush-off to pursuers she wasn’t interested in. Yet damned if she didn’t feel tongue-tied right then.

  She bit her lip hard and tasted blood. She watched his eyes immediately go to her mouth, as if the blood had enticed his attention. With the arrival of more Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

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  chills came suspicion.

  Maybe this guy was too perfect to be human.

  All of a sudden there didn’t seem to be enough air on the patio. Her chills mounted, as did the inexplicable feeling that her wishes for the appearance of a creature of the night had been heard by the wrong person in charge.

  Please let him be a werewolf!

  She barely got that thought off before the man’s face blurred, and his mouth touched hers.

  CHAPTER TWO

  He had tasted the woman before introducing himself, teased by the drop of crimson on her lip.

  The mistake shot past Hayden’s awareness. He was a vampire. Finding blood was what he was designed to do. But not here. Not like this.

  Her bead of blood spread, slick as silk, as he pressed his mouth to hers. The heady scent of that single drop roared through him, tickling his veins, tightening his muscles.

  Other body parts sprang to life, heating up from the inside out, as if he had just clamped on to a flame.

  Deep in the back of his mind, though, the talons of mystery coiled around his spontaneous action. He had meant to get away from her, to avoid this very thing.

  How, then, had he ended up in an unwarranted embrace?

  Now that he had, though, sensations zoomed in, one after the other. The blonde tasted unusual. Hotter than most. Wetter than most. Her blood held a hint of aluminum, normal fare in humans, as was the anticipated sugary sweetness. But another, hidden component, drenched in a musky casing, also played on her soft lips. More hints of that storm brewing, plus a heady aftertaste of secrets.

  Hayden’s fangs began to ache. His pulse quickened as he held himself back from a full-out assault on the Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

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  woman’s taut body. She remained motionless.

  Although she had a mouth like liquid desire, it didn’t respond to his. She didn’t pull away, but neither did she bend or cave to this sudden hedonistic act of seduction. Shock ran through her body in ripples. She didn’t breathe.

  Hayden touched her teeth with the tip of his tongue as her blood curled into him, spreading throughout his body with the poignancy of a fire alarm. The moment was exotic, dangerous. Her blood was an instant aphrodisiac, an addiction to one who hadn’t tasted the blood of a human since his awakening.

  One slight flex of his jaws now, and he could bite right through the flawless skin. If he did, though, he would become something he’d vowed he would never be.

  Darkness enclosed him as his urges raged. He knew that a multitude of people were close by, mere steps away. Still, he wanted other things from the woman who tasted of fire and sweetness, more than just her blood. He wanted it all, in that moment. All of her.

  Silver-clad neck to her black polished toes, and every moist, luscious space in between. Right here. Stretched out against this wall.

  If her mouth was this hot, he could only imagine what the rest of her had to offer. Unimaginable bliss.

  An inferno to slide himself into. Heat like hers was a turn-on, an inescapable draw for a creature unable to bask in the sunlight.

  Below his belt, he began to throb with need. His jaws tensed, desperate for more than a taste despite the warnings his brain was sending to stop such thoughts.

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  Vampire Lover

  He didn’t do this. He didn’t bite, hunt, maim or kill.

  Those actions belonged to others of his kind who were less civilized. To the undead.

  But as this woman’s presence pulled at his baser instincts, spears of confusion struck him. Need versus want. Want versus sanity and the protection of his kind. The only way vampires could exist was in complete anonymity. He could do nothing here, and was behaving badly.

  A sound reached him, bubbling up from the woman he had pinned to the wall. Hayden opened his eyes, dazed to find his fangs grazing her throat. A throat encircled by the stinging burn of silver.

  Seconds of silence followed, in which neither of them dared to react. Then the woman’s hands were on his chest, pushing.

  Hayden leaned back, separating himself from what should have been sheer bliss with a viable partner, if he were merely a man. The finding of a lover on a warm, lovely night, who had very nearly succeeded in compromising his vow of blood celibacy.

  Who is she?

  The question repeated as he inched away, seeing something with this slight distance that he had missed before. This woman’s aura was outlined in red, as if traced by a crayon. Her agitation swirled in the air between them like a live entity. Her eyes flashed green fire.

  These changes had been mercurial, and a warning that she might be much more than she seemed. The blonde looked normal, but wasn’t. Not completely. His uninvited advance had unlocked a clue about her true Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

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  nature, setting part of her inner chaos free. That chaos had a name as black as her toenail polish.

  "Slayer," Hayden whispered with distaste, just before she slapped him hard with her open hand.

  The monster had her by the neck, unaffected by her slap, moving with a frightening speed. His eyes bored into hers.

  She was up against the brick wall, held there by the brute strength of his arm. The situation had gotten real messy, real fast; a worst case scenario coming true.

  Her glass fell to the ground and shattered.

  Moonlight melted over this stranger’s features, highlighting his cheekbones, casting shadows. If he’d been a werewolf, he would have been toast by now.

  But then she had already realized what he wasn’t, leaving just one other category to describe the speed, strength, looks and attraction to her blood.

  Vampire.

  Her heart gave one giant thump. Keeping both hands raised to ward him off, hoping that vampires possessed a thread of common sense, contrary to the legends, Kelsie said breathlessly, "Back off! There are a hundred people here, all of them witnesses."

  She should have been scared out of her mind. She should have shouted for help, but his hand on her throat was a caution against it. Staring back at this creature, Kelsie felt the kindling of her anger, in spite of the threat. There wasn’t any way to make this work, jobwise. She hadn’t wanted him, damn it—this creature who was unearthly handsome because he was 18

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  unearthly. He was interfering in a damn good stakeout.

  And—

  She might not live to have another thought of any kind if she just stood here.

  Luckily, he wasn’t pressing too hard on her neck, but using just enough pressure to keep her from squirming free.

  "Surely you wouldn’t be stupid enough to bite me so close to a crowd?" she protested.

  "You were waiting for me." His tone was accusatory. Darkness slipped behind the blue of his irises like free-flowing India ink.

  Kelsie’s stomach dropped at the sight. Her heart was beating so loudly, she couldn’t hear anything else.

  She knew she had to hang on to her anger. If she didn’t, she’d be totally helpless, totally screwed. No way did she want to become part of those missing-people statistics.

  "Vain, much?" she snapped, her fingers tugging on his.

  The vampire’s head angled. One raised eyebrow suggested he questioned her response.

  "I don’t want you, " she said. "I’m looking for a wolf."

  His hold eased. Visibly perplexed, he said, "Wolf?"

  "Why are you here, in public?" She didn’t sound so very pan
icky, she thought. If his grip loosened more, she could tear herself away.

  "I think you know the answer to that," he said.

  His tone was as seductive as the shadows, seeming to caress her chill-riddled skin everywhere at once, in sharp contrast to the reality of the situation. He had Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

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  just sampled some of that reason for being here from her punctured lip. Blood. An appalling thought, yet she’d be damned if she would show her reaction.

  Animals were attracted to weakness. Vampires were predators.

  "I’m not part of the snack bar," Kelsie said. "And none of your business."

  "On the contrary, your presence is of great concern to me."

  "Said like a true homicidal maniac. But I didn’t believe you existed. I’m not sure if I believe it now."

  "You know who I am?"

  "Don’t you mean what you are?"

  His eyes sought to deepen the connection. "You weren’t waiting for me?"

  "Get over yourself."

  He considered that reply. "You’d find a maniac preferable?"

  "Infinitely."

  The handsome devil gave her a stunning, if uncertain, grin, without offering visual evidence of his species. Kelsie didn’t have to see fangs to realize how serious her situation was. Each passing second made it more obvious that he wasn’t going away.

  He was toying with her.

  Vampires, Kelsie remembered, were little more than tricks of darkness and light, occupying the gray space between life and death. Not here fully, and not there. It was anyone’s guess how they survived at all, or why blood kept them activated.

  This one’s mouth had been on hers before she’d known it—a strange kind of introduction to the threat 20

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  of impending death by blood loss. But she was still alive.

  "Why do you want a wolf?" His eyes were keen and demanding, daring her to explore their baby-blue depths.

  Kelsie refused to answer. She hated being trapped by anyone or anything, anywhere. Her grandmother had raised her to be independent long before turning her loose on Miami. Years of martial arts would help her in another minute, she was sure, if she didn’t drop from fear or fangs first.

  "Wolves haven’t helped your kind in a century,"

  the vampire added. As if that made any sense at all.

  "Why don’t you have to wear a big V on your forehead to warn people who’s in the house?" Kelsie snapped, flicking her gaze upward briefly to see the darkness behind his eyes nearly overwhelm the blue.

  That darkness was a warning, she intuited. She had to power back her anger or risk further inciting his. A big sucker like this would be way too powerful to get away from if he marked her as a target. He could probably bite her and be gone before anyone noticed.

  So, why hadn’t he already done so?

  She swallowed hard. "Go away or I’ll scream."

  The threat sounded anemic.

  "Perhaps you’re right," he said.

  His voice was way too suggestive, deepened by unspoken sexual promise. Instead of backing off, though, he leaned more of his weight into her and whispered prophetically, "We can meet at a better time."

  The vampire, she was astounded to find, was solid, Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

  21

  and hard all over. His arousal was evident. The fact that vampires could be sexual creatures came as a shock to Kelsie, since most people would tend to think the only thing to worry about were the teeth.

  And as he leaned closer, the night…

  The night seemed suddenly to extinguish the light of the torches, blackness blending with the red tint of a disturbed moon. She and the vampire were drenched in moonlight that seemed to stick in her throat, choking off her next breath.

  When her eyes met his, all peripheral movement ceased. The club scene fell away into the distance.

  Adrenaline shot through her veins as the vampire’s blue eyes searched hers, seeking something. The intensity of their locked gazes was almost painful.

  Kelsie wanted to run, and keep on running, but couldn’t move a muscle. She wanted to nail this bloodsucker to the wall with his own teeth, ripped from his preposterous mouth.

  The moment was both deadly, and extremely erotic.

  A spark of wild attraction flared inside of Kelsie, burning as hot as the vampire’s touch. Hot, and intimate. She couldn’t look away to save her life.

  Her chills were history.

  The damned vampire didn’t back off or let up. He met her heat, degree by degree, with his hips tight to hers. His body called to hers seductively. The distant part of Kelsie still connected to her brain realized that this could very well be the end of her life and the loss of her soul, and yet she stood there. As he did. He seemed to be waiting for something with obvious wariness. What? A poke in the chest with a sharp 22

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  stick?

  In spite of thoughts of retaliation, Kelsie hadn’t gotten in so much as one solid punch. With each passing second in his wicked embrace, she lost more of the will to fight him off. Her anger had been twisted, maneuvered, and he had to be doing this, using that mesmerizing voodoo vampires were rumored to possess.

  She was in serious trouble. Already, her hips pressed back against his, independent of the inner red flags. Her unmentionable places dampened further, as if they might lure his greedy attention there. An uneasy feeling grew, deep down inside of her. The very core of her body wanted to know what this vampire had to offer. Chances were, the little devil on her shoulder whispered, he would have had years to perfect his bedroom skills.

  Not. Good.

  Needing to save herself, Kelsie scrambled for a last hold on reality, and found one. Facts. She was good at facts. And the main one here was that there was something decidedly wrong about a sexually charged vampire. Totally unfair. Slightly creepy.

  "Dream on." She said the words defiantly, resolutely. "Not with this girl. Not tonight or any other night."

  The realization of this statement being insincere was more frightening to her than anything else, and another hint that the fantasy heat trick the vampire had going for him was melting her judgment and inhibiting her ability to think straight. Why else would her imagination be conjuring up dangerously indecent Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

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  thoughts? About him?

  Damn it, she was wavering, and not nearly scared enough!

  In the midst of all the crashing thoughts and illicit cravings, while Kelsie’s mind reached for a firmer grasp on how to get out of this, the vampire’s lips brushed hers a second time, almost ghostlike.

  She closed her eyes.

  A brief pinch of pain woke her from her stupor.

  Ready to shove the damned vampire away, and back into the coffin he belonged in, Kelsie opened her eyes to find him near the doorway, looking at her over a broad, muscled shoulder.

  "Connor," he said soberly, as if he’d just caught her name out of the ether and it didn’t sit well. His eyes glinted. His blond hair settled to stillness against his chiseled cheek.

  Kelsie just stared, teeth clenched, face flushed, fear and anxiety and embarrassment merging into a tight ball of aggravation. He’d been the one to break the spell.

  And he knew her name.

  He’d be able to find her in the future, if vampires used phone books or the Internet. Hell, having tasted her, he might be able to find her in some other revolting way.

  He couldn’t have missed the way her body reacted to his. He might assume it was a permanent invitation.

  Seemingly in afterthought, the Other she hadn’t been expecting spoke again, with a glance up at the moon.

  "You want a wolf? Why not just call them?" he 24

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  suggested.

  Then he was gone.

  Giving in to the weakness in her knees, Kelsie slumped against the wall, lucky to be breathing. She’d had a serious mental and physical lapse. The arrogant bast
ard had gotten too damned close, and she had allowed it.

  She swiped at her lip with the back of her hand to erase the feel of his mouth, and felt wetness. Glancing at the spot of blood on her knuckle, she swayed. It was a monstrous find—blood made to appear darker by the ghastly moonlight.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs in protest. Both hands went to her neck. No blood there, thank God, but she did find a scratch that made her head go light.

  The bloodsucker had tried to bite her!

  Her gaze flew to the empty doorway. It took another minute to be able to speak. Tossing her hair out of her face with a quivering, bloodstained finger, she said with a rise of her Irish temper, "Yes, run, you lousy, bloodsucking son of a bitch."

  "Connor."

  Hayden pushed through the throng of people without stopping to return the attentions of the women eyeing him appreciatively.

  He needed time to think.

  It was absurd that after all these years he would stumble across one his old enemies. In Miami. In a nightclub. The enemy. One of the hellish Connor clan.

  The bane of his family’s existence for as long as he Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

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  could remember. Connor—the Irish equivalent of the Terminator in slaying his kind.

  No wonder the air had been disturbed and his attention captured. The question plaguing him now was why he hadn’t perceived the extent of the threat, even when it came in a delicious package. He had been all over her. Hell, he’d been aroused.

  What was a Connor was doing so far from Irish soil, anyway? She had to have followed him, lured him to her on purpose. It was the only explanation for the meeting.

  "Connor." Hayden reached the sidewalk without looking back, but didn’t get any farther. Her perfume wafted upward from his hands and his shirt. Her sweetness sat on his lips. His hand still smarted from closeness to that silver chain she wore.

  He glanced down the street. She would pursue him, no doubt about it. It’s what Slayers did.

  "You are a good liar, Connor. An actress of the highest caliber." Hayden closed his fingers over the burn on his palm. "You said you weren’t after me, and I nearly believed you."