I nodded. “I understand.” I wanted to tell him I craved blood and that I’d almost drunk from Dorian today. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Embarrassment over the almost sexual nature of my desires held me back. They seemed overwhelming, and I wasn’t sure how to control them.
He patted my shoulder. “Don’t misunderstand me. Craving blood is part of who you are now. The time will come when you will drink.” He paused and his eyes dilated. I saw a flash of what he must’ve been like as a Hunter. The image scared me, but the look left his face almost as quickly as it’d appeared. “There are two things you must promise me.”
I swallowed and cleared my throat. “What?”
He held up a finger. “Promise me you won’t drink from the same human twice.” A second finger went up. “And two, promise me you won’t drink for more than ten seconds. Any more and there is a possibility you’ll kill the human from blood loss or your blood lust. Can you do that for me, please?”
I suddenly felt parched. The idea of consuming blood caused my muscles to tense with need.
“Snow?”
“I promise,” I agreed, though, at that moment, I would’ve agreed to anything. He hadn’t given me the green light to bite, but he said it was bound to happen. I wanted it to happen sooner rather than later.
“And, Snow?” I focused and was met with his piercing eyes.
“Yes?”
“Gabe—”
“I’m what?” Gabe stood in the doorway, looking smug.
I ground my teeth. Why were the guys constantly interrupting Professor Pops when he mentioned Gabe? Almost as though they had a sixth sense or something.
“Hi, Gabe,” I said shyly. It was weird seeing him in this room full of supernatural creatures.
Professor Pops cleared his throat and I turned. “Why don’t you go home tonight, get caught up on your school work and get some rest. Come tomorrow, after I’ve talked to the boys. Your training will begin.”
Gabe gave Professor Pops an unreadable look. “Will she be safe?” Gabe asked, his face tight with unspoken worry.
“I’m fairly certain no one will come after her until she turns sixteen.” He raised a hand and rubbed it over his face. “Which reminds me, what’s your favorite birthday cake flavor?”
I blanked. I hadn’t had cake since my mother died. Right after her funeral I’d decided I wouldn’t eat anything that had been killed.
“Um,” I glanced at Gabe, though I have no idea why. He was a total meat eater. “Can you make cakes without eggs?”
“Someone can. I intend to hire the best. What’ll it be? Chocolate? Vanilla?”
A twisted smile spread over my face. “Red velvet.”
Gabe and Professor Pops laughed.
“Perfect. I’ll get on it. And your favored color?”
I didn’t have a favorite color. I’d always liked purple because of my mom.
Gabe answered for me. “Her favorite color is purple.”
“Purple or red.” I gazed at my shirt and then at Professor Pops. “I’ve always really liked glittering red.”
“Excellent. See you tomorrow, Snow.” Professor Pops waved us away as he went back toward the Downy Fairy.
“I’ll walk you home,” Gabe said, his smile tight.
Chapter 9
“Since when did you start liking red?” Gabe and I walked side by side at a slow pace toward my house.
I offered him a sideways smile. It gave me butterflies to know that Gabe paid attention. A glowy, tingly happiness bloomed in my chest. “Since the first time I saw Dorothy’s shoes on The Wizard of Oz. Probably at age three or four.” I stuffed my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “Then my mom died and most of the stuff I kept of hers was purple, so I sort of adopted it as my favorite as well.”
“Huh,” Gabe grunted.
“I’d guess your favorite color is…” I considered. His car was silver. His room looked like a shrine to the Celtics, but he wore a lot of white and blue. “Either green or blue,” I said.
He smirked. “You were thinking about my room, weren’t you?”
I nodded.
“I guess it’s green.” He grabbed my hand and stopped so that I turned toward him. His heartbeat pounded rapidly. With gentle fingers he caressed my cheek, stroked my hair. “I’ve always loved the color of your hair.”
I blushed and lowered my head. “You have?”
He played with the ends, twirling a strand in his finger. “It changes color in the light. Sometimes it’s black, other times there seem to be blond highlights. It’s magical.” He released my hair and lifted my chin. “Like you, Snowflake.”
“I’m not.” My cheeks burned hotter. The bloodlust grew a couple of degrees. Would Gabe offer his blood to me the way Dorian had? At the thought, my heart began to match Gabe’s beat for beat.
“Snow…” he hesitated. Curious, I searched his face. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”
“I’ve liked you, too.” I returned. The sun gleamed through the thick trees, causing rays of sunlight to streak through Gabe’s face. Half of his face was shadowed and the other half shone in the light.
“No, I mean liked, liked you.”
I finally got what he meant, and nearly smacked myself in the forehead with the palm of my hand.
“I didn’t know. I thought you thought of me as just a sister.” A mixture of gladness and nervousness swirled in my stomach. I’d only just discovered he liked me. Before we had a chance to find out what that meant, the Hunter had bitten me. It didn’t seem fair.
He grabbed my hands. “I think of you in ways much different than I would a sister.” A mischievous gleam sparkled in his eyes.
I giggled, glancing at my shoes.
He leaned in and I realized he was about to kiss me—which reminded me I’d kissed Christopher today, which reminded me I almost drank from Dorian today, which made me feel like a total sleaze.
“I’ve got to go.”
I turned and ran. Fast. And I didn’t trip once.
Chapter 10
As soon as I unlocked the door Gatsby was there, weaving between my feet and meowing like he was mortally wounded. “Hi kitty. I know you’re hungry. Sorry, boy.” I scooped him up and scratched behind his ears the way he liked. Today he squirmed in my arms unhappy. I put him down. “Okay. Okay.”
Grabbing his bowl, I filled it with kitty kibble and set it on the floor. He rushed over and started eating. I poured him some water, washed my hands, and snatched some almonds from the refrigerator to snack on while I did my homework.
In quick succession I got my math assignments done, conjugated my Spanish verbs, and studied for my chemistry and social studies quizzes. Then I made myself some whole-wheat pasta and watched the latest episode of Survivor. Gatsby jumped on the couch and into my lap. I was glad he’d forgiven me for ignoring him the last few days.
Around ten o’clock I went to my room, washed my face, and changed into my flowered flannel pajamas. Once I was in bed and Gatsby had situated himself, I turned off the light and closed my eyes.
Immediately I was whisked away into the other realm, her realm. I stood on a balcony in a large white castle. From my position I could see the beautiful countryside. It was dusk. The descending sun bathed the landscape in twinkling light. I wore a long dress, the skirts abundant, and they swished when I moved. The sleeves were short and the bodice tight. It was a deep burgundy with a dark grey ribbing. The shoes I wore pinched as I made my way into the room.
A large headboard rested against the far wall directly in the middle. Lush gold bed coverings and pillows covered it. The windows were stained glass. In one corner was a large, round mirror. I gasped at its familiarity. This was the mirror, the one the wicked Queen used in the Snow White movie. I wondered what would happen when I stepped in front of the mirror.
The person reflected back at me was stunning, her black hair piled high, her lips blood red and skin luminescent as the moon. I turned, and she copied. I lifted my hand, an
d she did the same.
“It’s me,” I said, awed.
“My beautiful Queen. You truly are the fairest in the land.”
My hand froze in midair. The voice was Christopher’s. I noticed him now, seated in a chair dressed in lavish clothing: Black pants, black boots extended over his knees, and a burgundy jacket that matched my dress.
“What’s going on?” I asked, watching him through the mirror’s reflection. He rose, and my breath hitched. His blond hair had been combed off his forehead, making his hazel eyes vibrant against his tanned skin. Excitement fluttered through my veins. More than his incredible looks were the fireworks bombarding my heart. We belonged together, it whispered with each beat.
“Why can I see your face?” I asked as I turned away from the mirror. His features blurred behind a thick darkness so I could only see his red eyes. I returned my gaze to the mirror, checking him out in the reflection.
He smiled. “The mirror reveals the truth, Snow.” He came toward me, stalking me. I wondered if there’d ever been more willing prey.
I wanted to taste him, try his blood. Professor Pops’ words came into my mind:
“Never drink from the same human twice. Never more than ten seconds.”
Christopher took my hands and led me to the bed. I didn’t like that his face was hidden from me, but my longing for him rocked strong enough so that I dismissed it. He lay me down and then he lay down next to me so that we were eye to eye.
“You want me, don’t you?” It was a question, but he knew the answer. I heard it in his voice.
“Yes.”
He tilted his neck in my direction and my fangs grew instantly. I pressed my lips to his delicious, warm throat. His skin parted as I sought his blood. When the first drops touched my teeth, I panted and sucked harder. I had nothing to compare to the pleasure I experienced as his blood filled my mouth, ran down my throat, and filled me in ways I never believed existed. To my mind there wasn’t anything better than that moment.
After a time Christopher spoke my name. “Snow.” I felt drunk with his enchanting blood as I lifted my lips from his neck. He smiled, his hazel eyes iridescent with hunger. “Can you see my face?”
I focused and realized why I thought he’d looked familiar. “Charming?”
He smirked and pulled me on top of him. “My turn,” he said. I tilted my neck back, giving him full access, and let out a moan as he drank.
Uneasiness formed in my belly, knowing the Hunter was none other than the new guy, Chace Charming, Salem High Hottie. I remembered what Professor Pops said about Christopher being a master manipulator, about his magic being able to change things, including the way he looked.
Chace-slash-Christopher must’ve sensed my apprehension. He rolled us, placing me under him, his lips never leaving my neck.
I sighed, giving in to the immeasurable pleasure of the moment.
“Christopher,” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him ever closer.
The Vampire Christopher 1.3
Chapter 1
“Do good and evil exist?” Christopher asked, searching my eyes, looking for something I didn’t think I possessed.
“I believe so,” I answered, nodding.
He kissed my neck and sat up, crossing his well-defined legs. I wasn’t ready to be done kissing him, drinking from him, but I wanted to know where he was going with his question. Reluctantly I lifted myself from my prostrate position and crossed my legs so I sat opposite him on the bed.
We were still in the castle in another realm. Lush throw pillows were pushed to the floor and surrounded us like piranha swarming their food.
Until a few moments ago, I’d been too busy enjoying the taste of Chace, aka Christopher, aka my Hunter, and hadn’t cared about anything else. Now that he’d spoken, lots of unanswered questions surfaced.
Like, what was the name of this realm? Why did he keep bringing me here, and where exactly was here?
Christopher seized my hand. “Sweet, beautiful, Snow,” he said, caressing my knuckles. “In my years serving the Queen, I’ve learned one thing. Words like good and evil are relative terms.”
“What do you mean? To kill someone is evil.” I crossed my arms, waiting to hear how he’d BS his way out of that.
“What if that someone is the enemy in a war? It’s kill or be killed. Would he be considered evil for protecting himself, his loved ones, his home, his country?” He grinned sweetly, running his fingers along my jaw.
My mouth fell open. I wanted to say yes, but Professor Pops had explained I would be learning how to kill supernatural creatures, that we were on the brink of war. If I killed to protect myself, would that make me evil?
“Ugh, okay. Where are you going with this?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
He chuckled and climbed off the bed, readjusting his clothes. When he finished, he grabbed my hand, pulling me onto my feet.
“In Buddhism,” he began, “good and evil don’t exist, per se. Instead there is kusala and akusala. Kusala is considered to be intelligence, contented, beneficial, and a remover of affliction. Akusala is, quite simply, the opposite, or unintelligent, causer of affliction, and so on. Which boils down to this: what is evil to one person may be good to another. Life and everything in it is about your perception.”
Christopher’s words echoed in my mind. I wanted him to explain further, but a sudden and infuriating beeping interrupted.
My alarm clock.
Upon opening my eyes, my Hunter and the other realm vanished. With a sigh I reached over, shut off the clock, and rolled onto my back. I hadn’t slept. At least I didn’t think so. The entire night spent with my Hunter; we hadn’t done more than talk, kiss, and bite each other’s necks, but the experience left me breathless. It’d been intimate.
I tried to imagine bringing Christopher into my silly little girl’s room and flushed. Lavender walls held up posters of bunnies, kittens, and puppies. Across from me was my chest of drawers, also lavender, and atop it sat unused perfume bottles. Above it hung a corkboard filled with pictures of Cindy and me, as well as pictures of my best friends—the guys. To the left of my dresser was my bathroom and, next to that on the same wall, lived my closet.
“Ugh, I’m so over purple,” I muttered, climbing out of bed and heading into the bathroom where bright purple towels hung on a rack next to a bright purple shower curtain. I turned on the water and undressed while the water warmed. Stepping in, I let the warm water soothe away my tension.
I couldn’t help thinking about the past four days. In that time I’d managed to become a revenant—not quite human, not quite vampire. I’d slept in the same bed with Gabe, one of my best friends on whom I’d developed a crush. Nearly bitten Dorian. And kissed, drank from, and kissed some more, my Hunter.
Sheesh!
I wasn’t that kind of girl; well, I hadn’t been for the past fifteen and a half years. Sure, I’d had sleepovers with all seven brothers in the past, but still… I’d never felt such lustful cravings or been so wanton as I was with Chace, aka Christopher. He brought out feelings in me, needs I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. At the thought of him touching me, kissing me, whispering tenderly to me, my belly fluttered and I groaned.
“I don’t have time for this,” I grumbled, rinsing off and getting out of the shower.
I dressed in faded jeans, a red Ed Hardy tee shirt with a dragon slithering across the front, and my Converse. In the full-length mirror near my closet I noticed several bruises on my neck and stepped closer for a better look. In the center of the bruises were twin marks closed over by scar tissue.
No one had been able to see marks after Christopher bit me the first time, but I wasn’t so sure about the bruises. Going to my dresser, I pulled open the top drawer, and took out a silk and cashmere scarf in baby blue. My dad and stepmother gave it to me for Christmas last year because they said it matched my eyes. After wrapping it around my neck several times so the bruises were hidden, I stared at my refle
ction.
“Today is going to be a regular day.” I snorted. It couldn’t get any weirder. I’d become a blood drinking supernatural creature, for crying out loud. “Ugh! Come on, kitty,” I grumbled, opening my bedroom door. Gatsby stretched, jumped off my bed, and followed me downstairs.
As I entered the kitchen a brief knock sounded at the back door, followed by Heathcliff, Bart, Gabe, and Dorian. They were a breath of fresh air, full of exuberance and raw energy.
“Hey, Snow,” Dorian said, closing the door behind him.
Gabe carried a large book. He held it like its contents were leprous, and I had to grin. “Hi, guys.”
Heathcliff and Bart returned my greeting as they made themselves at home, rummaging through my fridge and cupboards, grumbling about how I had nothing good to eat. Bart started a pot of coffee and Heathcliff, ever the responsible one, put some water on for my tea.
I quickly got Gatsby his kibble and some water. When the cat was happily eating, I turned my attention to Gabe. “What ya got there?” I sat on a bar stool and swiveled closer.
He glanced around sheepishly before heaving the book on the counter. Moments before I saw the cover up close, I’d imagined it to be a book from Professor Pops’ Museum of the Supernatural, and worried Gabe stole it. Turned out to be nothing mystical, just a book of dresses by the designer Vera Wang.
I was most definitely not a fashionista. On the contrary, I didn’t even really know what the word meant, only that Cindy used it a lot when showing me clothes from her magazines, but I had heard of Vera Wang and knew she was a big time designer.
Whoa!
“Professor Pops asked me to bring this to you so that you could go through it and pick out a dress.”
I laughed, uncomfortable. “A dress for what?”
“Your birthday party, silly,” Bart said, pulling my hair.
“Dude,” Gabe yelled.
“Boys, chill,” I said, putting a hand on each of their chests. The individual beating of their hearts momentarily distracted me. It didn’t make my mouth water, just caused me to pause.
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