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Just One Taste

Page 3

by C. J. Ellisson


  My hand makes contact with Iona’s starched uniform shirt and I slip into her mind. Her desires tumble close to the surface, like rainbow-colored snakes. Touching on a sliding thought, I see she hopes to be chosen to donate blood. Iona holds no hint of fear, even though she’s aware most of our guests are bloodsuckers. And she feels a strong family tie to me. In her mind, I’m like a great-aunt, one who holds a position of respect and kindness in her heart.

  “Are you sure donating is a step you want to take?” I ask.

  “Yes, very much so,” she says with sincerity.

  When she stared into my eyes, she had innocently offered herself to me, unaware that I do not normally feed from employees.

  “Iona, it would be with the guests, not with me. Is that still acceptable?”

  She again holds my gaze a little too long. “Yes.”

  “Sometimes it can lead to a more intimate encounter but only if you want it to. I make sure the guests know ahead of time how far you’re willing to take it.”

  “I’m ready.” Her voice sounds firm, certain. “My grandmother was Junee.”

  Ah, that’s why this strong Inuit woman seems so positive in her choice. Junee worked for us when we first opened our doors twenty years ago. She was an open and loving woman who enjoyed her position here for ten years.

  I’ve placed a compulsion on all the workers during their employment—they can share details of sexual acts, but not of the blood donation. When they leave, I take care of the rest of the details during a specialized exit interview.

  “Yes, my great aunt spoke of her very well,” I say, keeping to the ruse “my aunt” ran the inn first. The employees tell a tale every fifteen to eighteen years that’s kept us safe. After the original founder retired, then a niece and her husband ran it, and now it’s Rafe and me. I’ve inserted this belief with care into the minds of all who have worked for me while blurring our images a bit in the old employees’ memories so they think they see a family resemblance rather than realizing we’re the same people.

  “Very well,” I decide. “You’ll be put on the next list. Please review the guests and tell Tommy your choices this evening. Pick ones you like, and remember, it’s supposed to be fun.” I say the last part with a wicked smile on my face. “Don’t forget to tell him your limits,” I wink.

  I have a hunch Iona will choose a female vampire. Those long stares were quite bold and while she caught me off guard, I’m guessing they had true intent behind them. Time will tell.

  “Thank you, Vivian. I’ve been dreaming of this moment since the first week I started here.”

  Gee, no pressure there. Iona throws me a beaming smile before turning to rush back down the hall. Let’s hope the experience mirrors her dreams. To ensure it, I make a mental note to supervise part of her blood donation.

  Continuing my original journey to check the rest of the rooms in this wing, I make a detour on my return to check the items in the mini-fridge. All appears as it should, with the rooms ready and waiting. I leave the wing through the French doors and out to the bookcase-lined loft circling the vaulted lobby.

  I descend one side of the winding, dual staircase to the main floor to see Tommy working on the computer. Tommy’s our imported Aussie, who’s lived and worked on the property for five years. He glances up from his usual spot behind the front desk with a big smile on his face. Residing on the resort comes with perks, and Tommy’s ever hopeful he’ll be put on the donor list when he sees me.

  “G’day, Vivian, aren’t you looking good today?” His smile turns lecherous while I slowly run my hands over my hips and grin in return.

  “When do I not look good, Tommy?” Modesty has never been my forte.

  “Too true,” he replies. I drop my hands and he’s back to business in an instant, which is why he’s paid so well. “Isn’t the MacKellan party due in next?”

  “Yes,” I answer. “Move them down one to rooms seven, eight and nine now. We had an issue with the rug in room six, which won’t be available until new carpet can be installed.” I project honesty and sincerity and Tommy doesn’t bat an eye.

  “You got it, Viv, no worries.” He taps the changes into the keyboard and hands me a new file—which reminds me of some investigating I need to do. Damn that bloody corpse!

  “Tommy, have the Salvador and Natsuhara files sent to my suite in an hour, please.”

  He taps his fingers a few more times before glancing up.

  “Yes, ma'am. Consider it done.”

  I keep files on all our guests. The MacKellans are new so their file is thin. Checking it over, I confirm some details in my mind, placing names at the ready to match with faces when they arrive. MacKellan is the family, or seethe, named after the head vamp in the group. Individuals go only by first name unless conducting business outside of the seethe, and they all use the same surname. This convention makes it appear like the group is a big extended family, even though no one is related.

  The MacKellan group is a party of five—three vamps, one mate, and a companion. Which is a fairly big vampire party for us. Max we usually see is two. Not many in a seethe choose to vacation with another vamp tagging along. I’m glad to note they will need additional sustenance while staying with us, though. One extra companion for food won’t be enough with two younger vamps in attendance.

  Staying up around the clock requires additional feedings for our kind. Even I need a full feeding of a single pint each month with the added strain on my system. Normally, the sips I take from my husband a few times a week would be enough to keep me satisfied, but here in the dark winter wilderness, I need more.

  “Let me know if you feel like being a donor this week with our new guests,” I direct Tommy. “You can be at the top of the list if you’d like, I know it’s been a while for you.” He nods while his dimples show in a big smile. “Check them out when they arrive, choose who you’d be comfortable with and let me know.” I pause, thinking, and then add, “Put Iona down second on the list. I spoke to her before and she’s ready. Pass the word around to the others, but be discreet.” Tommy nods again, his sandy blond hair falling over his forehead. “You know my rules. I’d like the list with preferences by eight tomorrow morning.”

  You’d think I’d just given him an early Christmas bonus the way his face lights up. “You’re the best, Viv. Have I told you that lately?”

  “No need, dearie, Rafe tells me every night.”

  My accompanying grin is a wicked one as I turn towards the front doors. Pausing a moment, I consider the week ahead with this unknown group of vampires and the additional problem of the dead John Pierre. I need to make sure I’m at my peak. Turning back to the desk, I address that need.

  “One more thing. Call Jonathan and tell him I need to speak with him in my office at nine tonight.”

  “Got it,” Tommy replies, reaching for the phone.

  I redirect my mind to the work at hand. Needing to get in the right mood to project well when the new visitors arrive, I let my thoughts drift to the previous night with my German husband. His smooth, pale skin glowed in the candlelight set around our room. Rafe wore the tight boxer briefs he knows I love so well. They curve and cup his body and never hide when he becomes interested.

  The warmth in my middle starts to move throughout my limbs. A burning desire to pull my dress up around my waist right here in the lobby overcomes me. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, but I’d rather not forget myself in such a way more than once a season. My body shudders at the mere thought of doing just that in front of complete strangers.

  My treacherous mind thinks back to my husband’s rampant desire last night. I picture the stretchy fabric straining against his arousal while reining in the pull to get down on my knees to reach and peel the fabric away, springing him free. It’s all in my mind and I’d certainly appear odd on my knees to any onlooker in the lobby.

  Dria, I enjoyed last night, you minx. You warming up for the guests? I nod my assent. That’s my good girl. Remember the pa
rt with me on my knees? I loved how you couldn’t wait and had to press yourself into my tongue so early on… liebling, what you do to me…

  This time when I see Rafe in my mind, he’s straining against the front of his slacks instead of his briefs. His hand reaches to readjust…

  I slam our mental door shut when my hand reaches to pull up my hem. Whew, close call. After the guests get settled, I am going to have to track him down. I hope he hides. It’s so much fun to hunt him when we’re hot.

  I hear a van door slide closed and turn to face the front entrance. The first guest opens the door on a burst of frigid air that pushes the hair from around my face. A man walks through with a confident stride.

  Well, well, well, look what we have here. Isn’t he just gorgeous?

  Chapter Three

  “Welcome to The V V Inn. I’m Vivian, one of the owners. I’m here to help make your stay an enjoyable one.” Turning my inner thoughts out, I project sensuality through every pore. Between my legs I’m more than wet, which means I can smell my own arousal in the air. The other vampires can too, and I get hotter thinking about it.

  The man striding in from the main entrance has no mate on his arm. He’s olive-skinned with dark hair and brown eyes. Dressed in a custom-made black Italian suit, he saunters toward me. The power radiating off the handsome newcomer labels him a vampire like a calling card for the undead. I can tell by the tingling push against my skin he’s been dead about fifty years. It’s safe to assume he is not the head of this seethe. He must be the Antonio listed in my file.

  His eyes lock on mine while my desire coils about him like a snake. Approaching the front desk, his tan nostrils flare when he takes a deep sniff. “I’d heard this place was like candy for your soul,” he observes, “but I had no idea.” Like most predators, he zeros in on what he considers to be prey, not sparing a glance at the surrounding lobby.

  “You look good enough to eat.” His smile appears cold and calculated.

  This is the drawback to pushing sexual feelings at guests when they walk through the door. Some foolish recipients direct their reactions back at me instead of the people they came with. I can sense that this young vamp hopes to stir my interest and entice me closer. Since I’ve never answered to corny one-liners in my past, I don’t see why I should now.

  I smile, but don’t respond. My mother always told me if you don’t have something nice to say, not to say anything at all. I sometimes succeed in following her advice, but not often.

  It’s obvious I’m like him, undead, but he’s unable to guess my true age. Like all smart women, I hide my age well. Controlling what others of my species sense of my power is intentional. Old blood is desired by all of our kind, especially the young ones. It helps them to grow strong enough to survive being prey to a more powerful vampire. The younger members of a seethe are bound in this need to the head of their family through exchanged blood.

  Antonio’s gaze on my neck clearly indicates he hopes to taste my power and see what surprises my curvy body may hold. No matter how handsome I may find the young vamp, he will be disappointed. Although I may enjoy a good fantasy now and then, it doesn’t change the fact Rafe and I are married—neither of us will break our vows.

  That doesn’t mean I don’t share my power through my blood. I do. Blood can be enjoyed in other ways than the mouth-on-neck route. I’m more generous than most of my kind. We serve shots of my blood mixed with alcohol at the bar. Of course, it sells for a steep price.

  I decide to push a little with my mind to ensure Antonio sees me differently. With a delicate touch, I weave through his mind, inserting the thought to include me as his latest conquest would not be worth the trouble. The exchange is quick, going unnoticed by the new guest. Antonio turns to the desk to register, appearing less concerned with me. The tent in his tailored pants means he’s aroused though he can’t remember why.

  I repeat my greeting when the rest of the party comes through the double doors then take a step back to allow them some time to register. Again, I push with my desire, feeling my cravings wrap around their senses while invading their minds. They’ll experience warmth touching their skin as my emotions and thoughts seep in to become their own.

  The rest of the MacKellan group advances about twenty feet before they stop and stare up as the ceiling vaults away. All four are pulled into my web of desire but the three women react like a bunch of high school kids out drinking. Sounding giddy, almost carefree, they’re excited with their adventure and loving every moment. I hear jubilant sighs of “oh” and “ah” as they walk about while peering at the opulent surroundings. The electricity of the crafted moment gives them a high. A few bodies spin around to take in the grandeur of the lobby all at once.

  Light sparkles off the twisted glass of the mouth-blown chandelier. Well-polished wood banisters gleam in its soft light. Sounds bounce up off the wood floors, rising, only to be muffled by the three-story, book-lined landings that circle around the lobby.

  A svelte blond vampire whispers, “Do you feel that?”

  “I feel something,” Antonio states, turning from the desk.

  I note individual reactions to the space while watching the expressions run across their features. The female vamp who spoke looks like she’s close to going over the edge from the vibe I’m sending out. She breathes heavily, her lips parted, while her glassy eyes stare at nothing in particular.

  She looks ripe and I’m going to enjoy bringing her to completion. The energy signature pulsing from her feels young, close to Antonio’s age. This could be Joanna. Her black Goth attire looks cute on her athletic Barbie figure, but I bet cute wasn’t what she was hoping for when she picked it out this morning.

  The only other man in the group, Liam MacKellan, sends his energy out in a wave before him. His rude electric broadcast prickles my skin. It’s strong. Unless he blocks it like I do, it could get uncomfortable for me to be in a room with him for any length of time. I would judge him to be a little over three hundred, much younger than my own five hundred eighty years. He’s unquestionably the head of this seethe. His regal bearing and dominant strength remind me of a clansman of ages past. Liam may be dressed all in black, but I bet he’d look more at home painted blue, wearing a kilt, and wielding an axe.

  Liam’s hard countenance reveals nothing while he observes his surroundings. I know he feels my sexual projections but he’s much more controlled than the others. He’ll be a fun one to shake up this week.

  I assume it is his mate, the lush brunette, who has her hand resting in the nook of his arm. She could be the Francesca I have listed in my file, as her coloring reminds me of Italian blood. The woman holds herself with confidence and grace; she would have to be strong to hold her own with him.

  Last, I see a petite blond. By her pure smell, I can tell no vampire has laid claim to her yet. Interesting. They have fed from her, but there has been no mutual exchange of blood. I wonder why she was invited if she is not a servant. One companion is not enough to feed three vamps, so why bother to bring her at all? She is pretty in a sweet kind of way. I would almost call her innocent—except for the company she keeps. If I got Joanna’s name right, then this young thing must be Olivia.

  I can hardly contain my compulsive desire to touch them all and read their desires, but that will have to wait a bit longer. Fireworks first. I always like to start the trip off with a bang.

  I walk sedately to a nearby sitting area while enjoying the feel of the form-fitting dress embracing my lush curves. Listening to their chatter for the right time to begin my show, I know timing is crucial in a performance.

  Tommy explains some house rules with our guests while distributing room key cards. “Hungry for blood, please call the front desk. We have willing donors on the premises twenty-four hours a day. No sharing of blood with your donors. It’s a one-way transaction. Please do not use any vampire mind control to alter memories unless asked by Vivian or Rafe directly—and she will be checking.” Handing out the last key card,
he wraps up his spiel. “Tours and instruction of the third floor rooms will be given at noon tomorrow. Please call if you’d like a private viewing with one of the owners. All other information on the resort can be found in the binder in your room, including the directions for the items in your welcome basket.”

  Francesca coos with delight, “Oh, I love welcome baskets. I can hardly wait to see what’s inside!”

  Tommy’s answering grin is a knowing one. He has first-hand experience with what’s in those baskets. We give out samples of all the new toys to the staff when a shipment comes in. It’s a great way to ensure their proficient use of the intimate items.

  I try to tune out the rest of the playful banter between the guests by lowering myself into a comfortable chair. I love this part of my job. The first feel our visitors get when they arrive can set the tone for their whole vacation.

  Not many vampires have the power to project real-life illusions, and of those who can, none are able to fool their fellow undead—except for the rare ones like me. I’m the only powerful manipulator left of my kind. The rest have been hunted down and killed by the tribunal of ancients to ensure no vampire can mind control another.

  Who would guess they were vacationing with one of the best enforcers our vampire tribunal has ever seen? My high kill rate was always attributed to fighting skills and never my use of subtlety. Here, residing at a resort above the Arctic Circle, I hide to avoid the debilitating silver hood used to control my kind, while using my gift. The no-daylight setting, combined with my hidden skill, guarantees that everyone will have a good time, and my added proficiency ensures I’m never suspected.

  I cross my legs, debating how far to go tonight. This group has a lot of dynamics I’m unaware of but I’d like to take a risk and push the envelope. Opening my mate bond to see Rafe’s thoughts might help me decide.

  Reading my mind makes him smile. Go for it, Dria. But leave the employees be. Tommy’s already half in love with you, I suspect. You might want to try soothing them from their embarrassment afterward as well.

 

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