A Vampire Bundle

by Alexandra Ivy

  “Oh. Yes. I suppose that would help.” She dug through the contents of her purse until she produced an envelope from an electric bill and a pen with a chewed-up cap. “Please ignore the mangled cap. My boss eats all my pens.” She handed them to him.

  “Not a problem.” He set the book on his bent knee and used it as a makeshift desk as he wrote the directions on the envelope. “I’ll see you later, then. Maybe we can get some coffee?” He handed the envelope and pen back to her. His fingers brushed hers and another wave of warmth spread through his body, leaving ripples of wanting in its wake.

  “I’m not much of a coffee drinker, especially at night. I’d be up all night long if I drank even half a cup.” She smiled.

  He swallowed a goofy sigh. That was one killer smile. He wondered if she knew how deadly it was to a guy. His lower parts ached, and his teeth ached from gritting against the other ache. He was just an overall aching mess. “Fair enough.” He stood there, book in hand, feeling awkward and self-conscious and very, very horny. The horny part didn’t surprise him but the awkward and self-conscious part did. He’d had more than his share of women in his bed. Why did this one make him feel so flustered and unsure? It wasn’t like she’d done anything to make him feel that way. Chatty, friendly, and cute, she hardly gave a superior air. Yet when she looked at him with those golden-brown eyes, he squirmed like a kindergartner in church.

  He hoped by tonight he’d be back to his cool, composed self. More than that, he hoped he could keep his true nature from her for just a little longer. She needed more time yet. More time to accept the impossible.

  Chapter 3

  After work, Sophie made a quick stop at Dao’s house. Lisse answered the door, shooing her away by telling her Dao was sleeping but had a doctor’s appointment in the morning. Sophie wasn’t sure if she believed her, but at the moment she was willing to trust Lisse was telling the truth.

  She hurried home, picked at a Lean Cuisine, and freshened up, changing into a comfy pair of jeans and white top that showed off the hint of an early summer tan. She slid on a pair of high-heeled mules to make her stumpy legs look a little longer and headed out to the campus.

  It had been a while since she’d been on a college campus, eight years to be exact. But she still remembered the feeling of being a student, racing across campus to make her next class, cramming for exams, going to parties in cramped dorm rooms. The memories made her smile. The parking situation, however, didn’t.

  She found Adams Hall without a problem. A three-story structure of glass and steel, it sat in the middle of a circle of similar buildings. The shared parking lot was at least a couple of football field lengths away. And crammed to capacity. Sure, if she’d waited until after eight-thirty to arrive, it probably would’ve been empty, but Sophie had to admit she was so anxious to see the good-looking professor—for a number of reasons—she hadn’t wanted to wait. As a result, she was twenty minutes early and forced to search the back fifty for an empty spot.

  After she found one, a tight spot between two mammoth SUVs, she parked her subcompact, did a final hair and make-up check, and then hurried toward the building. About halfway across the parking lot, the sky opened and half an ocean—or so it seemed—dumped from the clouds in the kind of torrent Michigan is apt to see in early summer. Within seconds, she was drenched to the skin and the victim of a nasty case of goose bumps. If only she’d thought to bring an umbrella!

  She briefly considered turning around and heading home, but as she stood, dripping, just inside the doorway, Ric’s smooth, deep voice coming from a classroom close by inspired her to cast that notion aside.

  So what if she was a tiny bit wet and her shoes made obscene noises when she walked? A little water never hurt anyone. For all she knew, Dao was near death, being Lisse’s primary food source. She owed it to him to buck up and do what she must to find him some help, whether it was from a more traditional source or nontraditional.

  If a professor of science at a university believed in a lamia, who was she to question it? A guy with the initials PhD after his name had to know more than she did, with her BA.

  Sophie stood outside of room 103 and listened as he answered a couple of last-minute questions about the next day’s assignment. Then she heard the telltale sounds of zillions of shuffling feet as the attendees headed for the door. Feeling out of place, she stood like a sentry outside the door, waiting for the last few stragglers to leave before she ventured inside. The curious stares she was gathering by students as they wandered past made her nervous and uncomfortable on top of cold. All in all, within seconds she was so miserable, she was ready to make a hasty exit. Maybe she could borrow a copy of that book from another library.

  She did an about-face and took a step down the hall.

  “There you are…oh. Is that you, Sophie?” she heard Ric say behind her.

  Too late. Oh well. Gathering what remained of her dignity, she pasted on a smile and turned around. “Yes. It’s me. I was just waiting for your students to clear out before I came in.” A huge droplet of water dripped from her bangs and landed on the bridge of her nose. Following the law of gravity, it slid down to the tip and hung there.

  Ric’s gaze followed its path until she swiped the stupid thing away.

  Within a heartbeat, she was wishing she had a second water droplet to distract him.

  His warm gaze wandered lower, following the line of her neck to her shoulders. It dropped about four inches lower, then didn’t budge. All it took was a quick glance down to see why. The torrent in the parking lot had made her formerly cute white shirt absolutely obscene. It was almost completely translucent now. The lines of her bra showed crystal clear, and even more disturbing, two pink nipples poked at the fabric.

  “Oh my God!” She gasped and promptly folded her arms over her chest. Her face flamed. So did a few other parts.

  Ric’s eyes widened, then darted in another direction. He mumbled something that was probably an apology, but with her mind screaming a few dozen curse words, she didn’t hear him. He caught her shoulder in one of his huge hands and pulled. “Come inside. You can wear my jacket. You must be cold.”

  She could guess where he got that idea from! “Thanks. I’m freezing. Wouldn’t you know it? Out of nowhere it just started pouring. I hate this time of year.” She stepped into the classroom but hung back by the door, letting him go past her. He pulled a tweed jacket off the back of his chair and handed it to her.

  Her heart sank. That wasn’t the kind of jacket she was hoping for. That jacket looked like the kind that would get ruined easily. But it did look cozy. “Oh, I don’t know. This looks like an expensive jacket. I’ll get it all wet—”

  “I’m not worried about it. Please.” He held the jacket by the shoulders and rounded Sophie. “You look like you’re freezing.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” She stuffed her right arm through one sleeve, then twisted slightly to find the other one with her left hand. Her shoulder brushed against Ric as she slid her hand into the opening. She found herself short of breath all over again. This guy had a real talent for stopping all normal biological processes in a girl. She voluntarily sucked in a deep breath and turned, whispering, “Thanks” when she was facing him full front.

  His chin tipped down as he regarded her with eyes that seemed more gold than brown, unlike earlier. His fingers skimmed the length of her arms, then caught the collar. “My pleasure.” He straightened the collar—must’ve been lopsided. When he blinked, his eyes shone even more gold, like the color of a cat’s eyes.

  That warm, velvet sensation fluttered through her head again, setting her heart rate into triple time. She tried to think of something funny and clever to say, something to break the spell that seemed to be tangling itself around her, snarling the impulses charging through her brain. “I…I…”

  His head tipped to the side. His eyelids fell to half-mast, partly obscuring those bizarre gold eyes. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

  Oh my God, he’s
going to kiss me!

  She closed her eyes, dragged in a deep breath, and waited, knowing it would be the kiss of a lifetime, like none she’d ever experienced.

  Unfortunately, no sooner did his warm, moist lips make contact with hers than a voice called from somewhere behind them, “Professor Vogel?”

  Interrupted again! Dammit.

  That young person’s voice acted like a bucket of ice water falling from the sky, completely quenching the spark that brief kiss had just begun to ignite. She twisted her neck to look one way. Ric looked the other. The result was impact between her forehead and his nose.

  He yelped in surprise. Both his hands flew to his face. “Yes, yes. Matt?”

  “Sorry, Professor Vogel. I came back here to ask you a question about Monday night’s assignment.” The young man’s nervous gaze hip-hopped from Ric to Sophie, then back to Ric again. “I can call your office Monday morning if that would be better.”

  Apparently checking his nose for a fracture, Ric said, “No, that’s okay. What’s your question?”

  “I was just wondering if we had to answer the questions on the section on sexual reproduction or just asexual?”

  Sophie snorted through her nose.

  Ric gave her a one-eyebrow-lifted, teary-eyed glance, then turned to Matt and said, “You need to read the entire chapter and answer all the questions at the end of each section.”

  “Okay. Sorry for, er, interrupting. I didn’t think you’d have company.”

  “We’re doing some…research,” Ric said, motioning toward Sophie.

  “Yeah. Sure. If that’s what you want to call it.” He chuckled, then called over his shoulder as he walked back to the door, “I think I’ll put in my application for department student research assistant if this is the kind of research the bio department is doing.” He shut the door behind him.

  Sophie laughed. “Smart kid. Is it broken?” She pointed at Ric’s nose.

  “No. Just sore. Maybe we should take this back to my office. It’s a little more private. We won’t have any more interruptions.”

  That last word sent a shudder of expectation down her spine. She’d never done it in a university professor’s office before. Sounded like fun. “Sure. Okay. Say, what’s this about sexual reproduction? I thought you were a biology teacher, not sex ed.”

  He gave her a martyred look tempered with just the slightest smile. “We don’t teach sex ed in college. The chapter’s on cellular reproduction, not human reproduction.” He gathered some things from his desk, including the book from the library, then opened the door for her. “Some people’s minds.”

  “What can I say? I hear the word sex, I tend to think in human terms. I’d say that’s pretty ordinary,” she teased as she fell into step beside him.

  Moments later Sophie and Ric made themselves comfortable in his closet-sized office—the size of which was fine by her. The closer she was to the hunky professor the better. She asked, “Can I ask you a stupid question?”

  “Fire away.” He stretched his arms overhead. What a view! Thanks to the well-fitting, short-sleeved shirt he wore, she could see all the yummy planes and ridges of his sculpted chest and arms. Sure she was about to melt, she fanned herself with the nearest scrap of paper she could get in her hands.

  “Are you warm?”

  “Just a little.”

  “You could take off the jacket.” His gaze dropped to her chest; then he said, “On second thought, I could open the door.” He pressed his palms to the desktop as he started to rise from his chair.

  “Oh no!” she said, halting him. “I’m fine. Really. I’ll take privacy over creature comforts any day.”

  “Okay. But you’ll let me know if it gets too hot?”

  “You betcha.”

  He settled back into his chair again. She drank in the sight of him, so yummy in so many ways. Perfect hair, perfect face, weirdly wonderful eyes that again looked like molten chocolate. Shoulders, chest, narrow waist and hips. She could hardly believe she was in this room with this man. And even more, she could hardly believe he seemed to be flirting with her! No one who looked like he did ever gave her a second look, let alone a come-hither one.

  “You wanted to ask me a question?” he said a few moments later, probably feeling weird being ogled again. She was definitely stuck in ogle mode.

  “Oh, yeah. Um. Well, why is a professor of natural science doing research on religious relics? I’d expect that to be appropriate research material for a professor of religious studies or even history. But biology? What would an old spear and shield have to do with cellular reproduction?”

  “More than you might think.”

  She leaned forward, intrigued. When he didn’t elaborate, she said, “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “For now.”

  “Meanie.”

  He chuckled as he cracked open the book and thumbed through several pages. She liked the way his voice seemed to frolic with her insides like a bouncy puppy. She also liked the way he moved his fingers. They looked deft and capable of doing some wonderful things to choice parts of her anatomy. She fanned herself again but the bitty scrap of paper did nothing to cool her flaming face.

  “This is the only book I’ve found that refers to the Spear of Joshua, or Romakh Yehowshu’a, and Shield of David, Mawgane Dahveed.”

  “Do you think they really exist?”

  “Yes, I do. But I’m beginning to wonder if they are literally a spear and shield.”

  “If they aren’t, what would they be?”

  “Well, the Bible’s full of metaphors and symbols. There are those who believe every word is to be taken literally and those who believe none of it should. I’m somewhere in the middle. Some of the historical references have been collaborated by extrabiblical sources.”

  “I see you’ve done your homework here. I’m impressed. I can’t say I’ve read the Bible cover to cover. I’ve read bits and pieces, the popular stories mostly, like the stories of Noah and Adam and Eve.”

  “Do you know who David and Joshua were?”

  She rummaged through the deepest recesses of her mind where she stowed little-used facts learned when she was a kid. “David was the kid who killed the giant Goliath, right?”

  “Yes, he did that, among other things.” Ric rested his elbows on the desktop and steepled his fingers. His forefingers rested just below his lips. Adorable lips. Kissable lips. “And Joshua?”

  “I’m a little rusty on the Bible but, I vaguely remember he was a warrior of some kind, I think,” she answered, still staring at his mouth.

  “Yes. That’s correct.”

  She already knew he would taste wonderful, sweet and spicy. She wondered if he’d object if she took up where they’d left off in the classroom.

  “So, uh.” She leaned forward. He leaned back. Guess he wasn’t in the mood for a lip-lock now. Bummer! What were they talking about? Oh yeah. David. “Why wouldn’t you think they were literal if the guys were real? Didn’t David have a shield when he fought Goliath?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Oh.” She let her gaze wander for a few. It decided to take a rest on his shoulders for a while. After all, that was some rough terrain, climbing all those bulges and bumps. She fanned herself harder.

  Concentrate, you hussy! This is for Dao, the guy who held you together after your sister died. Remember him?

  That chastisement cooled her raging hormones considerably, and her foggy head cleared a bit too.

  “If you remember the story, David went before the giant with no sword or shield. He had his slingshot and a handful of stones.”

  “I guess I forgot that part. I feel a little stupid. I should know this stuff, went to Catholic schools for years.”

  “Don’t feel stupid. There are parts of the Bible I know nothing about too.”

  His confession didn’t make her feel a whole lot better but she continued the conversation anyway. Obviously the time of impressing him with her knowledge of all thing
s biblical had passed. It was time to get answers. For Dao. “Didn’t Joshua have a spear when he fought with…whoever he fought with?”

  “Yes.”

  “And didn’t David eventually fight with a shield against somebody?”

  “Most likely.”

  “Then there you go! What makes you think the spear and shield aren’t literally an old spear and shield?”

  He pursed his lips, then drew them into a long, narrow line. Yet his face was still as sexy and perfect as it had been before. “Tradition for one. The Magen David is the Star of David, the symbol worn by the Jewish. The six-pointed star. According to tradition it has magical powers and appeared on King David’s shield and King Solomon’s ring.”

  She struggled to keep from falling back into lust mode again. Parts south of her waist refused to listen. “So we’re looking for something with the Star of David on it?”

  “Perhaps, and then again, maybe not. I read something once…” He shuffled through the stack of papers sitting next to the book. “This was written about thirty years ago. I think the author was ahead of his time.” He pulled out a smudgy copy of an article and set it in front of her.

  She scanned the page. “This is from that tabloid you see at the grocery store? The one with stories of Mary’s likeness burned into roast beef or promises of the Second Coming written in tea leaves?”

  He shrugged. “At the time it was probably the only medium that would take this story seriously enough to print it.”

  “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

  “You said you had an open mind,” he challenged, his gaze drilling hers until she squirmed, for more than one reason. “Read the whole thing before you make a judgment. We must know what we are searching for before we can find it.”

  “That part I can agree with.” She gave him a quick questioning glance, which was answered with a slight shake of his head. Then she dropped her eyes to the article and started reading.