The Sirens of SaSS Anthology

by Anthology

  All the listings I’d found were sent via email and then he’d send his assistant to go view the home for him. Nigel, his human assistant, was a sweetie, so I didn’t mind working with him.

  And I had found this house.

  Against all odds, I’d found a large home on six acres of land, fully renovated and upgraded, with a walk-in safe and a section of the finished basement that had no windows in it. There was no panic room and there were definitely some rooms that needed ceiling fans added, but the house was almost perfect.

  And Nigel was coming back to see the house for a second time.

  “I’ve got this,” I said, opening my eyes. Night had fallen but the other realtor had left the outdoor lights on. The house was stunning at night: a sprawling two-story estate that overlooked the Potomac. This place would be a beast to get in and out of if it snowed, but hopefully my client didn’t think of that.

  Glancing at the clock, my heart tripped up. Crap. Nigel would be here any minute, and I was still sitting in my car.

  I sprang into action, snatching my purse off the seat as I turned off the car. Throwing open the door, I winced as cold air barreled into the car. Winter was in full swing, and I couldn’t wait to get home to change out of my heels and the smart, black pencil skirt, and the cute white blouse that was sleeveless and had a thin section of dainty ruffles down the middle. I loved the shirt. It was cute yet sexy and stylish, but it was a wee bit constrictive in the breast area. My outfit was darling, but even with the wool coat, I was freezing as I raced up the flagstone walkway and to the front door. All I wanted was my oversized, comfy sweats that had holes in places they shouldn’t and my old Radford University sweater.

  A kernel of discontent formed in my belly. It was a Friday night, and all I wanted was to go home, but was that what I really wanted? Yes … and no. Lately, I’d been left feeling like I was missing out on something—on life. And if I was being brutally honest with myself, I’d been feeling like this long before the divorce.

  It was one of the reasons why the divorce was initiated in the first place. Nick, my ex, he deserved—well, he deserved better. He deserved love and lust and friendship and all the wonderful things that made a marriage work.

  All we had was the friendship part, and somewhere over the last eight years we’d become roomies and not husband and wife. So when he filed for divorce, I hadn’t been surprised.

  I shook off the feeling. Now was not the time to self-analyze and wonder what the hell was wrong with me. I could do that later when it was two in the morning and I couldn’t sleep.

  Punching my code into the lockbox, I opened the door and rushed in as the wind seemed to chase after me, lifting the edges of my hair. The entryway light was already on, so I hurried toward the small closet as I shrugged off my jacket. I hung it on the hanger and tucked my purse inside, keeping my phone in my hand.

  I had only minutes to spare before Nigel arrived, so I turned on the lights in the kitchen and the spacious front room. If I had more time, I’d turn on all the lights.

  Quiet, staged homes freaked me out which was kind of dumb since I was a realtor and spent an ungodly amount of time in tomb-silent houses, but they always left me feeling a little unsettled.

  I darted to the massive, bronze front door, my heels clicking off the travertine stones. The front door was windowless, but there were slender windows on either side, allowing me to watch without being seen.

  Headlights appeared in the driveway at exactly seven o’clock on the dot, piercing the inky blackness that clung to the tall elms lining the road that led to the house.

  Immediately, I knew something was off.

  The headlights were way too high to belong to the black town car Nigel always drove.

  Um.

  My stomach dropped all the way to my pointed heels. I clutched my cellphone in my hand as a truck pulled up to the house. A truck? Was it the owner of the home? It couldn’t be someone who’d stumbled upon the listing because it hadn’t even been publicly listed yet. Was it some maintenance person? Or a serial killer?

  I rolled my eyes.

  Going from maintenance person to a serial killer was a bit excessive.

  It could be the buyer, but if that was the case Nigel would be with him. My typical clients never showed without a human assistant. I wasn’t sure why, but it reminded me of how male doctors were never in the room with ladies without a female nurse present.

  Nigel could be in the truck though.

  The outdoor lighting reflected off the side of the truck. It was a newer one, definitely a black or dark blue. The headlights turned off and then the driver’s door opened. A tall, lean form slipped out. There wasn’t enough light to see anything of the man, but it was definitely a man—a very tall man, and there didn’t appear to be anyone else with him.

  “Who are you?” I whispered as he closed the door. I glanced down at my phone. 7:01 p.m. Nigel was never late, but this was not Nigel.

  Okay, I needed to see who this man was and why he was here. And this wasn’t the first time someone like the owner or some other random person had appeared before a showing. I knew how to take care of this, and besides, I wasn’t stupid. I always kept my cellphone in my hand or on my person when showing homes, one button away from making an emergency call if necessary.

  People were crazy.

  Taking a deep breath, I skewed my face into a ‘do not mess with me’ expression, hardening my jaw and thinning out my lips. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do with my face since I was someone who looked younger than my thirty-three years, which normally I appreciated but when I needed to look intimidating and fierce? Not so much. It was my brown eyes, wide set and big that made me look about as dangerous as a newly born fawn, but I had a lot of practice perfecting the resting bitch face.

  Or, in other words, active bitch face.

  I straightened up, coming to my whopping full height of five foot three, and opened the door, prepared to handle this guy. Whatever I was about to say, whatever I was about to do faded away the moment the man stepped under the light and I saw him.

  I’ll never be the same.

  That thought was crazy and cheesy, and did I mention crazy? Yes. It was all those things, but it was true because this man …

  This was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

  He had to be well over six feet tall, which meant he towered over me, but it wasn’t just his height that was impressive. He had a head full of messy, wavy black hair that toppled over his forehead, brushing against equally dark, winged brows. He had a strong nose. Not large. Just … strong. Aristocratic. If that was a thing, and I thought it was a thing, or it was definitely a thing now. His cheekbones were broad and sweeping, and his jaw was hard and firm. He had a wide mouth. Full lips—lips I knew could be downright expressive even though he wasn’t smiling as he stared down at me with those …

  Wolf eyes.

  This man had wolf eyes.

  They were the palest blue, the color a striking contrast against his pupils. Pupils that were slightly thinner than a human’s, and almost vertical.

  I knew immediately what he was.

  Vampire.

  ~~~

  “Ms. Patterson?” the vampire said in a voice that was deep and cultured. A voice that immediately set a rush of heat through me even though frigid air was rolling into the house and I wasn’t dressed to be in such weather.

  Cold weather didn’t bother this vampire, though. He wore a simple black shirt and a pair of worn jeans. They didn’t feel heat and cold like we lowly humans did.

  He cocked his head to the side and dipped his chin. Shadows formed under his eyes and lips—lips that were so incredibly full. A shiver tiptoed over my skin. His nostrils flared as if he scented something in the air as he stood there. He … waited.

  For what, I had no idea.

  “Are you going to let me in?” he asked, those pale eyes warming as I stared back at him, a bit dumbly. “Unless I’m at the wrong house and you’re not
Ms. Amanda Patterson, realtor extraordinaire?”

  I snapped out of it. Thankfully. “Darian St. Xavier?”

  His head straightened as one side of his lips curled up. “In the flesh.”

  Holy Christ on a church bell, it was him. My client. He was here and … I glanced over his shoulder. Yep. No Nigel.

  “You seem surprised to see me. Did you not expect me to want to see a home I was about to purchase?”

  That was a valid question. “Of course. This was just unexpected. I thought Nigel would be here.”

  “Again, did you not expect me to see a home I was about to purchase with my own eyes?”

  My fingers tightened around my phone. “Well, most of—”

  “My kind?” he interrupted.

  My eyes narrowed. “Most of my clients usually do not view the home with me. They trust their assistants.”

  “I am not like most.”

  “That I already know.”

  That half grin spread. “And what does that imply, Ms. Patterson?”

  It was only then did I realize what I’d said. I sucked in a sharp breath. “It—uh, does not imply anything.”

  “Is that so?” he murmured, and a moment passed. “Am I allowed to view the house, Ms. Patterson?”

  Shit.

  I was still blocking the door.

  Feeling off kilter, I nodded and stepped aside. Darian brushed by me, and I inhaled deeply, instantly regretting it. He smelled amazing. Like some kind of lush, foreign spice, and … and man.

  Man?

  My eyes widened as I closed the door behind him. How in the hell did someone smell like a man? I turned to my client. The plain black shirt stretched over his shoulders. Now I knew how someone smelled like a man.

  What in the world was wrong with me?

  Okay, I knew the answer. I hadn’t been around a man—er, vampire, whatever—that I found attractive in lord knows how long. Not even before the loveless and virtually sexless marriage ended, leaving me wondering if I just wasn’t cut out for intimacy and relationships, leaving me doubting why I’d gotten married and why I’d stayed with my ex-husband as long as I had.

  And I found Darian to be hot. Having such a visceral reaction left me reeling, but I needed to pull it together. Show Darian this house, sell it to him, and close the deal. Then go home, put on my ratty sweatpants and old sweater, and eat all the Cheetos I had in the house.

  It sounded like a plan.

  Drawing in a shallow breath, I took like half a second to close my eyes and bitch slap myself. When I opened my eyes, Darian had turned to me, as silent as a ghost, and was staring at me. Our gazes collided and held. In my chest, my heart started throwing itself against my ribs.

  “Do I make you nervous, Ms. Patterson?”

  There was no suppressing the shiver that rolled its way down my spine. “No,” I quickly answered. “Of course not.”

  Darian arched a brow like he knew better, and he sort of did, because he was partly correct in his assumption. What human wouldn’t be nervous to be alone with a vampire in the middle of nowhere? I grew up with them, as did my parents and my grandparents, and so on, so forth. They weren’t some mystical creature that lived in the shadows and imagination of man.

  They were mystical creatures that could, in fact, go out in daylight, but not for long periods of time and definitely not in the morning or afternoon. They were simply a different, and often considered superior, species that had a sun sensitivity, beautiful DNA, fangs, and … a hankering for a glass of blood with their dinner instead of a glass of wine. Yes, vampires were super strong, and unbelievably so. Darian could snap my neck in a heartbeat, before I even knew what he was doing. They were also sort of immortal, having an aging process that allowed them to live hundreds and hundreds of years. The oldest living vampire just turned over fifteen hundred years old, and some of them could be dangerous.

  There were attacks.

  Vampires mad with bloodlust, having gone too long without feeding from a Vessel or visiting one of the numerous blood banks. And there were vampires who didn’t want their … food handed to them. Vampires who preferred the hunt.

  But I wasn’t frightened of them.

  I was more scared of some crazy dude who felt he hadn’t been told he was manly enough, getting pissed off at the world, and shooting up a mall than I was of a vampire. Humans were often far deadlier.

  My nervousness really had little to do with him being a vampire. Whatever. My pharmacist was a vampire, as was my divorce attorney.

  It mostly had to do with the fact I was attracted to him, and I didn’t know what to do with that, because I truly could not remember a time when I’d seen a man and just wanted him.

  And that was wholly inappropriate for a multitude of reasons. First off, he was a client. Secondly, he was a stranger whose only correspondence consisted of my name and telling me a house didn’t suit his needs. I had never in my life had a one-night stand or had sex with someone I didn’t know. Thirdly and finally, vampires were rarely into humans. I couldn’t blame them. The males and females of their species were beautiful, and compared to them, humans were kind of like sloppy seconds.

  A knowing look crept into his stunning features, and he stepped in, his large and powerful body suddenly crowding mine. His gaze drifted over me, from the tips of my toes all the way to the top of my head. His stare felt like a caress. My nipples hardened, and at once, I was grateful that my bra had some padding in it.

  “Ms. Patterson …”

  Warmth curled low in my belly. “What?” I demanded. Vampires couldn’t read minds.

  His chin lowered, and suddenly he was in my space, breathing the same air as me. Every muscle in my body tensed, even ones I didn’t know I had, and it was like every cell of my being became aware of him.

  Darian’s breath was minty as it coasted over my lips. “Are you going to show me the house, Amanda? Or are you going to continue staring at my mouth?”

  My entire body jolted at the sound of my name coming out of him. I could feel how wide my eyes got. A different kind of warmth splashed across my face. “I’m not staring at your mouth.”

  “You’re not?” That half grin was there again, tipping up one side of his lips.

  Shit.

  I was.

  Dragging my gaze to his eyes, I realized that wasn’t any better. I quickly looked away. “I’m ready to show you the house.”

  “Good.” He stepped aside, and I skirted past him. “Oh, and Amanda?”

  Whoa.

  He said my name like it was wrapped in the most decadent chocolate. Like I had no control over my body, I turned back to him.

  “You can stare at my mouth all you like,” he demurred. “I do not mind at all.”

  ~~~

  “This is the forth bedroom, the largest in comparison to the master bedroom,” I said as I opened the door. Somehow, I’d managed to pull myself together and start showing him the home. “All you would need to do is outfit the windows to block out as much light as you’d like.” I paused as he stood beside me. Warmth simmered in my veins. “It’s obviously enough room for family or guests.”

  “I do not have a family that will be moving with me,” Darian replied as he checked out the empty room. Only one of the extra bedrooms was staged. “But these will do.”

  I glanced at him. That was surprising.

  “You look shocked,” he commented, stepping out of the room.

  “Most of my clients have large families.” And that was true. Vampires lived a long time. They collected a lot of children, wives, husbands, and lovers. “And this is a rather large home.

  “It is.” He followed me back down the wide hall.

  I waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn’t, I stalked forward. “At the end of the hall is the master bedroom.” I pushed open the double doors and stepped into the spacious bedroom staged with a large four-poster bed. “Nigel explained that you may want to use this or the space in the basement, but I think with the right window
treatments, you’ll find that this will make an amazing room to—”

  “To sleep in or to fuck in?”

  Gasping, I turned to him. Yet again, he’d gotten close to me without me hearing him. I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t find a single thing to say.

  “I guess the room would be good for both,” he said, those pale eyes latching on to mine. “That bed would be good for it, especially the frame.”

  “The frame?”

  “Yes. Can you not see it?” His gaze left mine, traveling to the bed. I followed his stare. “On your knees, holding on to the wood while you’re taken from behind?”

  The heat from earlier that had been simmering returned like a full furnace, blasting my entire body. Shock quickly followed. Vampires could be notoriously blunt, often crude. I guess that came with being alive for so long. One tended to get tired of certain social manners, but Jesus, had he really just said that? “I’m not quite sure I can picture that.”

  “Do you need help visualizing it?” There was an almost mischievous tilt to his lips now.

  “No,” I snapped, maybe too quickly. Okay. Definitely too quickly, because I didn’t need any help visualizing it.

  I was totally being bombarded with images of exactly what he’d said.

  Me on my knees, skirt hiked up to my waist, blouse open and bra unhooked. A flush of arousal swept through me, so potent my legs felt weak. There was no nameless, faceless man behind me, clutching my hips with fingers that dug into my skin. I saw Darian behind me, pounding into me, taking me like I’d never felt before as he bared his fangs and—

  I sucked in a sharp breath. Oh my God, what was I thinking?

  “Hmm,” he murmured. “Shame.”

  Turning from the bed, I cleared my throat. “Are you ready to see the basement—”

  “I’ll take the house.”

  “What?” I whipped back around, studiously avoiding the bed. I was hearing things. “Come again?”

  He was still staring at the bed, as if there were a couple entwined there, skin pressed against skin. Hands all over exposed flesh.