Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More

by Mandy M. Roth

  Jackson glanced at me. “Haven?”

  “It’s a vamp only club, with a live buffet,” I said, my tone flat. Letting a vampire feed from your neck for money was considered one step above prostitution. And while I didn’t personally have a problem with vamps feeding from humans as long as there was consent, most women who worked at those places were objectified and sneered at by society. It wasn’t a pretty scene.

  “Thanks,” Jackson said while removing the brunette’s hand from his arm, “but I already have plans.”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “Plans? But I thought…” The vampire’s voice trailed off when Jackson moved to my side.

  “Ready to go?” he asked me.

  I nodded, stood, and turned my attention to Allcot. Pandora was standing beside him, a bemused smile on her face as she watched us. “Anything else?” I asked.

  Allcot crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Jackson. “That’s all.”

  Jackson mimed tipping his hat at Allcot, then once again put his hand on the small of my back and guided me out of the office.

  Chapter 2

  “You could’ve gone with her,” I said once we were in the cab, headed toward the Cryrique building.

  Jackson shook his head. “No, I couldn’t. I’m already on a date.”

  I let out a small huff of laughter. “That’s very gentlemanly of you, but we both know this isn’t a date. Meeting with you tonight is just part of my job.”

  “Job, huh?” He sat back, stretching his arm across the length of the seat. “We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”

  “What does that mean?”

  But instead of answering me, he leaned forward, speaking to the taxi driver. “Can you make a left at the next light?”

  “Sure, man,” the driver said, glancing at us in the rearview mirror. “Change of destination?”

  “Yes. There’s a club in Bayou Saint John called Lights Out. You know it?”

  “Vamp joint, right?” he said without hesitation.

  “Not exactly. More like a supernatural place.” Jackson turned to me. “Is that all right? I assume since you work for Allcot, you’re comfortable in that kind of environment.”

  “Sure,” I said, but my pulse had quickened. Lights Out was an exclusive club that catered to the most powerful. You had to have serious connections to get past their velvet ropes. I’d only heard stories about the place, but they always included the rich and famous along with the best entertainment acts to come through New Orleans.

  “Good. Just because you’re being paid to babysit me doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.” He sat back again, this time moving a tiny bit closer to me.

  I was more excited than I cared to admit. My employment at Cryrique had afforded me some interesting experiences, like meeting Jackson Barré, but I had never been on a VIP list. Trying to keep the dopey grin off my face, I allowed myself a friendly smile and said, “Sounds fun.”

  He let out a low chuckle, and relaxed beside me, taking in the sights of New Orleans until the cabbie pulled to a stop in front of a home that appeared to be a normal shotgun camelback. It was a two story shotgun home like so many others in the city. The difference was, it sat on the edge of the Bayou Saint John, and the two lots to either side had been cleared and fenced, giving it an air of privacy.

  Jackson paid the driver, then slid out and was already opening my door before I’d even released my seatbelt. His cool hand wrapped around mine, helping me from the car. And much to my surprise, as we moved toward the front door of Lights Out, he didn’t let go.

  I glanced down at our entwined fingers, and although I barely knew him, his touch felt right. Comfortable. As if I’d known him forever and not a few short hours.

  “Ready?” he asked with a glint in his eye.

  “No,” I said with a laugh. “But I can’t wait to see what all the fuss is about.”

  He chuckled to himself as he knocked.

  A few moments passed, then a tall, dark-skinned man in a white linen suit appeared and waved us in. “Good evening, Mr. Barré. Chloe will show you to your table.”

  A woman with bronze-toned skin flashed us a brilliant smile. “Right this way.”

  We followed her through the foyer and into the former living room. The previously split home had been converted into one large, open space, with wood beam ceilings and gleaming pinewood floors. Tables with velvet seating lined the walls, while smaller round tables took up most of the interior. At the back of the house was a small stage with a pianist and a smoky-voiced woman singing about love under the harvest moon.

  “This is gorgeous,” I said. “And a little surprising.”

  Jackson stared down at me with curiosity. “How so?”

  I shrugged. “I always imagined this place to be flashier, more opulent. It’s more… comfortable than I thought it would be.”

  He chuckled again. “Nothing is ever as good as the buildup I guess.”

  Something about his tone made me look at him, really look at him. His tall, broad frame, those piercing blue eyes, his handsome face that was somehow more appealing because of the jagged scar, as if he’d known his share of hardships despite a blessed life… or death as a vampire. And in that moment, I had the insane thought that Jackson Barré might just be better than anything I could imagine.

  Our eyes met and held in an intense exchange. My body started to tingle with the desire to step into him, to feel what it would be like to be pressed against him. But then my brain kicked in. What the hell was I thinking?

  I’d literally just met the man. And he was a rich vampire in business with my boss. Blinking, I took a step away from him just for my own self-preservation.

  “Come on,” he said with a tilt of his head. “Let’s get you a drink.”

  I didn’t want a drink. Not really. And even though I’d been excited to learn all the secrets of the exclusive club, suddenly all I wanted was to spend some quiet time getting to know the charming man beside me. Only the idea of suggesting we leave for someplace more private seemed highly inappropriate considering the circumstances.

  We followed Chloe to a quiet table in the back. Once we were seated, she flagged down a server for us, and we ordered more wine. “Now,” he said, turning to me. “Tell me more about Blake Douvant.”

  “Me? I’m just a small town girl from the panhandle, trying to build a life for myself here.” I glanced away, feeling shy as I said, “I think your history is likely to be far more interesting.”

  His cool hand slipped over mine. “You’re a lot more than just a small town girl.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You just met me. How do you know what I am?”

  “Jackson!” A round man blustered as he stumbled forward, reeking of whiskey and cigar smoke. An overhead light shone down, bouncing off his bald head. “What brings you to our fine city?”

  Jackson stood and gripped the man’s arm, steadying him. “Hello, Nathanial. When did you get back in town? Last I heard you were working with the Arcane on an international witch’s coalition.”

  My eyes widened. Nathanial Jorges was the head of the Arcane’s International Security division. He worked with the most talented witches in the world to keep ours and other nations safe from rogue supernaturals.

  “I got back last night.” The man sat in the chair next to me, his gaze sweeping over my body in a slow perusal. “Human?”

  My skin started to crawl. The look in his eyes was full of lust, but his tone held an undeniable note of judgement.

  “Ms. Douvant is an employee of Cryrique and my date for the evening,” Jackson said, draping his arm over the back of my chair.

  “Cryrique.” Jorges nodded, his attention focused over Jackson’s shoulder. He swept his gaze through the club as if searching for something. After a moment, he pursed his lips together and said, “Yes, I understand you’re partnering with them on your new project.”

  “We’re considering it. I’m in town for negotiations.” Jackson took a sip
of his wine and averted his gaze as if the conversation was boring him.

  “You know nothing would make me happier. It would be nice to have someone on the inside who could pass us inform—” Jorges stopped mid-sentence and glanced at me, his face turning red. “I mean, someone to help smooth negotiations. It’s no secret their work with vampire science is most interesting to the Arcane.”

  “I find it incredible you don’t already have a spy or two,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone, then stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll use the ladies’ room.”

  Jackson started to rise, but I waved him back down and took off toward the back of the house. Jorges was nothing more than a politicking blowhard. And a sleaze to boot. That much was obvious just in the way he’d looked at me like I was a prize to be unwrapped. If he was representative of the kind of people who spent time at Lights Out, I hadn’t been missing anything other than a cool building.

  The ladies’ room was something out of a nineteen fifties movie, with a plush lounge area followed by the usual facilities. Once I’d finished my business, I walked back into the lounge and stopped when I spotted a disheveled petite woman sitting on one of the couches. Her stockings had a hole in her right knee, and there were scratches on her bare arm. She had her head down and was frantically tapping out a message on her phone.

  I walked up to her. “Are you all right?”

  Her head snapped up, defiance in her determined gaze. “Do I look all right?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not really. What can I do to help?”

  “Sorry,” she said, softening her tone. “Nothing. I’ll be fine just as soon as I get ahold of my ride.”

  I sucked in a breath. “If you need a ride, I can—”

  “What I need is for that asshole out there to go fuck himself.”

  “Uh, okay. I’ve been there a time or two. Are you sure I can’t help you get out of here? Or maybe distract the asshole so you don’t have to deal with him?”

  She let out a huff of laughter. “That would be awesome, but I can’t ask you to do that. Listen, thanks. I know I snapped at you, but it’s only because everything hurts like a bitch.” The pixie-like woman stood, grimacing as she put weight on her left leg. “All I need is a healing bar and maybe an energy drink. Then once my magic comes back, I’ll be fine.”

  Witch. Whoever had done this to her had not only beat her up, but had neutralized her magic, too. It was just about the worst thing someone could do to a witch. I dug around in my purse and produced a chocolate bar with numbing abilities that had yet to hit the market. Handing it to her, I said, “This should do until you can find a real healer. Do they offer Mocha in Motion here? I could go get you one.”

  “No, they don’t.” She stared at the bar for a moment, then she glanced up at me with renewed interest. “Where did you get this?”

  “I just happen to work at a place that deals with supernatural holistic products. They’re everywhere in the office.”

  She turned the bar over, scanned the fine print, and looked up at me. “It doesn’t say who made this.”

  I shrugged. “It’s still being market tested.”

  “Cryrique, right?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity. “What do you do there?”

  Her statement had me taking a step back. There was nothing on the package to indicate who the manufacturer might be. And since it hadn’t launched, the product was still proprietary. If she spread the news, I could possibly lose my job. Dammit. What had I been thinking offering it to her? Of course, the answer was obvious. I’d wanted to help someone in need. “How did you know that?”

  She gave me a tired smile. “I’ve worked for Allcot before. This has his signature all over it. Don’t worry. I’m not going to sell you out or anything. I was just curious.”

  She’d worked for Allcot? He only had one witch on the payroll as far as I knew. “What’s your name?” I asked, suspicion working its way into my tone.

  Her lips twitched as if she were trying to hide a smile. “Phoebe. We sort of have a love-hate relationship. Mostly hate, but we’ve settled into a workable situation… for now.”

  Phoebe Kilsen. Of course. Now that she said her name, I recognized her. She worked for the Arcane and was a well-known vampire hunter, going after the ones who attacked humans. She was one of the good guys. I held out my hand. “I’m Blake, and if there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.”

  Her small hand wrapped around mine. “It’s good to meet you. Right now all I want is this healing bar, assuming it’s not going to poison me.”

  “Not likely. I’ve tested a few of them, and so far they’ve been great at erasing headaches and soothing lower back pain.”

  “Well, that’s something.” She unwrapped the bar and eyed it suspiciously. Then with a shrug that clearly said ‘what the hell,’ she bit off a chunk. Her eyes rolled and she let out a relieved sigh. “Damn, that’s good.”

  “Right? They’re so good there’s a worry they’ll become addictive.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I clamped my hand over my lips. Dammit! What was wrong with me tonight?

  She let out a laugh and shook her head. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. I’d be willing to bet Allcot is pushing it precisely because of its addictive qualities. But don’t worry. I won’t go sharing what you told me. For your sake, if not Allcot’s.”

  “Thanks.” I frowned. Was that true? Probably. No one ever said my boss was especially altruistic. He was the head of the Cryrique, the most powerful vampire corporation in the south, if not the entire country. Not that it mattered. I couldn’t afford to have a crisis of conscience. Not if I wanted to continue my search for Cameron.

  “You’re welcome.” She finished the last of the chocolate and handed me back the wrapper. “Just so you know I won’t pass on the evidence.”

  I took it and stuffed it back in my bag. Her phone dinged and she cursed. “No rest for the wicked! Time’s up. Gotta run.” But instead of heading toward the door, she took off toward a small window, moving as if she’d never been hurt.

  “Are you sure you’re going to fit through there?” I asked. She was petite, but the opening looked more like an air vent.

  “Yep. This isn’t my first rodeo in this club.” She winked, pulled a tiny screw driver from her pocket, and went to work on the hardware.

  At least she wasn’t going back out into the club where her attacker could get to her again. “Want me to watch the door?”

  “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  “I’m on it, and good luck,” I said with a wave, then slipped out.

  The moment I entered the hallway, Jackson grabbed my arm. “Come with me.”

  “But—”

  “It’s not safe,” he said, moving swiftly.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at the restroom. Thankfully no one seemed to be headed that direction. In fact, everyone was crowding near the entry, apparently trying to leave.

  “Someone cast a time bomb spell. Jorges sensed it. We have to leave right now before this place goes up in flames.”

  My heart started to race, and the woman I’d met in the bathroom flashed through my mind. Had she gotten out? She must’ve, right? What if the window wouldn’t open or had been magically sealed for security reasons like the Cryrique building? I stopped in my tracks, digging my heels in. “Jackson, wait. We have to check the restroom. There was a woman in there. I have to make sure she got out.”

  “We can’t,” he said, tightening his hold as he moved swiftly toward a door that read Employee’s only. He must’ve been banking on another exit.

  “Jackson! She was hurt. I can’t leave without checking on her.”

  “Shit,’ he muttered. Then before I could say another word, he scooped me up, pivoted, and moved so fast my vision blurred. In the next moment, we were standing in the middle of the women’s restroom lounge.

  “Get out!” Jorges said with a snarl. He held Phoebe by the neck w
ith one hand while she clawed at his fingers. Her eyes were nearly popping out of her head while she made ugly choking noises.

  “Phoebe! Let her go,” I cried in a state of utter stupidity. I was a human and they were both witches. If Phoebe couldn’t hold him off, what did I think I could do?

  Jorges spun, his beady eyes boring into me as he let out a growl. “You know this bitch?”

  “I…”

  Phoebe, who was still being held off the floor, her feet kicking out, met my gaze and mouthed no.

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t. I met her five minutes ago while in this bathroom. I offered her a… a piece of gum, she declined.”

  Jackson placed me on my feet, and stepped in front of me, obscuring my view. “What’s going on here, Jorges?”

  “She set the time bomb. I’m not letting her leave until she diffuses it. I’m not losing my club because of this little piece of trash.”

  “Your club?” I asked, surprised as if that was the most important thing to be focused on at the moment.

  “Blake, not now,” Jackson muttered over his shoulder.

  “Right. Sorry,” I said, but then whispered in his ear, “I don’t believe him. Her magic has been neutralized. If Jorges just sensed it before I left the restroom, there’s no way it was her.”

  He didn’t acknowledge my latter statement, but he did stiffen. “Jorges, I think it’s best if we all get out of here. How about we take this up with the Arcane?”

  The pudgy man shot out his hand, releasing a blinding white light.

  “Fuck,” Jackson said as he tackled me to the floor. The light flew over us and hit the far wall with a deafening boom. Plaster tumbled to the floor in a cloud of dust. “Are you okay?” he said into my ear.

  “I think so.” The wind had been knocked out of me, but I hadn’t been blasted apart by the crazy man’s magic.

  Jackson got to his feet, hauling me with him. Power radiated from him as he once again stepped in front of me. “Christ, Jorges. Why the hell did you do that?”