It had been the ultimate test for any prospective boyfriend when they were all teens: Meet the family and still come back for more.
Most of them didn’t. Wusses.
All the lights were blazing in Sue’s house. Amy stopped for a moment to gear up for battle. “This is going to be unpleasant for a little while, but just stick close to me. I won’t let them hurt you,” she promised.
William shot her a look filled with amusement, but then he started to sneeze. And scratch. And turn so blotchy that she could see the rash pop up on his face even in the pale glow of the streetlights.
“Don’t scratch. You’ll just make it worse.”
He nodded and stopped, although she could tell he was rapidly becoming miserably uncomfortable. “There’s a lot of magic being cast in that house,” he said hoarsely.
“Oh, boy. Here we go.” Squeezing his hand for luck or reassurance—she wasn’t sure which—Amy walked into her aunt’s house.
She’d barely gotten the door open when the excited chatter inside died away, and Granny’s voice rang out. “Bring that hottie over here so I can get a good look at him, Amaryllis. I forgot my glasses at home.”
“It’s Amy,” Amy groaned.
William chuckled, but it didn’t last long, because he went straight into a sneezing fit.
They walked into the family room, and the usual suspects were there. Granny, Aunt Sue, and Rose, all lined up on the couch, staring at them with varying levels of guilt-inducing reproach (Rose), fierce indignation (Sue), and salacious appreciation (Granny, who’d always liked the handsome ones).
“I’m sorry, okay? Let me just apologize in advance,” Amy said. “I shouldn’t have made you worry, I shouldn’t have gone off with a strange vampire, I shouldn’t have fought werewolf mafia in Central Park. It has just been one of those days.”
“I don’t consider myself to be strange,” William murmured, and Granny’s near-sighted eyes narrowed.
“Amy,” she demanded. “Introduce your friend.”
“Granny, Aunt Sue, this is William Pemberley. William, this is Sue Cardinal and my great-aunt, who only goes by Granny, and whose real first name is lost in the mists of time.”
“Watch it, honey,” Granny advised. She stood up to peer up at William, but she had to peer way up, because she was shorter even than Amy, and she had terrible eyesight. Granny was ninety something and didn’t look a day over two hundred. She was currently wearing yellow stretch pants, a black turtleneck, and yellow and black socks. She looked like a demented bumblebee.
William bowed low and kissed her hand. “Mrs. Cardinal, it is my very great pleasure to meet--"
Sneeze.
“—you.”
“Allergic to magic, huh?” Granny laughed, which oddly enough didn’t sound anything like her usual cackle. She flashed her enormous dentures at William, who made a choking sound.
For a second, Amy was worried the allergies were suffocating him, but then she realized he was trying desperately not to laugh. She poked him in the side with her elbow.
“Amy,” Sue said, clearly caught in an internal debate over whether to go with “Mind your manners” or “Let’s hurt the evil vampire who abducted my niece.”
“Don’t be rude to our guest.”
Huh. Apparently manners trumped danger to family members every time.
“Pemberley is clearly a fake name,” Rose pointed out, scowling at both of them. “You whammied me, didn’t you? Earlier, at Amy’s. It took me a few hours, but then it all came back to you. You’re lucky Alejandro isn’t here, or he’d have shot you on sight.”
Ouch. Amy hadn’t even thought about that, but Rose was right. Alejandro and vampires did not get along. There was a lot of very bad history there.
“Not that I need him to protect my cousin from you,” Rose continued, reaching for a delicate glass vial that contained a sparkly blue liquid. “Step away from Amy this instant, or you’ll be very, very sorry.”
Sneeze. “Perhaps we got off to a bad start,” William said, his rich, deep voice reduced to a scratchy whisper. “I will be glad to leave your home until Amy can explain--"
“No,” Amy said. “We need to fix this now. Okay, everyone, listen up. A wizard cursed William to be allergic to magic--"
“He probably deserved it,” Aunt Sue said primly, folding her arms across her chest. “I remember the coffee shop, Amy.”
“I did deserve it,” William confessed. “I asked him to cast a spell that would allow me to walk in the daylight. When he refused, I threatened his family.”
A sudden and profound silence greeted this statement, and Amy figured it was all over. Family was everything to the Cardinal witches.
Granny hopped up on the couch so she could stare straight into William’s eyes, and she waved one hand with a dramatic flourish. “TRUTH,” she said, in a deep, dark voice that in no way resembled her own.
“I would never harm a woman or child and have never done so,” William replied. “I even apologized to him, later, for the false threat, but it was too late. I was young and stupid and desperate to see the sunshine one more time.”
“Okey dokey,” Granny said, jumping down off the couch and then reaching up to pat William’s cheek. “We’re good.”
William started frantically scratching his arms with both hands and burst into a wild sneezing fit.
“What do you mean we’re good?” Amy was ready to drag her vampire out of there. “It’s pretty obvious that he’s not good.”
“Oh, that’s just residual from Mom’s truth spell,” Sue said, heading for the kitchen. “Nothing to worry about.”
Amy clutched her head while William collapsed on the couch, sneezing and scratching. “Can you fix him?”
Granny looked surprised. “Of course not. You’re going to have to find the wizard’s grimoire for that. I can give him a little relief for now, though.”
She closed her eyes and muttered something under her breath, and William gradually stopped sneezing and scratching. The blotchiness faded, too.
“I am profoundly grateful,” he told Granny, who grinned at him.
“I know. I’m pretty awesome,” she said, with her usual complete lack of humility.
“So, if I find this grimoire, you can cure me?” William took a cautious breath, didn’t sneeze, and stood up.
“You can’t find the grimoire,” Sue said, walking back into the room with four glasses on a tray. “Amy has to go with you to find it.”
She handed William the first glass. He swirled the amber liquid in the glass and looked a question at Amy. “Potion?”
“Tequila,” Amy said, sighing. “The curse of womankind. I can’t just drop everything and go running around the world, looking for a grimoire.”
Granny smacked her on the arm, hard. “Of course you can, you dolt. World travel has been your dream since you were a tiny girl. Now you get to travel and help the hot vampire. It’s a win/win.”
“Totally hot vampire,” William added helpfully.
“Shut up while you’re ahead,” Rose advised him.
“If it helps, I will give your family the million dollars,” William said.
“Enough with the million dollars. Nobody wants your million dollars,” Amy shouted.
“Down the hatch,” Granny crowed. “Also, I wouldn’t mind a million dollars. I could go on one of those dating sites. Match A Witch dot com.”
With that, Amy slugged her shot of tequila. Nobody needed to think about Granny on a dating site.
William raised his glass in silent salute to her family, then tossed it back, watching Amy with those glowing eyes the entire time. “Will you help me? I know I have no right to ask.”
She tilted her head and thought about it for a long minute. “Do you promise me werewolf fights, penthouse suites, carriage rides and wonderful food?”
“All of that,” he said, that slow, sexy smile spreading across his gorgeous face again.
Amy reached out and took his hands. “I might
have a few months to spare. What if--"
But she didn’t quite finish her sentence, because he pulled her into his arms and started to kiss her, right there in Aunt Sue’s living room, and the whirlwind of sound and light swallowed them whole. By the time she opened her eyes, still dazed from his kiss, William was staring over her shoulder at something behind her.
She whirled around and then backed up, right into the hard muscles of her vampire’s chest. “William.”
“Yes, Amaryllis Minerva?”
“We’re in a tent.”
She could feel the laughter rumbling in his chest against her back. “Yes, I noticed that.”
“Why is there a camel wearing a gold crown in our tent?”
“Apparently, the camel had a very good time.”
“Oh, boy.”
The End
For more magic, mayhem, and romance with the Cardinal Witches, see Rose’s story in Alejandro’s Sorceress.
About Alyssa Day
Alyssa Day is the New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of the Warriors of Poseidon and Cardinal Witches paranormal romance series and the Tiger’s Eye Mysteries, a paranormal mystery series. Her many awards include Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award for outstanding romance fiction (as Alesia Holliday) and the RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Paranormal Romance novel of 2012.
www.alyssaday.com
Unraveled by Blood by Laurie London
Unraveled by Blood by Laurie London
A Sweetblood World Novella
Guardian Mateo Carrera hasn’t been home in years—not since he almost killed the woman he loved when his dark nature couldn’t resist her sweet blood. But when he uncovers a deadly plot against her, he’ll risk everything to save her…even if it means losing himself.
Chapter 1
He didn’t want to kill them.
The youthlings, that is.
However, he’d gladly drive a silver blade through one or both of the Darkblood bastards who were with them.
Mateo Carrera sprinted through the French Quarter on foot, having ditched his car in an alley a few miles away, and emerged onto Bourbon Street. One glance at the indigo sky told him that dawn wasn’t far off. He didn’t have much time.
At least there weren’t a lot of people still out partying at this hour. Made what he had to do that much easier. Human witnesses just complicated things further.
Following the scent trail, he leapt over a drunk human passed out on the sidewalk and slipped into the shadows again, where he was able to mesh with the darkness and move faster.
The odor of vomit, piss, beer and other fluids wafted up from the pavement, and he grimaced. Like most vampires, Mateo had a highly developed sense of smell, but in this humidity, even a human would choke on it. He should be used to it by now—he’d been in New Orleans for several years and often worked this part of the city—but it got him every time. The soap trucks would soon be starting their early morning rounds. They’d spray suds on the streets and sidewalks to be hosed off by shopkeepers a short time later, washing away the sins of the night. For a few hours, at least.
Mateo rounded a corner and spotted the group of young vampires huddled together behind a wrought iron gate in an alley. None of them could be more than a few months past their Time of Change, when the blood cravings of born vampires began.
Great. They were right in front of Cafe Sur La Rue. His friend Andre was the owner of the trendy restaurant and a picky son of a bitch with an impeccable sense of style. Mateo would have to take extra care to make sure no property was damaged or his friend would have his head.
He counted seven youthlings. Four men and three women. But no Darkbloods.
Fuck.
Retreating back around the corner, he touched his earpiece and was instantly greeted by heavy breathing. Had he not just been with fellow Guardian Zeph Stewart a few minutes ago, he’d have thought the guy was getting busy with a lady friend or two. It wasn’t far out of the realm of possibility. Although a vampire’s need for sex was more powerful than a human’s, his friend’s sexual appetite was legendary even among their kind.
“Got a visual on the youthlings,” Mateo whispered, shielding his mouth with a cupped hand. “DBs aren’t with them.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Zeph said. “Cuz I’m about to waste ’em.”
“Need any backup?”
“Nah, I got this.”
And Mateo didn’t doubt it either. At over six and a half feet of pure muscle and covered in tats, Zeph looked as if he belonged to an outlaw biker gang rather than the elite group of warriors tasked with keeping peace and the vampire race a secret. He was one scary motherfucker. “Asshole. You get all the fun.”
“Enjoy yourself, Señor Carrera,” Zeph said with a laugh, referencing the fact that Mateo would soon be acting the part of a strict disciplinarian to some punkass youthlings.
“I’ll sure as hell try.”
They both knew that if Zeph wasn’t successful, which was highly unlikely, the Darkblood scum would soon crawl back to their dens and be ready to reappear at dusk. Then the whole clusterfuck would start over again when the DBs found some new youthlings to corrupt with the temptation of Sweet. Which, frankly, wasn’t hard to do. The siren’s call of the rare human blood type that was addictive to vampires was a powerful one. Particularly to a young vampire who was unable to control his or her new cravings. Mateo gritted his teeth, knowing all too well what could happen.
Pulling out one of his blades, he separated from the shadows and strode toward the group. The instant the youthlings saw him, they tried to scatter, but he was faster and more skilled at this shit than they were. Backing them into a corner, he blocked their only chance at escape.
He snapped his fingers and held out his hand, palm up. “Give me the Sweet.”
“What are you talking about?” one of the females said, red lips curled into a sneer. “We don’t have any.”
“Yeah,” a male said, echoing the same disdainful tone and taking a bold step forward. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mateo narrowed his eyes. “Cut the crap and just hand it over. Three, two, one…”
“Fuck you. We—”
In an instant, Mateo had him in a headlock, blade pressed against the guy’s throat. God, they were so predictable. You’d think some of them would be a little more imaginative. “You going to try telling me those Darkbloods in the cemetery with you were selling, what, lollipops?” No answer. “Give it to me or it’ll be your blood I’m spilling.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” One of the other males from the back of the pack, a tall, shifty-looking guy, stepped forward. “Do you know who my father is?”
“I don’t give two flying fucks who your father is.” Coming from a family of privilege himself, that excuse always rankled. “You’re using Sweet and the last time I checked, that’s a punishable offense.”
The male gave a haughty laugh. “You guys are all the same, you know that? Busting us for using when you’re just as addicted as we are. I know you’re not dumping this shit or taking it back to your little playhouse as evidence. As soon as we split, you’re going to be popping the little rubber corks and downing it as fast as we were about to.”
Mateo tightened his grip on the guy’s friend. Sure, corruption in the Guardian ranks was prevalent down here, but he played no part in it. He kept his head down and didn’t get involved in any of that shady shit.
Rules were there for a reason. It drove his partner crazy sometimes, but Mateo knew what happened when you pushed things past the breaking point. They broke.
He touched the tip of the blade to the youthling’s neck and drew blood. “I haven’t wasted a vampire in, oh, twelve hours now, so I’m itching for an excuse to charcoal you.”
“Give it to him, Jonas,” one of the females hissed to the rich guy. “It’s not worth it.”
“This is bullshit,” a shorter guy said, glancing warily at the lightening sky.
“Just give it to him. I’ve got to get home.”
“No,” Jonas argued with his friends. “He’s just going to—”
The events that followed happened quickly. Someone must’ve reached into Jonas’s pocket, because shouts, cursing and a scuffle ensued. Several glass vials of the addictive blood went flying and shattered on the cobblestones. The youthlings, unable to control themselves, pounced.
With the scent of Sweet thick in the air, Mateo’s grip loosened momentarily. The young man he’d been holding immediately slipped from his grasp and joined his friends lapping at the blood-spattered cobblestones.
It took a moment for Mateo to process the scent—he hadn’t smelled it in a long, long time—but not because he was addicted to Sweet. As a Guardian, part of his training had involved becoming desensitized to it, and now he routinely busted those who were selling it. But that scent—that particular scent—was familiar to him.
When Mateo made the connection, he staggered backward, feeling as if he’d been hit by a train. And then a white-hot rage surged through his veins, clouding all reason and logic.
On some level, he knew these kids had nothing to do with the collection of the blood or its source, they were just consumers, but he didn’t care. Fangs fully extended, he whipped out his silver blades, wielding them like extensions of his hands. Lunging, he intended to kill all of them. Spill their blood on the cobblestones. But before his weapons struck flesh, strong arms gripped him from behind, nearly wrenching him off his feet.
“What the fuck!” he yelled, struggling to free himself.
“Easy there, big guy.” It was Zeph.
“Get your hands off me, man, or I’ll rip your fucking head off.”
His partner ignored him, his grip vise-like around Mateo’s biceps. “Dude, they’re just mixed-up kids. They’re not the enemy.”
Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More Page 118
