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

  But Zeph didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand.

  The blood he smelled was hers.

  Chapter 2

  It still wasn’t right.

  Selena Tosca dipped a spoon into the stainless steel bowl of chocolate rum ganache, stirred it a few times to check the consistency, then took another taste. “Ugh.”

  Not only was it not thickening up like it was supposed to, but the aftertaste, though subtle, wasn’t good.

  What the heck is going on? The only thing she could think of was that it had something to do with the rum she’d used, because she’d made this particular recipe hundreds of times with the same brand of chocolate. The problem was, the client whose event she was catering wanted her to use a very specific rum for these truffles. One she’d never tried before.

  Selena opened the unlabeled bottle (from an old family distillery, she’d been told) and smelled the amber liquid again. On its own, the rum looked and tasted fine, but something about it was making the chocolate taste...off. This was her third attempt too.

  She dreaded the prospect of telling her best customer that she couldn’t accommodate this request. The woman was intense, to say the least. Not exactly the kind of person you wanted to have words with.

  Selena chewed on her lip and tried to think of another way to use the mixture. Ice cream topping? Drizzled over petits fours? She sighed. No, Ms. Karza was adamant. She wanted enough to fill an entire table with these specific chocolate rum truffles.

  Feeling a little lightheaded as she stepped away from the refrigerator, Selena leaned against the door frame to steady herself.

  “You okay, hon?” Paula, her part-time employee, looked at her from across the tiny commercial kitchen, a concerned expression on her face as she expertly flipped the contents of a sauté pan. A small barrette sparkled in the woman’s short pink hair.

  “I’m fine,” Selena said, straightening her spine. There was nothing she hated more than having people fuss and worry about her. At twenty-seven, having her father still doing it was bad enough, but then he’d probably never change. Her mother had died when she was little, so he’d always been very protective of her, but after the incident (as he liked to call it), he became even worse.

  Paula frowned. “You sure?”

  “Maybe I’ve sampled too much of this on an empty stomach.” She shook the bottle as if to prove her point.

  In truth, she’d only had a few sips of the rum to assess how much she’d need to use in the recipe. The real problem was her failure to get a good night’s sleep lately. How many nights was it this time? Two? Three? She’d be in bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. And when she did sleep, it was filled with nightmares she could never quite remember, leaving her tired and with a dull headache the next day.

  Paula folded her tattooed arms across her chest. “You were like this a few weeks ago too.”

  Selena tried to shrug it off. “It’s just insomnia. It comes and goes.”

  “Maybe you should go to a sleep lab.”

  Selena shivered, imagining being hooked up to machines and trying to sleep while people watched her. It reminded her too much of her hospital stay. “No, thank you.”

  “Why don’t you go in the back room and lie down,” Paula said. “I can handle things out here.”

  Selena considered the offer. Unfortunately, Paula wasn’t exactly the most reliable person. Often her boyfriend would call, saying he wanted to catch a band playing in Vancouver, and suddenly she’d be skipping out of work and taking the ferry to the mainland.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to do about the truffles. I need to bring the samples to Ms. Karza’s office tonight for their event next week.”

  Paula wasn’t having any of it. “You’ve been catering her events for how long now and she still doesn’t trust your judgment enough not to have to sample every little thing? What a total B.”

  “She’s a control freak, I guess.” But then you didn’t become the head of a research facility, if you weren’t paying attention to the details.

  The woman was intimidating as hell with her piercing blue eyes, those crisp white pantsuits she always wore, and the slow, guarded way in which she spoke. She was Tosca Catering’s main customer right now. The need for catering was very seasonal in Agate’s Cove. Selena would have had to close during the offseason otherwise. A few birthday cakes a month didn’t quite cut it.

  Selena made the ganache again using just a splash of the client’s rum mixed with her usual brand, and this time it worked. The mixture set up like it was supposed to and the aftertaste was much better. She just hoped it would be acceptable to the client. After samples of the rest of the food had been prepared, Paula told her to go into the back room and put up her feet.

  “You look like death.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  She continued to protest, but Paula insisted. “Go. I’ll decorate the truffles. I can even deliver these samples, if you like.”

  Selena yawned. “No, that’s okay. I can do it, but I do think I’ll lie down and close my eyes for a few minutes.”

  When she stretched out her legs on the threadbare couch, she was glad Paula had suggested this. It really did feel good.

  After what felt like a short time later, Selena opened her eyes to a darkened room. She yawned and leisurely stretched her arms over her head. Had she actually fallen asleep? When she grabbed her phone and checked the time, she nearly had kittens.

  Six thirty! No way! She needed to be at Ms. Karza’s office by seven, which was a good fifteen- to twenty-minute drive along the coast. Why hadn’t Paula woken her up? Oh my God, this was just like her, too. Sweet as can be, but so unreliable.

  Selena dashed from the back room, planning to throw the food samples together and hoping Paula had at least finished decorating the truffles like she’d said she would, when oomph, she ran headlong into someone who definitely wasn’t Paula.

  Strong hands cupped her elbows, setting her back on her feet, and a deep, masculine voice chuckled from above. “Hello, Selena.”

  That voice. It was…eerily familiar. She cranked her head up and nearly choked.

  Staring down at her was Mateo Carrera. The devastatingly handsome Mateo Carrera. With dreamy grey-blue eyes, a killer body, and raven, chin-length hair tucked behind one ear.

  The man she’d once loved. The man she’d dreamed of marrying.

  The man who broke her heart.

  Chapter 3

  It took all of Mateo’s willpower not to pull Selena into his arms and crush her body to his.

  She was okay. She was alive. And she was right here in front of him.

  He needed to get a grip, calm the fuck down, and focus on what he came here to do—ensure her safety through whatever means possible and kill the Darkblood scum responsible for harvesting her blood.

  He’d been on pins and needles since leaving New Orleans, pausing only to refuel on the way up to British Columbia. Given that he had a DayTran-equipped sports car to protect him from the energy-depleting sun, even daylight hadn’t stopped him.

  As soon as he’d recognized that the blood from the vial was hers, he’d done a frantic search of the Agency’s databases, only to come up empty-handed. The names of known sweetblood humans were kept highly confidential within the local field offices, so he wasn’t sure what he’d been hoping—or not hoping—to find. A call to the Horseshoe Bay region hadn’t turned up much information either. She hadn’t been listed as missing, nor was there an obituary. Which meant there was a chance she was still alive. But if so, that meant Darkbloods were either holding her captive somewhere and using her as a blood donor, or they were visiting her unsuspectingly.

  All this time, he’d assumed she was relatively safe on Vancouver Island where the vampire population was sparse. Because vampires couldn’t process sunlight into the energy needed to survive, they had to get it from human hosts by drinking their blood and absorbing it via physical touch. Human blood was more po
tent in regions with high UV levels, so vampires preferred living there. Cloudy, rainy climates like the Northwest, where the sun may not shine for months, weren’t nearly as popular.

  Clearly, he’d been wrong, and he couldn’t get up there fast enough.

  Now, here she was, standing before him, looking even more beautiful than he remembered.

  Inhaling deeply, he drew her sweet scent into his lungs, thankful for the desensitization training he’d gone through since that last, disastrous time they’d been together. He quickly shoved those thoughts out of his mind, not wanting to dwell on past mistakes. He had a job to do, nothing more, then he would leave.

  “Mateo?” Selena said, dark eyes wide. She frowned, as if his name sounded strange to say after all these years. “What are you doing here?”

  He took a step back, allowing his gaze to roam lazily over her from head to toe, searing her into his brain. He would need these vivid memories to refer to later. He’d fucked a lot of women these past few years in the hopes of getting Selena out of his head. And it had worked…for the most part. Although he hadn’t fallen in love with anyone else, he no longer thought about her every hour of every day.

  Her dark hair was shorter now, skimming just the tops of her shoulders and secured off her face by a rolled-up pink bandana. The faded concert T-shirt she wore was covered in flour and smudges of chocolate. Skinny jeans hugged that gorgeous ass of hers, and on her feet was a pair of not-quite-white sneakers. She still had that same casual, easy-going air about her that said not only was she comfortable with herself, but that you didn’t need to change either.

  He’d forgotten how it was to be around her. Having grown up in a family with rigid expectations that he’d always fallen short of, he’d never felt that pressure with Selena. It was one of the reasons he fell for her in the first place. He’d loved how he felt about himself when he was with her, that he was enough just the way he was.

  His gaze met hers, and that’s when he noticed the dark, faintly blue circles underneath her eyes. It was a classic sign of the longterm fatigue of a blood donor.

  Grinding his teeth together to keep his temper under control, he willed his fangs not to descend. Even though it wasn’t entirely unexpected, seeing her like this, an unwitting victim, made him want to destroy something. Punch his fist through something. Hunt down whoever was responsible and rip out their throats.

  Patience, he told himself. That will come. Just don’t scare her. Not again.

  The first order of business was to get her to safety. Everything else was secondary.

  He shrugged, trying to act casual. “I was hungry. Thought I’d stop by.”

  She blinked and looked around. “Where’s Paula, my employee?”

  “Gone,” he said, matching her flat tone.

  Fury flashed momentarily in her brown eyes. “I can see that.”

  Leaning back against the counter, he liked that he was having an effect on her, even if it was negative. He could handle anger. It was a thousand times better than indifference. “She said you were napping in the back and that she was going to deliver the food samples to your customer.”

  Selena raised a brow at him. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. Why?” He wasn’t lying. Not exactly.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. She clearly wasn’t buying his explanation. “She left you, a stranger, here with me asleep in the back room?”

  “I’m not a stranger.”

  “She doesn’t know that,” Selena snapped.

  “What can I say?” He spread his hands wide. “I look trustworthy, I guess.”

  The look on her face made him glad there wasn’t a frying pan within reach.

  When he’d arrived, the pink-haired girl had been bustling around the kitchen. Sensing Selena was somewhere nearby, he’d turned on the charm and learned Paula was putting the finishing touches on food Selena was going to be taking to a customer. It was easy enough to implant a mind suggestion that she should deliver it instead.

  With a frustrated groan, Selena grabbed her cell phone. Hand on her hip, she tapped her foot as she made a call. Apparently no one answered, because she then began to violently stab out a text message. Brows furrowed, she stared at the screen, waiting for a response. “Dang it, Paula. Where are you?”

  “Driving?”

  Selena’s head shot up. “What?”

  “She could be a big believer in no texting and driving.” Without waiting for what would undoubtedly be a scathing reply, he added, “Don’t you trust her?”

  Selena sighed and rubbed her forehead. Tucking the phone into the back pocket of her jeans, she opened the refrigerator and peered inside. “Unfortunately, I don’t. Looks like she got everything, though, but I have no idea if she even knows how to get there.”

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Mateo said, “she did seem to know what she was doing. I helped her load the car.”

  Selena glanced at him over her shoulder and looked him up and down. “You haven’t changed, have you? Always managing to charm people, even when they should know better.”

  Her expression softened for a moment, as if she were remembering something pleasant, but just as quickly, her eyes turned brittle again.

  Even though he knew it was for the best that Selena despise him—hell, he hated himself for what he had done and would never forgive himself either—he couldn’t deny that it hurt.

  Spotting a small glass filled with toothpicks, he grabbed one and stuck it in his mouth. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

  She brushed a white smudge of flour on her T-shirt as if that were more interesting to look at than him. “What brings you here after, what, four years?”

  Four years, two months and eleven days to be exact.

  He cleared his throat and moved the toothpick to the other side of his mouth. Now for the real lie. “My parents are thinking about selling the family estate, so I thought I’d come back and check it out before it’s gone.”

  “And where’s home for you now?” Her tone was conversational, like she didn’t really give a shit but felt obliged to ask.

  “New Orleans.”

  “And you haven’t been back?”

  Not since the night I nearly killed you.

  His parents had pulled in all sorts of favors to have that horrible incident buried. Selena’s mind had been wiped. The minds of their human friends who’d witnessed what happened had been wiped. Suggested memories had been implanted with the EMTs and hospital staff. According to his father, who’d proceeded to beat the shit out of him later that night, it had been one huge fucking mess.

  But in the end, they were right. He’d just about killed the woman he loved. And nothing, not even love, was worth paying that price.

  He shook his head. “Just wanted to see how you were doing. That’s all.”

  Her nostrils flared as she pointed a finger at him. “You’re an asshole, you know that, Mateo?” She paused, her anger gaining momentum. “A cowardly, selfish asshole. I’ve moved on, in case you haven’t noticed. I have no interest—none—in hooking up with you again, if that’s what you really came here for.”

  Her words cut like a knife. “I didn’t,” he said coldly.

  Did she really think that was why he’d come here? A quick fuck for old time’s sake? He was an asshole, sure, but he’d never use her like that.

  He looked around the efficient but tiny kitchen, seeing her touch everywhere. Various pans, utensils and ingredients were stacked neatly on the counters and shelves. Selena had always been an amazing baker. Cookies, brownies, pies, cakes. You name it. He used to sit in her kitchen for hours and watch her concoct stuff.

  “Tosca Catering,” he said, noting the hand-lettered sign over the door. “Congratulations. Looks like you’re doing well for yourself.”

  Selena shrugged as if his compliment meant nothing to her.

  “You ever find your mom’s lemon cake recipe?” he asked.

  She drew in a sharp breath. “You…remember that?�
�

  “Of course. How could I forget?”

  Selena had told him how her mother used to bake lemon cake for her father—his all-time favorite—but after her mother died, her father couldn’t find the recipe, and he feared his wife had never written it down. Selena had been determined to make her father the same lemon cake, so when she was old enough, she tried recipe after recipe.

  “Although having tasted yours,” he said, “I can’t see how any other cake could come close to being as good.”

  She paused for a moment, chewing the inside of her lip. Then, without a word, she opened the refrigerator and soon set a plate down in front of him filled with several confections, including a thin slice of lemon cake.

  He glanced at her, both shocked at the kind gesture and yet, not really surprised. She’d always had this thing about feeding people. Said it fed her spirit. Guess that hadn’t changed.

  “Go on. Eat,” she said. “And then you’re going to leave.”

  And you’re coming with me.

  He wasted no time digging in. Although he’d fed from a human when he’d stopped for gas in Boise and sated his appetite, he would never in a million years pass up a dessert that Selena made.

  “So. Damn. Good,” he said through mouthfuls of cake. “Even better than I remembered.” It literally melted in his mouth. The perfect combination of tart and sweet. He was basically having a mouth orgasm right now.

  Selena didn’t look at him as she tidied up the kitchen, although he did catch the hint of a smile a few times.

  “How are your parents?” she asked. “I heard they moved out of the area.”

  He didn’t look up. “Don’t know. We don’t keep in contact. How about your father?”

  She studied him a moment before answering. “He’s fine.”

  “Tell him…I said hello.” He’d always liked her father, though he didn’t want to think about how the man felt about him now. After Mateo’s sudden departure, he had to be on the man’s shit list.

  He finished the lemon cake and wasted no time wolfing down a small, raspberry-filled pastry and a caramel nut bar. “Delicious.”