Not His Vampire: Vampire Romance (Not This Series Book 3)

by Annie Nicholas

  “My point is that you saved her. She was dead otherwise. You gave her a second chance and she seems happy with it.”

  Viktor scanned his torso for an empty spot. He wanted to see her name without the use of a mirror. She was the only one he had turned into a vampire so she should have a place of honor.

  Eoin thought he’d saved Trixie. He cocked his head and met his friend’s falsely innocent stare. “You have not explained how saving Trixie is karma, in your opinion.”

  “I don’t believe in karma, but for your sake… She’s your chance at redemption.”

  Was that possible? He did not dare move as he considered Eoin’s suggestion. Could he be redeemed? He knew the names on his body would not agree.

  “You’re over thinking things, Viktor.” Eoin held up the ink. “Where do you want her name?”

  There wasn’t much space left. He offered Eoin the inside of his bare right wrist. “Here.” No names adorned his limbs.

  Eoin bent over his flesh. “Don’t move.” And he carved out her name in clear letters. The spot was sensitive and Viktor clenched his teeth, fighting a groan of pain. The dragon cut extra deep this time. “Maybe by teaching Trixie to be a model, law abiding vampire, you will be teaching yourself.”

  “I am more apt to turn her into a mass murderer.”

  “If you leave her alone, she will become one for sure.” Eoin knew the details of his past yet remained his friend. More proof that dragons had poor judgment.

  “The New Port nest will look after her training.” The best thing he could offer Trixie was his absence, though their short time apart at present was already making his skin itch for her touch. “My lieutenants are very loyal and have dealt with many fledglings over the years. She would be much better off.”

  The dragon stopped carving into his flesh.

  “You do realize I am made of skin and bone, not scales and hide?” He stared at dark blood forming a puddle at Eoin’s feet. “I do not think you went deep enough. Her name is not etched on my bones.”

  Eoin applied the ink and the tissues sizzled.

  Viktor hissed.

  “Sissy.” Eoin turned his wrist into the light as he wiped it clean.

  His healing abilities sealed her name into his skin. He examined Eoin’s penmanship. “Well done. I half-expected you to place hearts over the i.” Instead, the dragon had done scroll work. A piece of original dragon art. No matter what, Viktor would be reminded of her every night.

  “What else do you have to occupy your time if not teaching her while you are my guests?” Eoin leaned back in his chair.

  “There is that pesky problem of a spell book in the hands of an idiot.” Viktor flexed his wrist as the pain vanished.

  “Consider it a done deal.” Eoin grinned. “I called Riverbend’s wolf pack alpha and explained the situation. He’ll take care of it.”

  Viktor slapped his forehead. “He is a puppy.” The last thing they needed was a shifter/vampire incident in Riverbend. As senior vampire in the territory, he would eventually be dragged into this. Better to nip it in the bud.

  “Chris has an interest in this.”

  “Is that his name?” The young alpha’s name would not be on his radar unless he retained pack control for more than a few years. Werewolf packs changed alphas often, keeping them too unstable to obtain any real power. Ryota had had control of New Port’s pack for decades. For this, Viktor bothered remembering Ryota’s name.

  “Did you know Betty and Chris were a couple before she moved to New Port?” Eoin cleaned his hand with one of the discarded rags.

  Viktor recalled the little shifter girl. She had a rare tattoo spell inked on her arm. He eyed the dragon, who was not prone to gossip. “What is your point?”

  “Let’s just say the tattoo artist destroyed the alpha’s future with Betty. He’ll find her, is my point.”

  “Fantastic.” Viktor tossed his hands in the air.

  “I thought so until now. Why are you so angry?”

  “This is why you should leave vampire matters to the vampire master.” He paced the room, fisting his hair. “The puppy will kill the dumbass dhampir tattoo artist. Then the dumbass’ nest will hunt the puppy. Then his pack will cry foul play and attack the vampires.” Viktor slapped his chest with both hands. “Then I will be called in to kill them all.” He paced the room that suddenly seemed too restricted. “Stupid,” he shouted at the wall.

  Eoin’s eyes narrowed. “What did you call me?”

  “Shifters.” He turned to face the fire breathing dragon whose eyes had changed to slits. “You all think with this.” He tapped Eoin over the heart. Not intimidated. He was not fire proof but neither did he care if he burned. Except, who would care for Trixie? whispered a distant voice in the back of his mind. He retreated and gave Eoin space to breathe. “I ask that you let me take care of this discreetly.” He pushed that small urge back inside the box it had escaped. He would not be tempted.

  Not until she was trained…

  No. He shook his head.

  “You didn’t explain why. If you had, then I would have…” Eoin scratched his head.

  “I was not aware that Betty and the puppy had a past. That is what changes everything. The alpha would not have cared enough to kill the dhampir otherwise.”

  “I still can’t set you loose. Not in your…” He grinned showing sharp teeth. “Delicate state.”

  “Fuck you, Eoin. Vampire territories are much larger than shifters. I let the nests run themselves but I won’t let a war start.”

  Eoin slapped him on the shoulder, harder than necessary. “Old friend, I wouldn’t let that happen. Let me talk to Riverbend’s alpha again. I’ll make sure he doesn’t kill the dhampir.”

  Viktor was sure that conversation would go over well. Heartbroken with everything to prove to his pack? There was no chance at all the young alpha would listen to Eoin.

  He sighed. Dragons. “I am sure all will be well.” He held up his new tattoo. “Nicely done. I will go check on Trixie.”

  The night was young, after all.

  Trixie stared out of the bedroom window. Dark forest her only view in any direction. Her tower room faced the opposite direction of New Port. As a child, she’d always dreamed of being a princess who lived in a castle. Now all she wanted was to escape.

  Not to see Ruby. She’d learned her lesson. She wouldn’t endanger her sister again. She needed to learn control before she returned home. Trapped in this tower, she wouldn’t learn anything.

  She turned her back to the view and her old life. The clock on the wall showed that her shift with New Port’s animal control would have started if she hadn’t been suspended. She hung her head.

  Angie had left her in a similar bedroom as before. The furniture had seen better days, however it was in better condition than anything she owned. Antique wood edged the floral material of the chairs and loveseat. Everything matched, like it was a set. Not scraped together in thrift store chic. The bed took half the space of the room. It was monstrous with thick tapestry curtains that hung from a canopy. Very Bram Stoker. It never would have fit in her bedroom.

  Viktor strode in without knocking and closed the door behind him. “We have to leave.”

  Heart in throat, she’d spun around. “Can you read minds?” In vampire movies, they had mind control powers and could turn into bats and other cool shit. She’d rather he not poke in hers.

  “This is not a joking matter.” He crossed the room to the window and scanned outside.

  “I wasn’t joking. You said the exact thing I was thinking.”

  He tossed her a surprised glance. “I thought I had made it clear how returning to your sister was dangerous.”

  “I don’t want to go home. I want to learn how to control my hunger so I can return to her safely. I don’t think I’ll learn that inside this castle with bag blood room service.”

  The corner of his lips curled, turning her into honey. Now, that was a super power she wanted.

  Vikt
or could have deserted her with the dragons to babysit. “Why the sudden change of heart?” Trixie asked. “You gave Eoin your word you would stay here.” He was including her in his plans though and acting saner. Maybe he was ready to go out into the world, or she was hanging her hopes on her sire so she could try her vampire training wheels.

  He wagged his finger. “I gave my word that I would return here. I never agreed to stay.” He shrugged. “I had to promise him something last night or he would have dragged both of us to the dungeon. By the time the dragons discover we are gone, we will have a head start. First, we need a vehicle.”

  Trixie’s teeth clicked shut. “You bluffed the dragon?”

  “No, I lied to him.” He frowned. “I do not like males in that way so I certainly would not bluff one.”

  She jerked her head back and frowned. Bluff? Maybe he thought she’d said blew? English wasn’t Viktor’s first language, obviously, so she let the misunderstanding slide. She shook her head. It would take too much time to explain and they had an escape to plan. “How will we get out of the castle without the dragons knowing? I doubt they’ll let us walk out the front door.”

  “Impossible. Eoin will have spelled the doors by now. It will chime if a vampire crosses the threshold.”

  “You know this how?”

  “I have attempted to escape during my other stays.”

  “Did any of your escapes ever work?”

  “No.” Viktor opened the window.

  They needed to chat about these imprisonments. Normal friends didn’t lock each other up routinely. It sounded like they’d been doing this for decades and maybe her sire needed an intervention on abusive relationships. Did Eoin hurt Viktor during these stays?

  She drew closer to her sire as he scanned the castle walls below them. “What did you speak to Eoin about that you needed to be alone?”

  He glanced at his wrist but didn’t show it to her. “Nothing. Well…that is not the truth. I want to find the tattoo artist who spelled your friend, Betty. The one who prevented her from ever shifting to her wolf form. Eoin has a lead on her.”

  She gasped. Betty had suffered so much for such a simple mistake, all because some artist used a spell book as art examples for tattoos. Betty had picked one, not knowing the symbol was black magic. The person who had done this needed to be stopped before she wrecked anyone else’s life. Betty was her best friend. Not once had she ever let Trixie down. Even when she’d turned up at Betty’s dog rescue in the middle of the night with an unconscious werewolf in her animal control truck. Betty had just rolled up her sleeves and helped carry his heavy ass inside.

  Friends like that were for life and someone had hurt Betty. Possibly others too. Trixie rubbed her temples. “I’m in.” She wasn’t a vigilante, but she couldn’t ignore this opportunity. “Let’s blow this joint.”

  “Bluff,” responded Viktor as he tested the windowsill with his weight.

  “No, blow.” She pressed her lips together. “How long have you been living in this country?”

  He stopped what he was doing. “Why?”

  “Because someone your age should be able to speak the language properly without an accent.”

  Viktor slid back into the room with liquid grace. He slowly stalked her. “You do not find my accent alluring?”

  Her eyes followed the shift of lean muscle and male strength. He was built perfectly in proportion. His body well defined and his skin glowed with the moonlight—smooth and lineless—that she found mesmerizing.

  “Do I meet your liking?” He loomed over her and her eyes met ones that glowed with a predator’s light in the dark.

  Her mouth was bone dry and her skull full of liquid intelligence. “It’s not the accent, but your vocabulary I’m annoyed with.” So smooth. Her flirting skills killed. Literally, they were killing her. His presence pushed against her—stroking, electrifying, persistent. He had tied his long hair at the nape of his neck with a leather strip, exposing the strong line of his jaw.

  “Maybe I annoy you on purpose to see you inflamed and hot.” He trailed his fingers over her heated skin. His touch made every nerve ending ignite, but she held strong against the urge to lean into his hand. She could handle him. She’d turn down men just as sexy.

  Wow, her self-denial was good.

  Viktor let his hand drop and leaned back against the windowsill, gesturing for her to approach. “Come.”

  Without hesitation, she moved toward the most dangerous predator she could imagine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Viktor jerked Trixie against him, arm wrapped around her waist in a vise-like grip.

  She let out a surprised noise.

  He leaned her over the windowsill and pointed to the rough surface of the wall. “We will climb down along this route to the ground.”

  “You are nuts.” She tried to push free but he held her fast.

  “No, not anymore. Your birth pulled me out of my blood delirium. You are stronger than you know, Trixie.” He leaned them forward. “What will happen if you fall?”

  She breathed heavily, gripping the edges of the window. “I’ll die.”

  “No, you might break a few bones, but they will heal quickly.”

  “Oh, is that all?” She gave him a watery smile. “Just a few broken bones? Won’t that hurt?” That was a far fall, and she was pretty sure she’d die, no matter what he said.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Did I mislead you by saying that?”

  “You said I wouldn’t die.”

  “You would not, but your bones are still fragile and breaking them does cause considerable amount of pain.”

  “And screaming. Don’t forget the screaming.”

  He frowned, staring at the ground. “I am not used to dealing with fledglings.”

  “From this height, I’ll break every bone in my body and live to feel it.”

  “Yes.”

  “How is this supposed to convince me to climb out this window? You’re really not selling me this idea.”

  Viktor pulled them back inside and stripped the sheet off the bed. Twisting the material and tying them together, he made a poor excuse of a rope.

  “That won’t reach the ground.” She inched away.

  He snapped it like a whip. “It doesn’t need to reach the ground. I will tie one end to your waist and the other to mine. If you fall, I will anchor you to the wall.”

  She wanted to smack him upside his pretty head and make sure it didn’t ring empty. “And what if you fall? I get to land on top of you?” Shaking her head, she stormed to the door. “You climb. I’ll take my chances with the stairs.”

  He snapped the sheet and it twisted around her arms and torso. Slowly, he reeled her in. This time she saw no amusement in his glare. “I don’t fall. Even if I did, I would not allow you any harm. I would catch you.”

  “With your shattered arms?” she whispered, unable to stop arguing. This was unlife they were discussing and how climbing down a freaking tower would be good for her. He had admitted to not being used to new vampires. He’d also been a prisoner because he was coocoo in the head. Was she supposed to toss caution to the wind every time he batted those thick eyelashes in her direction?

  Nay, nay.

  “My dear, my bones don’t break.” He unwound the sheet, freeing her arms then tied it tight with an intricate knot around her waist.

  “Do I have a choice?” She wasn’t silly enough to think she could fight him. The best she could do was survive this ordeal. Think like a cat, climb like a cat, land like a cat.

  Except cats didn’t climb castle walls.

  “This is important, Trixie.” He said her name carefully as if listening to the syllables tumble off this tongue. The crazy vampire she’d met in the dungeon was no longer present. He’d been replaced by a confident man who captured her attention. “I need you to know that I would not endanger your life, and I am trying to prevent needless deaths.” He tied the sheet around his narrow waist, connecting them with a life line of ve
ry old cotton.

  Yeah, she felt safe.

  “The spells kill?” Then Betty was lucky to only have been cursed.

  “It’s a complicated situation made worse by a helpful dragon.” He lifted her onto the windowsill as if she weighed nothing. His eyes brightened. “I could just carry you as I climb.”

  “No way.” She frowned and swung her leg over the side. “How could you think that is better?” Totally dependent on his skill while her body unbalanced him more. She clung to the edge of the sill, her legs dangling. “I just want you to know that so far being a vampire sucks.” She’d flown over the city twice in one day via either gargoyle or dragon, been drunk on alcohol-infused blood, now she was scaling a castle wall. What next? Storm the citadel? Juggle grenades?

  She could her Viktor in her head. Do not worry, Trixie. They might blow your hands off but they will eventually grow back.

  Heart pounding so hard. “Why do I feel short of breath? Can’t we live without air?” She felt the wall with her shoes and couldn’t get a sense of purchase. Kicking them off, she tried barefoot. Spread toes worked better and she managed to hold her weight.

  “You are not dead. That’s just a myth,” he whispered. “Silently now. We do not want to alert the dragons.”

  Think jail break. Think Alcatraz. “Sorry, I babble when my life is in danger.” She forced her hands to move, struggling not to close her eyes.

  “Shh…” Viktor fed the rope out the window as he followed her out.

  “Don’t shush me,” she mumbled under her breath. “Flipping vampire thinks I’m a spider. Do I look like I have eight legs?” She continued at a snail’s pace, a litany of whispered verbal trash flowed like an unconscious stream of thought. “Chipped my nail. Owie. I’ll have to redo my nail polish.”

  Viktor patiently followed. As long as she kept her voice low, he didn’t seem to mind her nervous talk.

  Halfway, she hit a ledge and clung to the wall for a rest. She flexed her cramping digits. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. She turned her head so her sweaty face pressed to the cool stone.