Vegas Moon

by R. M. Sotera

  The Stiletto Sanction 2

  Vegas Moon

  Psychic vampire Cindi Vera Cruz has no intention of falling in love with sanguine vampire Tristan Dane. She makes that fact perfectly clear to Tristan every chance she gets. He’s twenty-one years old, ten years her junior, and as she sees it, definitely not in her cards as a forever type of man, only a lover. But when Tristan decides he’s tired of her games and demands she admit her feelings for him, all hell breaks loose.

  Situations heat up when Tristan walks into the yearly Stiletto Sanction coven party only to find Cindi feeding on his energy without his consent. His shock turns into anger. And then anger turns into a game of battle of the wills. Tristan calls her bluff by raising the stakes in the blood play room. She has always been a willing participant in bleeding for him in the name of pleasure, but will she bleed to feed his need for pranic energy?

  Note: Hero involved in acts of vampirism.

  Genre: Contemporary, May-December

  Length: 24,691 words

  VEGAS MOON

  The Stiletto Sanction 2

  R.M. Sotera

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

  VEGAS MOON

  Copyright © 2012 by R.M. Sotera

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-020-0

  First E-book Publication: August 2012

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Vegas Moon by R.M. Sotera from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is R.M. Sotera’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Sotera’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  To my husband, Scott, and son, Austin—thanks for your continued love and support, and for putting up with my crazy writing schedule. I love you both more than words can ever express.

  AUTHOR NOTE

  The story thus far…

  Life is funny yet so very strange. Welcome, my friends, to the world of real vampires. The kind of people that crave pranic energy, and get it through blood drinking, aura drinking, and sexual means.

  The story began when a virginal Catholic girl, Mia Chritini, and her best friend, Cindi Vera Cruz, crashed a vampire party in a small town in Cassadaga, Florida. That night Mia’s sheltered and boring life changed forever.

  Months later she married Jordon De L’croix, the second in command of a very powerful vampire coven known as Stiletto Sanction. Jordan, considered to be a player in every sense of the word, found true love and redemption with Mia, but it didn’t come without a price.

  The day of their wedding, a gruesome murder took place thousands of miles away in Las Vegas, and it was rumored to be fueled by real vampire beliefs, thus the heads of Stiletto Sanction, Jordan and Jamison, headed to Sin City to see if they could help with the investigation.

  Mia, the newly wedded bride, did not take her man leaving lightly and insisted on accompanying the duo to Las Vegas. After much battling back and forth, Jordan finally caved, and Mia, Cindi, and another Sanction member followed.

  At the airport in Vegas, Mia was kidnapped. After a search, Mia was found, rushed to the hospital, flatlined, and came back to life. And then life took yet another spin when Jordan and Mia broke up, made up, and then finally entered the blood play room as participants for the first time. With this addition to the saga that is Stiletto Sanction, we get to know Mia’s best friend Cindi and Sanction member Tristan.

  Readers, sit back relax and enjoy the wild ride that’s Vegas Moon.

  R.M. Sotera

  VEGAS MOON

  The Stiletto Sanction 2

  R.M. SOTERA

  Copyright © 2012

  Prologue

  “Would you bleed for me?” Tristan Dane spoke the words to me as if he knew the hidden answer. He knew damn well I didn’t bleed as food for anybody. The night he confronted me, I was—how should I say this without you thinking me wicked? On second thought, do I care if you think me wicked? No, I don’t. I’ll just lay it out. I was feeding on him, without his knowledge.

  The young man’s pranic energy overflowed. Perhaps I should have asked him if I could have a taste, but I liked riling him. He was my little piece of caramel candy. On many occasions, I wanted to suck the flavor from his sexy body, but I’d kept my distance so that I wouldn’t give my best friend Mia a coronary. He had been a student in her drama class when we met. At that time I told her to chill because he happened to be eighteen, which under Florida law was an adult. Not to mention the sexy youngster was perfect for me.

  She thought otherwise. Sweet Mia, figures.

  Now he’s twenty-one. And I’m ready for a plaything.

  Chapter 1

  Puking would feel really awesome right now.

  Tristan Dane stretched both arms out to his side in an attempt to keep balance. What the hell is happening to me? Dizziness incapacitated his body in record speed. Heat coiled through his head. And when he thought he couldn’t withstand another form of abuse to his body, a cold sweat attacked his limbs. He was perfectly fine when he’d left the house a few hours ago, yet this moment he felt like the flu had just accosted him.

  His eyes wouldn’t focus as every image blurred into small white dots in his line of vision. Panic surfaced as he sucked in a breath, reasoning with himself to calm down. After he’d placed both palms on the side of his face, he closed his eyes. Calm down, c
alm down.

  His attempts at calming weren’t working.

  And puking sounded better and better.

  What the fuck? After a few excruciating moments, his heartbeat slowed at the same time the nausea disappeared. With his senses weak, but manageable, he opened his eyes and scanned the room.

  Stiletto Sanction rocked tonight as a flurry of people enveloped the massive room. The annual party that previously took place in Cassadaga, Florida, was moved this year to Las Vegas in honor of the many members from the Sin City Sanction that helped find the killer John Ennisbrooke last year, and it merged vampires from different walks of life. The psychic vampires lounged on circular white leather sofas around the perimeter of the room while the sanguine vampires hid in dark pockets tucked to the side. It made it easier for the sangs to feed when they were away from prying eyes.

  He didn’t mind feeding in public. It was a turn on in many ways. He probably shouldn’t have thought of food at this moment because just the thought sent a pang of nausea traveling through his stomach again. Shit.

  Feeling the oncoming dizziness, he secured a hand on the chair next to him and glanced around the room, zeroing in on the woman with the long, dark, curly hair.

  The newest addition to the Stiletto coven party, Victoria Levoux, voodoo high priestess from New Orleans, sat with her shapely legs crossed on one of the mahogany barstools drinking a glass of cabernet. Ever since the wedding of Jordan and Mia a few months ago, the woman’s presence had grown in the coven. Elder coven leader, Jamison Rierson, seemed to have a special attachment to her. One really couldn’t blame the man. She was a definite looker.

  Slowly he moved his gaze from her, and that’s when he recognized the culprit of his influx of ill health.

  Cindi Vera Cruz.

  Tristan swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as her name spun circles in his brain and the reality of what was going down hit him in the head like a brick hurled at optimum speed. Somebody, no, someone named Cindi Vera Cruz, was drawing energy from him. No wonder he felt weird. Witch!

  The culprit of his pain leaned against the back wall of the scarlet-painted room and pinned him with a blue-eyed gaze that would have melted him where he stood had he not been so damned pissed off. At that moment, regardless of how he felt about her, he wanted to cup his hands around her small throat and strangle the life from her, like she was doing to him right now, but instead he reasoned with himself not to overreact, which wasn’t all that easy for a twenty-one-year-old male, even one mature for his age. She knew better than to feed from him without his knowledge. Damn psychic vampire. Trying his best to contain his urge to leap across the floor and pounce on her, he moved his hand into his pocket, and maneuvered the silver talon claw onto his right index finger. Tools of his trade.

  Two can play your game, baby.

  He cut a glance toward the mahogany bar in the corner of the room, attempting to break Cindi’s penetrating stare with a once-over of Victoria’s sexy gams. And then when he was sure Cindi was slightly pissed by his once-over of Vic, he moved across the floor toward Cindi. Halfway into his pursuit, a seductive smile swept her face. Bitch!

  Within seconds he was standing in front of her, glaring down into her big blue eyes as he reasoned with his inner self to not let her cocky smile infuriate him further. She chuckled just as a shot of nausea traveled through his body again. Damn woman was feeding on him with him standing inches from her. He wanted to ring her neck, but instead he silently tried to reason sense into his muddled brain. I could rough her up a bit. No, no. Jordan has gotten me out of tons of shit. Snapping on her would probably send him into big-brother mode.

  Once he’d decided that beating her to a pulp would make him look bad, he forcefully cupped her elbow and pushed her toward the opened doorway. “What the fuck are you doing, woman?” The dim light in the hallway reflected against the pink-magenta hair resting on her shoulders. In that light she resembled an angel, a beautiful, pink angel. Tristan’s gaze crept down her body. He couldn’t help but admire the subtle cleavage peeking out from under her black lace blouse.

  Get a grip dude.

  Cindi pulled away from him. He hoped she realized that her amused assessment of him didn’t help her in the least. “Oh, relax, caramel candy. I didn’t suck you dry.”

  “I can’t believe you tapped me without my approval, or for that matter my knowledge. In the process of letting your hair grow, did you lose brain cells?” He edged in front of her. “Now it’s my turn.” He moved forward two steps until she was snug between him and the wall. “Where should I cut?” He moved his gaze down her fine looking body. “Your neck, shoulder, or perhaps you’d like to spread your legs for me, and I’ll cut a nice slice into your thigh?”

  “Wishful thinking, candy man. But not going to happen.” She placed her right hand, palm up, against his chest, and then burned him with a steely stare. “Hey, what the hell happened to your caramel-colored eyes?” Contacts replaced his normal eye color. Tiger eyes to be exact.

  Animal eyes were the new craze in the vampiric community—mainly sanguines wore the new eye adornments.

  “Don’t change the subject, Vera Cruz. Answer the question.” The fragrance coming off her skin was pure heaven to him. He inched closer in an attempt to fill his nostrils with the sweet honeysuckle aroma, only to have her petite hand push against his chest a second time. He snatched her wrist then pinned it against the wall above her.

  “You’re starting to piss me off, woman.” He inched the talon close to her neck and grazed the skin without drawing blood.

  She turned a contemplative look on him. A sappy, sweet sound moved from her throat. “What are you doing? I thought I told you, candy man, no blood from this vamp.”

  “The way I look at it, you stole from me. I’m going to even the score.” He should puncture her skin, but he couldn’t. Every nerve in his body shrieked to get to her. Yet, he kept the talon at bay. A swarm of butterflies attacked his stomach, just like they did the night he had met Cindi.

  He was a recently turned twenty-one-year-old, and she, well, she was the hottest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. The way her chin dimpled when she smiled at him that first night just about drove him into an early grave. He was overdosing in past memories when she cleared her throat and brought him back to the reality of their relationship in the here and now.

  “Are you going to release me anytime soon? I mean we both know you aren’t going to cut me.” Cindi said the words with so much conviction Tristan wanted to run the talon from her neck to her naval. Control yourself. His hands shook like he had downed a pot of espresso in five minutes. Calm down.

  The history between them wasn’t good for him, especially at an emotion-packed moment like this. He couldn’t deny that every nerve in his body ached for her and that deep down inside he wanted her to react to him this moment the way she reacted to him every weekend in the blood room in the house in Cassadaga. It was okay for her to bleed for him during playtime, but not to feed him, and lately her decision or belief, whatever the fuck it was, was making him insane.

  She laughed, a seductive laugh that tempted his ears and sent a bolt of electricity lancing straight through him. “I believe tonight is the night that you bleed for me, baby. Tonight I want to feed from you.”

  Her features rearranged, causing Tristan to narrow his gaze. “I don’t think so, pretty boy. Besides, since when have I ever given you everything that you desire?”

  Damned if that wasn’t an understatement.

  “Stop the shit, Vera Cruz. I’m a man, not a boy.” He leaned in, inhaling the sweet smell lifting from her pores and placed his lips against her cheek. “We both know that someday I’m going to feed from you. And you are going to love it.” His anger at her feeding from him without his knowledge and his desire to hear her say she wanted to feed him, that she wanted to feel his lips against her sliced flesh, propelled him to release her. “You can deny that you want me to taste you, but we both know someday it’s going to h
appen. And, baby, when it does, I’m going to make you beg for my lips to touch your opened flesh.”

  She glanced away for a brief second and then turned her ice-blue gaze back toward him.

  “I will never bleed for you, Tristan. You should probably get that in your head now, and keep it there. You can be on your deathbed, and I still won’t bleed for you. Bleeding for you for nourishment is not my thing.”

  Her words stung him, but he managed to whisper, “But blood play is okay?”

  Cindi closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “Tristan, blood play is not the same as feeding. You and I both know that. If the lines are suddenly crossing in your mind, then perhaps it’s time we stop the game.”

  Why was it easier for her to let him play with her in the blood room? He sliced her skin in there and licked the blood from her wounds, yet for her to feed him outside of those four walls was out of the question. And regardless of what he should do, feed on her in that room without her knowledge, there were certain things he just couldn’t do without her wanting it, and that happened to be one of them.

  Stunned by the force of the need pulsating through his blood to crush his lips to hers, he released her and took a few steps back. Her words continued to rip through him as if he just stuck his hand into a school of piranhas. I could be dying, and she would let me croak. I don’t need you either! There are tons of women who would bleed for me.