The Accidental Vampire Plus Vampires Are Forever and Bonus Material

by Lynsay Sands

  “My pilot is one of the best,” Harper informed her with pride. “He can land this contraption anywhere.”

  “So I see,” Elvi said with a laugh as they started across the street.

  “Have you ever been in a helicopter before?” he asked, eyes shining. When Elvi shook her head, he grinned. “Then this shall be a treat.”

  Elvi didn’t know about a treat, but it certainly was an experience. One she wasn’t entirely sure she enjoyed. It was quick, though, quicker than driving would have been, and it wasn’t long before they were setting down on a helipad on the rooftop of a building in downtown Toronto.

  “What did you think?” Harper asked expectantly as they rode down to ground level in a rather luxurious elevator.

  “I think I need a drink,” Elvi said honestly. The men all laughed as if she was joking, but Elvi was pretty sure she’d left her stomach behind in the school yard.

  “The Night Club is several blocks from here. Will you be able to manage in those shoes?” Victor asked, speaking for the first time since her arrival in the kitchen.

  “I think so,” Elvi said, and was sure it was true. Part of her outfit each night at the restaurant included high-heeled black shoes. She was quite used to walking and standing in the items.

  Victor nodded, and immediately returned to his previous silence, even stepping back for Harper to escort her as the elevator doors opened. She felt like a football passed off to the other man in a game and couldn’t help resenting it. Where had his interest gone? The other night he was claiming she was his lifemate and now he seemed to be staying as far away from her as possible.

  Hurt, Elvi felt her lip tremble, then bit it viciously and raised her chin as Harper escorted her out of the building. If he wasn’t interested anymore, fine. She had three other suitors to take his place. Her heart cried out that none of those three men were Victor, but Elvi’s pride insisted it would have to be enough.

  Slipping off her shoes under the table, Elvi peered around the Night Club. She wasn’t at all sure what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. With its loud music, flashing lights, and tables crowded around a dance floor, it could have been any mortal nightclub in any city in the world. Not that she’d thought there would be coffins for tables or upside-down crosses on the walls, but really, had she wandered in here by mistake, she was sure there was no way she would know it wasn’t a mortal nightclub.

  “What can I get you folks?”

  Elvi glanced to their waitress. Short, blond, and cute, the girl was no more than twenty-two or twenty-three. Obviously a university student earning her way through school— Elvi barely finished the thought when the woman burst out laughing

  “You must be a newbie. Honey, I haven’t seen twenty-three for over a century,” the waitress said, obviously having read her mind. Softening her words with a smile, she added, “The first drinks are on the house for new-bies. And it’s a Virgin Mary.”

  “Virgin Mary?” Elvi asked. She wasn’t sure, but suspected it wasn’t the drink she thought it would be.

  “Blood of virgins,” the woman informed her. “Very rare, very expensive, and very delicious.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” Elvi managed a smile. She’d noticed a difference in the taste of blood over the years, some were sweeter, some were more robust, some slightly bitter, some thin and almost watery tasting. But it had never occurred to her that the blood of a virgin would taste different than a non-virgin. It made her wonder what the blood of a virgin would taste like. She’d probably had it at least once in five years, but wouldn’t know by the flavor. Elvi supposed she’d find out soon enough, though, then frowned as she noted the way the woman was raising her eyebrows at Victor.

  “Well, hello Mr. Argeneau. You’re running a little late, aren’t you?”

  “Am I?” he asked with apparent confusion.

  “Well, the rest of the tribe got here an hour ago,” the waitress explained.

  Elsie saw the panic cross Victor’s face, but he asked carefully, “The tribe?”

  “Etienne and Rachel, Lissianna and Greg, Thomas, and Lucian, and some girl I’ve never seen before that they called Leigh.” She shrugged and continued, “But if you were expecting to meet up with them, I’m afraid you’re too late. They already left.”

  “What a shame,” he murmured, but Elvi got the distinct impression he wasn’t sorry to hear this at all.

  “So, what would you have to drink?” the waitress asked when he didn’t comment further.

  “Most of the people she mentioned are relatives of Victor’s, his niece and nephews and their mates,” Harper murmured as Victor gave his order. “I don’t know who this Leigh is, but Lucian is head of the council and Victor’s older brother.”

  “His older brother?” Elvi asked with disbelief, finding it hard to believe there was anyone older than Victor.

  “He is one of the oldest,” Harper said with a nod. “Lucian and his twin brother Jean Claude were among the very few survivors who fled Atlantis.”

  “Atlantis. Right,” Elvi murmured, recalling their explanation of the nanos and where they originated.

  “Would you care to dance while we wait for our drinks?” Harper asked once the waitress had finished taking their orders and left the table.

  For some reason, Elvi’s gaze shifted to Victor before she answered. His expression was completely indifferent and she was reminded that he had apparently lost interest in her. Forcing a bright smile, she nodded and got to her feet. “I’d like that.”

  Elvi had always loved to dance, fast dancing, slow dancing; she loved it all and hadn’t done it in ages. That and the fact that Victor was completely ignoring her, his attention seeming always to be on another table or just moving around the club, encouraged her to avoid the table and dance most of the night away. As long as she was on the dance floor, she didn’t have to feel hurt that he was being so distant with her. And could pretend she didn’t notice when he slipped away for half an hour.

  Elvi danced with all the men but Victor. Edward was very good at salsa. Alessandro was the best of them at fast dancing. Harper was efficient at them all, but it was Victor she really wanted to dance with and the only one who didn’t ask her.

  Despite her wounded feelings, Elvi had a good time, but she was also relieved when Harper caught her yawning and decided it was time to go. It was only two A.M., but she’d been up early again that day, rising at ten A.M. to work on the pies.

  Aside from that, her feet were aching, her body weary, and she’d definitely had too much to drink. The Virgin Mary had only been the first of many. Every time Elvi had sat down, it seemed one of the men had a new drink for her to try. She’d had High Times, Wino Reds, and various other drinks she later found out were supplied by donors on some high or other.

  Personally, Elvi would’ve preferred to stick to Sweet Tooths and drinks of that ilk. She didn’t care for the woozy feeling the other beverages gave her and was just glad she was dancing the worst of the effects away…or so she’d thought. However, when she stood to leave after finishing her last drink at the end of the night, Elvi found herself a little unsteady on her feet.

  The walk back to the helicopter seemed farther than the walk from it had been, but Elvi got there all right and settled between Harper and Victor with a little sigh of relief. It seemed they’d barely taken off when her eyes began to droop from a combination of overfeeding and the substances in the drinks. She soon let her eyes droop closed, and relaxed in her seat.

  “She’s asleep,” Harper murmured when the helicopter landed and Elvi didn’t stir from where she’d slumped back against the seat.

  “Yes.” Victor lifted her into his arms. He knew he shouldn’t. He’d determined to try to keep some distance from her while they sorted out who was gunning for him…or her, but while he’d stood aside and let Harper, Edward, and Alessandro hang over her all evening, it had been a sort of hell to do so…made worse by the fact that Elvi hadn’t even seemed to care.

  He’d originally int
ended to take her aside and explain what he was doing, but hadn’t got the chance before leaving, and then she’d just seemed so okay with it, his wounded pride had refused to allow him to do it, reminding him that while he couldn’t read her, neither could the rest of the men. Any of them would suit her as a lifemate and she apparently had her choice. Despite having slept with him, she may not have committed herself. After all, Victor had reminded himself, she’d fled the house after his announcing that she was his lifemate. Perhaps that was her way of telling him something.

  Despite all of that, Victor would be damned if he was leaving her to be carried to the house by one of the others. As far as he was concerned he’d shown enough restraint for a lifetime standing idly by while she danced with them when his very blood had cried out with rage at the very idea. As for the drinks they’d talked her into trying, Victor would have liked to wring Edward and Alessandro’s necks for suggesting them. And hers for trying them without asking what they were.

  Elvi was far too trusting and was just fortunate the four of them were there, acting as a restraint on each other. He wouldn’t like to think of her alone with Alessandro insisting she drink this or that and not telling her what the contents were until after she’d imbibed it. The man was a Cassanova, and though he was behaving himself so far, Victor suspected that was only due to the presence of the others.

  As for Edward…Victor frowned. He had no idea what the Brit was up to. He wasn’t the sort to try to get a lady drunk and take advantage of her, but he’d suggested an intoxicating drink or two that night. Although, that was only at the beginning of the evening and may have been an attempt to make her relax a little and enjoy herself. Elvi had been slightly tense and wound up at first.

  They were nearly to the gate leading out of the school yard when the helicopter started its rotor whirling. Pressing Elvi closer to his chest to protect her from the flying debris it kicked up, Victor scowled over his shoulder at the bloody machine. Elvi had been obviously impressed that Harper had his own personal whirlybird. He didn’t know why. Hell, he could have a helicopter if he wanted one but he hated the damned things. He flew in them often enough as an enforcer and always felt like his stomach got left behind and took hours to catch up.

  “You’re back!” DJ came running down the driveway as they started up it, his expression and tone panicked. “Thank God!”

  “What is it?” Victor asked, automatically picking up his steps and moving more quickly.

  “Mabel,” DJ gasped, turning and hurrying back toward the house. “I think something’s wrong.”

  “Mabel?” Elvi asked sleepily as DJ disappeared into the house, not waiting for them or even bothering to explain.

  Victor glanced down as he crossed the deck.

  Elvi was stirring in his arms, rubbing her hands over her face in an effort to wake up. She glanced around with confusion. “Are we back?”

  “Yes,” he muttered, stepping through the door Harper held open, and then all hell broke loose. Mabel’s shrieks could be heard the moment they were in the house, the sound filled with desperate agony. It turned Elvi into a scalded cat in his arms. The only thing missing was the hissing as she suddenly thrashed around to free herself. Afraid she would hurt herself, Victor set her down, and then gave chase when she raced for the stairs.

  “Mabel!” Elvi shouted as the woman’s screams clawed down her back, leaving icy trails in their wake. She mounted the stairs at a run, hearing the thunder of the men following her, but uncaring what they did.

  She burst into Mabel’s bedroom at speed. Spotting the woman thrashing in the bed despite DJ’s attempts to restrain her, she hurried to the bedside to help.

  “What happened?!” Elsie yelled, trying to hold down Mabel’s shoulders. She was a thing in motion, head whipping, body convulsing, and Elvi couldn’t see her properly to tell where she was hurting. Much to her relief, on hearing her voice Mabel’s screams dropped to quiet moans. She continued to thrash, though, and Elvi repeated, “What happened?”

  “I was trying to turn her,” DJ said anxiously and shook his head. “But something’s gone wrong. She’s…” He let the words drop away and caught at one of Mabel’s hands as she slammed it into the bed headboard.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, DJ!” Victor stomped to the side of the bed with the other men following. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were going to turn her? I could have helped. There’s no need for her to go through this. There are drugs and things we could have done to ease her through it.”

  “I didn’t know!” DJ explained. “It wasn’t planned. We were talking and she said she wanted to, and to do it now before she changed her mind. So I…did,” he said helplessly. “I’ve never seen a turning before. I didn’t know it would be so…Help her!” he cried as Mabel’s shrieks increased in volume again.

  Victor shook his head with exasperation, and then took charge, sending Alessandro to find some rope to tie her down, Harper to the nearest twenty-four-hour drugstore to make the pharmacist give him the drugs that would help her through it, and sending Edward to fetch more blood.

  “How long ago did you give her your blood?” Victor asked as soon as the three men had left to search out what he’d sent them for.

  “I…” DJ looked uncertain. “It seems like days. I thought you’d never get back.”

  “What time?” Victor insisted.

  “Maybe an hour after you guys left,” DJ said finally.

  “How much blood have you given her?” Victor asked.

  “I—” He shook his head. “None. She hasn’t got fangs yet.”

  DJ had barely said the words when Mabel proved him wrong. Elvi was kneeling on the top corner of the bed, leaning over Mabel trying to hold her shoulders down. She also had her head turned away, glancing toward the men as Victor asked his questions. She never saw it coming when Mabel suddenly reared up and ripped into her throat with a frenzied snarl. She sure felt it though…and there were definitely fangs there. Elvi managed a strangled scream that got the men’s attention. They both immediately moved to help her.

  Seventeen

  Victor let the towel drop back down over Elvi’s throat with a soft curse. “She damned near ripped your head off.”

  “She didn’t mean to,” Elvi reminded him for the third time since he’d bundled her into her room and settled her in his lap on the bed to pop bag after bag of blood to her fangs. Her voice, she noticed, was getting better, less a broken hiss and more her old voice. It must be nearly healed.

  “Don’t talk,” Victor said, also for the third time, and slapped another bag of blood to her teeth. He was scowling, but the expression actually soothed her. The man had been cold and distant all night, but there was nothing cold or distant about him now. He definitely cared about her. He was furious and worried and all the things a man who loved her should be when she was so badly injured.

  It was just a darned shame she had to get her throat ripped open to see his caring again, Elvi thought, and scowled at him over the bag in her mouth. Really, the man blew hot and cold like an air conditioner with a broken thermostat.

  “How is she?” Harper asked, drawing their attention to the door.

  “Fine,” Elvi assured him, pulling the empty bag from her teeth. “How is Mabel?”

  “She’s doing better,” he said cautiously. “It’s going to be a long one, though. She’s older and there’s a lot to repair. We’re going to need more blood.”

  “I’ll call Teddy. He’ll pick up some from the blood bank and bring it by,” Elvi assured him. “Do we have enough to last a couple more hours? I’d rather not wake him up at”—she paused to glance at the clock, then finished—“four-thirty in the morning.”

  Harper considered the matter before saying, “Barring her ripping out someone else’s throat, I think the blood will last until midmorning.”

  Elvi nodded. “I’ll call him first thing in the morning, then. He’ll be upset when he hears what’s happened and it would be better if she was further alo
ng in the turning.”

  Nodding, Harper backed out of the room, assuring them he’d keep them posted as he pulled the door closed.

  “I don’t know how you can be so calm about all this,” Victor muttered, taking the empty blood bag from her and tossing it in the garbage can he’d moved beside the bed.

  “She didn’t do it on purpose,” Elvi repeated as he reached for a fresh bag.

  “Yes, but—Hell, you seem almost cheerful about it,” Victor said with bewilderment.

  “Well,” Elvi said, a smile curving her lips, “I sort of am.”

  “Why, for Christ’s sake?” he asked with exasperation.

  “Because now I don’t have to feel guilty about my biting her when I was turning in Mexico,” she pointed out and then added more seriously, “I’ve suffered horrible guilt about that over the years. Horrible, horrible guilt,” Elvi said with a sigh, and then shrugged. “But now I don’t have to. She’s bitten me back, so we’re even.”

  “Women,” Victor muttered with disgust. “Your reasoning never fails to bewilder me.”

  Elvi narrowed her eyes and muttered, “We’re no worse than you men. None of you make sense either, and you’re the worst, as changeable as the wind.”

  “What?” Victor asked with surprise, but she’d already slapped the blood bag to her teeth and he had to wait while it drained.

  “What do you mean I’m as changeable as the wind?” Victor asked again once the bag was empty and she’d removed it from her mouth.

  “Nothing,” Elvi said, too tired to be bothered arguing with him at this point.

  Sitting up, she removed the towel from her throat and got to her feet, then walked to the mirror to peer at her wound. She’d been woozy from blood loss when Victor had brought her in here, but aware enough that she understood what the men said as they kept Victor updated with what was going on. She knew the men had tied Mabel down, fed her several bags of blood, and given her the drugs Harper had fetched back. They’d kicked in quickly and Mabel’s screams had soon become nothing but a memory.