Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance

by Travis Luedke

  “They own a mining company, and so they’re really busy.”

  “Is that why you’re staying on campus?”

  Brooke shrugged. “I’m used to staying away. I’ve been at boarding school since I was eleven.”

  Again, I tried not to judge, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. As bizarre as my own family’s setup was, they’d never sent me away and would have happily kept me under their roof until I turned thirty.

  Not bothering to unpack, I left my stuff on my bed, made my excuses to Brooke, and headed back out.

  I walked away from the dorms and went back to the central building on campus. Through the main doors, I made my way down a couple of different corridors, my shoes squeaking on the polished wood floors. I pushed open another set of heavy, arched doors and entered the place I’d been aiming for.

  The accommodation for the students had been added on more recently in the history of the college, and contained none of the atmosphere of the main building. In the hushed silence of the library, I could sense the history of this place. Somewhere above my head, pipes ticked, as though the building itself had a heartbeat. This was the one part of school I’d been excited about spending time in since I’d decided which college I wanted to attend. The library not only housed my favorite things in the world—books—but was also the base for the school newspaper, The Sage Gazette. I’d applied to become a junior staff writer as soon as I’d received my acceptance letter, and I wanted to get my face in front of the Editor in Chief, Dana Trestle.

  The office for the school newspaper was positioned in a far more modern room set at the back of the library. Glass walls divided it from the rest of the space, but cream blinds hung, partially open, offering the people inside a modicum of privacy. I glanced between the slats as I approached. Several desks were positioned around the periphery of the room, but only one desk had someone sitting behind it—the person, I assumed, I’d hoped to see.

  Her red hair sprung in tight ringlets around her heart-shaped face. These were perfect curls, not the messy frizz I spent half my life trying to straighten out with a pair of heating irons. Her pale skin was spattered with freckles, and a pair of Ghost glasses framed her eyes. She was obviously a couple of years older than I was and seemed to be the epitome of a sophisticated woman. I suddenly became hugely conscious of the scruffy sweats I still wore and cursed myself for not changing before I came to make my introductions.

  Hesitantly, my heart picking up its pace with nerves, I lifted my hand to rap on the glass door with my knuckles.

  I hovered, my hand still held above the glass, as I debated going back and changing. What the hell had I been thinking anyway?

  Just as I was about to step away, she lifted her head and caught sight of me.

  Darn. Busted.

  I continued to hesitate—did I knock now, or just go in? But she answered my question by smiling and beckoning me in with a finger.

  Twisting the handle, I cracked open the door and stuck my head in. “Hi, sorry, I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

  “No, not at all. I’m just catching up on some stuff. What can I do for you?”

  I slunk around the door and crossed the room, my hand out. I wouldn’t normally willingly make physical contact with someone new, but in this case I needed to make an impression. “Elizabeth Bandores. I’m your new staff writer.”

  The smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth. She slid her glasses from her nose, dropping them to her desk, and rose to meet me. I was by no means short, but she must have been close to six feet.

  “Hi, Elizabeth,” she said. She reached out and shook my hand. I tried to ignore the flash I got of her fighting with someone, an older man. Her father? No, he was too young. Despite the flecks of white around his temple, he didn’t look anywhere near old enough to be her parent. I saw her shove him in the chest, her face streaked with tears. There was too much passion in the action for her to be related to this dark-haired man.

  I dropped her hand and removed myself from her future argument—yes, future. I could see that clearly.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. Clearly, I’d zoned out for a little too long. I had to watch myself.

  I flashed a smile. “Yes, I’m great.”

  “Well, you’re certainly eager.”

  “I am, huh? Yeah, I guess I am.”

  She jerked her chin toward the plastic chair set across from her, on my side of the desk. “Take a seat. You must have had a busy day.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not been too bad. I wanted to get started.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve actually got a job for you if you want to get your feet wet early. I like to get something out within the first couple of days of all you new guys starting the semester—a kind of ‘welcome to Sage Springs College’ edition.”

  I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, my fingers laced together. “Yeah, that would be awesome.”

  “I need you to go and interview Flynn Matthews. Do you know who he is?” I shook my head. “He’s the captain of our swim team. We’re very proud of our swim team here at Sage Springs. Some of the members are potential Olympic competitors.”

  Inwardly, I groaned. Sports. I knew nothing about sports, especially not swimming. What the hell was I going to ask him—can you swim underwater? How long can you hold your breath? I knew I should have changed my outfit. The sweats must have made her think I’d be ideal for this assignment.

  On the outside, I flashed a smile and said, “Great! I love swimming.”

  Where the hell had that come from?

  “Cool. He’ll be down at the gym. Do you know where that is?”

  I nodded. I’d been shown around on the tour, though the gym certainly wasn’t a place I’d ever imagined myself attending.

  “You got a pen and paper handy?”

  I nodded to my purse. “I always carry a notepad and pen. You never know when something inspiring might hit.”

  Dana grinned at me, her gray eyes lightening a shade. “You sound like my type of girl. I think we’re going to get on just great, Elizabeth Bandores.”

  Chapter

  4

  The sounds of the gym came muffled through the door. Feet hitting the treadmill, grunts of someone trying to lift weights, MTV on in the background. Someone brushed by me as I lurked outside. A towel was slung over the guy’s shoulder as he barged through the door. The gym’s noise blasted out to me before the door settled shut again.

  I hopped from foot to foot, trying to build up the courage to go in.

  Come on, I told myself. This is nothing. What if I ended up as an actual reporter and had to go to war-torn lands to get the latest story? How could I do things like that if I didn’t even have the guts to walk into the college gym?

  The thing was, all the people working out would be older than me—second and third years. The kids my own age were only just arriving and were far too preoccupied with settling in to bother heading for a workout.

  I took a deep breath and pressed my lips together. I really needed to stop hanging around outside doors.

  Letting my breath out in a whoosh, I pushed my way into the gym. Heat and the faint tang of body odor clung to the air. Everyone seemed busy with their own thing. The occupants barely glanced at me as I stood, still feeling awkward, my eyes scouring the machines. I didn’t even know what the star of the swim team looked like. It wasn’t as though he would be wearing a name tag.

  A skinny guy in a football top about four sizes too big stopped at the water fountain to my right. He bent his head to take a drink, and the shirt ruffled up around his neck like an Elizabethan collar. He was certainly the least intimidating of the bunch.

  “Excuse me?” I said. He jerked upward with a cough and a splutter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  His eyes took me in, the briefest flick up and down my body, resting only briefly on my chest.

  “That’s okay,” he said, his hand over his mouth to stifle another cough. “You lost?” />
  “No, I’m looking for Flynn Matthews. I’m a new staff writer with the Sage Gazette.”

  “Oh, right.” His narrow shoulders dropped. “He’s over here. Come with me.”

  My heart sank as we crossed the gym to where a guy sat on a bench, lifting weights. The moment I saw him, I recognized him from earlier in the day when he’d nudged me and asked me if I was dreaming.

  “Flynn,” my escort said, lifting his voice to be heard above the rest of the ruckus. “You’ve got a visitor.”

  The blond lifted his head and caught sight of me, a slow grin spreading across his face. “And there was me thinking you’d finally picked up a girl, Shawn.”

  A flush crept up around Shawn’s throat, and I experienced a pang of sympathy for him. However uncomfortable I felt at times, it couldn’t be easy being his build in a world full of jocks and gym-bunnies.

  Flynn’s eyes were an aqua green and incredibly sharp. I felt myself shrink under his gaze. But he kept it on my face, and I gave him credit for that. I’d been blessed with curves, and most guys checked them out before they’d even bothered looking at my face.

  “You’ve woken up then, huh?”

  I gave him a tight smile. “I was never asleep. I just like to think, that’s all.”

  “Think or dream?”

  “As long as either one uses the brain and imagination, I don’t see what’s the difference.” I glanced down at the weights and added, “But I believe in using brain above brawn.”

  His eyebrows lifted at my comment. “Some people don’t have a choice.”

  “Aren’t you even going to ask me why I’m here?” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

  He glanced down at the smart phone, tucked just beneath the bench, and then bent to retrieve it. “I’m assuming you’re the girl from the Gazette. Dana phoned and told me you were on your way.”

  “Oh, right.” My cheeks heated. He’d flustered me. Of course they knew each other. The way these two looked, they were probably dating.

  “Just let me put the weights away,” he said, “and then we can go talk.”

  I looked at the selection of dumbbells around his feet, the lightest one probably forty pounds. Feeling stupid at my earlier retort, I didn’t want to stand around, watching him.

  “Let me give you a hand.”

  A laugh bubbled up from his throat, right up until the point I bent and picked up one of the weights, one handed. I lifted the dumbbell and stacked it back in the rack and turned to find him staring at me.

  I stared back. “What?”

  “You got some muscles hidden under there?”

  I realized what I’d done.

  “Yoga,” I told him in a rush. “Builds up some amazing strength. Nothing like using your whole body as a weight.”

  Flynn studied me again with that intense stare. His eyes had the sort of clarity I’d expect to find in a glacial pool or in the sea of somewhere tropical and untouched.

  He nodded, but his eyes were narrowed, as though he were agreeing with me but thinking something else. “Maybe I’ll have to give it a go then.”

  I laughed, a high-pitched titter, and cringed at the sound. “You should,” I said, hoping he wasn’t going to ask me for lessons. Other than a brief fad last year doing Bikram yoga—where I’d been stuck in a room with thirty other people to sweat out fat and toxins—I didn’t know anything about it.

  He tilted his chin toward me. “Look, give me five minutes to shower and change, and I’ll meet you outside. Then you can grill me.”

  “Sure.”

  I left the remainder of the weights where they were.

  I sat at a picnic table set in the small courtyard in front of the gym. My hands rested on the table, and I absently picked at the dry skin around my nails. Weirdly, I was looking forward to being in Flynn’s presence again. While the jock persona did nothing for me, something about him had sparked my interest. At least he hadn’t attempted to shake my hand or touch me in any way, and for that I was grateful. Normally, I avoided contact with other people, but today’s multiple introductions had left me open.

  I lifted my head to find Flynn striding across the courtyard toward me. His hair was still damp from the shower, making it a shade darker. With his hair being so short, I was sure it would have the texture of velvet if I ran my hand across his head. I shook the thought away; I’d just been relieved that he’d made no attempt to touch me, I certainly shouldn’t be thinking about touching him.

  “Hey,” he said as he slid onto the bench opposite me. “I just realized you never told me your name.”

  “Elizabeth.” I was certain the extended hand would come and I’d see something I didn’t want to. Miraculously, it didn’t.

  “Elizabeth ...” He seemed to mull it over. “Pretty.”

  “Thanks.” I tilted my head. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Only the ones who have pretty names.”

  I cocked my eyebrows. “Puh ... lease. Anyway, everyone calls me Beth.”

  He grinned and folded his arms on the table. “Sorry, can’t help myself. So how come you’re here interviewing me, Beth? Shouldn’t you be hanging out with other freshers and getting settled in?”

  “I’m not really into the socializing thing. I prefer work.”

  “You know what they say about all work ...?”

  “Are you able to say anything that isn’t a cliché?”

  He held his hands up in surrender and laughed, a full-belly laugh that made me want to laugh with him. “Okay, okay. I was just messing with you. So if you’re so focused on your studies, don’t you think you should ask me some questions?”

  “Actually, I should probably be honest. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to ask you. I don’t know anything about the swim team.”

  He ran a hand across the top of his drying head. “That’s Dana for you. She likes to throw people in at the deep end, see what sort of stuff they’re made of.”

  “See if they sink or swim?” I said.

  He laughed again. “Now who’s talking in clichés?”

  I grinned and went back to picking the skin on my nails. I looked back up at him. “So you guys know each other well?”

  “We’re both from Sage Springs, so yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  “Really well?” I probed.

  His head jerked back, his eyebrows knitting in the middle. “Oh, man, no. She’s more like the big sister I never wanted.”

  “Oh, she’s older than you then?” I remembered the glimpse I’d gotten from her as she shook my hand, that of the older man with the salt and pepper hair. I didn’t normally see anything too far ahead—months or days as opposed to years, so perhaps I should have been more aware that Flynn wouldn’t be Dana’s type either.

  “Yeah, she’s in her final year.”

  “And you’re ...?”

  “In my second,” he said slowly, as if I should have already either known or figured it out. Okay, that made him nineteen. Not quite so intimidating. I felt like I’d asked far too many questions around his personal life. If I didn’t switch the topic, he was going to get the wrong idea.

  I fished in my bag and pulled out my hardback notepad and pen.

  Flynn filled me in on everything happening with the swim team—upcoming races and training schedules. I diligently scribbled down all the information he fed me, while sneaking glances at his face. He seemed to come alive when he spoke of his time in the pool, of lap-times and formations. His hands spoke for him, gesturing to highlight some particular fast time or stroke.

  Just as I was writing down his final thought about which other college teams were the ones to beat, his hands dropped to the table. He folded his arms in front of him and leaned forward, his chest resting against well-muscled forearms.

  “So tell me about you, Beth. What brings you to Sage Springs?”

  His direct question caught me off guard, and I glanced up from my notebook.

  “Errr ... college?”

&nbs
p; “Yeah, I think I figured that one out for myself. I meant why Sage Springs? You don’t strike me as a small town girl.”

  I cleared my throat. “I’m not. I’m from Los Angeles. West Hollywood, to be exact.”

  “Daughter of a film star?”

  No, a vampire.

  “Not quite.” I looked down at my hands again, self-conscious, the heat rising in my face.

  “Only child, though. I can tell.”

  Something about the comment jarred me, and my head snapped back up again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugged. “You just have that ‘single-child’ vibe.”

  “Why?”

  He must have realized he’d pissed me off, because he sat back and raised both hands in a ‘surrender’ gesture. But I wasn’t going to let him get away that easily.

  “So what about you? I suppose you come from a family of six—after all, I’m guessing there isn’t a whole lot else to do around here.”

  He flashed me a grin, showing off his straight white teeth and the dimple in his left cheek. “Nah, takes one to know one.”

  I felt my defensive posture relax, my shoulders sinking. “Oh ... Oh right. You’re an only child as well.”

  “So I was right then?”

  “Yeah. I guess you were.”

  I’ve never been comfortable with people asking about my background. The story I’ve told so many times about my dad’s condition always felt false on my tongue. I’m a terrible liar.

  I scooped up my notepad and pen and smiled brightly at him. “Well, I think I’ve got everything. Thanks so much for making things easy for me.”

  A trace of confusion rippled across his handsome features, but he didn’t argue with me. “Okay, no problem.” We both stood, and he held out his hand to me, the gesture I’d been trying to avoid this whole time. I hesitated, trying to figure out which would be worse, seeing something secret to him or being rude enough to ignore the handshake. A flash of inspiration hit me and I held out my pen.

  “This is Dana’s. If you see her, could you give it back?”

  Again, I’d thrown him, but his fingers closed around the pen. “Uh, sure.”