by Karen Ranney
Although there were artificial blood drinks, the vampires had blood clubs that were similar to nightclubs and very popular. The only price of admission was to bare your neck. Why buy the stuff with all the preservatives when you could get the organic version?
Some vampires had relationships with humans, like Maddock with his mistress. Nothing like double duty as a bed partner and a meal.
But to keep humans strictly for the purposes of, well, eating them, was illegal. The Green Book specifically stated that human beings were a separate species, neither dominant nor submissive to those of the Frater Cruentus, a fancy name for vampires. To do so would be to make him subject to the judgment of the Council. No vampire would be stupid enough to do that.
Even Maddock.
But whenever you regulate something or forbid it, it only becomes more exciting.
I didn’t doubt that Maddock and most of his peers were well fed and from humans. I just didn’t know how.
“Where did you look?”
“Everywhere,” he said. “They’re not at his houses.”
“Houses?”
“He’s got seven between here and Trenton.”
The man was probably as wealthy as Dan.
“How many houses do you have?”
He only gave me a look. Evidently, that was classified information. Either that, or he’d sunk all his pennies into the castle. I was betting on door number two.
“Where do you think they are?” I was hoping he wouldn’t say dead. Even being a vampire was better than being dead. Where there’s life there’s hope, right? Or maybe they’re seeing eternity as the priest described it at the VRC.
“I don’t know. Nobody knows. We’ve looked in all the places Maddock might have hidden them.”
“Who’s we?”
“Friends,” he said. “Interested parties.”
“Not the police?”
He shook his head. “All the missing are over twenty-one. They have the right to vanish and there’s no hint of foul play.”
“Except your sister wasn’t the type to just vanish,” I said.
His eyes got that predatory look again.
“My sister could be a flake sometimes, Marcie, but she wouldn’t have disappeared like that. Not without a word.”
I didn’t know Nancy, but I did know Maddock.
I only nodded again.
Although I’d asked Santa for a sibling, my mother always made a noise deep in her throat and said, “Ain’t no way, Marcie.” I didn’t know what it was like to have a brother or a sister, to either be responsible for them or to have someone have my back. Maybe it’s a good thing that I didn’t have someone to worry about now.
“All we can do is keep looking. Keep up the database. There aren’t that many disappearing that the cops notice, but we do.”
“Now you’re going to tell me you have a Facebook page.”
He smiled. “Nancy does.”
“Maybe you should think about it. Something like The San Antonio Vanished.”
“It’s an idea. You want to do the target practice?”
He was less subtle than I when it came to changing the subject, but probably more determined. I knew there wasn’t anything else to learn about Nancy and the others, at least not now.
I nodded again. I know only two things about guns: they can kill you and they’re expensive. But as for models, firing power, and kinds of bullets, you can put everything I know into a thimble and still have room for an elephant to swim.
Dan bent and opened another case. The door swung down, revealing an array of weapons.
"Are you a good shot?" I asked after he had given me the safety lecture and introduced me to a black gun that scared the bejesus out of me.
Remember, I’m not a badass. Okay, I may be getting closer with each day I’m a vampire, but I still have a great deal of respect for something that can kill you with such brutal efficiency. I made mental notes as he continued to speak. I only knew one thing he mentioned: don't ever point a gun at someone unless you intend to use it.
The second part of the lecture was how to stand and how to hold my gun. Oh, and don’t tilt your head and turn the gun sideways like some street punk. They can never hit anything and attitude doesn’t count for diddly squat in a gunfight.
"This is the police method," he said, standing behind me and guiding my arms with his.
In a matter of moments, my cheeks were flushed. He was standing entirely too close. At least there were a few layers of clothes between us this time. My bare butt wasn’t backing up to him like a playful puppy. Rub me, baby. Pet me, honey.
Seriously, he needed to move away or I would be overwhelmed by my baser impulses.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Normal with sex, please
A woman emerged out of the shadows, bringing Dan a locked gray metal box.
She smiled.
He smiled.
The gleam in his eye was the same any man got when he appreciated the view. She was tall, Swedish looking, buxom, and had legs that went to Australia.
I hated her on sight.
Okay, maybe I didn't hate her, but I was jealous. I wanted either the traffic stopping face or the build or the smile she shared equally with Dan and me. I shouldn't be entertaining any kind of ideas about Dan, proprietary or otherwise. He was my host. And I didn't even want that.
When I felt foolish two things happened. I wanted to kick myself for being stupid and I also felt vulnerable, like there was a neon arrow on my forehead. Look at the dumb bunny.
I wanted to climb outside my skin, run away and inhabit somebody else for a little while. Someone who knew what to say, wasn't stupidly emotional, and who didn't feel possessive about a man she hadn’t known weeks earlier.
What right did I have to feel jealous? None. Feeling that way was just plain stupid.
Wanting him to kiss me was even sillier.
I hadn’t been virginal for a very long time. I didn’t have that many lovers, but I had some. I didn’t regret Bill, because he was a learning experience. I knew more about myself after having lived with Bill. I’ll never live with another guy again. The piece of paper means something to me.
I wanted the white picket fence, dammit. I wanted the two point three children and a husband with a good job. I wanted to worry about play dates and getting into a good kindergarten and saving for my child’s college education. I wanted to sit on the porch and link my fingers with my husband’s and talk about when the kids were little and the camping trip to Lost Maples and the outings to Corpus.
It’s hard to be a regular housewife when you’re a vampire, verging on a Dirugu.
I wanted normal.
Normal with sex, please.
When I was with Bill I’d gone for months without having sex. We’d fallen into this weird habit of treating each other as if we were pals or buddies, but not romantically linked.
Maybe I should’ve figured out that something was wrong because both Bill and I were very careful to make sure people didn’t think we were married. We had both names taped inside our mailbox. We never represented ourselves to be a couple. In Texas, common-law marriage meant that you had to get a real divorce.
I wouldn't have been surprised if Bill cheated on me, but I don't think he did because he didn't seem all that interested in sex. On those rare occasions when I decided to listen to my libido and attempt to seduce him, my batting average wasn't all that good. Half the time he would say he was tired. The other times when I succeeded in getting him into the mood I wondered why I bothered.
Let's just say the earth didn’t move.
He did last a long time, I will say that. Sometimes, too long. After awhile, if you aren’t, well, engaged, sex becomes tedious. Here I was, thinking of the chores I had to do the next day or the presentation I was giving to the national board the following week and Bill was still going strong, in and out, huff and puff.
Once, God help me, I even asked him, “Are you finished yet?”
S
o maybe I had myself to blame for the lack of romance in our relationship.
Than what was wrong with me now? Was it becoming a Dirugu? Had I been infused with some sort of super sex hormone?
I was positively brimming with enthusiasm.
When Dan stood behind me and held my arms with his, I felt every inch of his body. Felt it and responded to it.
If the Swedish goddess came back into the room, I would've flicked my fingers at her. Or sent her a thought to go away and not bother us for an hour or two. She wasn’t anywhere in sight and I had to restrain myself from twitching my derrière a little, or moving backward into his embrace.
When Dan leaned forward and gave me instructions, his breath caressed my cheek.
My nipples went erect.
A soft moan escaped me.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
His voice had gotten deeper in the last few minutes. Or I was hearing things. Maybe I was feeling things, too, because I could swear there was a bulge behind me, one that enticed me to move closer. I stood my ground, but it was difficult.
I wanted him. I wanted him to touch me, everywhere. I wanted him to kiss me. Soft, hard, rough, gentle, slow, fast, it didn't matter. I wanted to turn, link my arms around his neck, stand on tiptoe and lean into him, become so close that nothing, not even a thought, could separate us.
Dan was immune to me compelling him. Otherwise, I might have beguiled him, or mesmerized him, or just plain commanded him.
His left arm came around my waist and pulled me back.
I moaned again.
He didn't speak this time, only bent his head and nuzzled behind my ear.
His breath was faster now. His hand was flat against my midriff, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast.
My body was singing hosannas. My mind was urging caution. Guess who was winning?
He placed a soft kiss on my neck. I tilted my head to make it easier for him. At the same time I pressed back into his embrace.
Fill me. Use me. I desperately wanted him to touch me. Stroke my skin. Kiss me everywhere. Something hot and slow traveled through my blood like cayenne lust.
His fingers caressed the backs of my hands. His arms pressed against mine. I could feel his breath on my neck now, as if he knew that was one erogenous zone that made me tremble.
I closed my eyes and savored.
"How can you hit the target when you have your eyes closed?"
His voice had gotten warmer, a black ribbon he wound around me. I wanted to lean my head back, allowing him to support me as I melted into his arms.
I’d never felt like this with anyone. As if I wanted to become part of him, lose myself in another creature. If he moved away, I’d cry. The loss of him would be so horrible that I would never be the same.
How stupid was I?
I blinked open my eyes and turn my head just a little. His smile had disappeared. He might've been a vampire at that moment, his eyes feasting on my carotid artery.
I should be afraid, couched in ignorance about Dan as I was.
"Who are you?" I asked softly. "What are you?"
"Your destiny?"
He wasn't a shape shifter. Nor was he a witch or vampire. He was something else, special, unique, and probably wholly human.
Probably.
For his sake, he should run, far and fast. I had no idea if I could hurt him in the thrall of lust. Would I bite him? I hadn't bitten Maddock, that I knew of. If I had, he deserved it.
Destiny? No, Dan wasn't my destiny. Nor was I his. But when my hands dropped and I placed the gun on the counter before me, time elongated and seemed to stand still. When he turned me in his arms, I went willingly, expectantly. His hands framed my face, his thumbs tilting up my chin.
I watched as his face lowered, wanted to warn him about the danger. I hadn't practiced often, but I knew if I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth near the base of my front teeth, my fangs would snick into place. If I cut him, would the taste of his blood turn me into a ravening beast? Would I lick his lips and wish for an open wound? Would I become more vampire than Marcie?
I didn’t want to take the chance with Dan.
He didn't give me the opportunity to say no. But unlike Maddock’s coercion, this was one of gentleness and a certain sweetness. His fingers threaded through my hair as he smiled down at me. He didn't say a word as his lips lowered to my mouth. He didn't try to convince me or seduce me. He only smiled and I was his.
Kissing Dan was like entering a perfumed room, one shrouded in shadows and promising the revelation of treasures. A space in my chest seemed to open and be instantly filled with gasping wonder. My body heated, warming from the inside out. My breasts plumped, the nipples hardening.
I slowly reached up, my hands skimming up his shirt, feeling all the muscles covered so lovingly with one hundred percent cotton.
Lucky fabric.
My fingers pressed against his throat before reaching behind his neck.
A curious pinging was beginning inside me, as if all the cells of my body, up until now in stasis from being a vampire, were coming alive and shouting their need to be acknowledged. Life pulsating and demanding. My heart beat faster. My breath accelerated. Everything in me craved him, desired him, and needed him.
His lips were full and soft, coaxing with an expertise against which I had no defense. His tongue bathed my lower lip, tasted my tongue, darted in then out, making me open my mouth wider, the better to be vanquished.
One hand cupped my breast and I gasped at the sensation, so sensitive as to be almost painful.
Then he stepped back and I was suddenly alone, adrift and abandoned. I blinked open my eyes.
“Forgive me,” he said, his look intent.
Why had he apologized? Did he expect me to do so as well? I wasn’t going to.
I’d worried that Maddock had damaged me, that I’d never be able to feel close to another man without being afraid. Maddock had no part in what was between us. Nothing he’d done could affect this heat or discourage this need.
I looked away, down at the floor, over my shoulder at the target at the far wall.
He was still too close. A zone of heat traveled between us.
I wanted to be taken. On the floor, against the wall. In full view of the beautiful Swedish blonde. I didn't care. My baser self was rising up and taking over what was left of my sanity.
Stretching out my hand, my fingertips touched his shirt. Then I was in his arms again and his mouth was on mine.
I felt the earth move. No, that was me. Dan was lifting me, then placing me on the cold concrete floor. A realization I had for a millisecond before he was sliding his hand beneath my top, working his magic over my bra until it loosened. The moment he cupped my breast, I lost all sense of place.
I only felt.
I was a creature of touch and warmth, nerve endings and pleasure points. I’d never known that my elbows were so sensitive or that a kiss on my temple could make me smile.
How quickly I undressed, the feat accomplished while being kissed into oblivion. I remember thinking, in a far off way as if my conscience had been silenced by a feather pillow, that anyone could come into the firing range and see us.
I didn’t care.
My fingertips became swords as I gripped Dan’s bare back. My breaths were pants. My blood was heated to the point it felt as if it boiled through my veins.
When he entered me, the splintering bliss of that moment stopped everything: time, awareness, a sense of self. I was only a creature whose sole purpose was to mate, to feel, to drown in pleasure.
I surfaced long moments later, staring up at the ceiling and noting that someone had painted a night sky on it. A smiling moon leered down at me. Stars twinkled en mass, an effect that had me blinking a few times before I realized they were lights.
Holy gorgonzola, what had just happened?
Dan was still on me, a heavy weight but not a burden. I didn’t want him to move for a moment. I liked feelin
g the gallop of his heart against my chest and hearing the gradual slowing of his breath.
It made me feel alive, just like sex made me feel alive.
Maybe this was why vampires went after humans, to experience this sensation.
Dan propped himself up on his arms, staring down at me. I’d always felt self conscious about sex, the before period where you undressed and the after period where you apologized or explained.
The before period had spun past so quickly I didn’t remember getting my clothes off and I sure as hell hadn’t felt self conscious about it. Now, though, I was wondering if I needed to say something.
Dan spoke first. “Wow.”
I smiled. Yeah, that pretty much summed it up.
“Wow, yourself,” I said.
“Damn, Marcie.”
Yep, that’s exactly how I felt. I didn’t want him to move. I didn’t want to move. I felt so damn good that I was content to live the rest of my life on this patch of cold concrete.
Dan had other ideas. He reached out and snagged his shirt, rolled off me and put it on. His shorts - and I wasn’t all that surprised to note they were designer shorts - were hanging from a knob of one of the cabinets. His pants were on the floor at the other end of the booth.
I watched him dress, taking in the perfection of his body. I remembered my college courses in biology, how the female of the species picks the most likely candidate to sire her brood. He had to be the strongest of the applicants, the most attractive, the one guaranteed to survive and to produce offspring that would thrive.
As a female of my particular species, I’d picked damn well.
His skin was taut, the muscles of his legs, arms, and chest evidence that the man worked out. When he turned, I studied his backside. When he glanced back at me, I couldn’t help but smile even as I felt myself warm.
I’d never been caught admiring a man’s butt before.
I finally sat up, putting myself back together. My top hadn’t been removed, but my bra was curiously tangled beneath it. I found my pants beneath the gun cabinet and the remnants of my panties on top of the ledge.
