Rocked by a Vampire: Billionaire, Rock Stars, Vampires (Immortal Hearts of San Francisco Book 3)

by Susan Griscom

  “I think maybe we should start over,” I said softly and stuck my hands in my pockets to keep them from reaching out to touch the soft, pink tips of the blonde strands that dipped into her cleavage.

  “How, when you can’t seem to keep your hands and lips off me whenever we’re alone together?”

  “I think maybe working on perfecting the tone and control of your voice will help, give us something other than skin to focus on. I’m willing to try. Are you?”

  She stood, silently, sucking on her bottom lip and staring at her pink toenails. The woman loved color. Mostly pink though from what I’d seen.

  “You won’t try to kiss me?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “You’ll keep your hands to yourself at all times whenever we’re alone?”

  “Yes,” I said, then quickly added, “I’ll try.” Her eyes shot to mine, and I could see myself in the emerald pools.

  “You won’t tell the others about this?”

  “No. Not if you don’t wish it.”

  Her chest puffed up then deflated again as she exhaled a large breath as if she’d been holding it for several minutes. “Okay,” she said.

  “Good.”

  “Now what?”

  “Meet me down in the studio in an hour.”

  “I can’t. Not tonight. I spent all day packing and moving my stuff. I’m exhausted. I need to sleep.” I studied her face for a few seconds, the puffy bags under her eyes indicative of her statement.

  “Okay. We’ll wait until tomorrow night. You’ll need to adjust your sleeping pattern.”

  “Why me?”

  “What?” Jesus, now I was using that annoying word.

  “Why can’t you adjust your sleeping pattern? Why do I have to adjust mine?”

  I shrugged and raked my hand through my hair. She wanted to be difficult. Again.

  “I have to work during the day, and don’t finish until three. I need to sleep at night. You don’t work, so you should change your routine.”

  I sighed. “Very well.” I turned and strolled out of her room.

  “Wait!” she called. I stopped walking and glanced over my shoulder at her. “What time, then?”

  I smiled. Good. I, at least, had her interest.

  “Four o’clock.” That still gave me plenty of resting time. I dematerialized this time instead of walking. I needed to get away from her before I went back on my word. Tomorrow would be a test of wills for sure.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Vanessa

  I glanced at myself in the mirror. Oh, shit! What was I wearing? A purple-and-white-striped tank top with flowery lime-green shorts? I just about passed out from embarrassment. Lane really must think I’m a piece of work. What was I going to do tomorrow? I ripped off the stupid mismatched outfit and collapsed on the bed. Lane’s presence was exhausting. Without even touching me, he did things to my body that I’d never thought possible. He thought I had a good voice, though. I smiled at that. Maybe he had a hearing problem. No, he said ‘unique voice.’ What did that mean? I didn’t have a clue, but the idea that he wanted to help me develop it sounded intriguing. I’d always wished I could sing. But I’d never thought I was good enough. And when I’d lost the part in my high school musical for the lead in West Side Story, well, that had devastated me. Killed all my hopes and dreams of ever singing in front of someone, let alone an auditorium full of strangers. It just confirmed my inability in my mind and I never sang in front of anyone again.

  Now, I’d be singing tomorrow afternoon in front of Lane. How did I get myself into these things? Maybe I could cast some sort of spell and make him think I really could sing. Except that would just make him hate me more if he ever found out. Plus, he’d already heard me and thought I was good. Or unique. I felt sick. That was it. Maybe I could just tell him I was sick and I couldn’t sing. That would only solve things for a day or two, though. After that, he’d figure out I was stalling.

  I closed my eyes, but when I did, I saw Lane standing in front of me, laughing and covering his ears with his hands. My body shook, and sweat broke out on my upper lip and forehead. I jumped up and rushed to the toilet, losing every bit of the Beef Wellington I’d eaten earlier, along with the delicious red wine. Definitely not delicious the second time around.

  I crawled back to the bed and lay face down, not caring that I was only in my underwear.

  I opened my eyes to darkness, cold with no covers. It was the middle of summer, and the vampires had the air conditioning on full blast. The foul taste in my mouth from vomiting was thick and gross. My stomach no longer felt queasy, so I headed to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.

  With my mouth refreshed, I padded my way back to bed in the dark and huddled under the covers. I reached for my phone, glancing at it quickly, hoping for several more hours before I had to get up.

  The white 8:03, Friday, on the face of my phone jolted me awake as if I’d been looking at a time bomb. I worked from home, one of the perks of my profession, but I still had to check in every day at eight in the morning. As long as I had internet, I could work anywhere.

  Except I’d recently royally screwed up at work. I was late turning in the last two projects because I’d spent so much time packing and running errands to move. My boss hadn’t been happy about it. Now, being late just added more fuel to the fire.

  I jumped out of bed and rifled through my suitcase for my laptop. I couldn’t remember which one I’d stuck it in. Panic took hold and I gulped down the urge to cry. If I lost my job, then I’d never be able to afford my apartment. And finding another as cushy and well paying as this one would be extremely difficult. Not to mention the stigma of being fired. This business was tough, and word got out quickly about who had been canned and why. I scrambled, tossing clothing all over the floor. I’d checked two suitcases and nothing. I opened the top to the third and yanked out some clothes, tossing them on the floor. I let out a huge sigh of relief when I saw my laptop. All my clothes now scattered over the floor, I grabbed my computer, flipped open the lid, and sank back down in the middle of the bed, the laptop sitting between my legs. The time at the bottom right-hand corner said 8:05. I was most definitely late. I still had to set up the wireless connection. I stared at the choices. I had no clue which one to pick or even if there was a password.

  I was in luck when I saw The Lost Boys of SF as one of the choices in the list of five wireless connections available. And, of course, it was password protected. Knowing how the vamps were about their security, I figured it would be a tough one, especially since they’d used such an obvious name.

  I jumped out of bed and threw on the same ugly clothes I’d had on last night when Lane had surprised me. With my laptop under my arm, I ran down the stairs toward the kitchen, hoping Ari or one of the other servants would be up and would know the password.

  I entered the breakfast nook as they called it. In actuality, it was a large space with a big, wooden table in the center. Not the same room they ate dinner in, but one with its own refrigerator, counter, and sink. The main kitchen where the servants worked, preparing the meals was just behind the closed door at the back wall.

  I let out a heavy sigh, relieved to see Ari sitting at the table drinking a glass of orange juice.

  “Ari, I’m in desperate need of the internet password.” I sat across from him and flipped up the lid to my laptop. The small 8:15 in the corner glared at me with the words “You’re Fired!” coming from it.

  “VampsSuck4Ever, with the number 4 and the v, s and e capped,” he said.

  I laughed. “Really? That’s it? I thought it would be something really tough to crack.”

  “Well, I guess the guys don’t think most people would think to use anything that has to do with vampires as an internet password.”

  “Good point. Thanks,” I said and typed in the letters and number. I pulled up my work site and typed in my password, logging in a little over fifteen minutes late. I wasn’t sure how John, my boss, would respond to this.
He’d never threatened to fire me. Even when I’d screwed up, but he hadn’t exactly been pleased with me lately either. Maybe I’d get lucky and he’d only dock my pay. It really wasn’t getting docked for pay that bothered me. It was the principal of being on time. I was never late. I always logged in a few minutes early. Right after I signed in, I received an internal company email. Shit. It was from John. I hovered the mouse over the email; fearing the worst, I hesitated to open it. But he knew I was online since I’d just signed in. I clicked the button and opened the email.

  Vanessa,

  Hey, hope everything is okay. I know you were moving, so don’t worry about signing in late today. Let me know if you need anything.

  John.

  I typed back.

  Thanks, John, and I am so sorry about being late. I’m online now and will work late to make up the fifteen minutes. I promise I won’t let it happen again.

  He responded.

  I’m surprised you didn’t ask for the day off. If you need it, you got it.

  He wasn’t mad? He didn’t seem angry at all. I thought about his offer. I should have asked for the day off, but I’d been afraid to since my screw-up. The idea of going back to bed was heavy on my mind. Then Ari shoved a glass of something red in front of me. I looked up at him. “What’s that?”

  “Tomato juice, vodka, a little salt, and pepper. I added some Worcestershire sauce and a pinch of Tabasco for a little extra kick.” He winked.

  “I don’t have a hangover.”

  He shrugged. “You look like you do.”

  “Great,” I mumbled.

  “Nice outfit,” he smirked.

  I glanced down at the crazy color and pattern combination. Fuck. Somebody just kill me now. Please. I rolled my eyes as my stomach grumbled.

  “What I do need is some food.” Especially since I’d lost my entire dinner right before I fell asleep, but I wasn’t going to mention that to Ari. Then he’d think I had been drunk or ask why I’d gotten sick. That was TMI for him or anyone as far as I was concerned.

  “Help yourself. There are eggs in the fridge or anything you want. Just look around. I’m sure you’ll find something you like. Or, you can have the cook fix you something. As long as you’re staying here, you might as well take advantage of some pampering.”

  “You know, Ari, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

  He chuckled. “Cian and Lane would want you to be comfortable. They’re good guys. Even though you don’t have a hangover, that Bloody Mary will still help fix whatever else might be wrong. If anything.”

  I mulled that over and thought, well, why not? I typed a message back to John.

  Hi, John,

  If you don’t mind, I think I will take you up on that offer to take the day off. I still have a ton of unpacking to do. Thanks for the suggestion.

  I hit send and picked up the drink. Oddly enough, right after the first sip, I did feel better. Taking the day off was smart. I had plenty of stuff to do, and gearing up for what could turn out to be a great disaster this afternoon with Lane would take some preparation.

  John messaged back.

  No problem. Have a nice weekend, and I’ll talk to you on Monday.

  That’s right, it was Friday. I leaned back in my seat and nursed the drink. Ari stood and left the room, but quickly returned.

  “I asked the cook to fix you something to eat,” he said and sat back down, studying his phone.

  Something turned out to be a large stack of blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, and a big bowl of fresh-sliced peaches. Enough food for a small army, and I was super glad to see Josh stroll into the room just in time to help eat it all. Ari did his share of eating, too, so I had to figure he’d been hungry and not just being kind; though I still thought it was super sweet that he’d ordered enough for all of us humans.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lane

  My phone beeped, and I reach for it. It was the alarm I’d set for three in the afternoon. I’d finally fallen asleep around eight this morning after lying awake in my bed or pacing the length of my room most of the night and early morning, thinking about the witch. I’d spent a few hours on a song I thought would be great for her to sing, and after that, I’d been too hyped up on the thought of this new endeavor with her, going over the runs and phrases of the song in my head over and over again.

  Six hours of sleep was plenty for me. I had an hour before my session with Vanessa—if she even showed up. I’d had a long conversation in my head about that last night. I’d even made a bet with myself that she wouldn’t. If she did, I’d work extra hard to help her, and put some time into finishing my own song. If she didn’t show, well, then, I really had nothing to lose.

  After showering, I took the brush to my wet hair, thought about using the hairdryer, but then reconsidered. If I showed up with damp hair, she’d know I’d taken a shower. Then I thought that maybe that wasn’t the best thing either because then she might think I’d showered for her benefit. Which I had, but did I want her to know that? Fuck it. I was definitely overthinking this. I didn’t feel like standing there for ten minutes blowing the fuck out of my hair, so I just let it dry on its own.

  I entered the studio and turned on the lights. I was fairly certain that Cian and the rest of the guys were still sleeping, so I didn’t need to worry about them coming in. I’d told Vanessa I wouldn’t say anything to them, but I was hoping that after a few sessions with me, she’d change her mind. A female backup singer or guest appearance on Saturday nights would be a nice change. It’d been years since we’d altered anything with the band and our performances.

  I sat down at the piano and fleshed out a bit of an arrangement I thought would be a good start for V.

  V. I sighed. I liked the short nickname. It gave me an entirely different perspective of who Vanessa really was. A witch, yes. But she’d never done anything harmful to any of us, except that time she’d taken away my ability to swallow just to make a goddamn point. And I had to admit, I’d deserved it after what I’d said, calling her craft second-rate. I’d really had no idea her powers were so strong. But after that, I’d always been a bit more cautious of what I said around her. Well, not entirely. Let’s not go overboard there. I enjoyed annoying the shit out of her. Seeing her nose wrinkle each time I pissed her off was something I looked forward to. I never stopped beleaguering her and giving her a difficult time, though I surely would love to give her a hard time someday.

  I played the song, mixing up some of the notes I thought would showcase her unique sound. It was a great rock and roll song and I had a good feeling that V would be able to pull it off and make it her own. I keyed the last part of the chorus when I heard her voice.

  “That was an interesting rendition of What About Love?” She recognized the tune. Impressive. Especially the way I’d been playing it. That was a good sign.

  “You know the song?”

  “Of course. Who doesn’t? But I have to admit, if Heart wasn’t one of my favorite rock bands, I might not have recognized it with all the changes you implemented.”

  I shrugged. “Good. I think it would be a great song for you to work on. With the changes I made, it will make you shine. Can you read music at all?” I smiled at her, hoping she said yes because that would make things much easier. I didn’t stand. I stayed put on the stool I’d been perched on. I’d promised to keep my hands off her, so the best way to do that was to just keep my distance. And that was going to take a lot of effort considering the skimpy, navy shorts she wore that hugged her body and showed off the delicious-looking bubbled curve and the crease where the cheeks of her ass met her thighs—so silky and…lickable.

  “I took piano lessons when I was a kid. I used to play in high school.”

  “I set up the mic for you. You might need to adjust it for height since I only took a guess.”

  She walked over to the microphone I’d set in the middle of the platform, her long locks swaying with each step. She stood and faced the mic, brushing one
of her pink-tipped curls to her back. With her mouth directly in front of the device, she glanced over at me. Good guess on the height. I gave myself an imaginary pat on the back.

  “I’ve never sung into a microphone before. Are you sure you want me to do this?”

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation. “You know the song, you said so yourself. The words are right there on the stand beside you in case you need them. There’s a six bar intro before you begin to sing. Each bar is four beats.” Look at the sheet music and you’ll see what I mean. She eyed the sheet on the stand. “See what I’m talking about?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay. I’ll play the intro and then you’ll come in with ‘I’ve been lonely...’ Just use your voice the way it feels natural to you, and we’ll see what we have.”

  I played the intro to the song and she stood, looking at the sheet music. When I got to the spot where she was supposed to start singing, she shook her head and glanced at me, a sheepish smile on her face. “Sorry. I…wasn’t ready.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll start again.”

  I played the intro again, and after the sixth bar, she put her hand to her forehead then quickly removed it. “This is a mistake. I can’t do this.” She waved her arm once through the air toward me as she walked away from the microphone toward the door. She was leaving.

  I was on my feet in a millisecond, standing in front of her, my hands on her shoulders. I gulped, realizing I was touching her, but I didn’t budge. She was about to walk out, and I didn’t want to win that bet I’d made with myself. I had to do something to convince her to try this because I needed to hear her sing. “You can do this. Your voice…believe me when I tell you, V…” Her brows furrowed, but her eyes sparkled at the use of the nickname I’d only ever heard Maggie use. “Yesterday when I heard you singing, it was…your voice carried across the room like a soft spring breeze blowing sweetly across my face and flowing into my soul. It touched me inside. Here.” I splayed my hand over my heart, and those sparkling pools of emerald widened with surprise. “It elevated me to heights as high as the stars and made my blood tingle. And I know, I swear I know, other people will be touched the exact same way. I believe it. Please, you have to trust me on this.” I hadn’t wanted to beg or come across so passionate, but she needed to understand just how special her voice was. Or would be after I finished showing her how to use it.