Gaston threw open the doors and strode into the room.
“Stay two steps behind me,” Ethan whispered as he crossed the threshold.
She was about to protest that Jane Anderson stayed behind no man, but the sight of the Council froze her to the spot.
Four men in black robes sat atop a raised platform in gold and gem-encrusted thrones. Jane squinted, trying to determine the types of jewels and whether or not they were real. If they were, this room alone would be worth a fortune.
The men looked old as the gods themselves, with shoulder-length, scraggly hair and skin so paper-thin, she could have torn it with a fingernail—and Jane always got the “squoval” when she had a manicure. Stilettos belonged on the feet, not the hands.
“I thought vampires didn’t age.”
“These guys don’t get out much. With little interaction in the modern world, they’ve lost touch with most of their human traits.” Ethan grabbed her hand, tugging her into the room, and his touch sent another jolt through her body. They stopped in the middle of the room, and he released her, while Gaston joined a group of vampires along the wall.
Gas lamps enclosed in glass cases provided the only light in the room, but Jane could see just fine—another plus to this vampire business. The windows lining the right side of the room were all equipped with the same light-blocking mechanism as the sitting-room window, and the long, rectangular shape of the room made it look like it might have been a grand ballroom back in the day.
Upon closer inspection, the vampire Council didn’t seem quite so elderly. More like scary…and incredibly bored. “Holy shit, Edward. You didn’t tell me we were coming to meet the Volturi.”
“Shh…”
A door opened behind the dais, and a man who could only be the Magistrate drifted in. He wore the same black robes as the Council members, and his movements were so fluid, he seemed to float above the floor. His long, dark hair was woven into dreads, making him look like Idris Elba in that Thor movie, but he had a menacing glint in his eyes and crackling power in his aura that screamed authority. With his strong jaw and piercing hazel eyes, he was sexy as all get-out, but not someone Jane wanted to piss off.
Idris sank into the center throne, and Jane waved. “Hey, guys. Nice to meet you.”
Every single one of those suckers leaned toward her, hissing—literally hissing—as they bared their fangs. She parked her hands on her hips and turned to Ethan. “Is this for real? Are they hissing?”
His nostrils flared for the umpteenth time tonight as his hands curled into fists. “You don’t address the Council without permission to speak.”
“You could have told me that beforehand. Nobody hisses at Ja—”
Ethan bared his fangs and hissed at her too.
Her mouth fell open. “Oh. My. Go— goat cheese pizza. Not you too.” She ran her tongue along her teeth. No fangs, but she refused to be out-hissed. She bared her blunt teeth and did her best angry cat impression. Then she turned to the Council and hissed at them for good measure. Jesus Christ. Hey, at least she could still swear in her head. She was stuck in the middle of a What We Do in the Shadows episode.
Ethan clapped his hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her from behind. “Apologies, Magistrate. She’s freshly turned and ornery as hell. I don’t quite have her under control yet.”
Control? Who did he think he was? She tried to protest, but he kept his hand pressed tightly against her mouth.
The Magistrate nodded. “You will apprise her of the laws and exert your control as her sire.”
“Yes, sir.”
The moment he released her, she whirled to face him. “Let’s get one thing straight, Eddie. You don’t control me. No one does. And why are there no women on this Council? Is this a patriarchy? Because I’m all about busting glass ceilings.”
Ethan growled low in his throat. “Permission to stake her, Your Honor?”
She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
“Enough.” The Magistrate had an I don’t get paid enough for this shit look on his face, so Jane clamped her mouth shut. She could totally feel for the guy. Her own bullshit meter didn’t go very high either. “You will recite the rules to receive your permit.”
Jane rattled off all the crap Ethan wanted her to memorize on their way over: She had to stay with her sire—ew, that word still didn’t sit right with her—at all times until she was licensed; she wasn’t allowed to bite anyone—not that she ever would…EVER—until she’d been properly trained, and a bunch of other nonsense about not leaving bite marks and only using her glamour responsibly.
This Council took all the fun out of being an undead creature of the night.
Ethan let out what sounded like a breath of relief when she was done…as if he’d actually been worried she’d fail the test. Please, Jane had never failed a test in her life. Not one she studied for, anyway.
When she was done, the Magistrate steepled his fingers and rested his elbows on the arms of his jewel-encrusted throne. “Very good. You will be tested for your biting license in three weeks.” He glanced at the man next to him. “Put her on the schedule.” He turned to address Ethan. “How did this pairing come about, and why has the mating mark not been reciprocated?”
Jane blinked. “Mating mark?”
Gaston snickered from his spot on the sidelines, and Ethan hung his head. “It was an accident, Your Honor.” Ethan lifted his gaze to Jane’s and looked away, ashamed.
“Umm…” Jane’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she could form words, which was probably a good thing. She didn’t want to engage in another hissing match. “Permission to speak?”
The Magistrate nodded.
She turned to Ethan. “What the hell is a mating mark? You said you marked me as a meal.”
“She’s unaware you’ve claimed her as your mate?” The Magistrate leaned forward, the boredom in his eyes morphing into curiosity. “Please explain.”
Ethan cast Gaston a help me out here glance, but his sire just laughed, shaking his head. He looked at Jane again before focusing on the Magistrate. “I…thought she was someone else when I turned her. I made a mistake.”
Jane tilted her head. “Which was the mistake? Turning me into a vampire or marking me as your mate?”
He pursed his lips, hesitating to answer. “Both.”
“Well, shit.” Her knees suddenly weak, she plopped onto the floor, sitting cross-legged and holding her head in her hands. It shouldn’t matter. She didn’t want to be his mate, and the vampire thing…what was done was done, but…
The fact that not only did he not want her, but he didn’t even want her to be a vampire, was like a knife—no, like a stake—to her heart. She shouldn’t have cared, and maybe it was the shock of this whole situation wearing off and her real emotions breaking through, but pressure mounted in the back of her eyes, and a sob attempted to bubble up her throat. Thankfully, she was so parched, the sob didn’t make it past her chest.
She flopped onto her back dramatically. “Go ahead and stake me. You heard the man; I’m a mistake. He doesn’t want me.”
“Come now, Jane. Let’s not be dramatic.” Gaston lifted her to her feet.
“You’re one to talk, Captain Jack.”
He laughed and pinched her cheek. “I like you.” He motioned Ethan over and wrapped an arm around both of them. “It’s true he thought you were someone else, but I distinctly remember him saying he didn’t care if you weren’t her right before he turned you.”
She stared at Ethan until he met her gaze. “Is that true?”
He held eye contact. “Yes.”
“So you don’t regret turning me into a vampire?”
“Well…” he began, but he jumped when Gaston pinched him. “Honestly? No, I don’t regret it. I find you…interesting.”
“Interesting? Like a science experiment?”
“Intriguing.”
She smiled, and the imaginary stake slip
ped from her chest. “I’ll take intriguing.”
“You wear it well,” Ethan said.
The Magistrate cleared his throat. “Now that your domestic dispute has been settled, the mark must either be removed or reciprocated.”
“Removed, please.” Jane stepped out of Gaston’s embrace. “I hardly know him.”
“I’d love to remove it.” Ethan’s hands curled into fists. “But I don’t even know how I put it on you. It just happened.”
“Interesting.” The Magistrate steepled his fingers again, drumming them together like he was amused. “Subconsciously applied marks are rare. Perhaps we should require it stays.”
“No, please.” Ethan pressed his palms together. “It was my mistake. I’ll take responsibility, but please don’t punish her. She deserves a choice.”
Her eyebrows shot up. Wow. Mr. Sexy Brooding Vampire had a heart.
“Very well.” The Magistrate rose to his feet and looked at Gaston. “I assume you are coherent enough to instruct him in mark removal?”
“Of course, Your Honor.” Gaston bowed as the Council filed out of the room, and then he whispered something in Ethan’s ear.
Ethan nodded and placed his hands on either side of Jane’s head. Her skin tingled, and electricity shot through her core, gathering below her navel. His eyes turned stormy, like a sea at night, and her knees wobbled. This guy was sex on a stick.
Something seemed to snap inside her; the cord that had been tugging her toward him was severed, leaving a small, hollow space in her heart. She rubbed at the spot where she felt the discomfort, and he dropped his arms to his sides, stepping back and sweeping his gaze over her.
“It’s done.” Something she wanted to call regret flashed briefly in his eyes.
She wanted to call it regret because that was the only name she could find for her own emotions at the moment. Why on Earth would she feel that way? Being tied down to a man was the last thing she wanted, yet she already missed the connection to him. You’re going cuckoo, Jane. Woman up.
“Good job, my friend.” Gaston patted him on the back. “Now, any emotions you felt for each other that were fabricated by the mark will cease.”
“Thank the l—lady next door. Every time he touched me, I wanted to rip his clothes off. That’ll go away now?”
Surprise widened Ethan’s eyes, and a bit of a blush reddened his cheeks. How cute. Wait a minute. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling attraction to him anymore.
Gaston chuckled. “Time will tell.”
“Do you have a driver’s license?” Ethan asked. “I need to fill out the paperwork to register you.”
“I’m capable of filling it out myself.”
He shook his head. “It has to be completed by the sire.”
“Ew.” She wrinkled her nose.
He rolled his eyes. “By the person who turned you.”
“Here. It’s from Texas, but it’ll have to do.” She tugged the license from her pocket, handing it to him, and he shuffled into the next room.
“So.” She turned to Gaston. “Who did he think I was when he turned me?”
Gaston smiled sadly and shook his head. “The poor sap thought you were his dead fiancée reincarnated. I told him you were your own woman, but he wanted you to be her so badly.”
Poor guy. “No wonder he’s disappointed. What happened to her?”
“That’s his story to tell, I’m afraid.” He leaned in closer. “Honestly, I don’t remember all the details. He can be quite the…what’s the phrase? Drama queen.”
Jane giggled and then bit her lip as she caught a glimpse of Ethan through the doorway. He leaned over a desk, filling out a form, and she swept her gaze to his backside, admiring the way his jeans hugged his muscular thighs.
“You still find yourself attracted to him, even without the mark?”
He had a broad back and strong shoulders—and that ass…scrumptious. “He is easy on the eyes. Are these feelings going to wear off since the mark is gone?”
Gaston grinned. “Time will tell.”
“You already said that.”
“Miss Jane, I believe you’re going to be good for our friend Ethan.”
She tore her gaze away from his magnificent derriere. “Do you now?”
“He’s had a stake wedge up his ass since I turned him. Hopefully, you can remove it.”
Jane laughed. “I’ll make it my mission.”
Chapter Seven
“Good luck, my friend.” Gaston slapped Ethan on the back and grinned. He even had the nerve to laugh, the bastard. “I’m just a thought away if you need me.” He spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.
Jane strutted next to Ethan, matching his pace as he strode up Royal Street. “Oh, that’s cute.” She paused to look at a red vintage-style dress, reminiscent of the 1950s, in a shop window. “Too bad these stores aren’t open after dark. I’ll have to see if I can order this online.”
He started to complain that they needed to be on their way, but she was registered and had her biting permit. Other than teaching her how to feed, they had no pressing plans. He’d just damned her to a life of darkness; he could give her a moment to look at a pretty dress. Hell, if he could afford it, he’d buy the damn thing. She’d look amazing in it.
His face pinched at the thought. He’d figured—he’d hoped—that as soon as the mating mark was removed, his attraction to her would cease. But other than the little hollow space in his chest, he didn’t feel any differently about the confounding woman.
She was loud, entitled, and extremely annoying, yet every time she smiled, his sluggish heart beat a little bit faster. And now that he knew what she was wearing beneath her form-fitting sweater and jeans, he couldn’t get the image out of his mind. She wasn’t the only one who felt the desire to tear off clothing every time they touched.
There was a simple solution for that. He just wouldn’t touch her. He hadn’t felt attraction to anyone since Vanessa died. No need to change things now.
“Hey. You okay?” She placed her hand on his arm, sending a jolt to his heart and yanking him out of the daydream he’d lost himself in.
“Yeah. Fine.” He rubbed the spot where she’d touched him, trying to erase the images flashing through his mind of her rubbing another spot…a spot that hadn’t been touched in years. He stepped back, out of arm’s reach.
“What did Gaston mean by just a thought away? Can y’all put thoughts into each other’s heads?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “We can.”
Her dark eyes sparkled. “Can you teach me to do that? Can you do it to anyone?”
“I will eventually, and you can, but it takes time and intense practice to communicate with anyone other than your sir— the person who turned you.” She was right. Calling him her sire did sound wrong. He wasn’t into the daddy fetish either.
She smiled. “Now is as good a time as any.”
“Your constant talking already grates in my ears. I don’t need you inside my mind too.”
“Whoa.” She clutched her head. “You don’t have to be so rude.” Her smile returned. “I’ve got to learn how to do that.”
“More importantly, you need to learn how to feed. Let’s leave the Quarter and find dinner, shall we?”
Her nose crinkled. “Let’s have dinner in the French Quarter.”
“That’s not a good idea for your first time. During Mardi Gras, most of the people are drunk, and the alcohol in their blood will affect you. I’d hate for you to end up like Gaston.”
She pressed her lips together, a disgusted expression contorting her features. “Let’s have food for dinner. We can still eat, right?”
“Well, yes, but it provides no sustenance, and you only have three weeks to learn the proper biting techniques to get your license.”
“Why do we have to be licensed anyway?” She continued strolling along the sidewalk…and talking before he could answer her question. “We’re at the top of the food chain; we should be ab
le to do whatever we want.”
“Our kind has an agreement with the human government.” He walked next to her, but far enough away that she couldn’t touch him casually. He had to get his reactions to her under control. “We follow a set of rules, and we coexist in peace.”
She stopped and faced him, her eyes widening. “The human government knows vampires exist?”
“They know about all the supernatural beings. Part of the arrangement is for them to help keep our existence a secret.”
Her mouth hung open. “So my dad knows vampires are real?”
“He most likely does, but I don’t recommend you tell him you are one until you’re officially licensed.” Or at all. Ethan had no idea how the Texas government felt about supes. Fear could drive people to madness.
“Unbelievable.” She shook her head and chewed her bottom lip, looking thoughtful and awfully cute. “What happens if I miss the deadline? I’ve got plenty of money. I can pay a fine.”
“Unlicensed vampires pay with their lives. The punishment is the stake.”
“No one in their right mind would even think about staking the Governor’s daughter.” She waved a hand dismissively. “This is only my third night in the city. I have a super-long to-do list, and trying all the amazing food is a big part of it. Please? Sophie is meeting me at the rental house in two hours. That’s plenty of time for us to have dinner and get to know each other.”
“I don’t know, Jane.” A strange desire to make her happy tightened his chest, but restaurants in the French Quarter weren’t cheap. He hadn’t worked in weeks, and he barely had enough to pay the water bill this month.
“I may be a vampire, but I still have a job to do. My Instagram has been silent for more than twenty-four hours, and that’s not a good thing in my line of work.” She hooked an arm around his elbow. “C’mon. It’ll be my treat. I can write it off as a business expense.”
This close to her, he could smell his shampoo mixed with her own sweet scent, and damn it if it wasn’t the most delicious aroma to entice his senses in ages. “Do you always get what you want?”
“Most of the time, yes.”
License to Bite Page 7
