by Cynthia Sax
“…didn’t believe me,” he finished. That hurt even more than his burn. What did he have to do to earn her trust?
“It’s habit, I’m afraid.” Carly gave him a sad smile that made Vasile want to kill someone. “And it isn’t anything personal. I’ve been disappointed too many times by too many people… friends, lovers.” She waved her hand as though to dismiss the past. “I don’t believe anyone anymore.”
“But you believed once,” Vasile pressed. She needed to talk about this.
“I believed once,” she agreed. “When I was young.”
“When you were a child.” He rubbed his undamaged hand along her arm, wishing he could carry her pain for her. “Tell me about it.”
She looked over his shoulder, her gaze fixed on the stairs. “Read my thoughts.”
He had. “I want you to tell me.”
Carly didn’t say anything. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t touch him. Vasile waited. She inhaled deeply, held her breath, counted to ten, and exhaled.
“My parents divorced when I was young,” she shared, her voice soft. “I was supposed to spend weekends with my dad, and every Thursday, he’d call me, telling me he’d pick me up on Friday after work. He’d have the most wonderful plans.” Her face lit up.
“Fanciful activities like a day in the park, ice cream, and pony rides. I’d get so excited.” Her body vibrated with happiness. “I’d pack my nicest clothes into a little suitcase. I’d wear my prettiest princess dress. I wouldn’t even take my favorite dolly because I wanted all of my dad’s attention to myself. Then I’d sit on the stairs.” She glanced at the stairs behind him, her smile fading.
“And I’d wait and wait and wait. It’d get dark, and my mom would make me dinner, but I refused to eat because I knew…” She took another deep breath, her chest rising and falling. “I knew this time he’d come for me as he had promised.”
Vasile pulled her into his arms. “And he never did.” He wanted to kill her asshole of a father also. He held her as she trembled, raw, vivid emotion shaking her body. “He was human, Carly. All of the others were human also. I’m not.”
She looked up, meeting his gaze. “You’re a vampire.” She touched his mouth and he parted his lips, revealing his fangs.
“Vampires don’t break promises?” She tilted her head, her blonde hair flowing down her back.
He didn’t. “Not to our beloveds.” Vasile tapped the tip of her nose, and she blinked. “Once we’re bonded, you’ll be able to read my thoughts as I now read yours.” He’d keep his thoughts open to Carly, reassuring her.
“And I’d kick your ass for lying.” She grinned. “Is that what I am?” Her smile wavered. “Your beloved?”
“Yes.” He nodded gravely. Never thinking he’d find his beloved, he’d told himself he was happy with his playboy lifestyle. He’d lied, and Carly had shown him that truth. “You’re the only woman I’ll love for all eternity.” Doubt flickered in her brown eyes. “There’s no divorce for vampires. We’re not human,” he emphasized.
“You’re not human. You’re a vampire. You have different rules,” she repeated like a mantra to herself. “You won’t ever break a promise to me.”
“I won’t.” He vowed he never would, no matter what the price.
Chapter Three
He was a vampire. She sat on the stairs, clad in her stained red dress, and hugged her knees to her chest. They’d fucked and slept and fucked some more, spending the day in his locked-down home.
Because he was a vampire.
“You’ll stay inside. You won’t answer the door.” Vasile paced back and forth in front of her, issuing orders. “I’ll return before sunrise.”
Before sunrise… because he was a vampire. Vampires didn’t break promises. They didn’t lie to their beloveds, and she was Vasile’s beloved.
“Or I could go with you.” She felt powerless without her phone, her purse misplaced at the club, and she didn’t want to leave his side. “Your vampire buddy, Kerrick, won’t attack me in your own club.” A dark foreboding dread swirled low in her stomach.
Vasile paused his pacing and glared down at her. “One of his men bit you in my club. You’ll remain here.” He pointed at the floor.
“Okie dokie. I’ll sit on the stairs and wait for you.” She leaned back, supporting her torso with her elbows. “Lord knows I have years of experience in that.” She frowned, her mood childishly sullen.
His hard face softened. “I’ll be back.”
She wanted to believe him. “Because you’re a vampire, and the sun will fry your ass.”
“Because I say I will.” Vasile knelt before her, his dark, serious eyes level with hers. “And because I’ll miss you.” He slid his hands underneath her dress, along her bare thighs, and she caught her breath. Passion unfurled inside her, smothering her sense of impending doom.
“I’ll miss your touch.” He stroked into her wetness with his long, slender fingers, caressing her tender folds, and she spread her legs wider, giving him access to all of her.
“I’ll miss your taste.” Vasile extended his long, wicked tongue and lowered upon her slowly, slowly, every inch escalating her anticipation, her heart beating faster and faster. He flicked her clit with his tongue, and her hips jerked, the contact electric.
“You taste like me.” He licked along her pussy lips, tasting, tormenting, flattening his tongue against her flesh, and she trembled, lost in his touch. No other man made her feel like this, only her vampire, her beloved.
He nibbled on her, his lips firm and determined, and he spread his fingers over her skin possessively. “Yes.” She clutched him to her, mussing his black hair. “Vasile.” He pushed his tongue into her pussy, stroking her inner walls and teasing her clit with his nose.
He pressed farther into her, lapping up her juices, and the boisterous sounds of his feeding thrilled her. The rough rub of his tongue against her sensitive flesh coiled the bonds of desire around her tighter and tighter until she writhed and shook, trying to break free. He wouldn’t allow her escape, holding her securely, his bruising grip adding an arousing pain to her pleasure.
“Vasile, please,” she pleaded, tugging at his hair, driven mad with desire. All she knew was him, his mouth, his hands, his body pinning her hips against the hard staircase. “I can’t.”
He looked up at her, his eyes knowing. “Can’t you?” His head dipped once more, the bastard showing her no mercy. He covered her clit with his mouth and sucked.
Her world exploded, and she screamed, flinging herself upward. A pain jabbed through her right inner thigh. His fangs pushed inside her. Vasile rubbed her clit with his thumb, prolonging her seemingly never-ending orgasm, as he fed, feasted on her blood.
The room spun around her, her body pulsing in time with his gentle tugs, and she held onto Vasile, depending on him to keep her safe, to uphold his promise, to not break her heart.
“You’ll be back before sunrise,” she murmured, reassuring herself.
Vasile pulled away, his lips covered with her blood and juices. “I’ll be back.” He licked her wound closed and tugged the hem of her dress back down. “You’ll wait for me.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a command, but she answered anyway. “Yes.”
He reached into his jacket pocket. “Here’s my phone.” Vasile placed the sleek black model in her palms. “Call the club if you need anything.”
Carly stared at him with wonder. “You’re giving me your phone?” She clicked it open and caressed the buttons. Phones held address books, old texts, and secrets. He was entrusting her with his secrets.
He frowned. “What type of secrets did you keep in your lost phone?”
She frowned back, her good mood vanishing. “Secrets?” She played dumb, knowing all her personal information was in that phone, and she’d carelessly lost it.
He curled his fingers into fists. “Don’t lie to me, Carly.”
She couldn’t lie to him and that irked her. “How many times do I have to te
ll you?” She covered her guilt with anger. “Stop reading my mind! It is an invasion of privacy.”
He glared at her, his eyes glowing with burning red embers. “And how many times do I have to tell you? I’m a goddamn vampire. Get used to your privacy being invaded.”
Having delivered that arrogant statement, he grabbed his keys off the hallway table and blasted out the door, the heavy-duty locks clicking into place behind him.
Carly raised the phone, preparing to throw it at the door. She hesitated. A broken phone would leave her with hours to kill and nothing to do. She lowered her hand. Plus if he could read her mind, she could damn well read his past texts. Fair’s fair.
She scrolled through the sent texts, intent on finding information to embarrass Mr. High and Mighty with. The bar needed more whiskey. Boring. Some person named Mele needed to change shifts. Boring. Frey wanted him to call. Boring.
She rolled her eyes. Vasile was a vampire. Where was all the supernatural stuff? The blood and gore and wild sex orgies? Her texts had more action than his did.
As she searched his address book, Carly wandered around Vasile’s big, empty, antique-filled house. His place, complete with an impressive, pool table-dominated man cave, was crammed with collections of manly-man stuff from the past two centuries. His contact list consisted of half a dozen staffers from the club.
Others depended on Vasile. They trusted him to do what he said he would do. He didn’t have any deep, dark secrets, other than being a blood-sucking creature of the night. Her handsome vampire was boring and reliable. A warmth spread up Carly’s body. He might, just might, keep his promises.
And if he did that, she took a deep breath, she might, just might, allow herself to love him.
Cheered by that prospect, Carly trekked upstairs and crawled into Vasile’s huge, pimp daddy bed, surrounding herself with sheets smelling of him, her beloved. She texted her friend, Perla, nonsense until her brain quieted, and she fell asleep, dreaming of a future with a grim, handsome vampire.
Carly woke to the rapping of knuckles against wood. She wandered downstairs, following the noise, and she peeked out the peephole. A red-rimmed eye filled her view. Holy shit. The knocking continued, and she looked again, recognizing him. It was the vampire from the club, the one who had bitten her.
Kerrick’s man. Why would one of Kerrick’s men be at Vasile’s door? The two factions hated each other.
The knocking grew louder, more insistent. Don’t answer the door. Carly stepped back. That was one of Vasile’s many rules.
The vampire wasn’t giving up. Flesh slammed against wood, and the door shuddered. Shit. Shit. Shit. He was trying to break in. She was alone, and he was a vampire. Carly shivered, her stomach twisting with fear. Oh, God. She was going to die.
No. Stay calm. Vasile said he’d be back before sunrise. She checked her watch. It was almost sunrise. The door was solid. It should hold.
Carly looked around her, and her gaze landed on the windows -- windows made of thin, fragile glass. She smacked the button for the shutters, wincing at the loud hum as they closed.
“The windows!” the vampire yelled.
Who was he yelling at? Oh, God. There must be more of them.
Palms slapped on the shutters, the assault coming from all around her. Carly pivoted on her bare feet, horrified. There were so many of them. Wood splintered. The shutters shook. Glass broke. Shit. Bloodthirsty vampires surrounded the house.
She phoned the club and got voice mail. The club was closed. Vasile would be returning home.
But even if Vasile arrived in time, he couldn’t fight them alone. He’d need her help. She rushed down the hallway. Think, Carly. What kills vampires? She had no control over where the sun shone. Vasile, being a vampire himself, wouldn’t have holy water, garlic or crosses in his home.
Stakes, she’d use wooden stakes.
Carly rushed to the back of the house to Vasile’s man cave. The pool table was antique, and the cues were works of art. It was a shame, what she had to do. “I’m sorry, Vasile,” she murmured, swinging a cue with both hands, snapping the stick over the side of the table and shattering it in two. She collected the pieces and tapped her thumbs on the jagged ends, testing their sharpness. “Perfect.”
She split the remaining cues and tucked the makeshift stakes under her arm. Loaded down with weapons, Carly returned to where Vasile had instructed her to wait, prepared to do battle with the undead.
Chapter Four
Vasile strode through the empty club, heading for the back entrance. He didn’t have time for listen to drunk patrons and their complaints about the closing time and overpriced liquor. He had a promise to keep and a woman to love.
“Master.” Mele, his head waitress, joined him, her shorter legs moving double time to keep up.
“What now?” he barked, his patience stretched. Tonight he’d dealt with a battle-hungry, dragon-shifting business partner, bespelled employees, and a missing phone filled with secrets. All he wanted to do was go home to his beloved’s open arms.
The waitress swallowed hard, and guilt swept over him. “What is it, Mele?” Vasile forced softness to his voice. His bad day wasn’t her fault.
“Kerrick’s men are waiting outside the front door,” she explained, her words subdued. “They’ve been drinking hard and --”
“They’re looking for a fight,” Vasile finished for her. In the past, he’d jump on any legitimate opportunity to bust their thick skulls. Tonight, he had different priorities. “Let North and his team handle them.” His werewolf bouncers hated the vampires almost as much as he did.
Mele’s green eyes widened. “Yes, Master.” She hurried away, her high heels clicking on the metallic floor.
Vasile slid through the back door and coasted along the alley, breathing in the smells of a city that was never at rest. He kept to the shadows, drawing no notice from the club kids looking for the next high, the cops huddled around steaming cups of coffee, or the man in the long, beige trench coat walking his dachshund. This was New York. No one noticed anyone or anything in the big city.
He stopped, hearing an unusual clamor amidst the night sounds. Fuck. Not even a multi-vampire attack in a quiet neighborhood spurred residents to take action.
They dared to attack his quiet neighborhood.
Carly. Vasile ran at full speed, the trees and streetlights and signs blurring around him. His beloved. He must protect her.
Vampires surrounded his house. Kerrick’s man -- the same vampire who had bitten Vasile’s mate in the club the night before -- rammed his shoulder against the front door, the reinforced doorframe splintering under his supernatural strength.
A red mist of rage colored Vasile’s view. His fangs dropped. His claws extended. He moved so quickly and silently, the vampire didn’t see him coming.
Vasile leaped into the air and, with a downward arc of his claws, he sliced the fledgling’s head completely off. The detached skull bounced on his front steps, the spraying blood painting the white door and scenting the night air, before the skull and torso burst into flames.
Vasile twisted in the air to land soundlessly on both feet, facing the street, his boots planted securely on the concrete and his legs braced apart. He studied the pile of ash dispassionately. There was one less threat to Carly.
Vasile pivoted on his heels and surveyed the damage. The shutters were lowered, and the door was intact. He pressed his ear to the charmed wood, dreading what he might find inside.
Carly’s heart beat strongly. Her breath rasped rapidly. His beloved was frightened but alive. Some of the tension in his shoulders eased.
Cheap leather creaked behind him. Vasile turned, his long, black coat swinging around his body, and he extended his arms, decapitating the vampire flying at him from the left.
Kerrick’s men rushed toward him in an imposing wave of darkness. Kerrick, that chicken shit, was nowhere to be seen.
Vasile kicked and sliced and clawed, striking each blow with one purpose -- to
kill. There was no mercy and no holding back of his superior powers. Tonight, he would send a grisly message. No one attacked his home, and no one harmed his beloved. They would all die for daring to do so.
Vasile was stronger, more powerful, and older, with years of fighting experience. Kerrick’s men had sheer numbers. They kept coming, and he continued to kill them, spinning and slicing, maintaining the perimeter around him. Any vampire who breached that perimeter died.
The body count increased, the temperature rising with their burning flesh. Blood flowed between Vasile’s fingers. His muscles ached. His body tired. He fought with grim determination.
The ugliest vampire he’d ever seen flew toward him. As Vasile turned to face his attacker, he slipped on a puddle of ash, and claws connected with his left forearm. He roared, the pain breathtakingly fierce.
“Vasile!” Carly yelled from the other side of the door.
“Stay inside,” he ordered, her voice boosting his flagging energy. He had to fight. He had to protect her. He sliced his deadly claws across the goon’s neck, his scarred face slackening with surprise.
Vasile gritted his teeth. The newly turned always thought they were invincible. He scanned the faces of the five attackers surrounding him. Fuck. All the males were newly turned. Not one of Kerrick’s senior vampires was present.
A blond, pretty boy entered his circle. Vasile swung his arms, easily carving through the vampire’s delicate neck.
It didn’t make sense. Why would Kerrick send his weakest men to fight him? Why didn’t he call for a retreat?
The front door creaked open, and he smelled Carly’s sweet scent. What --
Claws raked over his right shoulder, leaving a trail of burning pain. He bellowed, releasing some of his torment into the air.
“Oh, God. Vasile, your shoulder.” She hovered on the threshold, holding what looked like… Hell, were those his custom-crafted, antique pool cues, broken in two? What was she --
