The Vampire Files Anthology

by P. N. Elrod

  "It's just a little splinter," he said. "I can pull it out without tweezers. Ready?"

  She wondered how her groom could see a little splinter in her foot much less pull it out when he did the deed. "Ouch!"

  "I'll kiss it and make it better," he promised.

  Although foot fetishes were not her forte, when Sam nibbled on her toes, Laura reconsidered her opinion. He worked his way up to her ankle, then higher until she forgot about the splinter. His hands slid up her legs beneath her sheer nightgown, pulling the nearly nonexistent panties over her hips and down her legs.

  "You smell good," he whispered huskily. "Your skin is so soft. You're beautiful."

  Although Laura knew she was attractive, Sam made her feel like a goddess. She loved the way he worshiped her. Slowly, he pushed the sheer nightgown up her thighs, gathering it around her waist. As he nibbled at the inside of her thigh, she moaned softly, her eyes half-closed in anticipation of the pleasures to come. The silvery moonlight spilling in from the open windows showered Sam in floating moonbeams… but wait, those weren't moonbeams, they were bugs!

  Jerking upright, Laura swatted at one of the insects, slapping Sam on the head.

  "Hey." He pulled back. "Why'd you hit me?"

  "There are giant insects in here!" Laura snapped her legs closed and jumped off the bed, nearly knocking Sam over in her haste to get away from the swarm.

  "They're just mosquitoes, Laura," he gently chided. "Go into the bathroom and spray yourself with bug dope while I shoo them out and close the windows. The repellent is in the medicine cabinet. It was probably the smell of your perfume that attracted them to begin with."

  So much for smelling good in the woods. Laura made a mad dash for the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She turned on the light, afraid the room would also be full of bugs, but the mosquitoes were obviously as claustrophobic as she was. Just as Sam said, the repellent was in the medicine cabinet. She sprayed herself down and cracked the door.

  "Are they gone?"

  Sam moved around the cabin lighting more candles. "I think I got most of them out," he said. "I'm putting a few citronella candles around the bed. The scent should keep them away."

  The candles smelled about as sexy as the repellent Laura had doused herself in. She walked out of the bathroom, careful not to shuffle her bare feet lest she get another splinter. "Maybe we can wait to start the actual honeymoon until tomorrow night."

  "Nonsense." Sam placed one more burning candle on the floor and moved toward her. "I want to make love to my bride. It's tradition."

  So far, nothing about their wedding night was traditional. "Making love together isn't anything new to either of us. I smell bad. There are bugs in the room. Let's call it a night and try again tomorrow."

  He shook his head and pulled her into his arms. "It is new, Laura. It's the first time we make love as husband and wife. We seal the vows we made to one another earlier by coming together as one tonight."

  Her eyes watered. Sam's words were romantic, but it was the candle aroma that made Laura tear up. She had wanted tonight to be perfect… well, as perfect as it could have been given their location, but so far, everything had gone wrong. Regardless, Laura wouldn't deny her new husband his marital rights. She'd certainly never denied him the same rights before the wedding. An idea occurred to her. Taking Sam's hand, she led him into the bathroom.

  After pulling the sheer gown over her head, Laura turned on the shower. "Okay, hot stuff, you've got about ten minutes before the water turns cold."

  SAM SAT IN THE MOONLIGHT SPILLING IN FROM the windows, watching Laura sleep. With her porcelain skin, her midnight dark hair, and sparkling blue eyes, she was a knockout. He'd fallen in love with his wife on sight—had come to love her more during the past months. She was funny, sassy, and sophisticated. Laura was supposed to be The One, so why didn't he feel any different inside?

  Glancing out into the night, Sam still saw things no human could see. His hearing allowed him to catch the slight snap of a branch as a night creature scurried through the brush. The affliction Laura had unleashed upon him should have been cured tonight. He'd met the woman meant for him. He'd married her and consummated their wedding night. What had happened? Why was he still cursed?

  "Sam?" Laura mumbled sleepily.

  He smoothed a velvet soft curl from her face. "I'm here."

  "The bedsprings are cutting into my back."

  After grabbing a couple of pillows, Sam tried to make Laura more comfortable. He stared down at her and felt miserable. He'd lied to his new wife, and about more than just the honeymoon location. Sam had plenty of money. He could have taken his bride on a romantic cruise. Hell, he could have taken her to Paris, but the bane of his ancestors kept him a prisoner of the woods and the full moon.

  If the curse was not broken as the poem handed down for centuries suggested it should be, Sam needed to be in surroundings where he could blend. He'd have to hide the truth from the one woman he wanted to have no secrets from.

  Already the change threatened him. The beast prowled beneath his skin, ready to break free. Sam must leave his bride's side and venture to the woods where it would claim him. Glancing down once more at Laura, he leaned close and kissed her lightly upon the forehead.

  "I'm so sorry, baby."

  Rasing, he walked to the door, eased it open and slipped outside. The smell of damp dirt, overripe vegetation, and fresh air filled his nostrils. The forest beckoned him, as did the full moon that hung suspended in the night sky. He followed the call, moving slowly at first before he speeded his journey to embrace the beast. Sam raced the shadows, jumping fallen logs, oblivious of the pine needles and small pebbles beneath his bare feet.

  Although the scourge of his forefathers had fallen upon him, he'd found a gift in a punishment tied to his name. Never did Sam feel so free as when he was one with the night. He'd adjusted to the pain of transformation over the past months and now fully embraced the change. It came to him easily, running on two legs one moment and then on four the next.

  He was accepted here, among the other creatures of the night. But Sam wanted to be accepted by his wife, as well, and he wasn't sure how Laura would react to the truth. Maybe tonight was just a fluke and tomorrow night he'd resist the lure of a full moon. As much as he loved his freedom, his love for Laura was stronger. As much as he embraced the beast within him, for her, he would forsake it.

  Rational thought became harder to maintain as he made the transformation. The joy of complete freedom found him, and still his mind was shackled by worry. If the curse was not broken by tomorrow night, what in the hell was he going to tell his wife?

  AN ACHING BACK WOKE LAURA. THE METAL BEDSPRINGS beneath the thin mattress seemed to have fused to her spine. A string of choice words came to mind, then she remembered. This was her honeymoon. She was Mrs. Sam Wulf. Smiling, Laura turned to other side of the bed. Her husband was missing. The sound of running water and the closed bathroom door located him. Sam was in the shower.

  Struggling to a sitting position, she glanced around the small cabin, hoping it would somehow look better in the light of day. The kitchenette with its outdated countertops held one bright spot. A coffeemaker. And the pot was full. Laura threw back the thin quilt covering her and rose. She'd dressed in more woods-friendly pajamas once she and Sam had made a lukewarm shower steamy.

  With socks on her feet, she walked to the kitchenette. Laura located a cup and poured a dose of morning courage. What horrors would Sam have in store for her today? Glancing out the double windows over the bed revealed a rugged mountain scene and lots of sunshine. It looked like a gorgeous day. Dammit.

  The bathroom door opened. Sam walked out wearing a towel. His sun-streaked hair was slicked back from his masculine features. A sexy morning shadow shaded his strong jawline. Droplets clung to his muscled chest. She sighed. Talk about gorgeous.

  "Did you sleep all right, baby?"

  Despite the thin, lumpy mattress and the hard metal bed-spring
s, Laura had slept well once she'd settled against Sam's warmth, snuggled safely in his arms. "Like a log," she answered, thinking it sounded like a woodsy response.

  He flashed a lopsided grin. "You look mighty sexy in those flannel pajamas."

  As a rule, Laura didn't do flannel. Sam had warned her that it got cold at night in the mountains, even during the summer months. Executing a modeling pivot, she said, "Get used to them. You've seen the last of the sexy stuff. Now that we're married, you'll see the monster I've kept hidden all these months."

  Her teasing failed to get the expected smile from Sam. He glanced away, hefting his suitcase onto the bed.

  Laura joined him. "You do know I was kidding, right?"

  "Of course I do," he answered, digging for clothing. "I thought we'd walk down to the lake, catch a few trout for dinner. How does that sound?"

  She was glad Sam had his head stuck in a suitcase so he couldn't see her blanch. Fishing? Walking? They'd have to actually go into the woods to reach the lake, right?

  "Can't we drive to the lake?"

  He shook his head. "We'll have to hike through some pretty rough terrain to reach the lake, but it shouldn't take us more than an hour if we get going." Pulling a shirt over his head, he added, "Be sure to spray yourself with repellent again before we leave."

  The fake smile on her face could last only so long. Laura grabbed her suitcase and rolled it into the tiny bathroom. She should have come clean with Sam a long time ago about her fear of the woods. She'd gone along with the lie about liking the outdoors at first because she knew Sam was a woodsy kind of guy. She hadn't wanted to ruin her chances with him just because they were different in that regard. For months Laura had worried about making excuses if he invited her to the cabin, but Sam hadn't invited her. Why? And why was she just now wondering why?

  "Coming, Laura? I've got everything we need. The fish bite better in the morning!"

  Glancing at herself in the mirror, Laura straightened her shoulders, "I can do this," she repeated.

  SAM WAS NEARLY ONE HUNDRED PERCENT CERTAIN LAURA had never been hiking about ten minutes into their walk. Although her shoes were cute, they weren't meant for serious exercise, and he'd taken an easier route to the lake the moment he saw them. When they'd first met, his new wife had indicated that she liked the outdoors.

  It had worried him at the time, waiting for Laura to insist on visiting the cabin with him on his monthly trips. But Laura had never asked to go along. Now he knew why. Her reaction to the cabin last night and to the bugs assured Sam she'd never spent a day of her life in the woods.

  "Are we almost there?" Laura huffed beside him. The way she gawked around as they walked, Sam figured she'd trip and break her pretty neck.

  "Not far," he assured her. "Laura, are you enjoying yourself?"

  "Sure," she answered, stumbling over a fallen branch. She caught herself and smiled at him. "As you said last night, who doesn't like the woods?"

  His wife didn't. Laura hadn't been viewing her surroundings as if awestruck by the beauty of the mountains. She was terrified. He sensed her fear with his animal instincts. Sam took her hand in his. "You have nothing to be afraid of, Laura."

  She wet her tempting lips. "You mean there's no bears or wild animals around here?"

  Lying to her about the possible dangers would be irresponsible. "There are all kinds of wild animals in the woods," he explained. "And yes, there are bears, although most of the time they stay higher in the mountains. As long as we don't leave food outside, they shouldn't bother us. It's wise to be alert to our surroundings, but being afraid defeats the whole purpose of enjoying nature."

  The tension he felt radiating from Laura lessened somewhat. She trusted Sam to protect her, and he would, with his life, but Laura needed to learn to trust her own instincts, as well.

  "I've taken this path to the lake many times so I'm familiar with it, but if I wasn't, I'd have brought along torn strips of cloth and marked my trail so I could easily find my way back to the cabin in case I lost my sense of direction."

  "That's a good idea," Laura said. "What about animals? How would you deal with them?"

  Sam adjusted the poles and tackle box he held in one hand. "Most of the time, it isn't a problem. Wild animals, as a rule, don't like to be around people. They'd rather stay out of sight. Only a sick or starving animal or one protecting their young would attack a human."

  Laura snapped her head around to look at him. "So surely in all these glorious woods there's at least a few of those."

  It appeared he wasn't getting through to his wife. Sam had meant to ease her worries, not increase them. He stopped, pulling Laura around to face him. "Do you want to go back? We can just hang around the cabin today if you'd feel more comfortable."

  Her beautiful blue eyes brightened. Then she frowned. "But you want to fish." Straightening her shoulders, she answered, "No, I want to go on. Maybe I'll like fishing."

  "I thought you had fished before."

  A blush bloomed in her cheeks. "Well, not for a long time. I've forgotten everything I once knew about fishing."

  She'd never been fishing, he strongly suspected. Sam didn't mind if his bride had led him to believe she liked the great outdoors, when it was obvious she knew next to nothing about it. A little white lie was nothing compared with what he hadn't told her.

  The curse was supposed to be broken. He had hoped it would be something he never had to confess. How did a man tell his wife, a woman who was obviously terrified of wild animals, that she had married one?

  "Is something wrong, Sam?"

  He realized he stood staring down at her while his thoughts raced. Sam shook his head. "No. Let's go fishing."

  WHAT HAD POSSESSED LAURA TO BELIEVE FOR ONE second that she might enjoy fishing? Sam's tackle box was filled with stinky smelling stuff, ugly wiggly plastic worms and bright metal little fish with hooks in them.

  "I'll bait your hook," Sam said, and she could have kissed him for not expecting she'd know how to do such a thing herself, or even want to. She wrinkled her nose as he dug into a jar of what appeared to be red squishy caviar. He put one of the eggs on her hook, then placed a red-and-white plastic ball on the fishing line.

  He cast out a little ways and handed her the pole. "Trout like salmon eggs. Watch the bobber, and if it suddenly jerks or goes under, pull your rod up and reel it in."

  Huh? "Okay," she said as if she had a clue what he'd just instructed her to do. Laura watched the bobber. It moved, so she jerked her pole.

  "That's just the current," Sam said. "You'll know the difference when you feel a tug on your line or the bobber actually goes under."

  "I know that," she fibbed. "I just wanted to reposition the bobber thingy." That sounded lame.

  "If you'd like, sit on that rock and make yourself more comfortable while you wait. Fishing takes patience."

  Could a rock be comfortable? And if she sat on one, wouldn't she get the rear of her cute shorts dirty? "I think I'll just stand," Laura decided.

  "Okay, suit yourself." Sam walked toward the rock with his baited pole. He cast out before settling on the rock. Her rugged outdoor man looked at home in his surroundings. He was obviously relaxed while Laura worried about what she would do if she actually managed to catch a fish on her line.

  Thirty minutes later it wasn't such a worry. "Are you sure there are fish in this lake?" she called to Sam.

  "I always catch a mess of fish while I'm here. Nothing tastes better than freshly fried trout."

  Laura didn't care for fish. She liked crab and lobster, but had always turned her nose up at anything else. If Sam caught a fish, she vowed to eat it, though. She'd misled Sam when they first met. Now might be a good time to come clean with him.

  "Sam, I need to tell you something."

  He glanced at her and lifted a brow.

  Meeting his trusting puppy dog eyes proved difficult. She stared at the ground instead. "I wasn't completely honest with you when we first met. I'm not the outdoors
y type, Sam. I only pretended be that kind of girl because I figured a woman who shared your interests would appeal to you the most. I wanted you to like me as much as I liked you."

  Suddenly Sam stood before her. He took the pole from her hand and laid it on the ground. Lifting her chin, he forced her to look at him. "Usually, I am more attracted to women who share my love of the outdoors, but there was nothing usual about the way I felt the first time I saw you. All I could do was stare—think about how beautiful you are, and smart and funny. I knew you were the woman I'd been waiting for all my life."

  Tears pricked Laura's eyes, and the reaction had nothing to do with the smell of repellant she'd sprayed down with before they left the cabin. Sam was the sweetest man. Men like her husband were few and far between. They were all but extinct.

  "You're not disappointed with me?" she asked. "You're not mad that I haven't been completely honest with you?"

  His warm fingers moved up her face to wipe the tears away. "It was just a little white lie. Sure, I'd love it if you wanted to take off with me and come up here, hang out and relax, but if it's not your thing, I understand. Just because it's one of mine doesn't mean you have to pretend to like something that you don't."

  Her heart flip-flopped inside her chest. "I've married Prince Charming." Laura raised on tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. When he didn't respond, she pulled back to look at him. His eyes were haunted. "What is it, Sam? What's wrong?"

  He glanced away. "I haven't been honest with you about everything, either…"

  She waited for Sam to continue, but suddenly her fishing pole shot forward on the ground. Sam broke away and bounded after it. He grabbed the pole.

  "Come here, Laura. You're going to catch your first fish!"

  SETTLED IN SAM'S ARMS LATER THAT NIGHT, LAURA didn't mind the lumpy mattress and the hard metal bedsprings. They'd eaten the fish she'd caught earlier and that was pretty good, but not nearly so good as the sex that followed dinner. Who'd have thought Laura Wulf was a fisherman? Certainly not her.