by Rose , Renee
I blink at my hand, trying to see what he sees.
“Focus past your hand at the wall but still look at your hand.”
“That makes no…” I twist around, my breasts brushing against Charlie’s firm chest. “...sense.” My nipples tighten, heat travels up my neck.
He smirks down at me. I’m sure he knows I find him attractive. He turns me back around and smacks my ass. “Try again.”
* * *
Aurelia
I’m tired but happy when it comes time for my shift. I feel hollowed out but triumphant.
I’m surprised Charlie even lets me go to work, but I guess he knows I won’t run. Already there’s a bond between us. Weird but true.
I pick up a burrito on my way to work from one of the food trucks, eating it as I walk. I can’t stop thinking of the vampire. Was he really born in 1825? What has he seen? And how much lore about vampires is true? Are vampires incapable of telling lies? Would eating garlic keep him away? Where would he get his blood if not from me? Did he kill people often?
Maybe I don’t want to know that. I hurry into work, looking forward to getting a boost from the children.
“Aurelia-aaa!” several shout when I walk in. Willie zips over in his wheelchair to greet me, and Shelly and Matt run over and hug me. I greet the kids and fall into my routine of supervising their free time, dinner and recreation.
“What are we doing tonight?” Shelly asks after dinner. I always lead them in one last recreation activity before bedtime, a chance to get their last wiggles out before they wind down.
“We’re playing charades,” I announce in an excited tone accompanied by jazz hands.
“Yay!” the kids cheer.
“Who’s ready?”
“I am, I am,” goes the chorus.
Those who want to play gather up, and I begin the game, splitting the group into teams and taking the first card for my team. I stand on the stage, trying to get my team to say Mission Impossible, which seemed to be a mission impossible in itself. These kids have no idea who Tom Cruise is. I pantomime the best I can while the kids giggle. “Fast and the Furious,” Gwen joins in, laughing. I roll my eyes at her.
And then I freeze.
Charlie stands in the doorway, his arms folded across his muscled chest, a bemused expression on his face.
Holy forking shizz. He came to my place of work. What is he thinking?
The timer goes off, and the kids gleefully inform me that I lost. I superglue a beaming smile on my face and head to my group, not looking at Charlie. But I’m well aware of exactly where in the room he is. May as well be a giant blinking light on a map. Vampire alert!
Gwen turns and visibly starts at the vampire. Her jaw goes slack. Either she’s stunned to silence by Charlie’s good looks, or she knows something’s wrong.
Before I can call her name or head over, her expression turns blank. She looks away from Charlie, almost past him, and continues cleaning up as if she didn’t realize he was there.
Did Charlie just hypnotize my co-worker? Dang it. What other havoc will he wreak here?
He saunters my way.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss under my breath when he reaches my side.
He shrugs. “I told you. You won’t be rid of me until you’ve lifted the curse.”
“But I’m working. You need to leave—right now.”
“Ah, luv.” He folds his arms. “Who’s going to make me?”
My fists clench automatically, but I have absolutely no way to make him do anything. Putting up with his presence at home was one thing, but to think I endangered these innocent children by exposing them to a vampire makes me want to puke.
The kids don’t seem to notice him. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
I lean towards him, anger burning through me. “If you so much as touch—”
“I’m not here to harm the children,” he interrupts, appearing offended.
“Why are you here?”
“We have work to do. After sundown is my best time of day. Hence, I will be working here with you.”
Her shoulders sag. “No way.”
“Then change your schedule to work days,” he says, like it’s that simple.
I grit my teeth to keep from cursing out the arrogant fang boy. “I would love to, but it’s not up to me. I’m low woman on the totem pole around here.”
He cocks his head. “Is the person in charge of that decision here tonight?”
My stomach lurches. What would he do?
“Yes,” I say, warily. “Why? What are you going to do, hypnotize her?”
“Why not?”
“Well, it may not be so simple. Like perhaps she doesn’t have anyone to switch me with, or management has a rule against…”
“Where is she?” he cuts me off.
I stare at him, my thoughts tumbling. On one hand, I would prefer to work days, so what harm could there be in trying? On the other hand, the more the vampire interferes in my life, the more complicated things might become.
Or maybe it’ll all turn out all right. I put a hand on my stomach to steady it. “Edith Johnson—tall, salt and pepper hair. Her office is down that hall on the right.”
He winks. “I’ll be right back.”
I half expect him to simply disappear as he did the night before, but he turns and walks away, the muscles of his back rippling under his tight shirt, the faded seat of his jeans molding to his ass.
“Miss Aurelia!” I tear my thoughts away from my arrogant vampire’s perfect butt. It’s my team’s turn again, and the children want me to do the charades.
Unfortunately, two of the children begin arguing over the answer, and one of them, Tommy, an eight-year-old with impulse control issues, among other things, goes to grab the other child. I intercede, restraining him in the way we were taught, his arms crossed over his chest with me holding him from behind in an embrace as I speak calming words.
Tommy thrashes with more strength than I might guess a child of his size would have, and I almost lose my grip.
The cool scent of Charlie’s cologne hits me before I realize the vampire is back. He’s at my side faster than humanly possible. I jump and Tommy fights harder.
“Everything’s all right, Tommy. Take it easy. Breathe,” I soothe.
“Look at me, Tommy,” Charlie says.
“No, don’t!” I snap, my heart racing.
My panic only fuels the boy’s, and he frees one hand, which smacks me in the face. I catch his wrist again and pull it to his waist. This situation’s getting worse. First of all, if the other counselors show up to help, I have Charlie’s presence to explain. Unless he glamors them all, Tommy included. But most of all, I don’t trust him not to hurt the boy or cause trouble.
But Charlie catches Tommy’s eye, and the boy’s body softens and relaxes. I ease my hold on him, and he turns around and hugs me. “Sorry, ‘Relia,” he chirps, his fit completely vanished. I hug him back. “It’s okay, Tommy.”
I shoot a glance at Charlie, and the vampire arches a brow. “See? No harm done. Now he’s happy.”
* * *
Charlie
If looks could kill, Aurelia’s would’ve bound and staked me instantly. But when I saw her struggling with the boy, an irrational protective urge surged, even though she had a handle on the situation. I acted automatically.
I shouldn’t have interfered.
I dematerialize, tracing to Eclipse, a bar on Congress Street owned by a werewolf named Garrett. A powerful vampire named Lucius is in the process of taking over Tucson. He already has a club established, but I’d rather not attract his attention. This werewolf bar is open to all sorts, and as long as I don’t cause trouble, the shifters won’t tell Lucius I’ve been here.
I order a Stoli and Seven and sit down on a bar stool. A group of cheetahs play pool in the back. A few mutter “leech” in my direction, but I ignore them. No love lost between vampires and shifters. Not that I’ve gotten along with many of my
own kind either. But I enjoy Eclipse. There’s a certain comfort in hanging with other creatures of the night. No need to explain my presence or intentions at Eclipse—no one asks questions here.
A pink-haired bartender slides my drink across. She’s mortal, but I doubt she knows what’s really going on in this club. Some humans are attracted to paranormals. Like the goth crowd—many of them have an affinity to vampires whether they recognize them or not.
“How’s it going?” the woman purrs, leaning over the bar to give me a full display of her stunning cleavage.
“Well,” I answer as blandly as I can.
“Well, what?”
“It’s going well. How are things here?” The small talk bores me, as does the human’s attempt to flirt. The cheetahs at the pool table are shooting more dirty looks in my direction. Garrett only employs his wolves as bouncers, but his pack is well allied, and the cheetah shifters won’t hesitate to act as enforcers if I give them a reason.
Meanwhile, the bartender squeezes her arms against the sides of her breasts with her upper arms, so they move together and forward, like an offering.
Unbidden, the image of Aurelia’s lovely pair rises in my mind. I remember the flustered little sound she made when I sliced off her bra with my teeth. I plan to do so much more to her. I can hardly wait to do all the things I imagine. She’s so responsive, it’ll be a joy to train her to be mine—
But no.
That’s not why I’m here. I’m not training her to be mine, I’m using her to free myself of the curse. Period. End of story.
I don’t need to get involved with another Fae in any sort of romantic fashion. Already, my little Tinkerbell is dredging up emotions I’d happily forgotten existed. Like guilt.
I nurse a drink until midnight, when I walk out and trace to Aurelia’s workplace. My little mortal has already exited, walking down the sidewalk with small, tight strides.
“Where’s the bubble?” I drawl. I take one stride to her two, but my leisurely pace overtakes her.
She quickens her steps, her nose pointed to the sky. I don’t have to catch her scent to know she’s mad at me.
I stroll alongside her, hands in pockets. “I don’t think I like you walking home alone at night. Do you always use the bubble or just when you see vampires?”
She doesn’t answer.
“I caution you not to use that bubble around vampires unless you really have to. You don’t want someone less savory than I taking an interest in you.”
“Vampires less savory than you? God forbid,” she mutters. She doesn’t turn to look at me as she continues to stomp up the street.
“There are,” I say, thinking of vampires I’ve met over my lifetime. Most view humans as chattel, food. “And they would drain you, Aurelia, the moment they saw your power.”
“Thanks for the warning,” she says, each word frosted with sarcasm. “I’d hate for a creepy vampire stalker to find me on the street and follow me home.” She marches on.
She’s lucky I find her fit of temper amusing. Her ass is so cute. I admire the way it twitches as she power walks home.
I shouldn’t have left my guard down. When Aurelia reaches her doorway, she unlocks it and scurries inside. Whirling, she snaps, “You are not invited in.” She glares as I approach.
“You are uninvited,” she repeats, as if testing for the right combination of words.
Either phrase does the job. My face and body tingle like I’ve been zapped by an electric fence. I hiss at the invisible barrier.
Aurelia grins coldly in triumph and slams the door on my face.
I pound on the door. “Aurelia.”
When she doesn’t respond, I pound louder until her neighbor’s door opens.
“What the hell is—”
“Go back inside, Karen,” I order. The woman’s mouth closes. I add a few suggestions. By the time I’m done, Karen won’t hear any sounds from Aurelia’s place and won’t remember seeing me at all. Karen toddles back into her side, and I resume pounding.
“Knock it off, or I’ll call the cops,” Aurelia calls through the door.
“What do you think they’ll do?” I demand.
Silence from the other side of the door. I wait. Aurelia’s smart. She’ll come to the logical conclusion that the cops will be hella useless against a vampire. No human can touch me.
The silence stretches to a minute, and I give up on patience. “Shall I start busting in your windows?”
Aurelia throws the door open. For a moment she’s surrounded by a glow--like Madonna with a halo. “Won’t that be inconvenient for sleeping during the day?”
I simply smile. She knows she’s defeated.
“Why don’t you go away?” She’s gorgeous in anger, eyes flashing. My mouth waters at the scent of her magic.
But my patience is gone. “Invite me in. Now, Aurelia .”
She huffs. Her chin tips up in a show of pride.
“You will regret making me wait,” I inform her. It’s not a threat—it’s a fact.
“Fine, come in,” she snaps.
I blur past her, snatching her up by the waist and hoisting her off the floor as I shut the door. She kicks her shapely legs, thrashing and beating me with her fists. “Let. Go. Of me!”
“Do not lock me out,” I growl.
She must realize I mean business because her tone changes. “Wait. Stop,” she wheedles. “I’m sorry. Please calm down. I won’t. I won’t do it again, I promise!”
I touch my fangs with the tip of my tongue, but they haven’t lengthened. So what is she afraid of?
I draw in a deep breath and scent what she’s trying to hide. Arousal. The tiny bit of fear barely tinges the scent, like a bit of chocolate swirl garnishing a large wedge of cake. She’s not afraid of me. She’s afraid of what she feels.
I fist her hair and tip it back, tugging a little to introduce a little pain to the situation. Her scent grows rich and absolutely delicious--strawberries and sunshine and champagne.
Pain makes a vampire victim’s blood sweeter. Over the millenia, my kind have capitalized on this phenomenon through prolonged torture of our victims. More refined vampires, though, like the vampire king Lucius Frangelico, the one who seeks to make Tucson his, utilize sexual fear and pain to create their sweetbloods. Donors come voluntarily to his BDSM dungeon to suffer and receive gratification and offer up their veins for their masters to sample.
I’ve played at the practice, but the curse made it an unsatisfactory game for me, other than the taste of the blood. Now, though, with sweet Aurelia squirming in my arms, I’m suddenly interested in exploring it.
In depth.
I carry my little fae to the couch and arrange her straddled over my thighs. I fill my hands with her ass and squeeze. “That was a very nice apology,” I rumble. “I love the sound of desperation in your voice. But do you really think it’s going to get you out of punishment?”
She relaxes into our game. On some level, she wants to submit to me. “Are you going to spank me?”
“I’m not sure. You might enjoy it too much.”
She flushes.
“I apologize for upsetting you today,” I offer. “But really, I think a bit more trust is in order. I am a vampire, but I was human once. I would not harm the innocent.”
“Your fangs were half out,” she accuses.
Surprise flickers. Were they? I remember blurring to her side. I’d been afraid for her. “For a moment, I thought you were in danger.”
She stares, her eyes rounding. “From a little boy?”
I give a quick shake of my head. “Illogical, I know. I just saw you in a tussle when I walked in, and I had the urge to protect. But they only came out a little. When they are fully elongated and I’m angry, you must be very cautious.”
“You...you had an urge to protect?”
“Odd, isn’t it? Goes against my vampire nature to look out for anyone but myself.” I grin. “I must be quite confident you can truly cure me of my curse.”
/>
The way her gold-flecked eyes travel over my face with curiosity tell me she doesn’t quite buy my deflection. I’ll have to guard my feelings from the little fairy.
“I got you moved to the day shift. You see? I’m not all bad.”
“Yeah,” she says, her eyes focusing on my lips. “Thanks for making that happen.” To my utter shock, she lowers her head and kisses me.
I surge into action, cupping her face, holding her in place to return the gesture. My tongue licks into her mouth, teasing her lips. She wraps her arms around my neck and thrusts her own tongue into my mouth just as my fangs lengthen with arousal. She yanks away from me with a gasp of pain, her tongue sliced on a sharp tooth.
The smell of blood makes my fangs punch out. I grasp her head to pull her face back down to my mouth to repair the damage.
She makes a screaming sound in her throat, pushing her hands against my chest as I suck her tongue into my mouth, sealing the cut and promoting its quick healing.
I release her, and she scrambles back from me, her face pale and terrorized.
“I was sealing the cut.” I keep my tone reasonable although her lack of trust irritates me more than it should. I’m the one who’s played the asshole with her. She has no reason to trust me. And yet I’m offended, just the same.
When did I become so sensitive?
“My saliva has quick-healing and analgesic properties.”
“Please, don’t,” she begs, scrambling off my lap.
Fuck.
* * *
Aurelia
The vampire looks annoyed, his brows lowering as he stands and stalks to the kitchen.
I didn’t mean to act so bitchy, but for a minute there, I thought it was the end, and I was about to get sucked dry.
Now that I see I’ve offended him—maybe even hurt his feelings—it occurs to me that he might be right. A little more trust might be in order.
Opening the fridge, he regards my empty shelves. “Why don’t you have any food here? What do you eat?”
I hate it when people find out how poor I am. “Well, sorry. I didn’t know his royal highness would be requiring food. Maybe you’d like to pitch in for groceries.”
