9
Use common sense when dressing for work. Yes, you have the right to wear open-neck blouses that highlight the length and definition of your throat. That doesn’t mean you should.
—The Office After Dark: A Guide to Maintaining a Safe, Productive Vampire Workplace
A witch, a computer programmer, and a couple of vampires walking into a coffee bar may have sounded like a complicated setup for one of Dick Cheney’s inappropriate jokes, but sadly, it was how I was spending my night off.
Nik was working, fielding some last-minute call from Ophelia about a new break-in over in Murphy. When I told Iris that I was planning to spend the evening at Specialty Books, she’d been thrilled, but she’d also called the shop shortly after I’d arrived, either because she questioned my night-driving abilities or she still had doubts about my “going out for coffee with coworkers” excuse for being out so late with Nik. Once again, neither option was great, but I supposed I should be grateful that Cal hadn’t attached a GPS locator to my car.
Still, it was nice to have a quiet evening out, even if I was under the careful but intentionally nonchalant supervision of Dick, Andrea, and Jane. I loved Jane’s bookshop, with its soothing but whimsical blue and purple color scheme and comfy reading chairs. I loved the old maple and leaded-glass cabinet she used as a sales counter and the tidy, carefully labeled bookshelves that suited her former librarian’s sensibilities. It was nice to know some things hadn’t changed since I went away to school. Dick still “worked” at the shop, but he mostly stayed in the back because of his tendency to offend some (uptight, humorless) customers. Andrea still ran the espresso machine, because she didn’t trust anyone else to keep it from exploding. Jane still made incendiary coffee when Andrea left the shop.
The business had flourished since Jane’s shaky opening years before. They’d added on to the coffee menu over the years, and they were now considered one of the best vampire-friendly coffee bars in the state. The shelf stock ran the gamut from mainstream paranormal romances to mystical gardening books, but Jane was best known for her vampire nonfiction, self-help for the fanged set. Internet orders alone were enough to keep the store in the black, something Mr. Wainwright had rarely accomplished.
The nonfiction section, particularly the titles concerning magic and its effects on vampires, was what drew me to Specialty Books that night. Since Nola didn’t have a lot of experience with vampire curses and I knew how easy it was to post absolute insanity-babble on the Internet, I was sifting through Jane’s shelves to try to find some answers about Nik’s state of mind. Jane was eager to help, as she was unaware of vampires’ susceptibility to curses and figured if anyone was bound to tick off a witch badly enough to end up hexed, it would be her.
“Thanks for letting me use your research materials, Jane,” I said, as Andrea served me a (nonbloody) mocha and a chocolate chess square.
I had all of the related books in the store spread across my little round maple table, including When Magic Meets the Undead: Spells and Their Effects on Vampires and Curses Most Foul: A Guide to Hexing Your Exes. Even though Ben was a pretty nice guy, it was good to know I had options.
“We’ll just tell Iris that you spent the night reading the Morganville Vampires books and ridding my computer of viruses, OK?” she said, throwing her long braid of thick brown hair over her shoulder as she wiped down the sales counter.
“I clicked on one pop-up ad!” Dick shouted indignantly from the back of the shop.
Jamie, who was sprawled across the cushy purple love seat near the coffee bar, shook his head and raised his hand. He mouthed the words “Multiple pop-up ads.” Then he made an explosion noise and spread his fingers wide. I laughed. Even though Jamie wasn’t helping with the actual research, he’d insisted on accompanying me to the shop tonight. He claimed he wanted to spend some quality time with me, now that I was a grown-up working woman and my nights off were such a precious commodity. But I suspected he was just nervous about me walking back and forth to my car, since that was proving to be such a challenge of late.
Jane insisted that Jamie wasn’t going to help me, that he was going to read something constructive, so she’d handed him a copy of The Jungle by Upton Sinclair. While I’d had to read that particular title as part of my senior English class in high school, newly vampirized Jamie had completed his diploma from home and had missed out on Sinclair’s scathing depiction of the pre-USDA meatpacking industry. The more Jamie read, the more repulsed his expression, which seemed to make Jane happy, because at least she knew he was paying attention.
“If I wasn’t already on a liquid diet, this book would put me off hamburgers for life,” Jamie said, making his patented gag face.
“I was a vegetarian for about six months after reading The Jungle,” I told him. “I still can’t eat hot dogs. But it’s important that you read that now, because you’ll be reading much more disturbing stuff in your freshman lit class. Heart of Darkness will scar you for life.”
“I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to have you two sitting around discussing books,” Jane said, putting a tall glass of what amounted to vampire chocolate milk in front of Jamie: bottled blood and Hershey’s Special Blood Additive Chocolate Syrup. She actually wiped a pinkish tear from her eye as she ruffled Jamie’s hair. He scowled and brushed his hair back into its usual intentionally messy state. But after he drained his little snack, he had a bright red milk mustache on his upper lip, so his indignation was short-lived.
“That is disgusting,” I told him.
He winked at me and wiped the errant blood foam away.
“So if you don’t want to tell Iris why I’m here tonight, why are you helping me?” I asked Jane.
“Because forbidden love with a hot, mysterious vampire?” she said, gesturing to her paranormal romance section. “I’m not only the president of that club, I’m also a member.”
She ignored Jamie’s muttered “Gross.”
“Besides, you’re going to do this whether we help you or not, so it’s better that you have some resources and supervision,” Jane continued. “And for what it’s worth, based on my very quick read of Nik, I don’t think he’s a bad guy or that he’s trying to hurt you. I’m getting a lot of blank spots from him, which backs up his whole amnesia story. Don’t get me wrong, Geeg, he has some very warm thoughts that I probably shouldn’t share in front of Cal, but none of them are hostile. He honestly doesn’t want to hurt you.”
I blew out an exasperated breath. “Well, that’s disappointing. I was really hoping we would get this magical clue, like ‘Gigi emotionally traumatized Nik by reminding him of a hated enemy who attacked him on a Christmas tree farm.’ And all I would have to do was prove I was trustworthy around pointy tree stumps or something.”
“That’s not usually how it works,” Jane said, squeezing my arm.
“I just wish I could make Iris see how my situation isn’t that different from hers. I know she has a tendency to overreact when I’m in peril, but I thought she’d have adjusted by now. She’s still pulling the Mama Capulet routine pretty hard.”
“So, since it’s upsetting everybody who loves you, maybe you should just walk away from this guy and never ever talk to him again,” Jamie suggested brightly.
“I will not take dating advice from the man who knowingly and willingly bloodmated himself to Ophelia Lambert,” I told him. “At least Nik’s violent episodes are unintentional. Ophelia’s violent episodes happen because it’s Tuesday or because her hair didn’t turn out the way she wanted.” Jamie’s mouth dropped open, as if he was going to defend his Machiavellian lady love. “But even though I’ve mocked you mercilessly for dating her, I’ve never genuinely encouraged you to leave her. Because that’s none of my business. I would hope you would do the same for me.”
Jamie scowled again. “Oh, sure, bring logic and compassion into the argument. Cheater.”
“You and Iris will be fine,” Jane assured me, sliding into the chair at my left. “It’s not like Jenny and me, where we had to build a relationship from the ground up as adults. You have a strong foundation. This is just a minor bump in the road. And I know this probably doesn’t make you feel any better, but her anger and spazzery comes from a place of concern. Trust me, as someone who has been hassled all of her life by someone who means well, it’s less annoying than the efforts of someone who is honestly trying to hurt you.”
“I will keep that in mind,” I promised Jane.
Jane winked at me, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “Good girl. Now, what are you finding?”
I handed Jane my notes, which she read over quickly, making little asterisks on the points she considered important. “You know, until Nola showed up, I wouldn’t have believed there was such a thing. I mean, Gabriel told me that witches were real, but until I saw her work her mojo . . . We live in an amazing world, Gigi.”
“Well, this amazing magical world has it in for you vampires just as much as us humans, so at least it’s equal opportunity.” I flipped open her copy of Hermann’s Guide to Supernatural Physiology. “As you know, vampire energy isn’t the same as human energy, because we run on different wavelengths. Basically, witches have to work a little harder to cast on you guys, because your energy is harder to pin down. You would have to have frequent contact with the vampire to cast on him, dose him with the potion, or snatch his hair, blood, et cetera.”
“Well, strike amazing, that’s just horrible,” Jane said, shuddering.
“What’s horrible?” Nola asked, strolling into the shop and dropping her purse next to my table. Nola was wearing the blue-and-peach scrubs required for her job at Half-Moon Hollow’s free clinic. She looked tired and worn out, which was natural, considering the rigors of being a medical empath who hung around sick people all day, but she was happy.
“The various bits of DNA that witches need for casting,” Andrea said, pouring a cup of tea she’d been brewing for Nola, knowing that her chamomile-loving step-great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter was coming for a visit. “It’s unseemly.”
“And on that note, I’m going to go see what Dick is doing,” Jamie said, snapping his book closed. “Gross club memberships and DNA collection are a little much, even for me.”
“According to what I’m reading, whoever cursed Nik sees him frequently,” I said, showing her the book. “As far as I know, the only people he sees regularly are the other employees at the Council office and me. Since I know that I’m not the one casting on him, I would assume it’s another Council employee. But the Council doesn’t employ a full-time magical consultant. Also, there’s the added complication of Nik not remembering being worked over, spell-wise, so we’re dealing with someone pretty powerful, maybe with hypnotic abilities. I don’t think someone like that is going to be working as a file clerk. For all her faults, Ophelia is a big believer in taking advantage of her employees’ full potential.”
“Have you thought about who at the office could be a witch?” Nola asked, sipping her tea. “Someone who might want to harm you, considering that the curse seems to focus on hurting you?”
“Besides Ophelia?” I asked. “Mr. Crown doesn’t seem to like me, but I don’t think he likes anyone. Margaret, Ophelia’s secretary, is pretty snippy with me, but I think it’s because I’m borderline rude to her boss, like, all the time. Also, I don’t respect her carefully constructed schedule. And there’s the lady from accounting whom I caught taking Jordan’s yogurt out of our office’s fridge. She acted all indignant about being caught, like it was my fault for walking in on her stealing.”
Nola nodded. “Either of those last two seems plausible. Witches can be sticklers for time . . . and yogurt.”
“So really, there are several people at my office who do not wish me well, and any number of them could be witches. This conversation is not making me feel better.”
“You could always quit,” Dick called from the back.
“I really can’t,” I called back. “My postprobationary compensation package of fabulous prizes just kicked in. I’m making more money in a pay period than I made in my entire summer at NetSecure. I’ve already made a couple of payments on my student loan.”
“Money’s not always the answer,” Dick yelled.
“If the question is how do I establish life as an independent adult who doesn’t need to ask her sister for lunch money, then yes, money is the answer,” I shot back.
“Also, I don’t know if she should pay any mind to the man who slips twenties into my pocket when I hug him!” Nola called.
Dick poked his head out of the storeroom. “We agreed to pretend that doesn’t happen!”
Laughing, I shuffled through the stack of books on the table. I couldn’t help but feel I was missing something. I was approaching the problem all wrong, but I couldn’t figure out why. I stood up from the table and wandered into Jane’s magic section. Nola carefully vetted all of Jane’s magic texts, for fear of providing the wrong book to an irresponsible practitioner. All of the “dangerous” books were kept in a special storage case, for which Jane had the only key. But those titles were more along the lines of How to Flay Your Enemy Alive with Your Thoughts and Magical Exsanguination for Fun and Profit. Not exactly the droids I was looking for.
I needed to spend more time around non-nerds.
I tapped my fingers along the spines as I scanned the titles in the magical history section. Witches of Salem: Fact and Fiction, History’s Most Disappointing Magical Politicians, Sorcerers of the Ancient Egyptian Royal Court, and at the end of the shelf, bottom row, Magickal Families of the Old World.
Unlike the slick, soft-covered editions on the shelf, the book was old, battered, and bound in mottled blue linen. The gold lettering was practically worn off the cover. Jane would consider this book gently loved. I opened it and scanned the pages, which listed the most prominent European magical families by country, how they started, and what they were up to at the time of the 1912 printing date. It was sort of funny that this was basically the same thing we were doing for the vampires, just the old, dusty beta version. (I would never ever let Jane hear me say such a thing.) A piece of information floated up to the surface of my brain.
Renart.
According to the Council records, the Renart family started in France, and its members were interesting enough to be on a Council “watch list.” I flipped to the index, looking for the Rs. The Renart family was listed on page 326, and it merited several paragraphs:
Known for their memory charms and ability to persuade those around them through creative cursework, the Renarts lived quite comfortably in Haute-Normandie for generations. Members of the family were rumored to have dabbled in necromancy toward the end of the eighteenth century, ostracizing them from the magickal community. The family moved to the Louisiana territory under enormous pressure from other magickal families and disappeared into the mundane populations of America.
Mundane? That was unnecessarily hurtful.
The colorful surroundings of the shop, my friends’ voices, everything faded away as I tried to connect all the dots in my head. So the Renarts messed around with necromancy and got booted out of an entire continent. Somehow they were connected to this Linoge character and his violent outbursts. Did messing around with vampires’ brains count as necromancy? Violent outbursts, memory issues . . . Nik. This had to be connected to Nik’s fugue states. If Marie Renart, the first in the line of Renarts, was Linoge’s girlfriend, she could have diddled with his brain so he had violent feeding episodes he couldn’t remember. Could one of Renart’s descendants have messed with Nik’s brain? Had it happened here or while he was traveling? What were the parameters of the curse?
I pulled out my phone and opened the photo I’d taken of the Renart watch list. It ended in 1968 with the birth of a Jennifer Renart in Paris, Illinois, a tiny town only two hours’ drive from the Hollow, but there was no date of death listed. Had Jennifer managed to shake her vampire tail and die a peaceful, unobserved death? What had happened to the last Renart?
Jane carefully cleared her throat, peering over the top of the bookshelf at me while she stirred her bloodychino. “There’s another option you haven’t considered.”
“Does it avoid an explanation in which someone is sneaking into Nik’s room every night to steal his hair? Because I will jump on it,” I told her.
“Cooperation,” Jane said gently. “What if Nik isn’t as magically manipulated as he seems to be?”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know, plausible deniability? He doesn’t want to admit that he’s involved, so he uses the ‘Oh, I don’t remember, baby, I was under an evil curse’ excuse. So he gets whatever rewards are involved in doing his master’s bidding plus whatever, er, rewards, you might be giving him.”
“I refuse to accept that Nik is knowingly involved in all this,” I told Jane sternly. “Besides, you were the one who said he doesn’t want to hurt me.”
“From what I could see, he doesn’t,” she said, throwing her hands up. “But as Miss Worst-Case Scenario, I am pathologically required to put that out there. I just want you to be careful, Geeg, that’s all. You’re one of the last remaining humans in our little family. I want to do whatever we can to protect you.”
“Well, I appreciate it, but cut it out.”
Jane nodded. “Duly noted.”
“And while we’re on the subject of office awkwardness, we found this for you,” Andrea said, handing me a paperback with a stark black, white, and red cover.
“The Office After Dark: A Guide to Maintaining a Safe, Productive Vampire Workplace,” I murmured. Almost every subject in the table of contents pertained to my workplace issues: “Dealing with hostile, fanged supervisors,” “How to report issues with human coworkers without looking like a vampire pet wannabe,” and “Personal safety at the office.” I turned on Jane. “You couldn’t have given this to me a few weeks ago?”
“Honestly, we didn’t think you’d need it. We thought you would adjust better to the undead work environment,” she said, making Andrea snort.
“That’s not funny,” I told all three women as they laughed at me.
“It’s a little funny!” Jamie yelled from the back of the shop.
• • •
I arrived home a bit later to find Iris in full preparation for date night. She and Cal were going to try a new vampire-friendly dinner theater in Murphy. They hadn’t had an evening alone since I’d moved back home with all of my, well, let’s just say issues. I was actually looking forward to having the place to myself for the evening, and not just because I felt so profoundly guilty for intruding on their marriage to the point where they had to schedule time together. I was planning to veg out, eat some of the Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food I’d saved for a special occasion, and tend to some much-needed personal grooming that I’d neglected over the past few weeks. There would be plucking, moisturizing, and exfoliating. A lot of exfoliating.
“Gigi,” Cal said, his tone far too casual as he stepped into the hallway, struggling with his necktie. “You’re home on time.”
“Yes, and I was exactly where I said I was, all night. There was no reason for Iris to call the bookshop to check on me,” I said, gently batting his hands away so I could fix his tie. And yes, I had no right to be indignant when I had, in fact, lied to him about being with my coworkers when I was with Nik the night before. But I’d worry about that when and if he ever found out about it.
“I wasn’t checking up on you. I needed to check with Jane about . . . business-related things,” Iris called from the bathroom, where she was carefully brushing out her coffee-colored curls.
“Smooth, Iris, really smooth,” I called back. “Look, I get that you guys are worried. And I know it comes from a place of concern. I love you, and I appreciate that you want me to be safe.”
Cal pursed his lips. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“Yes, as in, I’m going to kick your butt if you don’t stop treating me like a little girl.”
Cal wrapped his arms around my shoulders, resting his chin on top of my head. “I won’t apologize. I love you as much as any brother could. I worry for you every time you step out the door. I feel pride every time I hear someone at the office talk about the fantastic work you’re doing. And I want to murder every single male who looks in your direction, even if it’s an old friend. I know that we’ve embarrassed you and made things difficult. I don’t want to cause you distress. But I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it makes you temporarily unhappy.”
“I know.” I sighed. “I know you love me. And I forgive you for the embarrassment and unhappiness.”
“Thank you,” he murmured into my hair.
“Eventually,” I added.
“I knew that was coming.” He sighed.
“Is Nik really so bad?” I asked.
“Under normal circumstances, I would say no,” Cal said. “But I’m having a hard time looking past the lurking and the lunging.”
“So, if we were able to determine why Nik is attacking me and put a stop to it, you would be OK with me dating him?”
There was a long moment of silence above my head, making me look up at my brother-in-law. He was chewing on his lip and had a spacey trying-to-do-long-division-in-his-head expression on his face.
“Cal?”
“I’m trying to find a way to answer that question that won’t result in you chasing after a ‘cure’ for Nik’s condition or Iris being upset with me for letting you date a man hundreds of years your senior.”
I squirmed guiltily in his arms, because I was already chasing after a cure for Nik, and Iris was going to be upset with Cal any way he answered the question. I felt another pair of arms sliding around my waist and Iris’s head settling against my shoulder.
“Oh, good, we’re hugging again.” She sighed. “I really hate it when we disagree, Gigi. And unlike Cal, I will apologize for making you unhappy. I’ve just been responsible for you for so long I’m having a hard time adjusting to the idea that you’ve grown up.”
I turned my head and kissed Iris’s forehead. “It’s OK, Iris. I love you, too.” Both vampires squeezed me simultaneously, which was enough to make me wheeze and cough. “Ribs cracking!”
Iris sprang back while Cal raised his arms. I finally got a good look at Iris’s apricot-colored sheath dress and her sky-high Iron Fist heels imprinted with little peaches and skulls. It was a far cry from the sensible, stain-proof outfits she’d worn as a human. “Wow, you look hot, Iris! And that’s ‘hawt’ with a ‘w,’ like the young people are saying these days.”
Iris preened while Cal gave a low whistle. “Well, you don’t have to sound so surprised.”
“I’m not. I’m wondering if I would finally have the coordination and ankle strength required to wear platform heels if I get turned.”
“Don’t even joke about that, Geeg.”
“I’m just saying. My shoe collection could use some perking up.”
“I will buy you some wedges,” Iris told me. “You could always come with us tonight, you know.”
“Because me joining you on your date night isn’t pathetic or counterproductive at all. You’ve had these plans for a week,” I told her. “Just go. I am going to take a bath, indulge in total control over the TV, and catch up on some sleep. These night hours are really getting to me.”
Iris made a motherly clucking noise, cupping her hands under my chin so she could check for dark circles under my eyes. “Poor thing. Well, enjoy your vegging. I have lip gloss to apply.”
She strolled across the slick polished floor with far more grace than I could imagine in my lifetime. Cal, I noticed, was watching her, too, but in a lecherous manner. I slapped his chest. “Dude. That’s my sister.”
He scoffed. “That’s my wife. I get to ogle; it was in the vows.”
I shuddered. “Gross.”
• • •
I stood at the door and waved as Iris and Cal pulled out of the driveway. The moon shone brightly over the gardens, casting long, eerie shadows through the flowers. My phone beeped from my purse. I locked the door and armed the security system before grabbing it. I had a text notification from a number I didn’t recognize. Hope you have a nice weekend. Big plans?
The area code was local, but it could have been a wrong number, so I ignored it.
I jogged up the steps to my room and the phone beeped again. No plans?
“Let’s see, girl home alone, mysterious text messages from an unknown party, there’s no way this is the opening setup for a creepy serial-killer movie,” I muttered, dropping my phone onto my dresser. “I will not engage in your potentially deadly mind-buggery, sir.”
I double-checked the security system, though, just in case. I indulged in a long, hot bath, swirling with essential oils Iris had pressed from her own garden, rosemary and geranium and calendula. I soaked until I was as limp as a noodle, with not one thought of my tragic personal and professional lives. I gave myself a pineapple enzyme facial, pumiced my feet and elbows, and shaved everything worth shaving. By the time I slid into my pajamas, I was smooth and sweet-smelling.
I walked into my bedroom and found another text waiting for me. Are you there, Gigi?
So, not a wrong number, then. Who would be texting me from a number I didn’t recognize? I was ruthless about updating my contacts. I even had Ophelia saved under “Evil Empress.”
Could it be Nik? He’d “confessed” that he had a cell phone, but he’d never given me his number. I would consider that a red flag, trust-wise, but I never needed to call him. He always just popped up whenever I needed him. The texts didn’t sound like him. They lacked his flirty wit. But a lot of people didn’t sound like themselves in text speak, right?
Cautiously, I picked up the phone and typed in a message that wouldn’t be embarrassing, in case it turned out to be a polite catching-up text from Pastor Neely, who was not saved in my contact list. No big plans. You?
Hoping I hadn’t just made an enormous mistake in terms of horror-movie survival, I popped in the latest remake of The Lone Ranger. It had nothing to do with the fact that the guy who played the lead looked a lot like Nik, thank you very much. I climbed into bed and formed a nest of pillows for the perfect loafing position. My phone beeped again. No, but maybe we can change that?
I smiled. That did sound like Nik. I lay there, snuggled against my pillows, trying to think of a saucy but appropriately hard-to-get reply. But my eyes were so heavy that I was on the verge of falling asleep. It was just after midnight and I was struggling to stay awake. It might have seemed like a sad, lonely way to spend a Saturday night. But after weeks of being crammed into my office with three other people, plus the joys of being smothered by a large, loud vampire clan, the solitude was almost blissful. And quiet, so very quiet. I was drifting into that twilight haze between sleep and waking.
I started awake at the sound of tapping on glass. I lifted my head from the pillow, blinking rapidly. The rapping sounded again, and I opened the curtains to find Nik sitting on the planter box outside my window. And he had a bunch of sunflowers in his hand, tied with a blue gingham ribbon.
Definitely an upgrade from creepy serial killer.
“What are you doing?” I asked, as he climbed through the window casing and dropped into a dramatic kneel. He presented the flowers with a flourish.
“I figured if we were going to impersonate Romeo and Juliet, we should give it our all.”
“Yeah, ’cause their story ended well.” I snickered, pressing my face against the waxy petals. Thanks to growing up with Iris, I knew that giving someone sunflowers symbolized adoration and warm feelings, and that knowledge made my heart race.
“I know that you are surrounded by blossoms,” he said, gesturing out the window toward Iris’s garden. “But I thought you should have flowers of your own, something that bloomed in the sun. And if your sister asks, you received them from a computer-software company that is trying to seduce you into their ranks.”
I shivered a little when he said the word “seduce.” I couldn’t help it. I dare any card-carrying red-blooded woman to hear Nikolai Dragomirov pronounce the word “seduce” without giggling and blushing. “That’s very cute,” I told him, as he nuzzled my neck. “I can’t believe I just snuck you into my room like a fifteen-year-old. Again. This is becoming a terrible habit.”
“Believe it or not, my Gigi, I have never done this for another girl.”
“You’re right, I don’t believe you’ve never done this before.”
“Well, my experience is more related to escaping down a trellis while an unsuspecting husband or father came through the front door,” he admitted, gently dropping the flowers to my desk.
My head dropped to his shoulder. “Why do you tell me these things?”
“It never occurred to me not to,” he said, sliding his fingertips along the waistband of my pajama pants.
“And that’s what frightens me.”
He turned me so my back was pressed against his chest, toying with the tie of my pants.
“Why are you here, Nik?”
“I thought I had just made that pretty clear,” he said, nipping at my lips. I smacked his shoulder. “I wanted to see you. I have missed you desperately, to the detriment of my dignity. It is shameful. All of the other vampires have been mocking me.”
“That’s very sweet,” I said, kissing him. “And since you were so shamelessly honest about your motives, there is this one really dirty fantasy I’ve always had.”
His tawny eyes went wide and, dare I say it, hopeful. “What is that?”
“Having sex in my own bed,” I said, running my lips along the hollow of his throat. “In my own house.” I bit his collarbone lightly, barely enough to make a mark on his skin but enough to make him moan and clutch at my back. “Without worrying about being quiet.”
He frowned. “In terms of fantasies, that is not terribly dirty.”
“Well, you try living on nothing but furtive backseat gropings and stolen moments in communal dorm rooms. Being as loud as you want on an actual mattress will sound downright decadent.”
He laughed but cut it short when the implication of what I’d said landed. “So I take it you have done this before?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
There was no way I was going to answer that, because I didn’t want my ex-boyfriend dead.
“And as a subquestion, am I asking you questions about the legions of ladies who rolled through your sheets over the years?”
“No, you are not,” he acknowledged. “So I suppose it would be petty of me to begrudge you an inexperienced and no doubt inadequate partner.” He cleared his throat, glancing at Ben’s picture. “It is just the one inexperienced and inadequate partner, right?” He winced as I elbowed him in the stomach and immediately changed his tone to one of cheerful interest. “So how does this fantasy of yours start out?”
“With some white-hot, hard-core . . .” I paused to nip at his chin. “Making out.”
“That I can do.”
Nik pressed me back on the bed, trailing his fingers down my ribs over my tank top. His mouth skimmed between my breasts and down the line of my bared stomach, leaving a cool, wet line of sensation in its wake. He nibbled a ring around my belly button while tugging down my pajama pants. Then he worked his way back up my body, pausing to trace the inner curve of each breast with his tongue before latching on to my mouth. He kissed me over and over until my lips were swollen and tender, never once letting his fangs scrape my flesh.
“You know, I do not think I have ever simply ‘made out’ with a human,” he whispered, kissing the tip of my nose. “It has always led to more.”
“Well, then it will be a night of mind-blowing firsts for both of us.”
Waggling his eyebrows, he spread my legs wide, settling between them and wrapping my thighs snugly around his hips. After pulling my tank over my head, he worried the line of my jaw with his blunt teeth. That nagging concern that he would lose control was there, tickling at the corner of my brain. But he was just so damn good with his hands, playing my body like a well-tuned violin, that I was able to willfully ignore that concern.
I unsnapped his jeans and slid them over his hips, pushing them down his thighs with my feet. My eyes went wide at the sight of what had only been hinted at during the previous session on the couch.
Whoa. Ben had been a pretty healthy size, but this—this was a bit more, well, just more. Though I belonged to the One Penis Club, I was proud that I knew how to handle the single “member” I’d had contact with. Still, Nik looked as if he might be a bit outside my skill level. What if I couldn’t please him? He’d been with more women than I cared to count over the years, women who probably knew tricks, and all I knew how to do was—
“We will figure it out,” Nik murmured against my neck, as if he could read the apprehensive thoughts bouncing around my head. His hands worked over my body, rubbing and teasing, until I felt like a puddle of melted caramel on the mattress.
Did we have melted caramel in the kitchen? It was an intriguing image.
But all thoughts of dessert-topped vampires were dashed when Nik knelt between my legs, wedging his knees under my tailbone.
“Keep your hands right there,” he told me, curling my hands around the spokes of my headboard. “And make as much noise as you want.”
I snickered, nuzzling his temple. I could feel Nik between my thighs, testing and stroking, spreading the warm wetness that flowed between us over his length. Then he drove into me, smooth and slick, and even though I was ready, the sensation of being stretched made me cry out. He stopped, eyes focused on my face. I nodded, and he very slowly canted his hips.
I tilted my head back against the pillow, settling into the rhythm and enjoying the opportunity to yip, yell, and moan as loudly as I wanted without fear of being overheard. I clutched at his shoulders, clinging to him as he rose to his knees, settling me against his thighs.
I rolled my hips, keening at the delicious friction of this new angle. His forehead pressed against mine, and he panted along with me, even though he didn’t need to breathe. I ran my hands along his long, toned back, my fingertips memorizing every vertebra and scar.
His hand slid up my neck, brushing his thumb across my earring. His eyes went smoky blue, and his mouth moved, as if he was trying to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. I clasped his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. His eyes cleared as I shook his head slightly. “Nik?”
He ducked his head, kissing me and thrusting up, making me shudder. He moved over me, faster and faster, until I could only hold on as he manipulated my hips. And I took full advantage of being able to scream.
• • •
I scampered up the stairs in Nik’s shirt and my socks, a trail of acrid smoke following me to the second floor.
Nik came running out of my bedroom, yanking on his jeans. “Gigi!” he called over the howl of the smoke alarm as I waved the smoldering bag of microwave popcorn around like a smudge stick. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t want Iris and Cal to know you’ve been in the house!” I said, the last word coming out far too loudly as he disabled the alarm. “So I’m employing a little olfactory camouflage.”
“I do not know whether to be afraid or impressed with your level of tactical thinking,” he said, pressing one of my shirts over his nose to protect himself from the smoking popcorn stink-bomb in my hand.
“You should be a little of both!” After waving the bag around my room a few rounds, I took it back downstairs and tossed it off the back porch. I found Nik in my room with his head sticking out the open window. “Sorry, it’s a little strong.”
“That is one of the worst smells in the world,” he said, waving his hand in front of his face. “And I lived in an era without indoor plumbing.”
“Ew.” I shook my head as I flopped into my bed. Nik crawled in next to me, pulling me against his side.
“I hate that we have to go to extremes to hide this from your family,” he said, running his thumb along my bottom lip.
“Hey, I almost got Cal to admit that he would be OK with us seeing each other without the threat of you killing me. I consider that progress.”
“You, sladkaya, have a low standard for progress.”
“Speaking of which, what was that earlier?” I asked. “Your eyes glazed over blue, and you looked a little bit like when you go into your zombie state. But you were still you, and you didn’t try to bite me, so again, progress. What did you see?”
He stroked a finger over the moonstones at my earlobes. “I remember buying the earrings. After I kissed you—”
“And ran away like a big coward.”
“You are going to have to let that go.”
I shook my head. “Not anytime soon.”
He cleared his throat. “After I kissed you and you left, I circled back to the store and bought them. Because they made you smile, and I wanted to give you something that would make you smile. In all the time I watched you, I did not think you smiled enough. I went to your house and left them on your porch, where you could find them. My only regret was that I would not be able to see you open them—mmph.”
I cut him off, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He remembered! I was practically climbing the man. He remembered the moment that had meant so much to me. It wasn’t just in my head. I wasn’t alone in this relationship.
“If I had known you would react this way, I would have fondled your earrings much earlier.”
“I thought I was going crazy,” I whispered. “I thought my weird brain had made it all up.”
“You are not crazy,” he promised me. “If either of us is insane, it is the one with the large gaps in his memory.”
“Mmm, good point.” For a moment, I considered telling him about my research into his curse. But I didn’t want to get his hopes up, and I didn’t want him to warn me away. I didn’t want to hear that I was too young, too inexperienced, too human to find a solution to the problem.
He pulled his shirt on and kissed me. “We will talk soon. But for now, I am going to dive out of your window like an Olympic medalist.” When I made another pouty face, he added, “Unless, of course, you would like me to stay, and we can explain this to Iris and Cal.”
I bit my bottom lip for a moment before planting a kiss on his. “Try to clear the rosebushes.”