Chapter One – Tindra
Finally, a free day.
Tindra sat at the back of the group of gathered humans, flipping through the last comic book she had brought with her. If she had known that she was going to end up going all the way through the selection process, she would have brought more books with her. As it was, she had read through every issue twice and was now just looking for evidence to back up her theory that the main villain was actually the heroine's long-lost brother.
She glanced to the front of the large hall where several vampires milled about – well, held the gangs of men and women from rushing onto the stage and raiding the waiting rooms where the vampires were waiting to choose. She shook her head, her brown hair flopping into her eyes, and went back to reading her comic.
It was great fortune to be in the running to be chosen as a vampire's companion. It only happened once every five years, and there was a stringent application process. Tindra had no desire to go live in the glittering halls herself. She only signed up because her boss was an A-hole who refused to let his employees off work for a full twenty-four hour period. However, he was recently reimbursed for lost wages, so he had practically shoved the applications into his female employees' hands.
Just the women. Never mind the fact that several of the vampires were looking for men as their companions.
A sudden scream went up in the crowded room and Tindra winced. Her view of the stage was blocked, so she stood on her chair to look over the heads of the people. A soft gasp escaped her lips. The prince himself had stepped onto the stage. Tindra had seen him multiple times on the television and in the news. She'd never heard any rumors about him with any companions, though. Had he decided to choose a mate?
Vampires don't mate humans, she reminded herself. They have companions to give them blood and sex and whatever, but not mates.
The prince was handsome – if a bit too clean-cut for her tastes. He had the aura of a man who was perfectly groomed, from his hairless chin to his tailored suit. He muttered to a guard next to him, and that vampire directed other guards into the crowd. They checked the application tags from several women and led them onto the stage.
One of the guards stopped right in front of her and held out his hand. "May I see your card?"
Tindra stared blankly at him.
"To check your orientation." He flashed her a dazzling smile that revealed two long, curved fangs. Like on a saber-toothed tiger, only small enough to be hidden when his mouth was closed. They were beautiful, in an exotic sort of way.
Silently, Tindra handed him her card, where "men" was clearly checked off. She had thought about checking all the boxes as a joke, but at this moment she was glad she hadn't. Imagine having to explain that to the prince, of all people!
The guard offered her his arm, and she took it. A few faces in the crowd glowered at her as men and women both pressed in on them, shouting for the prince to choose them instead. One woman was actually carried out of the hall as she spat curses and threats out at the others taken up onto the stage. Tindra soon found herself with the other women, facing the prince. His nostrils flared as he looked at them.
His gaze locked on the comic book still in her hand and then moved to her neck. Nostrils still flaring, he leaned in close and took a strand of her hair to sniff. With a nod and smile of satisfaction, he took her hand.
"You are perfect."
"What?" the woman beside her shouted. "Her? She has a man's body! Look at her. She doesn't even have any breasts. Wouldn't you rather have these?"
She thrust out her chest, making what must have been triple-Ds wobble dangerously. Tindra stared, fighting the urge to clasp her hands over her own small chest. Were they real? How much pudding would she have to eat to get breasts that size?
The prince ignored the woman. He wrapped an arm around Tindra's waist and led her from the stage as the crowd burst into noise.
The noise cut out as they entered a back room. Several more vampires waited, and a few of them eyed her with interest. She clutched her comic to her chest, then suddenly realized she had left her backpack. With a gasp, she pulled away and turned – but the guard coming after them had it with him.
"Thanks," she said, taking it.
"What's your name?" the prince asked her as he continued to guide her away.
"Tindra. Like Tundra only with an I instead of a U."
He nodded. "And I'm Thor."
"Yeah. I know. The prince."
Soon, they were outside, and a guard opened the door to a limo for her. She slid in and had to stifle a gasp. Sitting inside was the manliest man she had ever seen. Jeans and a worn leather jacket, five o'clock shadow, long black hair pulled back and tied with a leather string. His eyes were dark and piercing as they glanced over her. Unlike a lot of the vampires, his skin had a well-tanned look. It went well with his strong jaw and high cheekbones. Tindra nearly forgot how to move as she slumped into a seat, staring at him.
Why couldn't he have chosen her instead of the prince?
Realization suddenly hit her. Oh, god . . . The prince had chosen her. She had just gone along without a protest, but she couldn’t do this. She couldn't go be his companion in the palace! What about her job . . . which she hated. Or her family . . . who she avoided most times because talking to them was like shooting her self-esteem in the foot.
"Isn't this one a bit old for you?" the manly vampire asked in a cool tone.
"Old?" Yeah, maybe she had a few silvers in her hair and faint laugh-lines around her eyes. But that certainly didn't make her old, especially not in vampire terms! Her hands clenched and she almost poked him in the chest. "Lookit here, buster. I'm only thirty, and if that's old to a thousand-year-old vamp, then maybe that's your problem—"
Her eyes widened as the vampire arched a brow at her. Recognition hit her in the stomach like a fist as he turned his face fully to her. Rollon. The king. The freaking vampire king. And she had called him Buster. Heat rushed to her face and she shrunk back from him.
"Sorry!" she blurted. "Oh, sorry your highness. Majesty? Your kingship? Uh . . . sorry. I didn't realize it was you. You usually shave before a press conference and the clothes are . . . Well, you look great, but they're not what I would expect a king to wear and—"
Rollon raised a hand, and she fell silent at once. Her face burned and she wondered just how badly she'd be injured if she crawled out of the window. Given that they were driving down the street with a plethora of guarded vehicles around them, probably quite a bit. Hopefully a nice coma. The king's dark gaze stayed on her, stilling her.
"I understand that this is a new situation for you," he said calmly. "And that is why I will tolerate that attitude from you this once. But only this once. Understood? Companion to my son or not, I will not be spoken to disrespectfully."
Tindra nodded meekly. She shot a look at Thor, who stared out the window with a small smile. Was this his idea of a joke? And him being Rollon's son . . . They looked more like brothers. If she had to hazard a guess, Rollon was probably about her age when he was turned into a vampire.
"Thor?" Rollon glanced at him. "Do you have anything to say?"
The prince shrugged. "I'll teach her the correct behavior, Dad."
Dad. That sounded weird coming from a prince. How old was he again? For the life of her, she couldn't remember.
"Good," the king said.
"But I think you might need to be more tolerant of her regardless. Tindra here doesn’t look like she has great social skills."
Tindra almost asked if it was because of her comic but bit her tongue. The truth of the matter was she didn't have that great of social skills. She was into geek culture, something that always seemed to be highly unsuitable for women like her – the Plain Jane types who picked plaid shirts and jeans over high heels and pink dresses.
"It was against my better judgment to let my son claim a companion among the common, but I suppose you're pretty enough to do." Rollon's eyes ran down her figure. "At least you will be once you're in more feminine clothing and someone brushes your hair."
She didn't respond to that, crossing her arms over her chest. As the buildings zipped by, she turned her mind to her parents. How was she supposed to explain to them that she had been whisked away by the vampire prince? What were they going to say? Would they insist on her bringing him to visit or that she leave at once before he could 'ruin' her more than she already was?
And thinking of that . . . What was going to happen once they were in the palace? Would he expect her to be his blood-filled blowup doll?
Thor reached across the limo and grasped her by the waist. He pulled her between himself and his father. Too close to both of them for comfort. One arm remained around her waist while the other took her hand in his.
"You don't have to be afraid," he said, smiling. "Everything is going to be perfect."
Tindra forced herself to nod. The only question was, what was his definition of perfect?