Just One Taste (3 page)

“What?” He sounds distracted.

“Trying to figure this out isn’t fun anymore and we’ve got people arriving in,” I cut my eyes down again to my watch, “thirty minutes. I can switch the MacKellans down one room, but we’ve got to move pronto. This guy’s going to start to stink soon and we need to make a good impression on the new arrivals.”

Pressure builds in my chest.

Rafe takes out a utility knife from the back of his slacks. I swear he would have made a great Boy Scout. He’s always so damn prepared.

“Are we agreed? I cut the carpet up and roll him inside?” He notices my gimlet stare. “Hey, I’m only asking because I don’t want you getting pissy with me if I cut it without checking.”

Pissy is a nice way to say bitchy, but I’m okay with it.

“No, you’re right. It’s ruined. Put him in one of the sheds outside, lock it up and we’ll talk again later about what to do.” The body will freeze solid out there in a few hours, but at least no one will smell him.

Rafe zips up the blade, jumps over the corpse, and lands light. He cuts a big rectangle into the rug and padding, starting about two feet out from the stain. Quick and sure, his movements accentuate a natural grace, one that flips all my switches.

A familiar wetness gathers in my panties while watching the muscles in his back work under his tight blue polo. The blood in the room arouses the predator in me, and due to my advanced age, it’s not blood I crave but sex. I remind myself,
again
, to stop breathing.

If I’m not careful to keep my thoughts tightly bound, Rafe will see the erotic image running through my mind of his bare shoulders between my thighs. I experience an all-over body shiver trying to pull myself together.

He looks up with a small smile on his face. Damn it, he saw.

“You’re a bad girl, you know that?”

“And you love it,” I purr.

He rolls the body in the carpet and hefts it over his shoulder in one smooth move. My gaze drops to his chest. Yum… his shirt shows off his definition nicely. My tongue snakes out to wet my lips. Good God, is it hot in here or is it me?

“Yeah, I do. I’ll deal with you later.” He winks. “Save your sexiness for the customers. They feed off you when you do. You exude sex.”

Our inn is renowned for helping to reveal hidden fantasies and bring them to the surface. It’s one of the big reasons clients come back again and again. That and the fantastic sex they all have when they’re here as a result.

I stick my lip out in a pout. “Fine, but dead body or no dead body, I want you later. Better not tire yourself out… I have plans.”

He chuckles as he walks out the door.
I’m sure you do, Dria, I’m sure you do.

Once he leaves, and takes the main source of blood with him, I take a deep cleansing lungful of air. I smack my palm to my forehead. Wake up! Shake it off!

Smoothing the fabric of the dress over my stomach and hips, I decide I’m as ready as I’ll ever be
.
I leave, re-locking the door behind me. Glancing at my wrist, I note it’s twenty-two minutes until the new group arrives. Then it’s
show time!

My black spike heels sink into the carpet runner as I head down the hall. I stop in front of room seven and open the door, leaning in to check. Smelling nothing more than clean linens, furniture polish, and the lingering human scent of the maids, I move on.

Dria, it’s done. The body is locked up in the small shed in the hot tub grotto. No one else has a key except Jonathan.

Jonathan, our head groundskeeper, is quite a unique man with very tasty blood. We have formed a connection because of it, though nothing like my mate bond with Rafe. My relationship with Jonathan is one of servant and vampire master. I trust him because of this bond and plan to inform him of our little problem in the shed when we speak next.

Good job. Thanks, my love. I’m checking the other rooms on this floor before I greet the new group.

Any clues so far, my little super sleuth?
I think I can hear him laughing at me again.

Nothing yet, smart ass, but give me a chance to look
. I end our connection and continue down the hall. Boy, he’s efficient. It’s only been a couple of minutes since he left with the body.

Right now, I’m in the north wing of the inn, on the second floor, which contains rooms six through ten. These suites don’t have themes like the ten rooms on the third floor do. The level I like to think of as the “fun” floor. Those larger rooms don’t hold guests for their entire stay; they are reserved for daily use by guests willing to pay an extra fee.

I inspect room eight then move on to the next door, which I unlock and open in a single motion. Nothing appears out of place. I turn to continue when a small noise from behind pulls me around. One of the maids, a young local woman of Inuit Indian heritage, walks toward me.

“Hello, Iona, how are you?” I’ve never been an uppity boss; I know every one of our employees by name.

“Hi, Vivian, I’m good.” She greets me with a warm smile. “Are you doing a last-minute check before the next bunch?”

My real name is Alexandria, but Iona, like everyone else since the day the sign for The V V Inn went up, calls me Vivian. Iona’s worked here about a year and has proven herself to be an incredibly organized woman. She’s one of the few employees not imported from another state or country. Her family resides in the nearby town, Dead Foot, with a population of only a few hundred.

“Yes,” I answer, “but I’m also up here because of an issue in room six. How long have you been on this floor today?”

Iona looks at me with a question in her eyes, probably wondering about what issue I’m referring to, but she answers quickly enough.

“I was up here with a team of three and we all left before noon.”

“Did you see any guests in this wing?”

“No,” she answers.

“What brought you back up here?”

“I’m doing a walk-through to check on the items the MacKellans requested.”

“Ah yes, the six-pack of Perrier and the
Moét et Chandon
White Star. That would be in the mini-fridge in room seven?” She nods in agreement. “I’ll check for it on my return through the floor.” She hesitates in leaving, like she has something to say.

“Thanks, Iona. We would’ve appeared unprofessional if we’d missed those,” I add, hoping to ease her into telling me what is on her mind.

She blushes from the acknowledgement. Iona’s attractive and the extra flush of color draws my eye to her robust good health. She looks me straight in the eye—a blatant invite in the supernatural community toward a vampire. I draw in my breath, surprised.

Iona knows a little about what goes on here. Most all of my employees do. But they’re not normally involved in the fantasies of the guests so their knowledge is sketchy. The workers do talk though, and many of them have donated blood for our virile customers.

I have a secondary trait that helps me with the clientele. It’s not as strong as my ability to project illusions, but it increases with use. I can read desires through a touch.

My hand makes contact with Iona’s starched uniform shirt and I slip into her mind. Her desires tumble close to the surface, like rainbow-colored snakes. Touching on a sliding thought, I see she hopes to be chosen to donate blood. Iona holds no hint of fear, even though she’s aware most of our guests are bloodsuckers. And she feels a strong family tie to me. In her mind, I’m like a great-aunt, one who holds a position of respect and kindness in her heart.

“Are you sure donating is a step you want to take?” I ask.

“Yes, very much so,” she says with sincerity.

When she stared into my eyes, she had innocently offered herself to me, unaware that I do not normally feed from employees.

“Iona, it would be with the guests, not with me. Is that still acceptable?”

She again holds my gaze a little too long. “Yes.”

“Sometimes it can lead to a more intimate encounter but only if you want it to. I make sure the guests know ahead of time how far you’re willing to take it.”

“I’m ready.” Her voice sounds firm, certain. “My grandmother was Junee.”

Ah, that’s why this strong Inuit woman seems so positive in her choice. Junee worked for us when we first opened our doors twenty years ago. She was an open and loving woman who enjoyed her position here for ten years.

I’ve placed a compulsion on all the workers during their employment—they can share details of sexual acts, but not of the blood donation. When they leave, I take care of the rest of the details during a specialized exit interview.

“Yes, my great aunt spoke of her very well,” I say, keeping to the ruse “my aunt” ran the inn first. The employees tell a tale every fifteen to eighteen years that’s kept us safe. After the original founder retired, then a niece and her husband ran it, and now it’s Rafe and me. I’ve inserted this belief with care into the minds of all who have worked for me while blurring our images a bit in the old employees’ memories so they think they see a family resemblance rather than realizing we’re the same people.

“Very well,” I decide. “You’ll be put on the next list. Please review the guests and tell Tommy your choices this evening. Pick ones you like, and remember, it’s supposed to be fun.” I say the last part with a wicked smile on my face. “Don’t forget to tell him your limits,” I wink.

I have a hunch Iona will choose a female vampire. Those long stares were quite bold and while she caught me off guard, I’m guessing they had true intent behind them. Time will tell.

“Thank you, Vivian. I’ve been dreaming of this moment since the first week I started here.”

Gee, no pressure there. Iona throws me a beaming smile before turning to rush back down the hall. Let’s hope the experience mirrors her dreams. To ensure it, I make a mental note to supervise part of her blood donation.

Continuing my original journey to check the rest of the rooms in this wing, I make a detour on my return to check the items in the mini-fridge. All appears as it should, with the rooms ready and waiting. I leave the wing through the French doors and out to the bookcase-lined loft circling the vaulted lobby.

I descend one side of the winding, dual staircase to the main floor to see Tommy working on the computer. Tommy’s our imported Aussie, who’s lived and worked on the property for five years. He glances up from his usual spot behind the front desk with a big smile on his face. Residing on the resort comes with perks, and Tommy’s ever hopeful he’ll be put on the donor list when he sees me.

“G’day, Vivian, aren’t you looking good today?” His smile turns lecherous while I slowly run my hands over my hips and grin in return.

“When do I not look good, Tommy?” Modesty has never been my forte.

“Too true,” he replies. I drop my hands and he’s back to business in an instant, which is why he’s paid so well. “Isn’t the MacKellan party due in next?”

“Yes,” I answer. “Move them down one to rooms seven, eight and nine now. We had an issue with the rug in room six, which won’t be available until new carpet can be installed.” I project honesty and sincerity and Tommy doesn’t bat an eye.

“You got it, Viv, no worries.” He taps the changes into the keyboard and hands me a new file—which reminds me of some investigating I need to do. Damn that bloody corpse!

“Tommy, have the Salvador and Natsuhara files sent to my suite in an hour, please.”

He taps his fingers a few more times before glancing up.

“Yes, ma'am. Consider it done.”

I keep files on all our guests. The MacKellans are new so their file is thin. Checking it over, I confirm some details in my mind, placing names at the ready to match with faces when they arrive. MacKellan is the family, or
seethe,
named after the head vamp in the group. Individuals go only by first name unless conducting business outside of the seethe, and they all use the same surname. This convention makes it appear like the group is a big extended family, even though no one is related.

The MacKellan group is a party of five—three vamps, one mate, and a companion. Which is a fairly big vampire party for us. Max we usually see is two. Not many in a seethe choose to vacation with another vamp tagging along. I’m glad to note they will need additional sustenance while staying with us, though. One extra companion for food won’t be enough with two younger vamps in attendance.

Staying up around the clock requires additional feedings for our kind. Even I need a full feeding of a single pint each month with the added strain on my system. Normally, the sips I take from my husband a few times a week would be enough to keep me satisfied, but here in the dark winter wilderness, I need more.

“Let me know if you feel like being a donor this week with our new guests,” I direct Tommy. “You can be at the top of the list if you’d like, I know it’s been a while for you.” He nods while his dimples show in a big smile. “Check them out when they arrive, choose who you’d be comfortable with and let me know.” I pause, thinking, and then add, “Put Iona down second on the list. I spoke to her before and she’s ready. Pass the word around to the others, but be discreet.” Tommy nods again, his sandy blond hair falling over his forehead. “You know my rules. I’d like the list with preferences by eight tomorrow morning.”

You’d think I’d just given him an early Christmas bonus the way his face lights up. “You’re the best, Viv. Have I told you that lately?”

“No need, dearie, Rafe tells me every night.”

My accompanying grin is a wicked one as I turn towards the front doors. Pausing a moment, I consider the week ahead with this unknown group of vampires and the additional problem of the dead John Pierre. I need to make sure I’m at my peak. Turning back to the desk, I address that need.