Microsoft Word - The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance.doc (16 page)

“That’s right,” I said. “That’s why I allowed myself to be  turned.” What a remarkable young woman, I thought, my earlier  anger towards her for the pain she caused me was gone. Finally,  a woman who understood me, and soon she would be dead at  the  point of my fangs.

126

“I have a thousand questions. I can’t believe my luck. Not  only do I finally find a real, live vampire, but he’s an intellectual  to boot. I promise I won’t interrupt you any more. Is it time for  me to drink your blood yet?”

I looked down at her and marvelled at her perfection both in body and mind. I ran my hand through her silky hair, letting my thumb brush her cheek, which was by now as pale as alabaster.  It was such a shame she had to die.

A cold wind sent leaves and litter swirling in a tiny whirlwind that skittered past me while I waited for my next class at Georgia State University. I’d chosen to move on to another institution of higher learning for the winter semester and put behind me the unpleasantness I’d gone through in nearby  Athens, Georgia.

For a vampire who always anticipated living for ever, having come so close to death was a sobering experience, so I opted for a change of scene. GSU was an urban university, situated in the heart of downtown Atlanta. The inner city

environment with its profusion of drug dealers, pimps and other

criminals was a rich hunting ground.

“Come along now, dear. Don’t play with your food,” I

admonished Victoria.

She was dangling her victim off the top level of the multi-storey parking deck on which we stood. She nodded and drew him back ob to the concrete surface where she finished draining his blood. The man had made the mistake of attempting to carjack our vehicle as we entered the structure.

127

Oh, I killed Victoria that night in Athens all right. Killed her mortal body and made her into a blood drinker as she’d asked.  For my part, I resolved to set aside my prejudices and tamp down my disgust for fledglings. The experience has proven to be a much-needed exercise in tolerance for me. After  all, who

am I to question the ways of the vampire?

When she’d drunk her fill, I stuffed the body into a nearby

trash can and covered him with refuse. “Shall we?”

She smoothed her hair, straightened her skirt and took my

arm. “Of course, dear,” she said.

She begged me to let her jump down to street level, but I pointed out that someone would undoubtedly see her. Having to explain herself to a patrolman coming out of Atlanta police headquarters across the street would put a damper on the fun of flying.

“Of course, you’re right. Whatever you say darling,” she  said sweetly. “What would I do without you to keep me out of  trouble? Let’s take the elevator.”

I removed a linen handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed away the trickle of blood from her chin. In time, she would cease to need the excitement of the kill and we would both feed together discreetly and without the need to hide the bodies of the miscreants she drained of blood.

As we walked to class arm in arm, I reflected on my good fortune. It had taken  me some 3,000 years to find the woman meant just for me. I’d enjoyed being a scholar, but until Victoria  I’d never experienced the satisfaction of sharing my knowledge with someone who appreciated it.  The student has become the teacher. And, as the youngsters used to say, the teacher digs it.  And then, of course, there’s the sex. I would never have dreamed that monogamy would be so . . . stimulating.

128

And what of my enduring philosophical question  –  what is my purpose? I am now beginning to believe that my  purpose as a blood drinker on this earth was to sire Victoria the vampire.  So, at the risk of waxing as romantic as a smitten schoolboy, pardon me and my lady Victoria while we ride off into the proverbial sunset.

129

V iper’s B ite

D elilah D evlin

H
 
er hips  swished beneath her short, flirty skirt, drawing his gaze like a magnet. He suppressed a low, rumbling growl from the beast rising inside him. The splash of large pink flowers on the white skirt stood out like a beacon in  the darkness.

He followed her as she left her apartment, sticking to the shadows, ducking into stairwells when she looked behind her as though she sensed someone followed.

Her shoulder-length, flyaway brown hair bobbed across the tops of her slender shoulders. The creamy skin of her exposed arms and legs swung in a rhythm that his heart picked up and matched, beat for stride.

Feeling more like the true predator he was than ever, he suppressed shame that burned like battery acid in his stomach, and continued stalking the woman who walked more briskly now along the darkened sidewalk.

When she turned onto a crowded walkway, her shoulders

sank and her steps slowed as she relaxed.

130

She believed herself safe now.

Little did she know, but her ‘spontaneous’ decision to go out had been at his suggestion  –  a message telegraphed with tantalizing snippets of fresh salt air, the caress of a soft breeze and a glimpse of sensual pleasures.

She hadn’t heeded her own natural inhibitions. Hadn’t paused to check the clock and note the waning evening hours.  Instead she’d made her decision, wriggled into her sexy little skirt and snug pink T-shirt, slid her feet into strapless sandals and  bounded down the stairs, ready to kick off winter’s gloom in an unseasonably warm spring night.

He’d made sure she didn’t glance even once at the clock or

the calendar resting on the bureau in her foyer.

And while he’d provided himself the opportunity to meet her, he’d decided days ago that he wouldn’t use his persuasive gifts to bring her straight into his arms.

Tonight, he wanted to savour a natural seduction.

She paused along the gangway that followed the curving street through a long, outdoor mini-mall. At the bottom of one set of stairs leading up into a seafood restaurant, she lifted one foot, planting it on the first paved step.

He drew back the suggestion that had led her here. Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. Her foot slipped off the step and slowly settled beside the other.

“Did you forget something?” he murmured behind her.

A gasp escaped her, and her head jerked to the side, then tilted up to meet his gaze. Her eyes widened, and then slid over his shoulders before rising again. “You frightened me.”

131

The frown that bisected her brows amused him. She was

annoyed and  not bothering to hide it. Her eyes narrowed. “I

know who you are.”

Viper jerked imperceptibly. His heart tripped and then thudded dully again. She couldn’t mean what he thought. “Are you sure you’re answering the correct question?” he asked, giving her a  slight twist of his lips. More of a smile than most

ever saw.

Her head shook, sending her fine, dark hair shivering silkily

across her cheeks.

The urge to tuck her hair behind her ears was almost irresistible. He curled his fingers and stuffed his hands  into the pockets of his faded jeans. “Who do you think I am?”

She hesitated. “I’ve seen you before. At one of those Goth

clubs. You’re the manager.”

Viper suppressed a grin. She was talking about Dylan’s club. “I’m just filling in for a friend at the Cavern, until he returns home. I have no ambition to run his place permanently.”

“The Cavern.” She nodded. “That’s it. It’s a strange place. I  did a piece there about young Goths and the rise of Sanguinarian  blood rituals.

“You’re a writer then? Or are you  a television reporter?” he  asked, knowing full well she wrote columns for the social  section of the
 
Seattle Times
.

Her casual shrug belied the fact she was serious about her work. Ambitious even. The social section wouldn’t encompass her ambition for long.

132

He’d always loved that about her. She kept her eyes on the prize and rushed headlong wherever her curiosity and drive led her. An excellent quality for a reporter, but one that had spelled disaster for him.

But then, she didn’t remember any of it. She  hadn’t learned

her lesson because he’d needed her to remain safe.

“You know, they have a dress code here,” she murmured  eyeing his black leather jacket and T-shirt, and then letting her  glance slide quickly down his legs before rising again. A faint  blush  tinged her pale cheeks.

Viper’s eyes dipped. “I’m not planning on going inside. I

was waiting . . . for someone.”

“Lucky girl,” she said softly, then shook her head again.  “It’s not like I have a reservation or anything, and I’m not  dressed for it either. I’m not really sure why I stopped ”–

His glance panned the line of people waiting patiently for their numbers to be called by the restaurant hostess who roamed outside, taking names on a clipboard. “Would you like to go somewhere else?” he said quickly,  not wanting to let her go just yet, needing to work the moment in order to build her trust.

Time stretched between them. Her gaze flitted down the row of well-lit shops, still open with people walking leisurely along the covered walkway. A soft evening mist muted the glare of the street lamps and the sounds of the people passing them by as they stood at the bottom of the steps leading into the trendy restaurant.

“I promise I don’t bite,” he said, fighting the urgency  building in his body to keep his words light and casual. “We can  just take a walk. Find a cup of coffee, if you like.”

133

He wanted her to say yes, without any extra ‘persuasion’

from him. He wanted her to choose him of her own free will.

Along indrawn breath lifted her chest, and she gave him  a small, tentative smile. “There’s Starbucks at the end of the mall.”

Warmth seeped into his chest. And although he knew tomorrow he’d pay a heavy price, he needed to spend tonight . .  . with her.

Viper tugged his hands from his pockets and crooked an

elbow, feeling a little foolish for the old-fashioned gesture. His

manners felt a little rusty.

Her hand slid around his forearm, her fingers lightly resting atop the leather. Through the barrier he shouldn’t have been able to note the heat of her hands, but he did,

“Shall we?” he asked, and then stepped out, shortening his

natural stride to allow her to walk comfortably beside him.

“You haven’t asked me my name.”

It’s
 
Mariah
. “You haven’t asked mine.”

Soft, rueful laughter floated around him. “I’m not  like this. I don’t let strangers lead me around.” She ducked her head, perhaps to hide the new blush staining her cheeks. “I’m Mariah  Cohen.”

He pressed his lips to halt the automatic response. Tonight he wasn’t Viper. “I’m Daniel Vacarro,” he said softly  and held his breath. Would the name niggle at her memory?

“Daniel. Not Danny?”

134

He shuddered.

She laughed again. “Not manly enough?”

He gave her a narrowed glance.

“See?” she said, a smile curving her lush lips. “We’re

already getting to know each other.”

“Are you always a smart ass with complete strangers?”

“We aren’t strangers,
 
Daniel
. I admit, tonight I feel just a  little reckless, but I recognized you right off. We’re just taking a  short walk in the middle of a crowd of people. What’s the worst  that can happen?”

Viper shook his head. The  woman was crazy. But she was

right. The only danger he posed was to her sweet, curvy body.

His fingers curled over hers, pressing them against his forearm. “This is the place.” He swept her into Starbucks and stood in the long line.

As the people waiting in front of them peeled away, one at a time, some patting pockets for ‘missing wallets’, some squinting at the menu board as though they suddenly couldn’t read it,  Mariah stood quietly beside him, bewilderment rounding her eyes as the line melted completely away. “This never happens.”