The Vampire...In My Dreams (3 page)

Looking totally exasperated, she dropped her hands to her sides.

“Are you finished?” I didn’t think she’d completed her spell.

Her actions indicated she hadn’t finished her witch’s training either. If she had, I wouldn’t have so easily distracted her concentration with merely a smile. Grateful she had a heart and wasn’t trying to cast a curse or hex on me, I took a ragged breath.

“If you’re a—”

I folded my arms, trying to calm the outrage that slowly burned inside of me, that the girl who would be my mate would wish to use me to catch a warlock. “You’ll want to turn me into your witch’s order. I’ll be examined, poked and prodded, stripped naked, then put on display.”

Her brows rose, and her full pink lips pursed. The notion I’d be stripped of my clothes flitted across her mind, but I couldn’t catch whether she felt this was a good thing, or bad. Then her lips turned up slightly. Not good.

I tried again to convince her of her folly. “Is that what you want? To prove to the others how you can take down a mighty Prince of Darkness?”

If nothing more, perhaps I could appeal to her sense of fairness.

She crossed her arms, her eyes still locked onto mine, but despite the revelation, she hid her feelings well. “So you are one.”

I wasn’t sure she truly believed I was, not unless I admitted it. “If you say so.” I held out my hand to her, willing her to accept me for what I was, knowing my power to command her was futile. “Friends?”

Seemingly annoyed, she ignored my hand. “I don’t want to turn you in to be poked, prodded and put on display.”

I didn’t feel she was totally sincere, but it was a start. “But you want to prove I’m a Prince of Darkness. How else will you do it? Will anyone believe you without proof?”

She tilted her head to the side, her face still hiding any emotion. “Any suggestions?”

Inwardly, I smiled. Biting her would prove it. But if I suggested such a thing, would she run off screaming? The beat of her heart had slowed considerably, but was still faster than normal. If I took a step toward her to close the gap between us, I was sure she’d bolt.

Yet I could think of no other way to give her proof. If I’d been an ancient vampire, I might have had more ideas in mind. But that was the point. I wasn’t and didn’t want to suffer that fate. I wanted my life back, as much as it could return to normal. Marissa was the one to help me do it.

“Friends?” Again, I offered my hand, but she wouldn’t draw near enough to take it. Risking everything, I said, “All right. If I bite you, would that be enough proof?”

She grinned. The prettiest, flashiest, brilliantly white toothy grin I’ve ever seen. Perfect teeth in size, shape and color. She could be a model for a toothpaste commercial, or orthodontistry work or something. The best thing was she hadn’t run away or taken a step back, and her face wasn’t filled with anxiety or horror.

Standing taller, she asked in an amused voice, “Bite me?”

Though the upturned lilt in her tone at the end of her words indicated she’d asked a question, I took full advantage of stating otherwise. “Are you asking me to?” I knew she wasn’t, but I still had to hope, fool that I was. If only she’d allow me to, it would end all of my miserable fleeting moments of worrying whether I’d get out of the horrible predicament I was in.

Not that it wasn’t my fault. I should never have kissed the girl that I did, siren that she was—ancient vampire that she was. I groaned inwardly at my folly.

Teach me to pick up any old girl before I knew more of who she was and where she’d been.

Marissa’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and her dimples grew even bigger. “No, I didn’t offer for you to bite me. I…” She smiled a little. “I was repeating what I thought you’d said. That’s your only suggestion of my proving you’re a—”

“Prince of Darkness,” I interrupted, stopping her from saying the hated vampire word. Though that one wasn’t nearly as awful as the bloodsucker term.

When the breeze flipped her sun-streaked curls into her eyes, she swept them out of her face. “Prince of Darkness. Can’t you think of any other way to prove you exist?”

“Afraid not. I’ve only just been turned, and…” I was dying to tell her the truth, but why would someone who didn’t even know me choose to risk her life to aid me? Somehow, I had to use my charms to convince her to allow me to bite her, but how could I, with her being a witch? I sighed heavily. In a week’s time, I’d lose all chance at a reversal.

She waited patiently for me to finish what I had to say.

Hoping to show my anguish and the awful predicament I was in, I pinched my brows together, attempting my most woeful look.

Her smile faded, but a glimmer of it stayed on her lips. Either she thought I was the worst actor she had ever witnessed, or she thought I was a great comedian.

“If you help me, I can become human again. But I only have until Friday. At midnight, I will remain what I am forever, a shadow of the night.”

Her facial expression didn’t change, yet I felt she was still amused by what I had to say. “What would I need to do?” she asked, businesslike.

Hope flickered while I rubbed my neck to reduce the tension in my taut muscles. “You have to share your blood with me.” At least that was part of the deal. I didn't dare tell her the rest this early on. One baby step at a time.

She shook her head, definitely opposed. Not good. “Then you could turn me into what you are.”

“Not while I’m still only partly turned. It’s the only way.” Though I hadn’t meant to grovel, my tone of voice definitely pleaded with her. Would she take pity?

I couldn’t spring the second part of the equation on her. Not yet. First, the blood swap. If she wouldn’t agree to it, nothing else mattered. Then, well, killing the one who was turning me would have to be accomplished next. That would end the spell. But Marissa had to do the killing. As my true mate, she was the only one who could save me.

She inhaled deeply. “I’ll sleep on it.” She headed down the sidewalk toward her house.

I couldn’t stop the way my heart took a dive. I didn’t want to try again the next day—each hour that passed brought me closer to a permanent hell I wanted to avoid at all costs. I had to convince her to agree, at least to the first step. “Nobody but you can save me, Marissa. You’re the only one.”

She visibly swallowed hard. At least I knew she was considering it. Even if she wasn’t totally agreeable, she hadn’t turned me down outright.

I followed her as she drew closer to the wraparound porch of her two-story colonial home. I sensed no one was home, which was a good thing for me, but not for her. Why would her parents leave her home alone? Maybe she was more responsible than I ever was. Of course, things had changed considerably since I’d been turned. “Is there nothing else I can say or do to convince you?”

She stopped and turned to face me, an impish smile tugging at her lips. “Take me to the school dance.”

I hesitated, absolutely thrown off balance by her demand. I couldn’t dance, not even at the best of times. On the other hand, did it mean she was willing to let me have a taste of her blood?

“A witches’ and warlocks’ affair?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral, but the nervousness still sounded in my voice. I had two left feet, and both had stepped on my date’s sandaled feet the only time I’d ever gotten brave enough to take a girl to a dance. Word soon spread, and no girl, no matter how charmingly I asked, would go with me to a dance following that disaster.

“Yes. Take me to it. I haven’t been asked yet.” Marissa walked backwards up the brick path to her house, her mind made up, her eyes sparkling with interest.

Immediately, a sense of relief washed over me. I was off the hook. “I can’t, can I? Not unless I’m a warlock.”

She narrowed her eyes.

I couldn’t imagine as pretty as Marissa was that she wouldn’t already have a date, but I also knew if I could have, I should have jumped at the chance to take her if it meant she’d share her blood with me. My reluctance? The niggling worry that I would dance on her feet when she was to be my permanent mate was the problem. But because I wasn’t a warlock the issue was moot anyway. Though now I was once again faced with trying to persuade her to go along with my plan. “I would think you’d have to turn a lot of guys down.”

She grinned at me, showing off those perfect teeth once again. “I guess I was saving my dances for you. But…you’re right. You can’t get in unless you’re a warlock. I guess I was just so hopeful…I forgot.”

She looked awfully disappointed, and I felt like a real heel for being grateful I couldn’t attend. Yet I couldn’t change what I was, nor could I modify the rules of the witches’ and warlocks’ dance.

I had hooked her—if only I could take her to the dance. “What about a movie or breakfast?” Dinner out could be a little too dangerous.

“I’d rather you could take me to the dance,” she said, folding her arms.

Not good. Then another thought hit me. Why was she so stuck on me taking her to the dance? Was it a trick to get me in front of the witch’s tribunal? My enthusiasm that she wished to help me suddenly deflated like a needle-pricked bubble.

A stirring in the air behind me warned me of impending doom and filled me with anguish. The devil vamp had returned for more of my blood and if I didn’t save Marissa, the vamp would make short work of her.

“Lynetta,” I cried out, panic in my voice, trying to distract the vampiress. Marissa stood only a few steps away from her front door. She could make it, if she bolted for it now. “Run into your house, Marissa!”

I couldn’t let Lynetta catch her. No telling what the vengeful vampire might do to her. No matter what, I needed Marissa to help me win against the devil. The notion a girl could help me still didn’t quite sit well with me, but I was coming to grips with the idea I needed her more than life itself.

Lynetta swooped toward Marissa with the speed of a hawk. I dove in between the two, attempting to delay Lynetta’s stab at tackling Marissa.

I sensed Marissa hesitate behind me when Lynetta grabbed my throat with one of her hands. She clasped her long, wicked fingers around my wrists with her other hand, binding me at once to her will.

“Run, Marissa!” I croaked, Lynetta’s strong fingers sealing off the air to my windpipe to make me behave. With all of my heart, my only hope was that Marissa would get away and never see what Lynetta had in mind to do with me next.

Chapter 3

MARISSA

“Watch well, witch,” the woman called back to me as she squeezed Dominic’s throat. Dressed in a black spandex shirt, matching jeans and a pair of high-heeled, thigh-high boots, she looked like a regular teen.

My heart lodged in my throat while my blood turned to ice, but I wouldn’t run and hide.

“See what I will do to you next!” She turned her attention to Dominic. “Do you think a scrawny thing like her can kill me? Do you? She’s trembling in her sneakers as we speak. Well, as I speak.”

I froze to the concrete sidewalk, unsure what to do next to save Dominic from the vampire. I wanted to pound her into the ground, but the way she held Dominic tightly in her grasp, I knew I couldn’t physically best her. I suspected none of my spells would work against an ancient vampire, and though the woman looked only to be my age, seventeen, she seemed older than time in her actions and speech.

She leaned over and licked Dominic’s cheek, and his expression turned from concern for me to hatred for her.

None of Dominic’s own words had emotionally stirred me to save him like the unbridled actions of the vampire at his throat. Lynetta bared her wickedly sharp pointed canines and hissed. Her long black hair hung wildly to her hips, tangled and teased by the breeze. She was petite like me, but as strong as a male bodybuilder, her grip on Dominic remaining iron tight. Her soulless black eyes, vacant and without a care, really ate away at my heart.

I surveyed the yard for any kind of a weapon I could use against the vampire. My heart surged when I spied a colorful whirligig attached to a wooden stake embedded in my mother’s pampered pansy garden nearby. Without a second’s hesitation, I dashed for it and yanked it out.

Running at the vampire, I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Death to the bloodsucking vampire!” Which gave me some courage. It wasn’t every day I had to beat one vampire off of another, when they didn’t even really exist. Who’d ever thought I’d have to tell Kate she was so right?

All I could think of was aiming the stake at the vampire’s heart—at least that’s what the books said would work on them—except Lynetta used Dominic to shield her. I ground my teeth, dancing around them, taking aim at the vamp anywhere that I could strike, praying I wouldn’t hit Dominic by accident.

With great relief, I thwarted her enough that she was unable to bite him, and I imagined she thought me a pesky, insignificant gnat, just as hard to strike down while she was trying to maintain her grip on Dominic. She snarled in anger, baring her fangs at me. My heart raced, sending the blood coursing through my system while I concentrated on striking the vampire again and again.

But the distressing notion kept running through my mind,
I am a failure
. I had messed up tons of potions and spells at school, caused an explosion in the lab, and turned a teacher into a baboon. How could someone as inept as me save Dominic from this fiend? Why didn’t he find another witch who had top honors, like Kate, to help him? By choosing me, he’d sealed his fate.

Yet, for now, he had no one else to aid him and I had to squash the sense of hopelessness that ate away at my confidence. I would save him…somehow.

Dominic struggled to get free, and I assumed Lynetta’s grip on him had loosened while I distracted her. Gritting my teeth, I struck the stake at her shoulder as hard as I could, all the while chanting ancient words,
“Malachon, revelist, baraths, chalmeon!”

She screamed out in pain, but the stake wasn’t sharp enough to cut her. Now on me, I’d have bruises the size of Texas, but I wondered if a vampire would bruise that easily.

“Witch’s spells won’t work on me, you little…little witch!” she yelled at me.