Tin Angel (31 page)

She couldn’t be happier, and she owed it all to a tin angel. Alice looked to the top of the Christmas tree where the special tree topper gleamed. She’d never forget the miracle she’d been granted.

“Do you know how much I love you?” she asked Jack softly.

“Why don’t you show me?”

She took his hand and led him to the bedroom. “Oh, I plan to. Every day for the rest of our lives.”

THE END

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DATE WITH A VAMPIRE

© 2012 Raine English

One hundred million dollars, countless gold-digging men, and a vampire who not only wants her money, but her soul as well, have turned Melody Johnson’s quiet life upside down.

Melody Johnson, a shy bookworm with a secret yearning for romance and love, dreams of meeting a man as dashing and wonderful as the heroes in the books she reads. But being a realist, she knows that’s highly unlikely. Besides, men always leave her for someone more exciting—until she wins the lottery that is. Pursued by scores of men happy to help spend her fortune, Melody longs to have her quiet life back. When a network executive calls her about appearing on a reality show, she seizes the opportunity to show the world she’s off the single’s market. Melody leaves her quaint hometown in New York for a sunny island in the Pacific where twenty gorgeous bachelors will vie for her heart and where she can stage a phony engagement. What she never expects, though, is to fall in love with a vampire.

Guystof LeBreque is a four-hundred-year-old Romanian vampire who hates the taste of blood. He’s roamed the earth for centuries, feeding on criminals of the worst degree and loathing the monster trapped inside him. When his father gives him an ultimatum to marry a rich woman in sixty days or lose his legacy to his evil bloodthirsty brother, Guystof resorts to drastic measures. He becomes a bachelor on a hit reality show. What he doesn’t anticipate is losing his heart to the woman whose mortal life he must end.

Please enjoy the following excerpt for DATE WITH A VAMPIRE…

Melody Johnson’s heart pounded. Her fingers trembled. She stared at the lottery ticket clenched in her hand, then glanced over the rim of her reading glasses to check for the umpteenth time the numbers shown on the television screen.

Yup. They all matched. She swallowed hard. Holy cow! She was a multi-millionaire. Rich beyond her wildest dreams. One hundred million dollars rich. If she held the only winning lottery ticket, that was. But she wasn’t greedy. Even if there were other winners, she’d be happy with whatever her share came to. She was about to have a lot more money than she’d ever dreamed of having.

She could even quit her job. Think of that—never having to shelve another book again. Although she loved working at the Reader’s Den, the tiny bookstore paid only slightly more than minimum wage, and it could be years till a position opened at the library. Mrs. Smith had commanded the front desk for as long as Melody could remember yet showed no signs of retiring any time soon. Melody had always wanted to be a librarian, but she didn’t want to leave her small hometown of Hope, New York, to do so. She’d grown up there. Her friends and family all lived there. And it was only an hour outside of New York City. Everything she could ever want was in Hope. Besides, money had never mattered much. She shared the two-story townhouse apartment with her three best friends. They paid their bills on time and had a few bucks left each month for a night on the town—usually spent at Chucky’s Bar and Grill sucking down Margaritas and splitting an order of Nachos Supreme. What more could a girl want? She’d always figured she had plenty of time to worry about her financial future. Yet, it looked like that had all been taken care of for her, and it had only taken a trip to the convenience store for a box of dog biscuits for her little black pug, Gizmo.

She never bought lottery tickets, mainly because she just never thought to. Today had been different, though. When the clerk handed her the dollar in change, it was as if someone stood beside her and whispered lottery numbers in her ear.

Melody stared at the paper in her hand. If this was an indication of the power of intuition, she’d make sure to listen to all her inner urgings from now on. Sliding the sleeping pug off her lap, Melody hoped her legs were now steady enough to support her. She rose from the couch and bolted upstairs to wake her childhood friends. Mags, short for Margaret, shared a room with Billy, aka Willamina, while she bunked with Ann, not short for anything.

While she ran down the hall, every now and then her gaze drifted to the lottery ticket in her hand. Just a few minutes ago she’d been your average twenty-four-year-old, and now…well, her life would never be the same. What lay ahead, she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

* * *

Blood trickled from the corner of Guystof LeBreque’s mouth. He grimaced and wiped at it with the back of his hand. The taste of his kill lingered on his tongue. He couldn’t wait to get home to rinse his mouth. For nearly four hundred years he’d scoured the earth, hunting unknowing victims to quell his hunger and hating himself for it. Why couldn’t he have been more like his younger brother, Theo, who loved everything about being a vampire?

Guystof raced through the fog-filled streets of London, darting in and out of shadowy alleyways toward his flat on the outskirts of the city. The memory of the dead man, with two perfect holes piercing his neck, his drained body abandoned to the shadows, turned his stomach. Why had he been condemned to live this eternal nightmare? His only salvation lay in his choice of victims: criminals of the worst degree.

He skirted the piles of garbage lining the streets. A horrible stench permeated the air, adding to his nausea. The sun had begun to crest the horizon, and he shielded his eyes with his hand. If he didn’t hurry, he’d burn. Only once in his life had he experienced the dreadful bubbling—nearly two hundred years ago—yet the memory was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. The pain had been almost intolerable, for not only his skin was affected. He’d begun to boil internally too, and if Theo hadn’t dragged him inside, he would have been reduced to nothing more than a melted puddle of flesh. The sun was his enemy, more powerful than any vampire-hunting assassin.

Guystof dashed over the cobblestone street, his black cape billowing behind him like the wings of a bat. He spotted his flat up ahead and heaved a sigh of relief. His muscles ached with exhaustion. He longed for sleep. When he slid his key in the lock, his fingers started to tingle. He’d made it home just in time.

Inside the safety of his flat, he leaned against the thick wood door. Beads of sweat lined his brow, and a drop rolled onto his cheek.

“Still living on the edge, I see.”

Guystof froze. What was his brother doing here? There was no mistaking Theo’s thick Romanian accent. He never tried to conceal it, thinking it added to his charm. Guystof scanned the darkened room for him. The squeak of the rocking chair and the glow of a cigarette gave away his location.

Guystof left the foyer and crossed into the parlor, pointing his finger at the stone hearth. A fire exploded, and flames shot through the iron grating. The sudden light waved across the old Victorian parlor, touched on the dark oak furniture and Aubusson carpeting. He rarely used his powers, and almost never to do something he could just as easily do manually, but he needed to see his brother’s face to decipher the real reason he’d come to call. Guystof knew him well enough to know his words alone might not provide the truth. Though he cared deeply for Theo, and owed him his life, he was not fool enough to trust him completely, for there was a side to him that no one knew. He’d betray his family, if it served his purpose.

“A few more minutes out in the light and I fear I’d be treating you again, brother. Stirs up memories, doesn’t it? Only this time might have proved more difficult. We’re not in our country. These Brits don’t look so kindly on our type.”

Guystof studied Theo, outlined by the flickering orange flames. Although it had been more than a century since he’d seen him, his brother looked unchanged—shorter and stockier than he, with a face and body women adored. His blond curls were the complete opposite to Guystof’s straight dark locks. Theo’s boyish good looks were a tool he used to his advantage, but beneath his handsome facade lay a heart as dark as the Devil’s own.

Guystof leaned against the mantle, crossing one polished black shoe in front of the other. “What brings you to these parts? I know you haven’t come merely to save my neck.”

“That hurts. Why assume I don’t care about your well-being?” The faintest hint of a smile graced his full lips, making him look oddly effeminate.

Guystof narrowed his eyes. Theo was toying with him, and enjoying it. “You’re fully aware no offense was meant, so let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”

“All right, old boy, we’ll save the small talk for later. You were right. I haven’t come of my own accord. Father sent me.” Theo leaned forward in the chair and reached into his back pocket, drawing out a crumpled piece of parchment. “I’m to give you this.” He handed over the paper, with a look Guystof couldn’t decipher.

After unfolding the letter, he began to read. His brow furrowed. A moment later, he waved the paper out in front of him. “How long have you had this?”

Theo took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled a long line of smoke. “You’re not an easy man to find. I traveled Europe for weeks before finding your quaint little London abode.”

“Nonsense. Tessa knows my whereabouts,” Guystof said harshly, aggravated by this game.

“You don’t know?” Theo’s eyes glistened. Were those tears?

His fingers tensed on the paper. Something had happened. “Know what?” His voice cracked when he spoke.

“Tessa’s gone. Killed by an assassin.”

Guystof squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. It had happened again… Memories of another time and place whirled through his mind. His own mother had been killed by assassins, when he was only sixteen. Her death had been so painful that he’d never forgotten the agony on her face. After that tragedy, he’d vowed to never turn a woman into a vampire. He’d travel through eternity alone, rather than risk losing someone he loved that way again. Yet it had happened…this time to his beloved Tessa… And she’d always been so careful too. That didn’t seem to matter, though. A woman turned as an adult never acquired the skills necessary to protect herself from her enemies. It had only been a matter of time before she faced an excruciating death.

He crossed the room and stood beside Theo, placing his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I loved her too.” Although she hadn’t been his natural mother, he’d cared for her as such, and she’d returned his love by treating him as her own. She’d never showed Theo preferential treatment. Both boys had been raised under her careful tutelage.

“Is that the reason for this?” Guystof’s gaze filtered down to the letter he held limply in his hand.

Theo shook his head. “Father’s devastated. He’ll not marry again. He’s barely able to hunt for food, let alone raise enough money to keep Dragesa afloat. The castle needs repairs, to say nothing of the state of ruin the grounds have fallen into.”

“But I can’t marry. I took a vow.”

Sneering scorn crossed Theo’s handsome face. “That was no vow. Merely a silly promise you made to yourself as a boy. Now it’s up to you to carry on the family legacy. You must choose a bride, and select wisely. You’ll need one with a fortune,” he said with a snicker. “Oh, and remember, you’ve only sixty days.”

Guystof reread the letter, more carefully this time. When he finished, he directed his gaze back to Theo. “Father says nothing about the reason for the rush.”