Fanged Love, Book 1 Page 7

  Neli’s eyes flicker with agitation, and her face turns an angry shade of red. I am now wondering if I have misdiagnosed her consumption. Perhaps she is in need of a long walk outside to feel more fashionable.

  “Boz,” she growls.

  Ah! I suddenly realize why she is upset. “You may borrow my boat on your annual day off, if this concerns you.”

  “No! For fuck’s sake, you do not have a yacht, and if you did, I wouldn’t want to borrow it.”

  “Then what vexes you, girl? Out with it.” I flick my wrist in her general direction.

  She crosses the room and shakes a finger in my face. “If you go over to Stella’s, we both know you’ll be tempted to take more than a whiff and—”

  “And what?” I sneer, growing impatient with her lectures.

  “Your score with virgins is: Boz, eight hundred plus. Virgins, zero.”

  Of course it is. I am the master and always get my way. “I want you to make an appointment with the barber and a good tailor today while I sleep. I wish to look like gentlemen of this era. Perhaps a nice suit made of leather, but with more modern lines. I would also like to know the location of one of these sorceresses who can give my skin a golden luster.” I shall spare no expense to impress Stella so she will submit fully to me.

  Neli rolls her eyes. “You’re totally going over there and ignoring everything I said, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” I am going to use my gifts to ensure Stella wants to spend time with me, but that is all. I will have to depend on good old-fashioned seduction for the rest. “And if you had done your job to convince her to come to the castle this evening, I would not be forced to take matters into my own hands, now would I?” I open the door that leads to a concealed staircase behind my mirror and head for the stone steps leading downstairs to the garden.

  “Fine! Guess I’ll start packing, then, since we’ll be on the run after you kill her! Thanks, master!” Neli yells from inside the castle.

  I do not understand why she believes I lack control. Have I killed a single human since I rose from my lengthy slumber? No. Not even when I felt ravenous.

  Of course, this Stella is a temptation like no other. But how is this my fault? If Stella does not wish to be seduced by a vampire, she should try being less desirable. Maybe cover herself in cow dung or stop bathing altogether to mask that intoxicating scent.

  Mmmm…roses mixed with notes of wine and sunshine. My entire body quakes with anticipation.

  I zip through the hedges that border the castle’s property line, and cross the dark road. The moment I step foot on Stella’s property, a bloodhound howls from upstairs. I move swiftly to find the old hound in Stella’s parents’ room and stop the alarm.

  Using my beastly hypnotizing spell, I command it. “Rabbit.”

  The dog settles to slumber, happily dreaming of chasing a rabbit. Such a simple joy.

  I move swiftly to Stella’s room, so close I am already salivating. My pulse will not slow. The ache in my veins turns to an excruciating fire burning out of control.

  I must have her. I must have a bite.

  Yes, just one. One nibble and then I will be satisfied until I can have her in my bed and drink all of her.

  Stella

  I seriously shouldn’t have taken that ZzzQuil. Because I just had this insane dream of a shadow walking around the room. Next time, I’ll drink warm milk instead.

  It’s just that with so much pressure to save Stellariva, I can’t seem to relax. Everything’s riding on me.

  Eyes closed and half-dozing, I roll onto my back, willing my mind to find a happier place to dream. Beach. Sunshine. Coconut trees growing giant bags of money so I can save Stellariva.

  “You are so lovely,” says a low, deep voice, causing me to jackknife upright.

  Shit. “Who’s there?” I listen carefully over the quiet whirr of my white noise machine and open my eyes as wide as possible, but I don’t see anything in my room aside from the pale moonlight bathing the foot of the bed. “I’m losing my mind.”

  “No, my sweet Stella, I am the one who’s losing his mind.”

  I blink, wanting to run or scream or do something even though I’m aware it’s a dream. Yet, that voice… The way it fills my mind is hypnotic.

  “Who are you? Who’s there?” I ask, but deep down inside, I know the answer. My brain just won’t let the name come out. It’s like there’s a wall inside my head.

  A cool hand presses my chest, pushing me back down. “Rest now, my lovely Stella. You will forget I was here and fall into a deep sleep until the sun rises. Then you shall wake with an insatiable desire to spend every waking moment with your stunningly handsome and irresistible neighbor, Mr. Bozhidar. Also, you will not notice the small hickey on your neck and will tell everyone who asks that you were attacked by a very aggressive mosquito.”

  What? I chuckle. What a freakin’ hilarious dream.

  “What do you find amusing, woman?” the deep voice snaps.

  “My neighbor? Irresistible? I’d sooner have sex with a toad or marry an old shoe.” Not that my neighbor is an ugly man. In fact, at first glance, he’s actually pretty beautiful. But then he opens his mouth, and it’s like a train wreck of rudeness. Thank God I never have to see him again and this is a dream. I sigh with relief. I know it’s not real, but maybe I needed this. Laughter is the best cure for stress.

  “I am no toad or shoe.” The voice grows louder. “I am the night. The darkness. The sin you have desired your entire life.”

  The raised volume in his voice jars me from my twilight state. Or am I still dreaming? Unsure, I sit upright again and see the shadow standing at the foot of my bed. It has a distinctive male form—broad shoulders, thick arms, and a narrow waist. Wait. “Mr. Bozhidar?”

  He grumbles something in a language I do not understand, and then I hear, “Sleep, Stella. Sleep, I command.”

  I lie back down, my body growing heavy and melting into another dream. I fall into the deepest, most relaxing slumber ever.

  When I wake, I feel like a new me, only remembering tiny pieces of my bizarre night and all the images my mind dreamed up. Hilarious. Talking shadows that looked like my neighbor…

  I hop from bed and go to the bathroom to get started for the day, but as I pass the mirror, I spot something on my neck.

  What the hell? I lean forward over the pedestal sink, inspecting the two bumps and small red marks surrounding them. I must’ve had a very aggressive mosquito in my room last night.

  Suddenly, a vision of Mr. Bozhidar pops in my head, and my stomach does a flip. Lower still, there’s an ache of desire.

  WTF? I’m just being silly. I don’t want that man, and I never will. I’m simply excited about collaborating with him now that I’ve had time to cool off. It’s the perfect solution to Stellariva’s problems.

  I’ll invite him over tonight. He can meet my family, and we can start working together.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Boz

  Challenge accepted! After listening to Stella’s ludicrous nocturnal mumbles, comparing me to a wart-covered amphibian, I am now more determined than ever to seduce the virgin across the road. It will require every weapon at my disposal, but when I am done with her, she will be eating out of my cold hand, begging me to bed her.

  The battle begins tonight! Neli has arranged for our collaboration, and we will meet Stella at her home this evening.

  I have spent the early evening hours preparing, not wasting a moment. When I rose at sunset, a man with short dark brown hair with an unfortunate streak of yellow through the top (perhaps a sorcerer’s curse?) was waiting to give me a haircut. It is now cropped short in what Anton calls a “crew cut,” though I argued it should be called a “master cut,” a term he was forced to agree with in the end, because, as Anton rightly pointed out, the shorter cut draws attention to my supremely handsome features. Neli paid him richly for his time, and I used my power of suggestion to make him forget.

  Next, a strange brassy woman
with orange hair and a gold hoop through her nostrils invited me to her “mobile tanning station,” a large white box on wheels. She sprayed me with a liquid that instantly gave me the look of a man who has the means to spend leisure time outdoors. Joey and Ross have nothing on me. I am now every bit the virile modern man of means. Well, almost.

  At present, I am preparing for the final step in my transformation. Neli is driving me to see the tailor whose shop is inside the marketplace. Very odd.

  “I am enjoying the speed of this horseless wagon,” I say, exploring the levers on the door that lower and raise the window. There is also a device that plays any sort of music one wishes to hear. The marvels of the modern world.

  “The horseless wagon is called a Beemer,” Neli replies, her eyes keenly focused on the well-groomed road.

  “It is a definite improvement over traveling by carriage.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying some of the perks modern life has to offer. Maybe keep that in mind when we’re shopping for your clothes.”

  “Why? What is it that I will find?”

  “I don’t know how to break it to you, but…”

  “Well? Out with it, girl.” I snap my fingers.

  “Leather pants are no longer in fashion for men.”

  “What? This is criminal! How are men supposed to protect their cocks while pillaging or plundering?” That used to be my favorite pastime when I was a young vampire. Obviously, we did not have TVs back then, so one had to have a hobby. Later, as I grew into a more sophisticated and kinder vampire warlord, I enjoyed reading and painting.

  “Pillaging is illegal now. You can’t just burn down people’s homes and take things because you feel like it. Plundering is still in, though, but they call it income taxes, and it’s done by the government.”

  “This era is no fun.” Perhaps I can improve things by bringing back leather trousers. I have been known to start a fashion trend or two in my day. For example, capes. That was all me. Those other vampires were copycats.

  “I’m sure you’ll find other things to entertain you, Boz.”

  Yes. Her name is Stella. “And what else may I expect to find at this marketplace?” Perhaps I will buy my sweet little human a trinket. Or a monkey. Or a monkey wearing a trinket.

  “The marketplace is called a mall. They have a little of everything, but mostly people go to buy clothes—they have about twenty or thirty shops to choose from.”

  “So many tailors in one location?” How extravagant.

  “The clothes are already made. You just buy them and take them home to enjoy.”

  “Well,” I grumble, “I will insist on trying them on before I make my purchases, as I doubt the tailors of this time are accustomed to dressing a man of my spectacular physique.”

  Neli mumbles something about a bloated egomaniac—one of the other drivers must have offended her in some way.

  The Beemer comes to a halt next to several other Beemers in a large open stable of sorts. I look around, searching for the stalls and tents of the merchants displaying their wares, but all I see is a large beige structure that reminds me of a box.

  “Where is the marketplace?” I ask impatiently. She knows time is of the essence. Tonight I shall see my Stella and take one final sip of her delicious virgin blood before her deflowering. Ah, the delights of seducing a maiden.

  “Everything is indoors, inside that building.” She points to the structure. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pick an outfit for you? It’s a little bright in there with all the lights.”

  “Nonsense. I am even more attractive by candlelight.”

  “It’s not candlelight, Boz. It’s artificial light, like we have inside the house, but brighter, like a thousand mini suns.”

  I stare at her in horror. “Do you have a death wish?” She knows my well-being is tied to hers, and artificial or not, so much light cannot be healthy.

  “It won’t kill you. I’ve seen other vampires here before, but they protect themselves.”

  “If I had known, I would have worn my hooded cape. You have been remiss in your duties.”

  “I couldn’t let you wear a cape. Those aren’t in style any longer either.”

  Sacrilege! What is wrong with these modern humans?

  Neli reaches into her large leather bag and hands me an odd-looking black hat with a long brim only in front.

  I study it from different angles and stare at a strange orange symbol. An incantation of sorts? I toss it back to her. “Is this witchcraft?”

  She puts it on her head. “It’s an S and an F together for the San Francisco Giants.”

  I take it from her and put it on since she was not instantly burned by its magic. “I thought giants were a myth. Do the people wear their symbol to ward them off? Are the giants fond of the mall?”

  “It’s a baseball team. A game of sport the locals enjoy.” She hands me a pair of black glasses. “Put these on too. It’ll help with the light.”

  “And do they fight to the death in this baseball?” Perhaps I will join in this game. Nothing better than a fresh kill.

  “No. Can you please put on the shades?”

  How clever. Shade for the eyes. I slide them on. “But how will the shopkeepers admire my striking black eyes? How am I to hypnotize them into giving me the best price?”

  She blows out a breath, muttering, “Patience.”

  Another overly long breath from Neli. I simply cannot have a sick servant waiting on me hand and foot. She will be much too slow. “If you insist on not calling the leecher—”

  “I’m not sick!”

  “Then you must need more fresh air. I insist you take a long walk outdoors on your annual day off.” When I was first gifted Neli, I was not the generous master you see today. There was no such thing as a day off. If a slave wished to eat, they worked. If they wished to live, they obeyed. Of course, Neli was an obstinate, disrespectful, wild beast of a girl when her family gave her to me. They were tenants on my land, farming various grains and squashes. One year, there was a drought and they could not pay their rent, so they offered Cornelia.

  “Do you mean to tell me,” I said to her mother, “that is not a large rat?” She was covered from head to toe in mud. I could not even tell she had red hair underneath it all.

  “Her name is Cornelia.” Her mother pushed her through the back door of my castle. “She is a good girl. Hard worker.”

  Who were we kidding? The locals knew what I was. This child could not have been more than ten summers, and she was not being offered up as a servant.

  “I am sorry,” I had told her mother. I pushed the dirty runt back outside, using the tip of my finger to avoid getting grime on myself. “I do not require additional labor.” I dropped my voice. “She is too young.” In other words, I did not drink children. Even evil vampires must have limits.

  “Well,” her mother pushed her back inside and said, “I have nothing else to pay you with—no other children, no cattle, no money—so take it or leave it.”

  My patience grew thin. I was in the middle of my painting lesson. “The answer is no. I will not accept her as payment. You have one day to return with gold, or you must vacate your land.”

  I reached for the runt, but this time she ducked, stepped to the side, and kicked me in the shin. “Ugly bastard!”

  I looked down at her and raised my hand, intent on giving her a smack on top of her mud-caked head as a warning, but then our eyes met. She did not shrink away from me. She did not show fear. Just…defiance and fire. With a delicious evil streak. Mmm…

  “Well, I suppose I could let her work in the kitchen.” She would not be a child forever and could make for a nice snack in a decade or so. “Off you go, now. Find Alina in the kitchen. Tell her she is to bathe you, feed you, and find you a clean dress.”

  Cornelia stuck out her tongue and ran off.

  When I turned to her mother to bid farewell, I will never forget the joyous gleam in her eyes.

  Oh, I see. Offer the unru
ly child to the local vampire. In that moment, I realized why I, too, had been offered to my master as a boy. I was the runt. I was the wild, disobedient, unwanted child.

  They sent me to my death. At the time I received Neli, I had been a vampire for centuries, yet I had never realized this. I believed I’d been offered as a servant, and never considered I was intended to be a meal. My master, the Great Kylgorii Gillmoreanu, took pity on me. He did not believe in eating children, a rule I learned from him. Later, once I reached my early twenties, he would find me invaluable and turn me.

  In any case, the rage I felt in that moment, while staring at Cornelia’s cruel mother, would lead me to a dark place that night. I never did tell Neli how her parents perished, or that they sent her to her death, but from that day forward, I felt protective of her. Perhaps because I saw her as a version of myself. Left behind by those who were supposed to care for her. When she came of age, I never even considered eating her as a snack. She was smart, feisty, and as close to family as a vampire like myself would ever get.

  Then, on her twenty-third birthday, she asked me to change her, but I did not wish to curse her to a life in the darkness. There was, however, something appealing about the notion of never having to be alone again. A platonic forever companion. So I told Neli that I would give her my blood, and I would take hers. If she wanted to turn, she would have to do it herself by taking her own life. Until then, she would remain human, bound to me, ageless.

  Looking back, I am pleased that I did not change her. I think once she saw all the benefits to being my immortal human slave, what was the point? She is afforded many luxuries, including one slice of bread and cheese each day. Her annual day off is also another lavish perk.