VAMPIRE MAN (The Librarian's Vampire Assistant Book 6) Read online

  I smile and go around the long line of humans. “Good evening.”

  Her eyes wash up and down my body. From the smile on her face, I take it that she likes what she sees. Strong arms, a broad chest, muscular thighs. That’s right, woman, underneath it all is a set of abs that can cut diamonds and a manhood capable of giving you a concussion.

  “Grab an apron,” she says cheerily. “You can help bus tables and refill the drink stations.”

  She expects me, the once great and powerful Nicephorus, to wait on humans?

  “I would love to,” I say with a fake smile and grab an apron from the hook on the wall behind her.

  “Tubs for dirty dishes are over there.” She points to a large stack in the corner. “Just pick up anything left on the tables and then wipe down the spot if it needs it. Oh, and if you’d make sure we’re not out of milk? We’ve had more children tonight than expected. After that, just make sure there’s still plenty of hot coffee and water.” She points to two large plastic rectangles with spigots.

  “My pleasure.”

  She arches a brow. “Are you sure? You look a little…I dunno, shocked maybe?”

  Game time. “Yes. I am. But entirely in a good way,” I lie. “I had no idea you were such a charitable creature.” She knows I mean vampire.

  She shrugs. “What else is there to do when you have nothing but free time?”

  I dog-ear that comment. She has just provided the perfect argument for her remaining immortal: She sees giving time to others as her gift to the world. I could also probably get through to her by arguing how the world does not need more humans. Aren’t there enough lives occupying this planet already?

  When I was born in the 1700s, people had space to breathe and live and plant fragrant herbs for their homemade potpourri or raise adorable tiny animals such as miniature goats. Not that I ever wished to do that. Much.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” I say. “Free time is a gift meant to be shared, not squandered.”

  She beams at me. “Thank you. You really surprised me just now.”

  That didn’t sound good. It implies that I came off as uncharitable before.

  As a reminder to her, I press my hand over my bat tattoo hidden under my shirt. “A side effect of living in survival mode for so long, I’m afraid. Now I can’t stop giving back.”

  Her eyes soften as she blinks at me. “You’re a sweet man, Racker.”

  In bed, yes. You must also add dirty to the list. Indiscriminate, too. I enjoy just about every form of sexual pleasure. Nothing is taboo as long as both parties are in raptures.

  “And you, Liza, are the most interesting woman I’ve ever met.” See, right there, I said interesting. If you tell a woman she is beautiful before you truly know her, she merely thinks you’re giving her lip service. Ah, but comment on her uniqueness or intellect and she feels special. Interesting is one of those words she can interpret any way she likes—educated, driven, perplexing, kinky. The word interesting could mean all those. It is up to her to decide.

  She blushes and goes back to work, while I try to hide my disdain for cleaning up after humans. I care not if they are destitute or homeless; it is simply wrong for a vampire of my standing to play maid to anyone. But at the moment, I must do what it takes to gain her affection. I am Mr. Right. And Mr. Right wants forever with you, Liza. Turn me.

  I simply hope I can pull this off. Liza is unlike any vampire I have ever met, and I am unsure if my bag of seduction tricks will work. I have a feeling I am about to find out.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Wow, you really were helpful tonight, Racker.” Liza sips on a bag of O-negative while I lean back in the red kiddie chair. This section of the library is Miriam’s pride and joy—a space for little humans to discover their love of reading, listen to story time, or play with colorful blocks while their mothers are off in the self-help section, wondering why they no longer feel like the sexual vixens they once were or why their asses have grown. I could tell them why—Because getting old sucks! And immortality is the only cure—but their asses are no concern of mine.

  “And you were really spectacular, Liza. I have never known a vampire with such a kind heart, but I sensed something was different about you right away.”

  She looks down, batting her golden eyelashes. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. So tell me how you came to be like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “So unvampire. Because trust me, I’ve met plenty. They are all so cold,” I lie. Well, maybe it’s not a lie.

  “I guess…I just made up my mind not to let being a vampire stop me from being me. I suppose you could say I saw it as an opportunity to be super-me.”

  “Interesting.” This time I really mean it. “You never wanted power or to have your own group of human slaves to rub your feet every night?” I know I did. A foot-rub harem was the first thing I acquired after being turned and leaving Narcissismo.

  And in case you’re wondering, I never tattooed my slaves. A vampire only does that when they wish to keep the human around for a while. It’s sort of a calling card to other vampires that says, “This human is taken.” It is a practice that is considered “old school” and very rare these days.

  “A slave?” Liza laughs. “Never crossed my mind. All I wanted was more of everything that already made me happy. More helping, more kindness, more self-exploration and enlightenment.”

  “Who are you?”

  She giggles. “What do you mean?”

  “What do you mean, what do I mean?”

  “You are the Mother Teresa of vampires.”

  “God no. I’m not that selfless. And trust me, I have plenty of flaws. I’m far from being saintlike.”

  “Flaws? Do tell.”

  “Well, for starters, I hate the idea of vampire societies and the pressure to conform. I feel like some vampires are constantly judging me because I don’t want to live like they do. Maybe that’s why I went off on my own. I hate being told I couldn’t be myself—”

  “Me too. What I mean is that I think we should follow our destinies. The vampire councils, society leadership, and king have no right to interfere. If I were king, I would rule in a completely different manner—let the territories and societies determine their own coven laws based on a set of basic common laws. Today, everyone is expected to follow the same rules regardless of if they make sense, which completely discounts how unique each of the twelve territories are. A vampire in India is nothing like a vampire in, say, Peru. Some covens are newer, and some live closer to the ancient ways. Some do not want foreign vampires to enter their territories, while others enjoy outsiders and free trade.” For certain though, my vision of world domination does include allowing me to do anything I like. There have to be some perks as king.

  “How do you know so much about vampire law?” she asks.

  I suddenly realize my blunder. Her talk of vampire self-determination has gotten me excited. I told her I have always been human, so there is no reason for me to be in the know. I need to cover my tracks.

  “I have something to tell you, Liza.”

  “Uh-oh. This sounds like it’s going to be a long conversation. Give me a minute?”

  I dip my head. “Absolutely.”

  “Be right back.”

  She gets up and disappears in the back, where there’s Miriam’s office, a break room, and some storage closets. I know the layout of this library like the back of my hand, the result of spending endless hours here as a toddler—until people started noticing Miriam’s rapidly aging son.

  I start pacing around the library, fine-tuning my story. How do I know so much about vampire laws? I do not want to lie. And no! It has nothing to do with Brandi’s lecture about hijacking someone else’s happiness. But I must have an explanation. A good one.

  “Okay. All set.” Liza has another bag of blood in her hand. “Sorry about that, but you smell incredibly delicious. I don’t want to be tempted to nibble.”

  She can t
ell I am spicy? Only bad humans are spicy. Now I have two things to cover up.

  “Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate you not biting me. The thing is, Liza, my time as a vampire’s slave made me very unhappy. I wanted revenge, to kill every vampire I met after that.” That part is actually true.

  I would also add that it made me quite mad. Certifiably insane. Sometimes I would try to run from Narcissismo, and he would punish me in very creative ways—locked me in a wooden crate filled with itchy plants, beat me until I stopped crying out—i.e., until I was too in shock to feel my skin any longer—and other times he would do nothing, say nothing, which was far worse. The stress of not knowing what my punishment would be was the ultimate psychological torture. It allowed my imagination to run wild. Would he drink me to near death? Would he flog me or tie me to the back of his carriage and make me run until my legs gave out? His sadistic ways broke me.

  It is no wonder I cannot trust anyone. My existence became about survival and avoiding ever being anyone’s torture-pet again. Power is the only assurance.

  “Really?” she says. “You don’t seem like a vampire hater.”

  “I know. It’s shocking, but that’s probably why I smell so good to you. I am no saint either.”

  “It’s understandable after what you went through.”

  “Yes, but recently I have gained much clarity. I began realizing that hating vampires isn’t the answer.”

  “No?” She takes a long sip from the corner of the bag.

  “I want to be like you, Liza. I want to become a vampire so I can do good.” I swallow hard for effect to make it appear like this conclusion of mine is not easy to grapple with. “No one should go through what I did, but the only way to really change things is from the inside. Vampires can’t just take a person simply because it pleases them. Humans are more than toys or food. We are family, friends, brothers, and sisters. So if I have to become a vampire to be an advocate for human rights, then so be it.”

  “Wow, Racker. That’s, uh…” She rubs her forehead. “That’s really bold.”

  “I know, but who better to shine a light on this issue than someone who knows both worlds?”

  “You never told me who your owner was.”

  “Narcissismo. He’s dead,” I lie, “but I really don’t like speaking about him. I’m sure you understand.”

  She bites her lower lip, flashing a bit of fang.

  “What?” I prod.

  “I think what you’re doing is honorable, but I doubt some vampires will ever change. They’re stuck in their ways—almost like their empathy died with their human selves.”

  “Perhaps, but the exceptions to the rules, like you, give me hope. Change is possible.” Odd. I’m actually beginning to believe my own lie. Perhaps because I am not making everything up. My suffering was real. My motives for power are real. My general disdain of other vampires is real.

  “So who is going to do the deed and turn you?” she asks.

  I stare at her with directness.

  “Me?” Her blue eyes go wide.

  “Why not? You are kind, and I know I could trust you to do it right.” If I am tasty, there is a risk that the vampire would be tempted to drink me to death before ever giving me their blood—a necessity for transformation. Also, the vampire must be ancient and powerful. Liza checks all the boxes.

  “I’m sorry, Racker, but I hardly know you. We’ve only just become friends, and changing someone is not on my list of priorities right now.”

  How the hell did I land in the friend zone? Me? I know she finds me attractive, so it must be the fact that I do not share her dreams of staying human and having babies. Nonetheless, she thinks our dinner the other night was merely a friendly meal. Which means tonight really is simply “hanging out.”

  I think fast. Perhaps the friend zone is not a bad place to be. I can use this to my advantage.

  “But we are becoming friends,” I say. “Why not get to know me while you search for your soul mate and stay open to all possibilities, like you said. You are a very remarkable woman, Liza, and you’ve only just begun putting yourself out there. I bet you’ll end up with more than one suitor to choose from. Vampires and humans alike. Why limit your options until you’ve truly found the right man, the one who appreciates everything you have to offer as a woman?” I do not come out and say that man is me, but I know by speaking these words, I am planting seeds in her mind. I could be him.

  “I don’t know…” She groans. “I suppose you’re right. Finding my special someone comes first, but I really want children, too. That means I have to take the cure.”

  “I do not envy your situation, Liza. Having to decide between the perfect mate or babies who require constant care is difficult. Love of your existence or…no more travel, feeding every two hours, being a servant to ungrateful cretins who throw themselves on the floor at Target because you won’t buy them a baby Yoda.” Not that I’m speaking from experience. Eh-hem. “But only you know what is right for you.”

  “True. I just…I guess I still haven’t given up hope that I can have both.”

  “If you do, then you will be the luckiest vampire in the world. As for me, I don’t want to be greedy. If I find my soul mate, I’ll be grateful. So many of my friends are still searching, and I doubt they’ll ever be successful. I once met a vampire who’d been searching for four hundred years to meet a woman he could love.” That’s right, Liza. Think long and hard about what you’re asking for. A perfect man and children? You’re a five-hundred-year-old vampire. “He eventually gave up. He told me that if the universe planned for him to be with someone, it would have happened.”

  Liza sighs with longing. “I hear what you’re saying, but I have to try. Of course, if I have to choose, then I will.”

  “No, no. Do not give up, Liza. I did not mean to make you doubt yourself,” I lie. “I feel the same as you do when it comes to following your destiny.” I pause, offering an intense look to demonstrate my sincerity. “I wanted to put my cards on the table with you—transparency is important in my way of life. Now more than ever.”

  “How so?” she asks, taking the bait. It is time to change tactics. Make her see I am not desperate or going to throw myself at her. If she wants me, she will have to win me from the friend zone. Vampires love the chase.

  “I have been struggling with telling my girlfriend about my plans. She was once a vampire slave, too, and hates them more than anyone I know. Every time I mention I want to become one, she explodes. I don’t want to lose her—she is very special to me—but I do not know how to overcome this hurdle in our relationship. She wants to stay human, and I need to do everything in my power to protect people like her.” How’s that for a martyr mission statement? “I just wish she would see what I’m trying to do, Liza. We all have our callings.” Liza is all about callings. I know she will sympathize with me.

  She finishes off her snack bag and sets it aside on the small table next to her. I can see her wheels cranking.

  “That woman you came here with the other day, is she your girlfriend?” she asks.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.” Liza pauses pensively. “So she doesn’t like your idea of becoming immortal, and you feel it’s the only way forward. That is quite the conundrum.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, if it helps, I’m here for you.”

  “And I, for you. I can’t explain it, but I feel like we were meant to be friends, Liza. It’s like I’ve known you forever.” Funny, when I say those words, I think of Brandi.

  “Hey, how about we go out tomorrow night?” she says.

  My plan is working! She is starting to see the path forward, and her attraction to me is obvious.

  “What did you have in mind?” Dancing? Drive-in movie? A little blood-exchange action while we Flix-n-chill?

  “I have a date with this guy I met last week—human. Why don’t you bring…?”

  What is happening? Why is she talking about another guy? �
��You mean Brandi?”

  “Yeah, Brandi. We can all go on a double date. That way she can see not all vampires are evil bastards. I mean, we can’t let my date know what I am, since he and I aren’t there yet in our relationship, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help with your issue. I assume Brandi knows I’m a vampire, right?”

  Hold the crazy vampire horses. She wants to go on a double date? And Liza is going out with other men? My plan of reverse seduction is not working.

  I smile tightly, trying not to grit my teeth. “Yes, Brandi knows, and that sounds like an excellent idea. I’m sure she’ll have her reservations, but I can persuade her. Absolutely.” Wrong. Brandi would rather have her eyes plucked out with tiny cocktail forks than assist me in this ruse.

  “Then it’s a date. I’ll text you the place.”

  “Thank you, Liza. I appreciate how supportive you are.”

  “I, for one, hope you change your mind and stay human. It would be good to have a human friend I can talk to after my transformation, but I respect your choice. We all have our paths. Me included.”

  I start to worry. “When exactly is your appointment to take the cure?”

  “In a few days.”

  Oh no. That’s not enough time to convince her to turn me.

  “Didn’t you mention needing to make preparations?” I say. “So you’ll know what happened?”

  “I did it last night. Oh, and now that the king has an entire team working on the rehumanization project, it’s way easier. The case worker makes sure every vampire is prepared to enter the human world again. They even have classes and group therapy to deal with the loss of vampire-life memory.”

  Damned those Vanderhorsts! Always having to be the heroes.

  On the other hand, I saw what Miriam went through. She took the cure before they’d figured out the correct dosage. Her side effects were not nearly as extreme as mine, but she ended up losing more than just her vampire memories. The cure shaved off an additional decade from her age and mind. When she woke, she was reborn as a twenty-year-old with zero recollection of losing her parents, of meeting me or Vanderhorst, of having a daughter, or being turned. It was a shock when she finally realized she was thirty-two and a large chunk of her life was missing. Frankly, even though I was reveling in my wicked plans at the time, I worried for her. Vanderhorst had once again failed to protect her. He should have done proper research and understood the side effects of his concoction. But no. The great Michael Vanderhorst was so desperate to prove himself the hero, the vampire knight in shining armor, that he rushed ahead.