Once Upon a Vampire by Mari Mancusi
What on earth was a member of my street team doing down here? And why was she walking out of the coven master’s inner sanctum, as if she owned the place? Was she one of those blood donors Logan spoke about? Or…
She plopped herself down beside me, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Oh my God, it’s such an honor to meet you,” she gushed. “Your books. They are life-changers. I’ve read every single one of them at least three times. The way you describe vampires!” She pretended to swoon. “If only they were like that in real life.”
I frowned. What was it with people telling me my characters weren’t like real vampires? Though I supposed they weren’t entirely wrong, from what I’d seen so far. Still, couldn’t they just leave me a one-star review somewhere? Did they have to keep rubbing it in my face?
“It’s…uh, nice to meet you, too,” I stammered, feeling as if she expected me to say something. “Do you…are you…?” Okay, so my mouth wasn’t working too well. But do you blame me?
She grinned. “Yes. I’m a vampire. I’m also a fairy. And I’m on the cheerleading squad.”
“Cheerleading?” I looked her in disbelief, then blushed. Because duh, that was like the least weird thing she had just said.
“It’s a long story.” She smiled at me. “What are you doing here? Are you doing research for your books? Do you need a model for your new characters? Just say the word—I’m your vampire!”
“It’s a little more serious than that, I’m afraid,” I said, staring down at my hands. I told her about the vampire at the club. About Logan taking me back home. About Slayer Inc.
“What?” Rayne cried indignantly when I mention the vampire slaying organization. “How dare they threaten my favorite author! I am going to have a word with T-Dogg.”
“T-Dogg?”
“Oh, Mr. Teifert. He’s the Slayer Inc. Vice President. Also, the drama teacher at my old high school. Super nice guy, actually. At least when he doesn’t hold a commission to kill you.”
“I’m sure he’s…lovely.”
She rose to her feet. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” She headed to the door. “No way I’m letting anyone slay you. At least not until you finish your series.”
I gave her a weak smile, suddenly reminded of a certain Stephen King book. “That’s…um…very kind of you….Um…”
“Rayne,” she reminded me. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here’s my cell. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
I took it from her, still feeling completely baffled by the scene. “Thank you,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem.” She paused, then added. “Oh, but I do have one request.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Can Jade please get her own story someday? And her own vampire? It’s so not fair having the sister be nothing more than a sidekick with a great sense of humor.”
I laughed. “You definitely are not the first reader to ask that.”
“But I’m the reader who’s saving your life,” she shot back, not missing a beat. “So, you know. Turn around, fair play, all that?”
“I’ll consider it.”
Rayne gave me one last smile, then danced out of the room. I watched her go, shaking my head. Who would have thought I’d find a fan down here? It really was a strange world.
The door opened then. Logan stepped out, a troubled look on his face. I rose to my feet. “Is everything okay?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said, though his expression said otherwise. He forced a smile to his face. “Jareth said we could stay here for a bit. Where we’ll be safe.”
“Great,” I said. And I was surprised to realize I actually meant it. Before tonight I would have been horrified at the idea of sleeping in an underground crypt filled with real life vampires. But it had been a long 24 hours.
A porter showed up, seemingly out of nowhere. “I’ll take you to your room,” he said.
I frowned. “He means rooms, right?” I hissed at Logan. He shot me a warning look, but didn’t reply.
We walked down an ornate hallway with dark carpet and oil portraits on the wall, alternating with dim sconces. I tried to take in every detail—maybe I could use this place in one of my books someday. If I got out of this mess in the end.
The porter stopped in front of a nondescript door that looked, to me anyway, exactly the same as every other door we’d passed in the hall. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, silver key. No card locks at Hotel Transylvania evidently. I suddenly wondered if they had Wi-Fi. I still hadn’t emailed Darla. She must be freaking out hardcore at this point.
The door creaked open. Logan gestured for me to step inside. I did, finding the equivalent of a hotel room. A king sized bed. A dresser. An armchair. No windows, of course. But no coffins either. So there was that.
“Is this my room?” I asked.
The porter looked confused. “It’s for the two of you,” he said. “You are betrothed, are you not?”
“Betrothed?” I coughed out.
Logan stamped on my foot. Then he put a loving arm around me and smiled at the porter. “This is perfect,” he said, handing him a wad of bills. “Thank you.”
The porter shrugged. “Do you need ice?”
“We’ll be fine. Just…call me when my donor arrives.”
The porter nodded, as if this was a perfectly natural request. Blood room service. Why not? He stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Leaving me once again alone with a vampire.
13
I waited to hear the porter’s footsteps fade. Then I turned to face Logan, hands on my hips. “Betrothed?” I spit out. “What the hell?”
He gave me a withering look. “I had no choice,” he said. “Bringing a mortal down to the Blood Coven sanctuary is already forbidden. A mortal who is wanted by Slayer Inc.? That’s even worse.” He walked over to the nearby chair, sinking down onto it. He was so tall, he barely fit.
“So you told them we were engaged,” I concluded.
“Yes. It is acceptable, though not exactly encouraged, for vampires to get married to mortals when they’re younger,” he said. “It’s only later, when they close in on the thousand-year mark that they are required to take a Blood Mate and leave mortal life behind for good.”
“I see.”
“Don’t worry,” he said dryly. “Your honor will remain intact. I’ll sleep in the chair. You can take the bed.”
I frowned, giving him a once-over. “You barely fit in that chair. There’s no way you’ll be able to sleep in it.”
“I’ve slept in worse.”
I glanced at the bed. It did look cozy. And I was exhausted at this point. I knew the second my head hit the pillow I’d pass out. Also, if Logan had been interested in taking my honor, or however he put it, he had had many chances already. It would seem unlikely he’d pick now for my vampire deflowering.
“This is ridiculous,” I said. “It’s a huge bed. We can share it.”
He gave me a doubtful look. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Dude, we’ve passed uncomfortable miles ago. I’ll make it work.”
To prove my point, I kicked off my shoes and crawled into the bed, sticking my feet under the covers. The sheets felt silky against my aching skin. Clearly high thread count. I needed to check to see what brand they were before I left.
I turned to Logan, patting the side of the bed. He eyed it for a moment, then joined me, also taking off his shoes. He didn’t go under the covers though. I had to admit, he was pretty honorable for a thirty-five-year-old. Maybe some of those more Victorian vampire manners had worn off on him.
I felt something flutter in my chest. He really was a nice guy. I had totally misjudged him back at my book signing and then again at the charity ball. He’d seemed so aggressive back then. As if he was used to just taking what he wanted. Now I was seeing a different side of him. And honestly, it felt more ge
I raked my gaze down his body. I kind of liked him in my bed, too, if we were being honest here. Which was crazy, to say the least. I, Hannah, did not do guys in my bed. But, hey, maybe I was having of change of heart, too. I felt a warm feeling rise in my throat.
“So what did Jareth say?” I asked, pushing it back down. After all, Logan had basically just promised not to jump me. Which likely meant he didn’t want to be jumped by me either.
“Just…that he’d do what he could,” Logan replied, getting that uncomfortable look on his face again.
I frowned. “You don’t sound too optimistic.”
“Eh.” He waved me off. “I’m sure it will all work out. In any case I made it very clear to Jareth that you should not have been involved in any of it. That you were an innocent party—attacked without provocation. No matter what ends up happening to me, I made sure you will be able to go free. Get back to your old life.”
I nodded slowly, knowing the words should be meaning more to me than they were. I should be happy—thrilled—to know that this could all just go away. I could get back to reality. My apartment, my books. Darla and my cat. Leave all this supernatural stuff behind. But then…
“What about you?” I blurted out.
For a moment he said nothing. Then he sighed. “There will be a trial, I’m sure,” he said. “I’ll hire a lawyer. Try to make my case. Find some character witnesses…” He shrugged. “I have a lot of friends in the vampire community. And a spotless record. Surely they will take that under consideration.”
But something in his eyes told me that he wasn’t sure at all. Which made something painful tug hard at my chest. Instinctively, I reached out, slipping my hand into his. “I’m sorry,” I said for the millionth time.
Logan squeezed my hand. He had such strong fingers, and yet so gentle at the same time. He turned to look at me, his eyes meeting mine. He looked so sad. It tore at my heart. When he reached up to brush a lock of hair out of my eyes something inside of me melted.
“Oh Hannah,” he said. “I wanted so badly to show you how vampires lived. I’m afraid I haven’t given you much to work with.”
I forced a small smile, my heart pounding in my chest. Our faces were inches apart. Our hands entwined. Suddenly I felt brave.
“You still have time,” I said slowly, letting the words drag out. Then I tilted my head, ever so slightly toward him. It was a small move, barely noticeable. But for me it might as well have been moving mountains. Giving an invitation I had so long withheld from any guy.
For a moment he just looked at me. As if he couldn’t believe what I was offering. But I held his gaze, assuring him it was what I wanted. And so he reached up, taking my head in his hands and pulling me toward him until our mouths were on one another’s. Our tongues entwined in a wild dance that sent shivers to my toes. My mind spun. Nerve endings tickling my every extremity.
Oh God. This was happening This was really happening.
I groaned as I moved against him, suddenly lost in a world of lust and desire I hadn’t felt in years. His hands dropped to my shoulders, then to my waist, dragging me closer until I was flush against him. My breasts squashed against his solid chest. Our legs wrapped in a complicated puzzle. He tasted so good. He felt so good. And it had been so long. So, so long since--
His hand dragged up my ribcage, his thumb grazing the tip of my breast. I gasped as the sensation struck me like a lightning strike.
Then, something in my brain spiked. And horrifying visions rocked through my synapses.
Rough hands. Grabbing at my flesh. Ignoring my pleas. Ignoring my sobs.
Somehow my hands found Logan’s chest and I shoved him backward with all my might. Then I lunged off the bed, so fast I almost fell on the floor. Instead, I stumbled to the back side of the room, by the door, sinking to the ground, hugging my knees in my hands. Tears fell from my eyes like rain, staining my shirt.
Logan stared at me for a moment. A dazed look on his face. Then he rose from the bed. Walked over to me.
“Don’t touch me!” I cried. “Please don’t touch me!”
To his credit, he didn’t try. Even though he looked as if he wanted to desperately. And not in a sexual way either. But as if he just wanted to hold me. To comfort me.
And a huge part of me wanted him to do just that. To have him wrap those strong arms around me. To have him whisper in my ear that everything would be okay. But that would just lead to more of what had just happened. What couldn’t happen again.
God. I buried my face in my lap. I felt like such a fool. What was I thinking? That I was some normal girl with a normal guy who could just enjoy stuff normal people enjoyed?
Logan walked to the opposite side of the room. Sank down into that damn miniature chair again. I waited for him to say something. Anything. But he didn’t. Which was really nice of him, actually. Most people would have demanded answers. What the hell was that all about? Why was I acting so crazy? Why was I such a tease?
But Logan was not like most people. Of that, I was certain.
I sucked in a breath, my face flushed with how ridiculous my actions must seem to him. After all, this was not a dark alleyway. I hadn’t been in any danger. I didn’t think for a moment that Logan wouldn’t have listened to me if I asked him nicely to stop.
And yet I had, once again, totally freaked out. Pushed myself away from a guy. Was I doomed to this pattern for the rest of my life? Would I ever be a real woman again? A woman with the capacity to share herself with a guy? Or had I let that monster rob me of that, too?
The urge to cut came sharp as a blade. I stared down at the white crosses on my left arm. The bandage still on my right. There was probably a scab. I could pick the scab…
“That’s not a good idea,” Logan said. “Not here.”
My head jerked up. “What isn’t?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest all over again. I felt like I was going to be sick.
He nodded in the direction of my arm. My face burned with shame.
“Did you read my thoughts?” I demanded, rising to my feet.
He shook his head. “I can’t read thoughts,” he said. “Some vampires can. I can’t.”
I glanced down at my arm. “Then how…?”
“Simple. I see your past, written on your arms. I know what you did in my bathroom. And I know you want to do it here.” He gave me a rueful look. “But that would be a very bad mistake. There are a lot of vampires here tonight. They would break down that door to get to you if they smelled even a hint of your blood. And then I’d have to kill them all. Which,” he added with a small quirk at his mouth. “Wouldn’t exactly help my case.”
I groaned, leaning back against the wall. Could I be any more embarrassed than I was at this very moment? “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I made you feel uncomfortable.”
I thought back to the scene on the bed. “You made me feel good,” I said. “Just…maybe a little too good.” I blushed again. “I don’t…do that kind of thing. Not with anyone.”
“Why not?”
It was such a simple question. But with such a complicated answer. “It’s a long story.”
He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got all day.”
He was right, of course. We weren’t going anywhere. But that didn’t mean I wanted to spend the time spilling my heart to a practical stranger.
But was he a stranger? Something inside me niggled. He was starting not to feel that way. Sure, we hadn’t known each other long. But the intensity of our brief relationship had fast tracked us to a strange sense of intimacy of a friendship that was far longer.
I didn’t have a lot of people I trusted these days. I lost most of my so-called friends after that night. When they stuck up for him instead of me. When they said I shou
Sure, I had Darla. But Darla was so innocent. So sweet and happy. I never wanted to drag her down with my darkness.
But now, here I was, sitting in a room with darkness himself. And for some weird reason I felt compelled to tell him everything. Let him hear it all. Every last dirty detail. And learn, once and for all, if he was just like the rest of them.
“I was raped,” I blurted out. Because that’s what it was. Why beat around the bush? You could call it date rape. Somehow that seemed to soften it in people’s minds. As if that was somehow better. That someone you knew and trusted did those things to you. The line of consent blurring. Had you been kissing? Had you worn a short skirt? Had you teased him all night, batting your eyes?
Such a slut.
Totally asked for it.
He’d had such a great future ahead of him. So much to look forward to.
And then she…ruined his life.
It would have been so much better had it been a stranger. Some random face I could push out of my head and never think of again. A violent act I could condemn utterly and know was not my fault whatsoever.
But raped by your own boyfriend? That was a slippery slope.
“I’d been seeing this guy for a couple months,” I said. “Casually. We were both super busy in school—he was studying to be a politician. His dad was—is a state senator. But whenever we had free time we’d go out. He was pretty nice—or so I thought. Charming, handsome, popular. You know the type.”
A shadow seemed to cross Logan’s face. But, “Yes,” was all he said.
“Anyway, he invited me to this house party. In some big mansion off campus that one of his friends’ parents’ owned. It was supposed to be the party of the semester. I was pretty excited to get an invite.” I snorted. “Let’s just say I wasn’t the most popular girl in school, even then.