Samhain Publishing

Gods! She was sweet. The sweetest woman he’d had in all his many centuries.

And he’d had many.

Temptation lured him to drain her dry and take all of her precious essence, but he hadn’t gone through the trouble of saving her—and himself—for nothing. He’d had a hard time dragging himself off the makeshift stake that had only narrowly missed his heart and then hauling her out of the wreckage in a very weakened state.

He wasn’t about to kill her now.

Not when he wanted to taste of her again and again. No, he would keep this female around and keep her healthy. She was fast becoming an addiction.

He realized, belatedly, that he’d never healed as quickly as he had in the past twenty-four hours with her blood in his system. He’d taken her blood out of necessity before he could find a safe place for them to seek shelter. Luckily, she hadn’t bled much in the crash, but her brain injury had looked serious. He would need more of her essence to heal himself before healing her more fully. Already, he’d reduced the swelling in her skull somewhat with his healing gift. She would be much better, if not fully recovered, after a second session. But to do that, he must be stronger.

Her blood energized him. And her responsive body tripled the energy he derived from her blood. She’d been potent before, but now that she’d come so beautifully for him, his energy level peaked. He was near full strength. As she would be, as soon as he found the strength to tear himself away from her juicy neck and give her the healing she needed.

But she was so sweet!

With a groan, he backed off, using a light zap of his healing touch through his tongue as he licked the sensitive skin of her neck. She squirmed deliciously under him, but he knew he had to finish her healing first, before satisfying other needs.

Settling the unaccustomed hunger for her blood—and her body—would come later.

“Are you all right?” He nuzzled her neck a moment longer.

“I’m…” She gasped as he moved upward to kiss her lips. “I’m okay. Please…”

“Please what?” He lifted to look down at her expression, which held a hint of dismay, a huge helping of bliss and a smattering of residual fear. “Please please you again? I’d be happy to, but it will have to wait until I can heal your wounds a bit more.”

In the darkness he saw the faint elevation of color in her cheeks. It made him hard to realize that even after the blood he’d taken from her beautiful body, she could still blush. He’d always liked modest women—something that was becoming increasingly hard to find in this modern world.

“Heal me? So you’re not… You’re not going to kill me?” Her beautiful eyes were wide with apprehension and he didn’t like her looking at him that way.

“No, sweetheart.” He stroked her hair, trying to impart reassurance with a gentle touch. “I wouldn’t have bothered carrying you from the wreckage if I intended you harm. I’m a healer. Even before I became…what I am…I had the gift of healing. I only want to use it to make you well. What comes after that is in the hands of fate.”

“What are you?”

Atticus sighed. He should have expected the question. He’d left himself wide open for it, but he hadn’t thought beyond the need to comfort this small mortal woman.

“I’m immortal.”

“Like a vampire?” Fear clouded her words, but he also sensed fascination. It was a good sign.

“Some call us that, though it’s not a term I prefer. There’s too much incorrect mythology associated with the word and too much fear as well. We’re mostly peaceful beings, only seeking to co-exist.”

“But you feed on human blood, right?”

He nodded, sitting up by her side. The light in the cavern was dim, but he could see her plainly. He suspected she could make out his form as well, from the way her gaze tracked his movements, though without doubt her vision was less able to cope with the dark than his.

“As you experienced yourself, we do need blood to survive. Blood and sex. We are creatures of energy, and the psychic power released during orgasm is ambrosia to us.”

“So that’s why you made me…”

“Come? Yes, sweetheart.” He liked teasing her, oddly enough, though he usually didn’t waste much time conversing with his mortal prey. “You came beautifully for me and increased my strength. You helped heal me and I will do the same for you in turn.”

He wasn’t a man who often indulged in the pleasures of the flesh. He had many gifts to bring prey to him. Clouding mortal minds so they never knew of his feeding from them had proved to be one of his most powerful abilities. He had often brought females to orgasm as he fed from them, because it usually doubled the potency of their blood, but he didn’t take pleasure for himself. He hadn’t even considered doing so in a very long time. Just one more thing to fall by the wayside as the malaise of his endless existence festered and grew.

But this small woman had ended all that. With one look, she’d sparked a fire that brought him back to life. Back to passion. She fed his hunger like no other. He didn’t regret the impulse that made him save her. He didn’t regret living, though only the day before he had welcomed death. She gave him reason to go on, a flicker of hope in his increasingly dark world.

She might even be the One.

Kelly sat back in her office chair, staring at the computer screen. A heavy sigh ruffled the wisps of hair fringing her forehead. Things at the vineyard had been in upheaval since the Master vampire of the region, Marc LaTour, had moved in. Well, at least for her.

The blasted man seemed to be there every time she turned around, watching her with those dark, mysterious, ancient eyes. Since she worked in the evenings to be on call during most of the hours when her best friend, Lissa, and her new husband, Atticus, needed her, she had precious few moments of daylight when Marc couldn’t corner her.

Just last night he’d dangled that damned yellow Lamborghini in front of her again, revving the engine as he brought it out of the mansion’s twelve-bay garage.

“Just taking your car for a spin, ma petite,” he’d called to her from the driver’s seat. “Wouldn’t you like to join me?”

“No, thank you.” She’d been as firm as possible and turned away as he laughed. The hardest part was she’d have loved to take a drive in the expensive machine. It was the man she needed to avoid if she wanted to keep her sanity.

She’d heard the sports car roar down the driveway a minute later. Marc infuriated her. He’d attempted to give her the car as a gift, which she’d flatly refused, but he persisted. He was like a dog with a bone, and she was the one whose nerves were being chewed on.

Kelly had moved in to one of the many guest rooms at the mansion a few weeks after Atticus and Lissa were married. Her lease on a small apartment in the city had come up for renewal, and she took the opportunity to move out. She’d never enjoyed the hour-long commute each way from the city to the vineyard. She’d been working for Lissa and Atticus since shortly before their wedding as the couple’s assistant. It made sense for her to move into the mansion where she worked and one of her best friends lived. They certainly had plenty of room in the grand building.

Things had rolled along well until Marc showed up with the yellow sports car and a suitcase in tow. Marc had apparently decided, in his high-handed way, that he needed to move in with his friends while his own house was being renovated. Atticus and Marc were long-time associates and close friends.

They were also both immortal.

They’d known each other longer than Kelly had been alive. Centuries, in fact. It still boggled her mind to think that her best friend, Lissa, was now as immortal as her new husband. The thought of living forever was intriguing?even mildly tantalizing?but not practical for Kelly. Just the thought of drinking blood made her shiver. No, she preferred to live a normal life without the need to drink blood. Well, as normal as it could be when one of her best friends was a vampire.

Kelly returned to work, whiling away the hours until sunset when Lissa and Atticus would awaken. Marc, too, unfortunately. Not that he was unattractive. In fact, he was one of the most devastatingly handsome men she’d ever met, but he was way out of her league.

She sat back, staring at the screen again, lost in thought. Kelly jumped when a breath of warm air sizzled past her ear.

It was Marc, of course. He was hovering close, just over her shoulder. She could feel him, though he hadn’t made a sound as he approached. Only now did she hear his slow breaths and the deliberate way he inhaled her scent as if he was smelling a rare perfume.

“I thought they made it clear to you that I’m not a snack.”

“Mmm, I quite agree.” He dipped his head lower, his stubbly cheek rubbing along her neck, raising goose bumps. “I imagine you’d be a full seven-course meal.” He punctuated his words by licking the sensitive skin just over her rapidly beating jugular. “Ah, l’aparatif c’est marvelieux. A very satisfying feast for the senses at that.”

The man had licked her! She could hardly believe it. She was barely suppressing shivers that wanted to course down her spine. It was devastating to realize they were shivers of excitement, not revulsion.

This had to stop. The man was a steamroller and if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up flat. Flat on her back, that is, with him possessing every last inch of her body, her blood and her sanity.

“Mr. LaTour!” She twirled her rolling office chair around, making him move back. “For the last time, I’m not on the menu.”

His dark gaze blazed down at her, humor in its depths. “My proper title is Master, but you can call me Marc, ma cherie.”

She rolled her eyes, putting on a brave front. “I call no man master.”

“Ah, but, ma petite, I’m not just a man. For centuries now, I’ve been something more…and less.” He turned thoughtful as he reflected on just what he was at this point in his long, lonely existence.

“I know what you are.” Kelly jumped to her feet, emphasizing her words with a rudely pointing finger, but he liked her fire. “You’re a womanizer, a scoundrel and someone who believes rules don’t apply to him.”

She was working up a fine head of steam, and Marc enjoyed the show. Kelly was adorable when she was in a temper. It was just one more thing that fascinated him about this petite, complex, mortal woman.

“Sadly, you’re right about some of that. I’ve never followed rules, cherie, because for many years, I’ve been the one who makes them. Alas, I admit to being a bit of a scoundrel as well, but I do object to the term ‘womanizer’. While it is true I enjoy taking my sustenance from females more than males, I always leave them well satisfied and with no complaints. In fact, they rarely even remember me.” Again, that odd pang of something that could be regret sounded through him. He shrugged it off and stepped into her personal space, crowding close and tipping her chin up so he could look deep into her pretty eyes.

“I bet you would remember me though, ma petite. It would be difficult to cloud your fascinating mind, and I believe I like the idea of you thinking of me years into the future, for I will most certainly be thinking of you. You are…” his voice dropped to a low whisper, “…eminently memorable, mademoiselle.”

He leaned in, dipping his head as if to kiss her. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away. She was as trapped as he was. He’d been dreaming of her for weeks now—wanting to know the taste of her lips, the feel of her tongue and the passion of her kiss.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asked it straight out, with a courage he admired.

He shook his head. “I had given it some thought, but you are too interesting to destroy, Carly. Too intelligent.” He stroked her soft hair away from her face. “Too beautiful.”

“Then what are you going to do with me? Why show yourself?”

He stepped back, releasing her chair completely. He paced away a short distance, his eyes following her movements as she straightened her sleeves unnecessarily.

“Now we come to the crux of the matter.” He sighed. “I have been watching you for some time. Since you moved into the farmstead, in fact.”

“The farm? Why?”

His gaze pinned her. “Because I live there as well.” He paused but she made no comment. “Under your home, several stories down into the earth is a replica of the farmstead. I have been living there in peace and safety for over a century. For all that time, the same family owned the land and house above and we peacefully co-existed until old Jacob died. He had no family to leave the place to in his will, so it was sold.”

“To me.” Her voice was a surprisingly calm whisper.

“To you,” he agreed with a nod. “Now I am faced with the problem of a mortal inhabiting the space above me who has no idea of my existence and no loyalty to the agreement I had with Jacob’s ancestors, binding on all subsequent generations. That agreement is, in effect, null and void now that their line is ended.”

“So you want to make a new agreement with me?”

He smiled. “I thought so at first.” He moved closer to her once again.

“But?” she prompted.

“But I recently became dissatisfied with the old arrangement. I want to broker a new deal with you, Carly. A much more intimate deal.” His hands framed her face, tilting her head up to his. “I want you, Carly. In my bed at night and safeguarding my rest during the day.”

“Does this also include…um…my blood?”

His smile turned carnal. “Indeed. I want to taste you, Carly. I want to drink you and take your essence into myself. But I won’t hurt you. I will only bring you pleasure, like I’ve been doing in our shared dreams, only much, much better.”

“Oh, God.” She was overwhelmed by him…by everything.

“I can see I’ve given you a great deal to think about.” He stood and headed for the door. “Finish your work here and I’ll see you home.” He turned to look at her, his dark eyes pinning her in place. “I’ll give you a bit of time to decide, Carly, but I can’t wait long. I want you more than any woman I’ve ever met and believe me, that is saying something. Call my name, and I will come when you’re ready to leave.”



How she got through the final installation and testing, she never knew. Around four in the morning, the job was finally done. True, it had taken her quite a bit longer than she had originally estimated but with such chaotic thoughts racing through her mind what else could she expect? It wasn’t every day she was propositioned by an honest-to-goodness vampire.

That thought and several others raced through her mind every few moments despite her best efforts to stay focused on the project. She had to finish it tonight. It was important she settle her work before tackling the much larger personal problem she had just inherited by buying a cursed farm.

How was she to know there was a vampire living under her house? Shouldn’t the real estate agent have disclosed something as serious as that? She laughed inwardly at the thought, knowing the old man who had owned the house before her had taken the secret to his grave as his ancestors had before him.

They had lived with the vampire, apparently with no ill effect. All the people she had spoken to about old Jacob had loved him. He had been a happy old man, always ready with a kind word or a helping hand, or so everyone claimed. No way could he have been some kind of evil servant of the undead. Right?

But Dmitri wanted more from her than peaceful coexistence. He wanted her blood and her body. He wanted her to be his mistress, she realized with some shock. Here she’d been hoping since she was a little girl to find some good man and become his wife. Apparently fate had something different in mind for her. She was to be the mistress of a vampire. Either that…or what? She realized with a shiver that Dmitri hadn’t given her an alternative.

When she could delay no longer, she called his name softly. In moments he was there, his dark gaze boring into her, watching her every move as if he could see into her mind. And perhaps he could, she thought with a gasp.

“Can you read my mind?”

He chuckled. “Actually, not well. Most mortals have surface thoughts that are easy to pick up, but your mind is more complex, Carly. Beautifully complex.”

“Well, thank heaven for that,” she muttered but still, she could tell from his amused expression, he had heard every word.

“Come.” He picked up her coat from the chair and held it open for her.

She allowed him to help her as he had the night before and, as before, he did not release her right away. He held her close, wrapped in the coat and his strong arms while his mouth teased the skin behind her ear and down to where the pulse beat strong in her neck.

She felt his sharp teeth scrape over her flesh. It sent shivers down her spine but whether of fear or arousal was anyone’s call. She knew what he was now and it gave every one of his motions a whole new meaning.

He released her and stepped back, holding the door for her. When they got to her car, he simply held out his hand for the keys before taking the wheel and guiding them safely, if a bit speedily, home. Apparently the undead liked to drive fast.