Scarlet Heat

  “Oh, right. I, uh, guess that’s my fault.” He gave me a sidelong look as he turned the truck onto a smaller dirt road.

  I said nothing. He could assign himself the blame if he wanted to but I wasn’t going to say anything else. I’m not going to beg, I told myself, even though his warm scent was making my thirst for blood worse and worse.

  Victor cleared his throat and killed the truck’s motor.

  “Well, here we are.”

  I looked out of the window and saw a large clearing inside a dense thicket of woods. This being Florida, there were plenty of vines and creepers too, all of them dark greenish-black in the deepening night.

  The house itself looked like an upscale log cabin—one of the two-story kind with high ceilings, hardwood floors and a fireplace in every room. The arched eves managed to look graceful and rustic at the same time and the windows sparkled silver in the moonlight.

  “It’s lovely,” I said grudgingly. “I’ve always liked log cabins.”

  “Designed and built it myself.” There was an unmistakable note of pride in the big were’s voice. “Wait ‘til you see it in the sunlight. It’s really, uh…” He trailed off, obviously realizing what he was saying. “I mean, never mind. Come on.”

  I started to open my door but he was around the side of the truck in a flash. He offered me a hand to get down from the high cab. After a moment’s consideration, I took it and stepped down onto the sparse grass of the driveway. His skin was as hot as I had imagined and I took my hand out of his as soon as I could.

  “Can I get your stuff?” Victor asked gruffly.

  I felt some of my resentment melt a little. Clearly he was at least making an effort to be less of an ass.

  “I don’t have any,” I reminded him gently. “You didn’t really give me time to pack anything.” In fact, he had dragged me away from Under the Fang with nothing but the clothes on my back—a simple black skirt and a white button-down silk blouse with black flats. It was one of the plainest outfits I owned, which was why I liked it. Celeste always liked to dress me up and show me off like a doll in expensive dresses with the most elaborate hair and makeup possible. I was glad to put that part of my life behind me.

  “Oh, sorry.” Victor rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, let’s go in. I’ll show you around and then I really have to go.”

  “Right. You have to, uh, change.” I nodded stiffly and followed him to the wooden doorframe. Victor produced a set of keys and unlocked the front door with a muted jingle. Then he stepped inside, clearly expecting me to follow.

  “Okay, so this is the kitchen,” he remarked, flicking on the light switches so that the long room was flooded with light. “I don’t guess you’ll use it much but—hey…” He turned with a frown to see me still standing in the doorway. “Why are you still over there?”

  “You didn’t invite me in.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m a vampire—I can’t enter the dwelling of a living person without an invitation.”

  “Oh, right.” He cleared his throat. “Damn it, I’m making a fucking mess of this whole thing. Uh, Taylor, would you like to come in?”

  Not really, I thought but was too polite to say out loud.

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, stepping over the threshold and into the house that was going to be my home for the next three months. “I appreciate your invitation.”

  “Sure.” Victor shrugged uneasily, his broad shoulders rolling under his plain white t-shirt. I had yet to see him in anything but t-shirts, jeans, and work boots. Except for the ill-fitting jacket he’d borrowed from Corbin for our “wedding,” that was.

  “So, like I was saying, this is the kitchen,” he continued, once I had come forward to join him. “You can, um, make yourself at home and there’s plenty of stuff in the fridge—”

  “I don’t eat,” I reminded him. I was hoping against hope that he would offer me some of his blood before he went, but I wasn’t going to ask. Not even if I starved to death.

  “Yeah, of course not. You need…need blood. My blood.” He was looking more and more nervous.

  “Only if you want to give it.” I looked down at my hands. My fingers were clenched together, the knuckles white. My throat felt like it was lined with barbed wire and my gut twisted with need. Please, I thought. Oh please…oh please…

  “Fine.” Victor seemed to come to a sudden decision. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, both hands braced on the countertop, and turned his head, baring his neck for me.

  I approached him slowly, my heart suddenly pounding. His big body was tense, the muscles standing out hard under his thin white shirt. Under his olive skin, I could see a steady pulse beating in the strong column of his throat.

  The closer I got, the more intimidating I found him. He was so massive, so alive—his muscular body pulsing with animal energy. Even though as vampire, I’m supernaturally strong, I sensed he was stronger—much stronger. He could crush me in a heartbeat if he wanted to. I could feel his heat, could almost taste his wild scent on the tip of my tongue…

  He’s so big…too big. I wanted his blood desperately—my fangs were fully extended and aching to pierce his warm olive skin. But to get close enough to feed, I would also have to be close enough for him to grab me—hurt me. My time with Roderick rose before my eyes and I pushed it back down again quickly.

  That’s over now—I won’t think about it. And Victor promised not to hurt me. Corbin made him swear an oath. It’ll be okay. Everything is going to be fine…isn’t it?

  Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to go right up beside him. But even hunched down as he was, his throat was still far out of reach. I began to wish I had worn heels instead of my sensible black flats—the four inch stilettos Celeste used to make me wear would have made getting to the tantalizing vein I saw in his neck a hell of a lot easier.

  Standing on tiptoes, I touched his arm lightly to brace myself as I tried to reach him. His biceps tensed rock hard under my fingertips and he twitched, reminding me of a stray dog uncertain how it feels about being stroked by a stranger.

  “Hurry the fuck up, will you?” he growled. “I never did like needles and this is a damn awkward position to be in.”

  It was too much—he was too big, too threatening. I lost my nerve and stepped back.

  “I can’t reach you. Maybe…maybe you should just go.”

  “No, damn it.” He straightened up and shook his head fiercely. “Just look at you—now that I see you in the light I can tell you’re in a bad way.”

  “I’m fine.” I drew myself up and crossed my arms over my chest protectively. “Just fine.”

  “Hell no, you’re not,” he said, almost angrily. “You look like a stiff wind would blow you over. You need blood.”

  He took a step toward me and I took a step back. I didn’t like the way he loomed over me—it made me feel small and trapped. It brought back memories I would rather forget.

  “I can wait until you get back.” I swallowed and heard a dry click in my throat. “Honestly.”

  “No, you can’t. You need to get some now—I’m going out tonight and I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He came toward me again—and again, I backed up.

  “Why?” I made myself ask, though my heart was pounding and my lips felt numb. “Are you, uh, planning a trip?”

  He barked a short laugh. “Something like that. Sometimes when the moon calls me like she is tonight, I…it takes me a little while to come…to come all the way back.” He scowled. “I really can’t explain it more than that.”

  “Oh,” I whispered. I took another step back and felt something hard hit my hip. Casting a glance over my shoulder, I saw that I was trapped with the L-shaped kitchen counter at my back. I had literally backed myself into a corner.

  “Look,” he started, coming so close I could feel his heat radiating against my skin. He started to duck down, his face close to mine—too close. “What if I just—”

  “Please,” I whispered, my throat tight, and tur
ned my head away. I pressed my cheek to my shoulder and squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the counter until the edge of it bit into my fingers. “Please don’t.”

  “What the hell?” Victor sounded genuinely uncertain. He straightened up and took a step back, putting some much needed space between us.

  Immediately I felt like I could breathe again.

  “Thank you.” I forced myself to look up at him. “I just…it’s hard for me. You’re…so big.”

  “Sorry.” His voice was unexpectedly gentle. “Didn’t mean to uh, scare you.”

  “I’m not scared,” I said but the tremble in my voice gave away the lie. “Maybe this isn’t going to work. Maybe…maybe you should just go,” I mumbled.

  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed impatiently.

  “I told you I don’t know when I’ll be back. The Moon is calling me—do you want blood or not?”

  “I do. I…I need it,” I heard myself confess. “But please…not from your neck.”

  He frowned. “What’s wrong with my fucking neck? I don’t offer it to just anybody, you know. If any other were saw me giving the sign of submission to a Goddamn vamp—”

  “It’s too much. Too close.” I put a hand to my chest where I could feel my heart thumping. “Please…if I could just drink from your wrist? Would that be okay?”

  He looked thoughtful. “Actually, that would probably be better. Not so hard to hide the marks later.” He gave me a quizzical glance. “Unless you can heal them up so nobody can tell you’ve been biting me?”

  I thought of the ugly scars that had marked Addison’s arms and wrists until Corbin had healed her. Scars that had been caused by my fangs. I shook my head regretfully.

  “I’m afraid not. I’m not very, uh, old or experienced as vampires go. I was only born to darkness six years ago.”

  “All right, well, I guess we all have to start somewhere.” He sighed. “Wrist it is, then.” He held out his left wrist and then changed his mind and offered me his right instead. “Left handed,” he explained when I looked at him questioningly.

  “I see.” I looked at the strong wrist and muscular forearm he was holding out to me. His hands were large and well formed, the fingertips tapered like those of an artist. He was surprisingly unhairy too—I hadn’t been around many weres and I’d always imagined they must be almost as hairy in human form as they were when they took their animal shapes. But Victor only had a light dusting of coarse black hair on the back of his arms. I wondered if he had a hairy chest and pushed the thought away. What was wrong with me? He was offering me blood and I was starving—I needed to feed, not admire his admittedly impressive physique.

  I focused my attention on the bracelet of blue veins that pulsed on the underside of his wrist and tried to concentrate on one in particular, calling it toward me.

  In the week and a half since rescuing me from Celeste, my new master Corbin had given me some tips on how to be a better, more effective vampire. Most of what he’d taught me was simple, including calling a vein to the surface as I was doing now. If only Celeste would have had the time and patience to teach me, maybe I would have made a better vampire. But my petite blonde ex-mistress had no patience with ignorance or incompetence of any kind so I had remained at the bottom of the food chain, uneducated and uninformed about my new existence until recently.

  To my relief, the vein began to swell until it presented a decent target for my aching fangs. Unfortunately, I still wasn’t good enough to give pleasure as I fed, like a master vampire could, but at least I could strive to hurt my donor as little as possible.

  Victor said nothing to the subtle display of my power. He simply stood there waiting, his arm at the right height for my mouth. When I gave him a quick glance, his eyes flashed bright gold and he gave me a barely perceptible nod as if to say, do it.

  I couldn’t wait any longer. The warm musk of his scent filled my nose and under that I could smell the hot copper of his blood. My empty stomach twisted and my throat was parched.

  I struck, my fangs piercing the big vein I’d called, slicing through his flesh and digging deep to get the nourishment I craved.

  Victor grunted and I could tell I’d hurt him. But he didn’t try to jerk away—he held rock solid as I fed from him, drawing the rich, delicious blood out in great, hot mouthfuls, gulping it down like a starving beggar, feasting for the first time.

  And God it was good…so incredibly good and different from anything I had ever tasted. I had never had were blood before—most vamps haven’t since we consider each other mortal enemies. To be honest, though, I hadn’t even had much human blood, aside from my friend Addison’s, which was sweet and tasted slightly of strawberries. That was nice but this was special…incredible.

  Victor’s blood reminded me of fine, rich, strong wine. Or maybe an expensive whiskey. It gushed down my throat, quenching my terrible thirst in the first soothing wave and setting a warm fire glowing in my belly. I could feel its effects immediately—my throat was no longer lined with barbed wire and my stomach wasn’t trying to gnaw a hole in my backbone. I felt refreshed…healed.

  Beside me, Victor shifted impatiently and I reminded myself that my miraculous meal had a name and a burning desire to get outside and answer the call of the wild. In fact, he was probably only about two minutes from turning into a huge, shaggy wolf with appetites of his own.

  I could have drunk from him all night, sipping that warm, rich blood, savoring it like the most expensive vintage—but that wasn’t an option. I took two more hasty mouthfuls and then drew back, retracting my fangs.

  Victor was watching me, an unreadable expression on his stern features.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, licking my lips to get the last traces of his miraculous blood. “Did I hurt you?”

  He shifted from foot to foot, frowning. “It was nothing. Not as bad as I thought. Except—”

  “Except?” I asked, humbly, trying to prompt him. “If you tell me I might be able to make it better for you, uh, next time.”

  “Better than that?” He looked at me incredulously and shifted again. The movement drew my eyes to his crotch. With a shock, I saw that he had an extremely impressive erection pressing hard against the front of his jeans. Had I caused that? And if so, how?

  “I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. His blood had had a calming effect on me but suddenly I felt nervous all over again. Was he going to come after me now? Was he going to try something?

  “No, I’m sorry,” he said roughly. “I don’t know why that, uh…damn. So fucking weird.” He shook his head, his eyes going hard. “I have to go,” he said abruptly.

  “Oh. Of course.” I slid away from him, trying to give him more room. “Um…have fun.”

  “Don’t expect me back for awhile.”

  “Oh…I—” But before I could finish, he was out the kitchen door and gone into the night.

  Chapter Two—Victor

  I loped a few yards to the edge of the clearing and then just stood there for a minute, trying to make sense of it all. I could feel the call of the Moon, could feel the brand on my skin, burning like a small sun nestled in my lower back, but I fought it for a little while longer. If I let the wolf come forward now, I would never understand what had just happened. The wolf has no words, it thinks in pictures not sentences and it runs purely on instinct. I desperately needed to think about the strange vampire girl I had somehow found myself bonded to and my animal form was the worst place to do that.

  “What the hell?” I muttered to myself, trying to shut out the silvery voice of the moon and her endless siren song. “What the fuck is going on?”

  It was a fair question. I hadn’t been acting like myself tonight and it wasn’t just the Change coming on me that caused it. It was Taylor—somehow she was making me act weird.

  Driving in the truck with her, I had been doing my best to ignore her because of her scent. Most vamps smell pretty disgusting to me—like the snake cage at the zoo—all leathery and reptilian. And the old
er they get, the worse the stink is, at least to my sensitive were nose.

  But not Taylor—she had a warm, fresh, devastatingly feminine scent. Nothing like a vamp but not exactly human either. There was something strange and intensely attractive about that scent and it pissed me off. Pissed me off because I shouldn’t find anything attractive about her—she was a fucking fanger for God’s sake.

  I don’t hate vamps, not like most of my kind do, but I don’t go out of my way to spend time with them either. Corbin had been an exception—only because I had felt more comfortable dealing with him than the local pack when it came to taking a loan for my business. If I had known how he would make me pay it back, I would have run a fucking mile from that undead bastard.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as the moon called me, clouding my mind. What was wrong with me? First, I had actually offered her my neck—a sign of submission among weres. It was a sign I had never given to another living creature my whole life and I offered it to a vamp. Then, when she had refused my neck and taken blood from my wrist instead, I had gotten a fucking hard-on from it.

  I looked down at my jeans, which were still tented, the ridge of my shaft showing through the denim. My cock was so hard it ached and all from letting that little vamp sink her fangs into me—what the hell was that all about?

  It’s not fair, muttered a voice in my head. She’s fucking gorgeous and she’s got that scent too. How am I supposed to live with that for three months?

  By not laying a hand on her, that was how. She was a vamp and I was a were—we would keep our distance. And anyway, it wasn’t like Taylor wanted me anywhere near her.

  I remembered the proud, hurt, defiant look in her big blue eyes when she’d told me someone had broken every bone in her body and she’d still managed to heal. What kind of sick bastard would do something like that to someone as beautiful and delicate as her? Whoever it was, they had really done a number on her. I flashed on her reaction when I’d gotten too close while she was trying to feed from me. She’d flinched away and the fear in her face was so raw it made my gut ache.