Undead in the City

UNDEAD IN THE CITY

Hera St.Aubyn

® www.loose-id.com

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***** This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (violence).

Undead in the City Hera St.Aubyn

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924 Carson CityNV89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright © May 2007 byHera St.Aubyn All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-466-4 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML,MobiPocket , and MS Reader Printed in theUnited States of America Editor: C. B. Calsing Cover Artist: April Martinez Chapter One

Malveauxskulked in the shadows along the abandoned industrial buildings. A relentless blizzard -- an uninvited Canadian visitor -- pounded the urban landscape, causing even those with exceptional vision to falter in the wall of white. Hard snowflakes, slamming earthward like mini ice darts, caused him to raise

an arm above his eyes as a shield to forestall the storm’s assault. The frozen projectiles couldn’t hurt him -- almost nothing could -- but the act of protecting one’s eyes was habitual.Instinctual, perhaps. Even for beings that hadn’t been human for a very long time. Parts of the inner city ofDetroit had become the stuff of nightmares. Not only because they were inhabited by creatures of the night like him, but because of the frighteningly ingenious methods humans had devised for harming each other. And they calledhim a monster. One benefit to frequenting this seedy part of town was the readily-available food source. Prostitutes displayed their charms for pitifully small amounts of money, and they were always more than willing to donate a bit of blood for the right price, even in a storm like tonight’s. He quite enjoyed sucking the throats of these ladies of the evening, then erasing their memories of said event. They always struck him as painfully honest, acknowledging the very human need for sex, unlike the masses who pretended to feel no such compulsions. He was excruciatingly aware of his needs.Blood and sex. Even though those two things weren’t commonly linked in most vampires,Malveaux’s creator had been unique. A human who’d been addicted to sex of all kinds before being forced into vampirism against his will, he’d passed along the mutated desires to his vampire offspring -- who were also taken against their wills.A family tradition. Certainly not Norman Rockwell’s idyllic vision, but a tradition, nonetheless. Malveauxhad sated his bloodlust earlier in the evening, but had yet to fully relieve the aching, throbbing tension in his cock. He knew that if he didn’t find another satisfactory outlet for the building sexual pressure soon, he’d kill. And killing was always more trouble than it was worth, not to mention messy. He could have tempered his sword -- metaphorically speaking -- with the street-walking blood donor he’d sampled earlier, but she’d smelled of garlic. Even though there was no truth to the old wives’ tale about garlic repelling vampires, he had a personal dislike for the odor. Foul aroma aside, he’d guided her hand onto his cock and used mind control to encourage her to stroke vigorously while he fed. He wasn’t inclined to add his juices to the fluids he scented in the long-unwashed area between her legs. Even a vampire had standards. Unfortunately, a hand job was the equivalent of finding a drop of water in the desert when an oasis was needed. SoMalveaux prowled the filthy streets in the middle of the worst blizzard of the year, seeking a moist, warm place to sheath his aching phallus. He sought a human female with soft, round breasts and a pleasant-smelling, tightcunt . Not that he was limited to women, his creator had seen to that. But he definitely leaned in that direction. All thoughts about his flexible sexual tastes ceased suddenly as his finely-tuned radar engaged. Sensing an almost-imperceptible disturbance behind him, he moved with preternatural speed into the nearest trash-strewn alley, pressing himself behind a filthy, overflowing dumpster. Going completely still, as only the strongest vampires could, he waited for his guests to arrive. He’d known it was only a matter of time until they tracked him down. As good as he was at evading their attempts to killhim, he’d gotten sidetracked by what felt like a perpetual erection.Malveaux wasn’t usually held prisoner by his cock to such a degree. Whether he wanted to face it or not, the relentlessly escalating urge could only mean one thing: the legend was true. He’d be forced to create his own offspring soon, or go mad. Offspring meant responsibility, something he avoided at all costs. Responsibility had never brought him

anything but pain. Shuffling footsteps sounded nearby. Tuning in with his enhanced hearing, he smiled. There were two of them. The clumsy oafs must be very new or very stupid. No vampire with functioning brain cells would make that much noise while in pursuit of someone withMalveaux’s reputation.Quade must be hard up to send such lightweights his way. He waited until the two dullards paused under the streetlight at the mouth of the alley, actually discussing whether they should go straight or venture into his hiding place. His heart pounded in excited anticipation. He could already imagine his steel-like fingers knifing into the cold, white flesh of their necks, ripping out their throats. The surprised screams and arcing spray of blood would be the highlight of an otherwise meaningless night. He did relish these primitive moments. And focusing on the matter at hand would take his mind off his crotch, at least temporarily. Resisting the temptation to leap onto the two oblivious bloodsuckers, he let the desire to kill wash over him. Building the exquisite tension, he leaked some of the humming vibration into his aura. Noticing Malveaux took longer than it should have, but his pitiful trackers finally sensed his presence, gasping and snarling in response. Malveauxlaughed as the two large vampires came at him, arms reaching and fangs exposed. He had to hand it toQuade . The assailants the territory boss sent might have been idiots, but they were stereotypically perfect B-movie vampires. He’d heardQuade had a flair for the dramatic. Squinting to see through the curtain of snow,Malveaux planted his tall, muscular body directly in front of his visitors and smiled, showing a hint of fang. His long, dark hair hung in ice-crusted clumps down his shoulders and back, and bits of snow left water trails on their journey down the slick surface of his black leather duster. He didn’t need a mirror to know that his bright blue eyes had transformed into hypnotic silver pools. Those frighteningly shiny orbs were usually the last thing his pursuers saw before they joined their predecessors in the fires of Hell. He’d been an assassin as a human being and saw no reason to change professions simply because he’d become the undead. Although a vampire assassin was rather redundant. Malveauxmomentarily toyed with the idea of delaying his gratification, of stretching out the pleasure of their deaths. But the snow was becoming annoying, and the distraction hadn’t proven to be of sufficient intensity to deter his attention from his ever-demanding penis, so he ended the game. Locking eyes with one, then the other, he froze them in mid-lunge. He sent a simple mental command, insisting that they stand very still, while he pressed his sharp fingernails into the skin of their throats. They stood as ordered, shocked expressions on their faces, eyes empty. He moved back just in time to avoid the spray of crimson as the two vampires crumpled to the ground. Before the wounds could begin to heal,Malveaux reached into both chest cavities, extracting the still-beating hearts, and crushed them in his hands. Quite a nasty way to die, but a most expedient one. He felt the adrenaline rush subside and shook his head over the quickly-decomposing bodies. In most circumstances, there would be little more than ash, which would be blown down the alley to find a final resting place inside an abandoned car or an overturned dumpster. But, thanks to the wet snow, the hapless fools would end their worthless existences as piles of dark sludge, waiting to adorn the tires of a garbage or delivery truck. Not exactly what they were promised when they became vampires, he mused, but precisely what they

all deserved. A tightening in his groin brought him back to the present, and he wondered again whether someone could die from a hard-on. Maybe he’d find out. Leave it to him to be a night-walking pioneer. But, impending death or not, he was going to have to confront the possibility that he had to find at least one mortal to turn. Someone he could enslave sexually.Someone who’d be always available to him. That thought made him smile, until he remembered what it had been like to be on the receiving end of such a bargain. He frowned, kicked at some of the snow-covered sludge, and turned up the collar of his coat. Sticking his head out of the alley, he investigated the white expanse in both directions, and then walked toward some lights in the distance. Time to fuck. ***** The last guitar chord echoed through the almost-empty room, as Tempest Moon leapt off the small amplifier and landed in a crouch on the stage. She faced the other band members and brought the neck of her Fender Stratocaster guitar down abruptly, ending the song with a grand flourish. Grinning, she turned toward the audience -- or where the audience would have been if anybody had come into the bar thatnight -- and felt her grin flip upside down. Fucking snow, she thought. Their first gig in weeks and of course it had to blizzard like a motherfucker. But what the hell?They’d get paid anyway. She leaned into the microphone and announced to the three drunks at the bar that the band would be back for one more set in a few minutes. Her band mates headed off toward the bartender for liquid medication. Tempest grabbed the soft rag she used to wipe off her instrument and scanned the room. The band had never gigged there before.Standard dive.Or maybe even crappier than a standard dive, since it was in one of the most dangerous parts of a scary city. But she’d been raised in this nasty, dirty place, and had gotten used to what she considered the normal sick shit of daily urban living. She often thought that she’d had two choices: either be a musician like her parents, or bea ho . She certainly loved sex, but couldn’t stomach not being in charge of who stuck what where. She caught her reflection in one of the mirror tiles lining the back wall of the stage, and was glad that all the tough years hadn’t given her “the look” yet, that beaten-down, used-up look. The one her mother had. In fact, genetics had been kind, and Tempest had inherited the sweet, innocent face her mom had started out with, and her dad’s lean, toned frame. She wouldn’t have minded a couple more inches in height, but she’d settle for average. Besides, there were always stiletto-heeled boots for maximum theatrical effect. She appreciated that there was nothing like a well-placed pointy toe to make a drunk or stoned asshole take a detour. The guys in the band had gotten creative with the promo material, and described her as “sleek as a panther with long, silky dark hair, big brown eyes and a couple of black belts in various martial arts, creating a potent, guitar-packing, take-no-bullshit, Motor City mama.” She chuckled as she thought of that, and hoped the next thirty years would go down as easily as the first thirty had. Rubbing the back of her neck to relax the muscles, she swung her guitar away from her body and

propped it against the rack by her brand new amplifier. One more hour and she could collect the band’s money, divvy it up, and split. She unplugged the PA and clicked off the stage lights with her foot. “Hey, Tempest! I’moutta cash. Front me a couple of bucks for a beer, eh?” Tempest turned toward the voice. The speaker was no mystery. Stan the drummer always needed a couple of bucks for a beer. He always managed to slam his allotment of free drinks before the night was half over. She tried to put on a stern face, but it was impossible. He just looked like a big, overgrown kid with his long blond hair and big green eyes.A combination of a jock and a surfer dude. All that drumming had given him an impressive upper body, and his lower body wasn’t too shabby, either. Too bad his emotional development had stalled at around the kid level as well, because he was one tasty morsel in the sack. She smiled, remembering their last tumble. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and extracted a wad of singles. Peeling off a couple, she held them out to Stan. “What’s in it for me, Stan the Man?” He showed his remarkably white teeth, jumped back up on the stage, and sauntered over, reaching around behind her to grab her butt. “Whaddyawant?” Tempest wedged one of her hands in between their bodies, cupping his expanding equipment. “Guess.” He wiggled his hips, smiling.“Beer now.Bofflater.” He squeezed her buns, grabbed the bills, and executed a perfect athletic jump off the stage. She could hear him yelling to the bartender, “Shot and a beer,Chaz !” Tempest suspected that Stan’s gorgeous body wouldn’t survive his high-calorie alcohol binges. For that matter, she was surprised she’d been able to stay lean with all her bad habits. Then again, sex tended to burn calories, so at least she’d chosen a physically active hobby. Nobody could accuse her of being a couch potato.Unless, of course, she was using the couch for screwing. As long as she listened to her common sense -- and kept a good supply of rubbers -- nothing but pleasure would come from her demanding sexual appetites. Her legendary sexual appetites, she corrected, smiling. And, while she was having great sex, she didn’t need to think about all the messy relationship stuff. She’d found that men were good for sex and making music. Anything else was asking for trouble. A burst of frigid air hit Tempest as the front door opened. Thinking a few more customers might be braving the sudden ice age to show up for the last set, she was disappointed to see only a solitary man step inside. He shook his hair away from his face, sending a shower of melting snow down the walls, and straightened the collar on his coat. The entryway was directly in front of her at the far end of the club, and luckily, there were a lot of overhead lights, so she got a good look at the new arrival. Even with his long dark hair snow-covered, wet, and plastered against his shoulders, she felt her breath catch -- and not from the cold air. He had to be the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.Tall, with light skin and piercing eyes. She appreciated the cut of his leather duster and suspected it was high dollar. What the hell was a fancy number like him doing in a crap hole like this? Maybe he was another one of those mafia jerks. They were always showing up all over town to extort one kind of payment or another. Hidden in the darkness of the stage, she followed him with her eyes as he strode purposefully to the booth tucked back in the far corner. The bartender, along with every other life form in the smoky room, had gone completely still as the newcomer passed. Pausing next to the booth, the man removed his coat,

shaking it to dislodge the melting snow and ice. A smile spread across Tempest’s face as she noted the form-fitting leather pants and muscle-hugging, light-colored T-shirt he wore under the expensive coat. It didn’t take much creativity to imagine how it would feel to run her hands over that muscled expanse, but Tempest had creativity and imagination in abundance.So much that her body stirred in satisfied anticipation of the unexpected possibility that had just magically offered itself for later that night. She would’ve been happy to bounce on Stan again, but as far as men went, new was always better than familiar. She’d learned that the best thing about her looks was being able to use them to pick up any guy she wanted.Pitiful that males were so easily controlled, but it was just as well, since she so enjoyed being in charge. She watched the handsome stranger fold himself into the booth, and out of the corner of her eye, she sawChaz , the bartender, spring from behind the bar. The previously laid-back -- read stoned -- fellow practically fell over his own feet in his frantic attempt to reach the leather man. He hovered near the booth, wringing his hands, nodding energetically at whatever the new customer was saying.Chaz finally pointed toward the pay phone near the shelves of liquor and rushed in that direction, leaving the man alone. Tempest realized she’d been holding her breath duringChaz’s strange performance. Of course, she’d only met the bartender that day, so she had no idea what his normal behaviors were. But still, the vibe he gave off around the stud muffin was unusual, almost as if he was afraid or something. She could feel the thrum of his anxiety from her observation post. No surprise, really. Most of the businesses in the inner city were mob controlled. Maybe the eye candy in the booth was high up on the motherfucker feeding chain. She smirked. A lesser woman might take a pass on rolling around with a member of The Family, but she always enjoyed a challenge. None of the assholes had gotten the upper hand with her yet, and she felt confident she could call the shots with this yummy specimen, too. Tempest watched the leather god for a couple more minutes, trying to guess what drink he’d ordered, but whenChaz returned to the booth, he was empty handed. Gorgeous Guy nodded atChaz , who slinked away. The mystery man tilted his head back against the wall of the booth and closed his eyes. The movement appeared oddly vulnerable. The other musicians returning from their break surprised Tempest out of her daydream. She couldn’t believe she’d been standing there in the dark for the entire fifteen minutes. She hadn’t even gone for her usual shot of tequila. It was completely out of the ordinary for her to be so intrigued by a man. Usually she just picked one out during the course of the night, and collected him at the end. Not much pre-boink lust indulgence. Something about this guy was different.Arousing.Dangerous. Leon, the bass player, eased around her, plugged the PA back in, and clicked on the bar’s cheap stage lights. As the dim colors framed her, Tempest saw the man in the booth jerk his head in her direction, predatory eyes locked on hers. Chapter Two

Malveaux’senhanced sense of smell gave him trouble when he had to be in disgusting places like the bar he’d slipped into. Smoke, alcohol, and the stench of human emotions prompted him to wrinkle up his nose in distaste. Of all his expanded senses, he struggled most with his need to integrate the overload of aromatic stimuli in this garbage-infested, poverty-stricken area. He could argue with himself that spending time in this dump was better than being out in the blizzard, but

he knew that really hadn’t been why he’d ducked in.Since he didn’t experience cold as humans did, being out in the winter onslaught merely caused him to be wet.An inconvenience, at worst. He’d long since stopped trying to make sense of why he didn’t choose to use his wide range of vampire abilities more often. At almost two hundred years old, the idea of transforming into fog or one of his many animal forms had lost a lot of its original appeal. He’d certainly utilize the skills if the reason was important enough, but if he could avoid it, he would. As odd as it was to admit, he always felt faintlycreeped out after one of those episodes. No, if he were truthful with himself, sometimes he came to places such as this to have the illusion of being normal.Human. To indulge in memories of a time when he wasn’t the cursed abomination he was now. Forgetting, just for a moment, his dark reality. The place was familiar to him because it was a favorite meeting place for some of his lowlife associates, but he wasn’t expecting company tonight. Even vermin stayed indoors during a snowstorm. He chuckled quietly as he caught the bartender’s reaction to his arrival. His reputation was well known here, and he encouraged the mythos that had sprung up around him. The man --Chaz , if he recalled correctly -- had frozen at the sight of him, andMalveaux half expected him to keel over from fear. He thought he probably shouldn’t have terrorized the fellow by mentioning an expected phone call, but sometimes he couldn’t resist acting out the worst of his vampire nature. Phone calls usually meant trouble was brewing, and makingChaz stay on the alert for the imaginary call would keep him out ofMalveaux’s way. The bartender just thought his sullen customer was a hit man, which was true as far as it went. But if the skinny junky knew what was really sitting in his corner booth, he’d run screaming.Malveaux had considered drinking from the bartender in the past, just because he was convenient, but the guy was so strung out on heroin that his blood was useless. Breathing in the smell of smoke and liquor,Malveaux almost wished he could still drink his favorite whiskey. It was true that blood was a much more intoxicating substance, but old habits die hard. At least the place was empty tonight. Not so many emotions to sense or thoughts to intercept. Fewer heartbeats to pound like drums in his ears. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes for a few seconds to savor the silence. The stillness was broken by a loud click, like the amplified flipping of a switch, and his eyes flew open. Soft color illuminated the interior twilight, and he swiveled his head in the direction of the noise. Standing on a shabby stage at the end of the room was a woman, a woman radiating sex and sensuality so powerfully he felt a painful tightening in his groin. He was pleased to realize that she’d been staring at him from the darkened stage, and curious about how she’d slipped under his usually sensitive radar. He tuned into her emotions and thoughts and smiled at the potent lust flowing toward him from the exquisite female. His smile widened as he watched her strap on a shiny black electric guitar. She’d be a worthy sexual partner for the night -- or maybe for more than that. He shifted in his seat as the blood filled his cock again, pressing his flesh uncomfortably tight against the zipper of his leather pants. It was always such a pleasure when a perfect receptacle crossed his path so easily, like the spider and the fly. He knew he could simply send mental commands, and she’d do whatever he wanted. Sometimes he enjoyed the chase, the psychosexual foreplay that made his release even sweeter. Of course, he’d distract her so she wouldn’t notice the bite on her neck or the blood he was taking, but he was sometimes tempted to let his victims’ fear rush through him. That kind of orgasm was off the scale, and he wouldn’t kill her.Probably. Watching her gyrate on the stage, flailing her arm in a windmill motion as she plucked the strings of the guitar was highly arousing. Long hair flying, she commanded the stage like a wild woman, fronting the band with fierce charisma. Her slender, curvaceous body constantly moved in electric bliss as she kicked

up stiletto-heeled boots to punctuate sporadic musical crescendos. Her voice was surprisingly alluring, sometimes husky,sometimes sweet. He found himself intrigued with her stage persona, imagining sucking on those ripe breasts while his cock slid in and out of her wet slit. He could see the sweat glistening on her chest and arms and appreciated the short tank top, molded to her skin by the moisture. She had a habit of lifting her guitar away from her body, and he amused himself by thinking the maneuver was to give him an enticing view of her bra-less promise. She seemed to be performing just for him; her eyes sought him at every opportunity. Malveauxsignaled the bartender over to his booth again.Chaz approached, gaze lowered so he wouldn’t inadvertently make eye contact. The anxious bartender telegraphed his thoughts. He didn’t know why making contact withMalveaux’s cold blue eyes feltbad . He just knew it did. “How much longer does the band play tonight?”Malveaux asked. Chazglanced up, eyes wide, focused on a point aboveMalveaux’s nose. “This is their last set. They play until 1:45, but if they’re bothering you, I can tell them to stop now.” The frightened bartender was shaking so badly the coins rattled in his baggy pants pockets. “No. I’m enjoying the music. I was just curious. Thanks.” Chazsprinted away like he’d gotten a last-minute reprieve from the governor. Malveauxlet a wicked grin take control of his lips as he absently rubbed the palm of his hand over his bulging erection. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been excited about fucking a particular person, but the beautiful dynamo on the stage had his full attention. His night had definitely taken a turn for the better. The only question now was whether he wanted to be the pursuer or the pursued. He got the impression the vixen definitely went after what she wanted. He’d wait and see what the lady had in mind.

As the last notes of the band’s cover of BonnieRaitt’sSlow Ride floated out through the speakers, Tempest stepped up to the microphone, preparing to give her standard end-of-the-night speech. As they had since he arrived, her eyes zeroed in on the man in the booth. She was imagining grabbing onto that long hair and riding him like a wild bronco. “We want to thank you for showing up in a blizzard and for being such a great audience. We hope you’ll come back and listen again the next time we’re here, but, unfortunately, it’s that time again.The end of the night. You don’t have to go home, but you do have to go. Drive carefully.” She smiled at him and wasn’t the least surprised to see him smile back. She wondered if he’d picked up the sarcasm in hergreat audience statement. She hoped he wasn’t thick as a brick. The two remaining drunks at the bar had long ago surrendered the use of their bones and muscles, and were lost in a substance stupor, their faces mashed into the wood in front of them. Tempest lifted her guitar away from her body and leaned it against her amplifier. For just a few seconds, a flutter of nervousness erupted in her stomach, and she turned to make sure the man-candy was still in the booth. He was. She smiled as she wiped down her guitar and put it in its case. It was actually fun to find a man who turned her on. Sex was always good. Well, almost always. But it

had been a while since she felt genuinely excited. She enjoyed it when it was more than just her pussy getting wet and hot. Her pussy was always wet and hot, apparently.And impatient.Impatient Pussy. Sounds like a porn film, she thought, or a great name for an all-woman band. This guy looked like someone she might want to enjoy for a while. Even if the gorgeous stranger turned out to be stupid rather than the strong, silent type, as long as he had a big, warm cock, they’d have a memorable evening. She turned and glanced at him again. He was still staring at her. She could almost feel the heat of his laser-like gaze on her ass. He had amazing eyes. She couldn’t wait to see them up close. She hoped he wasn’t one of those violent assholes. Some of the pretty boys were. But she had her favorite knife tucked inside her boot, so she wasn’t particularly worried about fighting off an attack. Shit. How fucked was it to have to think about stuff like that? Welcome to my world, she thought. She turned to Stan, “Hey, did you call the roadies?” “Yeah, on the last break. They’ll be here in a minute.” She’d enticed a couple of Stan’s old high school buddies to do the equipment set-ups, tear-downs and loading. They were actually groupies more than roadies who eagerly invested sweat equity in exchange for vague promises of future sexual favors. She’d put in her years of lifting the heavy crap, and was now happy to solicit guys to do the physical-strength thing and relieve her of that duty. She was a kick-ass feminist, but no fool. Why lift and carry if she didn’t have to? She’d have to amend her list of the things men were good for: sex, making music, and heavy lifting. Did that make her a female chauvinist? Getting out of the way of Rob, the rhythm guitar player, as he moved his stack of amplifiers, she picked up her guitar case and stepped down onto the dance floor. She balanced her instrument case against the cigarette machine and turned toward the lust object in the booth. “Hey, Tempest!Whereyagoin ’?” Stan yelled. She glanced back over her shoulder. He was standing near the edge of the stage, pounding out a rhythm on his thighs with his drum sticks. He did that when he was nervous. He glared at her, and then at the booth inhabitant, and frowned. “I thought we had plans for tonight?” “Plans change, my man. Catch you next time.” A hurt expression passed over his face before he turned away and began removing his cymbals from their stands. She had a quick twinge of something that might have been guilt, but easily stuffed the feeling down deep in the unwanted-emotion morgue she’d created in childhood. She’d learned that attachments equaled disaster and disappointment. Stan knew her well enough to know she was a sexual free agent. Yes, they were old friends and often sex partners, but that didn’t give him any say about what she did. She didn’t have to explain herself to anyone. She brought her eyes back to the night’s target and pulled out all the stops in the sensual walk department. She noticed he’d sat there for the last hour without drinking anything. That usually meant one of two things: either he was doing the twelve-step trip and might be one of those self-righteous sober drunks, or he preferred drugs. She didn’t care as long as his preferences didn’t get in the way of her orgasms. He sat in the booth, relaxed, slouched down, hands folded in his lap. Now that she was closer, she could see his T-shirt was blue. So were his eyes. Sky blue, framed with long, dark lashes. She wondered for a few seconds if he might have had cosmetic surgery. Nobody’s face was that perfect, and men were

lining up to go under the knife in the name of vanity as fast as women these days. She stood near the end of the booth and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Tempest.” Cocking her head, she gave him a dazzling, come-hither smile. He sat up and took her offered hand, rubbing his thumb against her palm in a feather-light motion. His hand was surprisingly cool. “Hello, Tempest. I’mMalveaux . Please join me.” His voice was like rich chocolate wrapped in thick velvet. It flowed over her body and into her ears like auditory silk. She just knew he’d give great phone sex. Her pussy twitched, and moisture pooled between her legs. Her nipples hardened and poked defiantly through the thin fabric of her pink tank top. She thought she might come just from listening to him talk. She’d certainly had sex with enough musicians just because they had great voices. She sat next to him in the booth, and noted a flicker of surprise cross his face before he brought his expression back under control. She wondered if he’d assumed she’d sit across from him. But what was the point of wasting time? She was a woman on a mission, and why beat around the bush? “Malveaux?That’s an unusual name. Is that your first name or last?” He’d pronounced it like a French word, but she didn’t detect any accent other than generic American. She had a sudden desire to run her fingers up and down the well-toned arm nearest her and indulged herself. He glanced slowly down at her fingers on his arm, and then met her eyes and smiled. “It’s my only.” She studied his face and felt even more certain that he’d special-ordered it.Eyes exactly the right distance apart, framed by sculpted eyebrows.Cheekbones just definite enough and a strong chin with the merest hint of an indentation.Great lips. The man even had dimples when he smiled. He’d either paid for it, or his genetics were awesome. He definitely qualified as a pretty boy, but there was something old and tired about his eyes. His past must have had some rough edges. There had to be more to this guy than just his god-like appearance. She could only imagine how much he’d spent at the dentist to get thatHollywood smile. Who was this guy? There was no question in her mind that the two of them would fuck.And soon. Since she figured she’d only spend one night with him, and the time was ticking away, she decided to ratchet up the negotiations. Shifting her body toward him, she brushed a clump of his long, dark hair from his cheek lightly with her fingernail. “Forgive me for resorting to a boring cliché, but your place or mine?” She slid her hand up his leather-clad thigh and found his erection. She squeezed gently. “If this isn’t inside me very soon, I won’t be responsible for what happens.” He laughed and covered her hand with his, encouraging the impromptu massage. “I love a woman who knows what she wants. I’d suggest my place, but it’s some distance from here and, quite frankly, I don’t want to wait that long.How about yours?” She started to say she thought that was a terrific idea, when she remembered the message her roommate, Lauren, had left on their answering machine, reminding Tempest she’d be back from her vacation in Hawaii that night. Lauren would no doubt be having catch-up sex with her boyfriend all over their apartment. Normally, Tempest wouldn’t be shy about adding more bodies to the mix but for some reason she didn’t feel like sharing her new discovery. She wanted to keep this guy all to herself. “Damn!” She moved her hand off his bulge without thinking. “My roommate’s coming home tonight, and

she’ll be at the apartment with her boyfriend, so that won’t work.” She glanced at the partially steam-covered window near the front of the bar, which provided clear evidence that the blizzard was still kicking the shit out of the city. “And as much as I want to jump your luscious bones, I’m not willing to do it in the backseat of a freezing car. Maybe. . .” He leaned in and kissed her, swallowing the rest of her words. His tongue slid artfully into her mouth, exploring slowly, and she offered hers in return. Deepening the kiss, she lost all sense of how long they’d had their lips pressed together or if anyone else was still in the room. Her mind distantly registered that he wore an appealingly sensual, subtly earthy fragrance. The man’s mouth should have been a registered weapon because it destroyed her ability to do anything beyond the basics. Her brain moved and left no forwarding address. She melted into his soft, warm mouth and moaned. Pulling away, he said, “Let’s get a room.” She smiled wide, savored the taste of him on her lips, and slid out of the booth. “I’ll get my things.” Chapter Three

Malveauxcouldn’t believe his luck. He watched the sweet, round ass of the lovely musician sway as she retreated across the dance floor and smiled. Never in his wildest,vampire wet dreams would he have imagined that such a perfect sex goddess would cross his path on such a terrible night. Especially not in a shit can bar like this one. His dick throbbed in gleeful anticipation, and his fangs became so excited they tried to crash the party before he forced them to retract back into his gums. No horror movie props yet; it wouldn’t do to scare off the prey before his objectives were met. He appreciated for a moment how convenient it was that nobody believed in vampires. Nobody, that is, except for some of the mob guys who were used to monsters of all kinds. After all, in this part of town, human monsters were reflected in every mirror. Blood-drinking fiends were only a problem if they cut into the mob’s action. But he didn’t want to think about work. He wanted to enjoy the way Tempest’s full tits jiggled when she moved, and the way her tight jeans drew his gaze to the erotic space between her legs. He closed his eyes for a moment and imagined how she would taste; both her pussy and her blood. It was probably dangerous for him to be so distracted, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so aroused. He wasn’t much of a believer in things like “fate” or “destiny,” but he had to admit there seemed to be method to the madness in his meeting Tempest, just when he’d needed to find the right offspring. He wasn’t sure if she’d be appropriate, but he was certainly going to have onehelluva good time finding out. One simply didn’t look a gift twat in the mouth, or something to that effect, he thought, chuckling. Becoming aware that she was moving toward him, her guitar case in one hand and a beat-up briefcase in the other, he stood. She wore a baggy, worn-out leather jacket covered with various motorcycle gang symbols. He studied the ancient garment and raised his eyebrows. It looked like something dragged out of the attic of some Hell’s Angel. “This is my dad’s jacket,” Tempest offered, obviously reading his elevated eyebrows. “He got it from Jim Morrison back in the day. I have a superstitious thing about wearing it when I start a new gig. It brings me luck.” She smiled. “And apparently it brings mestudly sex partners, too.” He chuckled. “That sounds like quite a club: ‘TheStudly Sex Partners.’ I intend to distinguish myself from the pack. Perhaps you’ll create a new title for me.” Malveauxlifted his coat from the seat of the booth and slipped it on. He grinned and took her hand,

raising it to his lips, and then kissed her palm gently. Staring into her eyes, he allowed himself to transmit only a slight hypnotic effect. He licked down her index finger, and then sucked it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. Slowly pulling her finger out of his mouth, he released her hand, letting it drift back down to her side. Tempest took a deep breath and blew it out loudly. “Jesus. If you’regonna do stuff like that, we’re not going to make it to the car.” “Speaking of the car, why don’t you wait here a moment and let me bring it closer to the door?” He kissed her cheek, buttoned his coat for appearances sake, and lifted the collar around his neck. He enjoyed behaving like a mortal who worried about being cold. Walking quickly through the entryway, he pushed out into the snowstorm. It hadn’t occurred toMalveaux when he parked earlier that he might have company in his car. He’d only visited this neighborhood to feed and find a little sexual relief. His unexpectedly increasing sexual need had over-ridden his distaste for spending any extra time here, beyond what was required to do his job. He’d been more concerned about concealing his presence than about finding a convenient spot for his silver Jaguar, so the car was hidden in the underground parking lot of a business associate several blocks away. He knew it was ridiculous for a vampire to be so fixated on a human gadget, but he found cars -especially the fast, sleek ones -- irresistible. There hadn’t been such wondrous toys when he’d been alive.Malveaux moved with preternatural speed and arrived at the car’s location in only a few seconds. He revved up the engine of his prized transportation, threw some newspapers off the passenger seat, and guided the purring cat out onto the snow-clogged road. The snow was no match for the Jag’s traction. Pulling up in front of the bar, he left the motor running and dashed inside to help Tempest carry her things out to the car. He entered just in time to hear her arguing with the drummer of her band. A “fuck you” reverberated off the walls as Tempest slammed out the door into the storm. He smiled at how well suited she was for her name. After they were both settled in the Jag,Malveaux asked, “Is there a problem?” Not that he really cared what she had going on with the musician, but he wanted to avoid any unnecessary complications. If the drummer was a disgruntled boyfriend who might follow them, things could get messy. He didn’t want any witnesses to what was about to happen. “No. No problem. Stan just gets jealous once in a while. He’s a sweet guy, but nothing serious is ever going to happen between us. He’s like a brother to me.” Malveauxknew, from scanning her memories earlier, that she’d been having very enthusiastic sex with the “brother” for years. He slanted a look at her.“Hmm. I’d guess the relationship is pretty incestuous, if he’s like a brother.” Tempest hooted out a laugh.“Busted.” They drove slowly through the deserted street, making fresh tire tracks in the virgin snow, the only sound the whoosh of the windshield wipers. After a couple of minutes, Tempest shifted in her seat to face Malveaux . “Stan thinks you’re ‘Family,’ one of the mob guys.” “Does he, now?” “Are you?”

“Does it make a difference to you?To our sexual agenda for the night?” She was quiet for a moment,then laughed. “No, it doesn’t make a difference, but I always like to know whose brains I’m screwing out.” He gave her a warm smile. “Let me put your mind at ease. There’s a lot about me I can’t tell you, and I often work for people with whom I wouldn’t socialize, but I’m not a Family member. Are you okay with screwing a mystery man?” She slid her hand across his lap until it found his warm bulge. “Mystery men are my favorites.Especially mystery men who can stay hard in minus-ten-degree weather. I thought that was a physical impossibility. I can’t wait to see what else you can do with this thing.” He lowered his voice. “I look forward to showing you.” “Where are we going?” “Since we’re close, I thought we’d go to one of the new hotels that just opened downtown. How about theWinsteadTower ? I hear the soundproofing is state of the art.” “Soundproofing, eh? Should I ask what kinds of noises you make when you fuck?” “Actually, I’m relatively quiet, but my partners tend to have screaming orgasms.” “Jesus. Drive faster, will you?” ***** TheRoxy Theater had been built in the oldest part ofDetroit during the 1920s. Surrounded by other architecturally-spectacular buildings, at one time it had been a world-class performance venue. The art deco masterpiece had been designed inside and out by Arturo Landau, that era’sreigning king of colorful geometric forms, and it was a sought-after destination for the wealthy for many years. Like much of the city, the beauty of the building had been obliterated by human stupidity and shortsightedness. Quadestood at a window in what was left of theRoxy’s ornate penthouse, staring out at the blizzard pounding the usually-filthy streets. The white coating seemed to cleanse the city of its human contamination. The bleak scenery matched his mood. He’d expected his take-over ofDetroit to be well under way by now. Surely, it would be child’s play to infiltrate a crime-ridden area like the inner city, where his vampires could blend in with the other killers who’d been using it for their meal tickets. Who knew the greedy human idiots would be so hard to dislodge? They were like cockroaches. The fools didn’t even know they were up against immortals. They couldn’t possibly know. Success with humans could always be counted on if one never overestimated their IQs. Like lambs to the slaughter, their refusal to open their minds to dark possibilities was their undoing. After all, everyone knew there were no such things as vampires. He laughed out loud, and then sobered. Wasn’t it bad enough that he had to deal with mortal mobsters? What the fuck was The Assassin doing here? The door opened behind him, and he turned, irritated. “Well? Did you find any sign ofMalveaux ? Did the trackers return yet?” The messenger crept into the room.Quade didn’t have to read the lesser vampire’s mind. He could tell by the supplicant’s demeanor that he wouldn’t care for the answer. “No, Master. There’s no word about

Malveaux or the trackers. We’ve sent out reinforcements, but the storm is making the situation more difficult.” Quadeturned back to the window and snarled. “Find them.Or else.” He knew the stories about the one they called The Assassin. If even half of the tales were true, he was in trouble. The click of the door closing echoed through the heavy silence. ***** Tempest didn’t usually enjoy driving on snow-covered roads. All that slipping and sliding made her feel like she was out of control, and she didn’t ever like feeling out of control. ButMalveaux seemed to be as good at driving as she hoped he was at everything else. She kept her hand on his cock during the whole drive over, and the damn thing just seemed to get harder and bigger. She couldn’t wait to meet it in person. They pulled up in front of the fancy new hotel, and people converged on them from the lobby. The valet rushed over to the driver’s side of the car, took the keys fromMalveaux and drove away into the bowels of the building. A doorman dressed in an elaborate, military-type uniform, carrying an open umbrella, scurried over to shieldMalveaux from the frigid onslaught. He managed to sneer at Tempest’s leather jacket while being an ass-kisser forMalveaux’s benefit, the umbrella conveniently too small to accommodate her. If the doorman had been a dog, he would’ve been whimpering and showing his belly, hopingMalveaux would give him some of those tasty green paper treats. The doorman scowled at her as he ferried them through the ornate glass doors into the high-tech lobby. Normally, she would have said something to shock him, but she was having such a good time that she decided just to ignore him and his snobbery. It was interesting to watchMalveaux work the room. She wasn’t sure she bought his story about not being a mob guy because he certainly had everyone on the hotel staff jumping. They just couldn’t do whatever he wanted quickly enough. He managed to talk the hotel into giving them a room on one of the floors that hadn’t been officially opened yet. For maximum privacy, he said. The staff seemed to be nervous, or something.A hyper Tony Soprano kind of thing. He certainly used his gorgeous eyes to good advantage. After checking in and making it clear that they didn’t need to be escorted to their room on the twentieth floor, they stepped into the softly-lit elevator, finally alone. “Come to Mama, big boy.” Tempest leaped up, wrapping her legs aroundMalveaux’s hips, throwing her arms around his neck. She heard him make what might have been an amused sound, before his mouth was covered with hers. Holding her weight easily, she felt him slide one hand under her ass, while the other stroked the back of her head. She moaned as they deepened the kiss, mouths yielding and tongues exploring. He tasted so good. She didn’t notice when the elevator stopped, and the doors silently parted, butMalveaux obviously did. He walked into the hallway, still carrying her, and headed toward their room, the thick carpet muting the sound of his steps. He paused in front of a door, used the key card he still managed to have in his hand, and effortlessly opened it. “Holy shit.”

She’d had sex in some interesting places -- a few of which reminded her that she hadn’t always used the best judgment when there was an orgasm in the offing -- but never in a luxurious room like this. Actually, it wasn’t a room. It was a suite.Onehelluva fancy set-up. She unwound her limbs fromMalveaux and landed on her feet with a bounce on white, deep pile carpet. Spreading her arms wide, she spun in a circle, laughing. “You really know how to show a girl a good time.” She danced around the large living room, noticing all the amenities. Not only was there a fully-stocked, marble-topped bar in the corner, but a bottle of champagne sat iced in a bucket next to the couch. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had bubbly. And she’d probably never had the expensive kind somebody likeMalveaux would order. She glided over to the champagne, and then turned toward her quiet host. Expecting to find him smiling at her, she was surprised by the serious expression on his face. For lack of a better word, he lookedhungry . His eyes were locked on hers, their brilliant blue sparkling like lasers. “Whoa. That’s one intense look you’re giving me,fella . I bet I know exactly what you want.” Dropping her father’s jacket on the floor, she stalked over toMalveaux . ***** “Master, the silver Jaguar.It’s been seen.” Quadejerked his head, following the movement of the pale, slender vampire who’d burst into the room. Leaping up to stand in front of the quivering messenger, he smiled. “Are you sure it’s his?” “Yes, Master. Our source is dependable.” Quadethrew back his head and laughed. Chapter Four

Malveauxwatched the tantalizing female cross the room, her slender hips undulating in his direction, and felt his cock stiffen even more painfully against the zipper of his pants. The musky scent of her arousal flooded his nostrils, and his fangs throbbed inside his gums, aching to be released. He’d always had a potent libido, even when he was human, and he was used to the physical sensation of managing a raging hard-on that seemed to have a life of its own. But over the past few months, his sexual drive, or more specifically, his frantic need to bury his cock in any willing or unwilling pussy, had taken a turn toward obsession. The evidence for the truth of the legend was piling up, and he’d been searching for the perfect thrall -- the most yielding sexual servant -- to service him for as long as he found her interesting. It was clear that he needed to create his first “child.” He hadn’t been completely conscious of his quest, but the subtle programming imparted by his vampire “parent” had thrust him on a relentless mission to create his own “family.” He understood now that resistance was useless. He needed to create as badly as he needed blood to survive. The human female aroused him to frightening levels. He had a strong urge to rip his pants off, jump on her, pin her to the floor, and ram his cock into her hot pussy until she screamed. And then to bleed what was left of her.

He watched Tempest pull her thin, pink tank top languidly over her head, exposing surprisingly large, full breasts tipped with rosy nipples. Her skin glowed ivory in the soft light. She stood in front of him, palming her tits, lifting them up to him, as if making a sacred offering. An offering he had no intention of refusing. “Yes, indeed. I do know what you want,” Tempest whispered. He held himself back, caging his raging inner beast, almost drowning in the exquisite torture of anticipation while she rubbed her nipples against the front of his coat. He wanted to jam his fingers up inside her, to ravage her, to spread her legs wide and fill her with his aching cock. But he waited, letting it build, postponing the ecstasy he knew would come. Malveauxhadn’t ever performed the turning ritual before, but he knew intuitively how to enslave her and to enthrall her. He’d drain her old life away, one ambrosial drop at a time, and give her a new one, a life of service to his passions. Meeting her eyes, he sent a quick mental suggestion, letting her know very specifically what he wanted. What he needed. She smiled, took a couple of steps back, and pulled off her boots. Tossing them across the room, she opened her jeans and shimmied out of them, letting them fall to the floor around her smooth calves. Tempest moved with the sexual grace of an exotic dancer. Her candy-pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. “You’re never going to forget this night.” He smiled, knowing thatshe’d forget everything he decided to make her forget. His eyes roamed over her body, which was now naked except for a skimpy pink thong. Dropping his coat on the floor, he growled deep in his throat. Faster than a human eye could see, he reached over and ripped the thong away, enjoying her small yip. Her body was beautiful. He wondered if the dark triangle of hair hiding her pussy lips was as soft as it looked. “Your turn now, pretty boy,” she whispered. She reached to pull his T-shirt out of his pants, and he grabbed her wrists in a fluid motion, locking them in one hand, raising them over her head. Her body stretched taut, her toes barely touching the floor. She gasped. Surprise and excitement flashed in her dark eyes, and she moaned softly. He captured her gaze and smiled. “Yes. It’s definitely my turn.” Still holding her easily with one hand, he used the other to unzip his pants. Finally set free, his cock sprang out, thick and ready. He pushed the leather down far enough for his balls to slip out, and then he rubbed himself against Tempest’s silky mound. “Oh, yeah.That’s it. I knew you’d have a big cock,” she moaned. “Are you able to leap tall buildings, too?” He smiled at theSuperman reference and held his breath while grinding his penis against her warm skin. Feeling entranced, he closed his eyes and reveled in the sensations. His fangs descended slightly, just enough that their sharp points extended beyond the rest of his teeth. Running his tongue over their edges reminded him that there was only one thing that could make this experience better, and he would get to that soon enough.

“Open your legs for me,” he said, voice low and husky. Without another word, Tempest raised her legs and wrapped them around his hips. He released her hands and sent the mental command that she put her arms around his neck. He cradled her delectable ass in one hand and slipped his other hand in between their bodies, inserting a finger into her slick, wet heat. She groaned loudly and began rocking herself gently back and forth against his finger. He stroked her clitoris, coated his finger with her juices, and lifted the aromatic finger up to his mouth, sucking the sweet wetness. “Your pussy tastes even better than it smells,” he said. “I love a succulent pussy. Tell me what you like. What do you want?” “Fuck me hard,Malveaux . Stick that bad boy inside me before I explode.” Her words drove him mad. The feral growl that rumbled from his chest should have frightened her, but she only moaned more urgently, encouraging him to possess her body. He backed her over to the nearest wall and pressed her soft, pliable body against it. Holding her ass with both hands now, he leaned into her body, spreading her legs wider. With practiced control, he rubbed his cock against her juicy slit, blending his pre-come with her wetness before plunging into her hot flesh. She screamed as he pounded his cock into her wet vagina. Reaching up, she grabbed handfuls of his long hair and brought his mouth to hers. He kissed her deeply, devouring her lips, his tongue moving rhythmically in time with the thrusting of his cock in her pussy as she whimpered her need.Malveaux felt his fangs fully descend, and he nicked her tongue with the razor-sharp point, causing a throaty gasp to erupt from her. The taste of blood in his mouth pushed him over the edge, and he felt a huge orgasm approaching. Sucking on her tongue to increase the blood flow, he groaned and pumped harder. Tempest’s body tightened on him, her inner muscles began to ripple and milk his cock, bathing him in a gush of her juices. She screamed her climax as he built his own. Clouding her mind with a hypnotic suggestion, he shifted his mouth to her neck, found the pulsing vein, and sank his fangs into the hot, sweet river of blood waiting there.Drinking the crimson elixir while his cock pumped inside her filled him with such ecstasy that his orgasm became almost painful in its intensity. He’d vaguely been aware that she’d come two more times while he fed. Emerging from his pleasure frenzy, he finally noticed that Tempest lay motionless against his chest. He felt a sudden jolt of panic as he wondered if he’d taken more than he’d meant to. Wouldn’t it just be perfect if he’d finally found a human he enjoyed, and he’d killed her before making full use of her? What the hell good was the drive to create an offspring if he wasn’t able to control himself during the process? He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, afraid of what he’d find. To his relief and amusement, her mouth was fixed in a wide smile, and he could feel the wisps of breath blowing gently from her nostrils. Shaking his head at the close call, he erased her memory of the blood drinking and mentally suggested that she’d had the best orgasm of her life. Since he was sure that was true anyway, the suggestion

wouldn’t be resisted. He’d give her more mental commands later so that she wouldn’t notice the bite marks on her neck. He could heal the small wounds usingthe coagulate in his vampire saliva, but since he’d only begun his feasting, it seemed unnecessary. “Tempest?” His voice roused her from the pleasant daydream he’d planted, and she tightened her legs around his hips, her vagina contracting around his cock again. “That was right up there with the top ten best fucks I’ve ever had. You’ve got some awesome equipment there, pretty boy. And you’re not too shabby in the performance department, either.” He laughed. “I was just getting warmed up. The night is young.” “You got that right.” She eased her hips back, freeing his erection and slid down his body. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. Malveauxallowed her to take charge this time. He knew from tasting her blood that they’d be a good match. She would serve him well. He felt himself relaxing for the first time in months. “I want to see the body that’s underneath these clothes.” She maneuvered them next to the huge king-size bed. This time when she attempted to pull his T-shirt over his head, he cooperated. Throwing the shirt on the floor, she ran her hands over his smooth, muscular chest and leaned in to lick his nipples. “Do you work out or is this just another one of your genetic bonuses? Or are you really from the planet Krypton?” “I’m just one of those lucky guys with a greatmetabo --” His words were interrupted by an unexpected loud groan as he reacted to her yanking his leather pants down his legs and sucking his cock into her mouth. He lowered himself down onto the edge of the bed, fisted his hands in her hair, and guided her head in a gentle motion, encouraging her to take more of him as he became rock-hard again. Twirling her tongue around his shaft as she slid it out of her mouth, she sucked at the opening in the tip, and then left his cock bobbing in his lap. “Let me get those boots off, Superman.” She removed the black boots, and then pulled the leather pants off his legs, throwing them back over her shoulder. He smiled and discovered he was enjoying their little game. Allowing her to be in charge for this brief period was more enticing than he would’ve imagined. He had to admit he actually liked this human female. After she drank his blood tonight, he’d have his first offspring. Pride and satisfaction flowed through him. He hoped having a regular blood and sex partner would calm down his urges, at least for a while. His maker felt compelled to create legions of devoted thralls to meet his twisted demands. Would it be the same forMalveaux ? How many offspring would he need?

Tempest slid her hands up his legs, caressed his balls and then rose to her feet. She crawled around him onto the huge bed, settling in the middle, spread-eagle. “Come and show me what you can do with that tongue, pretty boy.” He wondered if this night could get any better. He really did love eating pussy. Standing, he ambled down to the end of the bed and sent her the mental command to bend her knees and open her legs wider. Staring at the glistening pink wetness, he felt his cock twitch, wanting to get into the action.

“Holy fuck,” Tempest muttered. Had she hit the jackpot tonight, or what? Some drop-dead gorgeous slice of manhood showed up at the dive bar, and now he was smiling at her, his humungous cock jutting out in front of him like one of those lances they use for jousting, ready to lick her pussy. She must’ve done something right in a past life. Her clit ached in excited anticipation. She studied him as he stalked toward her. He had the most amazing eyes, amazing, but weird. Sometimes they appeared as blue as the summer sky, and then they turned into mirrors. Maybe she was having some kind of LSD flashback. And that hair.Long hair didn’t work on all guys. Sometimes it made them look wimpy or stupid, but Malveaux’s hair was a turn-on: silky-soft under her hands, thick and glossy.A real aphrodisiac. Then there was his body. Thinking about his body made the moisture drip from her hungrycunt . He slid toward her from the foot of the bed, moving like a predator. Just before he lowered his head between her legs, he smiled. “Remember, they have great soundproofing here. You can scream as loud as you wish. I’m going to make you come so many times that you’ll beg me to stop.” He hooked an arm under each leg and spread her wider. She felt him stroke his long tongue up one side of her clit, then the other, already building her toward orgasm. She arched her hips and moved rhythmically against his tongue, heightening every sensation he drew from between her legs. When he sucked her clit into his mouth, she screamed, exploding in pleasure. She felt a quick, sharp pain as he sucked on her tender skin, but was overwhelmed again by a building tidal wave of satisfaction. She was so wet she was surprised he didn’t get swept away onto the floor. The thought made her smile, before another orgasm crashed over her. She couldn’t remember ever having so many intense orgasms in a row.Malveaux was onehelluva lover, but she was getting tender. Damn him. She was going to have to get him to stop, at least for a while. And he didn’t even have beard stubble. Grabbing his hair, she lifted his face from her crotch. “Come up here. I want to taste myself on your lips.”

He lifted himself, as if performing half a push-up. “Is that your way of begging me to stop?” he whispered, playfully. “Yes, damn it, but I do want to taste your mouth, and I want you inside me.” He crawled up her body until the tip of his cock rubbed against her hot, pulsing opening. She closed her eyes to savor the body rush that his soft movements triggered. He sucked on one nipple, then the other, causing her to arch her back with desire. Then he raised himself over her, moving the tip of his thick cock very slowly over her sensitive clit, and she took his face in her hands, drawing his lips down to hers. The kiss was deep, sensual and intimate. She tasted herself, musky and salty, as their tongues wrestled gently together. She had a momentary thought about how interesting it might be ifMalveaux stuck around for a while. She wouldn’t mind spending some time training this one. It was always good to grab onto a firm possibility whenever one arose. He eased his cock inside her very slowly. She could feel him fill her, stretching her one slow, torturous inch at a time. He moved in and out in long, deep strokes. She heard him making little moaning noises low in his throat. Feeling herself close to peak, Tempest wrapped her legs around him to take him deeper. Instinctively she squeezed the muscles in her pussy to make sureMalveaux went along for the ride. He raised himself up, gazed into her eyes, and she suddenly felt fuzzy, as if she’d had too many beers. She felt him kissing his way down the side of her neck, and then gasped at a sudden, sharp pain. As she moaned, he pumped his cock wildly inside her and sucked roughly on her neck. Waves of ecstasy slammed over her as he did whatever he was doing to her neck. Where the hell had he learned to fuck like that? Struggling to remain conscious, she watched him rise over her, something smeared all over his mouth. He seemed to be doing something to his chest. Making a cut? There was blood. She thought he said something about “drink,” as he lifted her head toward the wound. She’d just curled the tip of her tongue along the wet place on his chest, when suddenly he dropped her head back onto the pillow, stopped moving his cock inside her, and went completely still. She tried to shake the cobwebs from her brain. What happened? What was that sound? Was someone outside the door? Swearing,Malveaux bolted from the bed. Chapter Five

“What the fuck?”Malveaux said to nobody in particular as he tuned in to the fumbling sounds in the hallway. He could’ve staked himself for getting so caught up in playing with the human female that he’d let the Neanderthal vampires get all the way to the door of the suite before he sensed their presence. How could he have gotten so distracted? What the hell was the matter with him? He hadn’t done anything that dense since he was a newborn. And he called himself an assassin. The buffoons’ primitive thoughts were so

clearly broadcast that he’d have to be telepathically deaf to miss them. He shook his head, put the brakes on the self-recrimination and reordered his priorities. First on the agenda: buy some time. Focusing his consciousness, he sent a burst of thought to the group in the hallway, demanding that they retrace their steps back to the elevator and descend. He heard a few shuffling footsteps as the meager will force of the vampires struggled against the command he’d sent. How didQuade always manage to recruit such inferior minions? While it was relatively easy forMalveaux to control all of them for a short time, he knew they’d be back the moment the power of the suggestion diminished. What they lacked in brain power, they made up for with brawn. He figured he had about three minutes before they kicked the door in. Turning his attention to the woman on the bed, his eyebrows winged up. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t what he found. Tempest was no longer lying there, entranced from the mental command he’d given her while he sucked on her neck. Not even close. She was sitting up, arms folded under those bodacious breasts, watching him intently. “Tell me more about you not being in the mob,” she said, a wicked smile flirting with the corners of her lips. “I love a good fairy tale.” Malveauxgot momentarily distracted by the smell of blood still oozing from the bite marks on Tempest’s neck. He watched the vibrant red slide down her sweat-slick, white skin, etching out a path between her breasts. He ran his tongue over the tips of his still-descended fangs. He’d obviously created larger wounds than he intended when he’d been enthusiastically feeding. He cocked his head, studying her. Odd that Tempest was coherent enough to talk to him, but hadn’t noticed all that blood yet. Or at least she hadn’t reacted to it. By all rights, she should be out cold. Her mind must be stronger than he originally estimated. The notion of creating an offspring who was a near equal was highly arousing. He looked down at his cock, which was twitching again. Now that he thought about it, he’d never been so turned on in his life, or in his death. His ramrod-stiff dick throbbed, and his fangs ached. He hadn’t been able to finish either part of the enslaving process, and he didn’t think his visitors in the hallway would wait patiently while he emptied himself into the woman and gave her his blood.Fucking miserable timing. Stepping quickly over to the bed, he leaned down and kissed Tempest’s lips, still red and swollen from his torrid kisses. “I apologize for the abrupt and inconvenient end to our evening, but we will definitely meet again.” Before she could respond, he captured her eyes with his and whispered, “Sleep.” She fell back against the pillows, her now seemingly boneless body vulnerable and limp. Sliding his tongue eagerly over the drying blood on her chest and neck, he licked away all traces of his feasting. Concentrating some of his vampire saliva into the bite holes, he stopped the blood flow. Within minutes the entire wound would be healed. Soon, there wouldn’t even be a pink spot to mark his territory, but next time, she’d be his forever. Moving so quickly that if any mortals had been watching he would have appeared to them only as a blur, he wrapped Tempest in the bedspread and scooped her up from the bed. Carrying her like a human

burrito,Malveaux strode out of the master bedroom, through the large living room of the suite, and into the guest bedroom at the far end of the spacious accommodations. As he approached the mirrored closet doors, the strange vision of a colorful, silk brocade bedspread-encased body floating in midair drew an unexpected laugh fromMalveaux . Since he hadn’t spent much time around mirrors, every experience brought the realization of his invisibility back with fresh surprise and amusement. He pulled open one side of the closet, rested his future offspring on the carpeted floor, and shut the door. She’d awaken with very confused memories, but that couldn’t be helped. He’d adjust her recollections soon enough. Striding back into the master bedroom, he sensed the moment his control over the uninvited vampires snapped, and they moved as a herd back toward his suite. Not usually choosing to be so dramatic, but needing to indulge this time, he put aside his pragmatic nature. He scanned the area, planned his special exit. He needed a distraction, and he hoped the obviously newly-turned vampires would be easily dazed and confused. Keeping their attention away from Tempest’s hiding place would require a bit of theater.Malveaux rolled two pillows inside another of the blankets from the bed, making the bundle appear as human-like as possible, and lifted it into his arms. He noticed his leather pants crumpled on the floor, remembered he was still naked, and considered getting dressed. Then he decided it really didn’t matter since he planned on changing form soon. Clothing would only get in the way, but what a waste of good leather. Timing it perfectly,Malveaux ran into the living room just as the suite door blasted open with a loud crash. Several large bloodsuckers resembling an undead football squad stumbled into the room, rushing toward him like mindless zombies. Malveauxsmiled, clutched his faux-human to his chest, and launched himself through the floor-length window glass that framed the downtown skyline. The force of his impact shattered the window and sent hundreds of tiny shards of the custom-designed, high-tech glass cascading out into the howling blizzard. Immediately, the powerful wind pushed the deadly blades back into the room with the velocity of a hurricane. As he hovered in the air outside the building for a few seconds before beginning the change, he glanced back over his shoulder. All four of the vampires were screaming and flailing, ripping the glass projectiles from their bodies, blood everywhere. He hoped they’d act instinctively and follow him out the window. He knew that as newborn vampires, they wouldn’t die when they hit the cement below, but they’d be out of commission for quite a while. Their entire bodies would have to regenerate. They didn’t have the ability yet -- if they ever would -- to change form. Willing the transformation from body to mist, he had the usual sensation of his consciousness spreading out like spilled water. The shift was disconcerting and uncomfortable, as if what made him a distinct individual haddissipated, fragmented. He dropped the bedding he’d been carrying and lost all awareness of physical form. He’d just made the complete transition, when he felt the four vampire bodies fall through him. If all four of them were tumbling down twenty floors toward the asphalt below, that meant Tempest was safe, at least from this particular group of nightwalkers. WhenMalveaux was finished with them, what was left wouldn’t constitute much of a group. Whether Tempest was safe from him, though, was an entirely different question. He floated fog-like, misty, all the way down the side of the hotel, noticing at least a few mortals standing at windows along the way, their faces registering shocked surprise. No doubt they’d seen the bodies fall. If he wanted to add a paranormal element to their window-gazing experience, he could transform his

white fog into something that would stand out against the falling snow. Maybe something that could ooze, but he couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for fun and games. There was too much to do. It would be interesting to see how the hotel explained the damage to the room and the rumors of flying bodies. Not to mention the naked woman in the closet. If their much-advertised soundproofing lived up to its reputation, perhaps it would be a while before anyone discovered the carnage. Coming to rest in the alley behind the hotel, he reversed the transformation and eagerly shifted himself back into his normal vampire shape. The sensation of reforming into the physical was as unpleasant for him as the opposite had been, but not exactly painful, because he couldn’t experience pain. He was too old for that, except, of course, the kind of pain that would come from having his head chopped off or his heart extracted. If he could get through the night without having those experiences, he was probably going to be pain-free. Standing in the alley, naked, in the midst of a once-in-a-century blizzard, he searched for the temporarily-stunned bodies of the bloodsuckerswho’d dived out of the window after him. In the short time it had taken him to descend as fog, the snow had covered over the motionless stooges. Since Malveaux hadn’t paid much attention to the storm, discovering that the snow had already hidden the vampires was an unexpected bonus. In fact, as he noticed the faintest lightening of the eastern sky, it occurred to him that the pitiful oafs probably wouldn’t survive to terrorize the city another night. The sun would exact revenge enough, even if it was obscured by storm clouds. And if he didn’t want to become a pile of ashes in the snow himself, he’d better get his naked ass under cover, and he’d be damned if he’d leave without his car. His leather was one thing, but his silver baby was quite another. Normally, he wouldn’t parade around nude in downtownDetroit , but the blizzard had driven everyone indoors, and if he did happen to encounter anyone, he’d just suggest that they’d never seen him. He had to admit that his ability to control minds was one aspect of being a vampire he really loved. Oh, the joy of never arguing with anyone. He jogged up the alley toward the hotel’s main entrance, assuming the parking garage would be close. Reaching the corner of the hotel, he stopped to make sure the street was empty. Finding that was the case, he stepped out onto the snow-buried sidewalk and navigated toward the driveway into the hotel’s underground area. Sensing only one stream of human thoughts and emotions nearby, he moved with vampire speed into the parking garage and found the human attendant sleeping in his booth. He sent a suggestion to deepen the man’s sleep and found his keys immediately on a hook near the drooling human’s head. His were the only keys with a little coffin dangling from the ring. Pressing the button to raise the gate at the exit,Malveaux left the man snoozing in the warm booth and headed toward his Jaguar. If he hadn’t had so much of Tempest’s delicious blood earlier, he might have been tempted to slake his thirst with the man, but drinking any more would be for habit’s sake rather than out of true hunger. He didn’t have any more time to waste; he could feel the sun rising. Clicking the alarm off, he unlocked his door and pressed the button on his key ring to start the car. Sliding into the soft leather seat, he revved the motor, put the car in first gear, and rolled out into the pounding blizzard.

***** He’d lied to Tempest about his residence being far away. Rolling silently along the empty streets, he reached his temporary accommodations within moments of leaving the hotel’s parking garage. His employer thoughtMalveaux would appreciate the unique isolation of the “housing” the organization provided. He was right. Malveauxturned down one ofDetroit ’s oldest streets, one of the few remaining paved in actual bricks. A hundred years ago,St. Clair Boulevard was the main thoroughfare in the wealthiest part of the city. Then, majestic gated mansions lined the street instead of the graffiti fouled ruins crumbling behind rusty fences he observed today. One of the dilapidated buildings shared land withDetroit ’s oldest cemetery, which had fallen into the same apathetic disrepair as the rest of the area. Turning into the entryway ofWoodwardCemetery ,Malveaux drove through the permanently open wrought iron gates, and cruised silently through the untouched snow, heading toward the most desolate portion of the graveyard. He almost wished the myth about vampires and holy ground was true, because having his body burst into flames would definitely make for a memorable evening. As the Jaguar rolled through the deep snow, its windshield wipers barely able to keep pace with the constant build-up ofwinter’s best,Malveaux let the otherworldly energy of the cemetery trickle through his aura. The feeling was almost intoxicating.So much death. He’d never taken the time to sort out the various aspects he’d always sensed around graveyards, but he had to admit to a fascination with the things that whispered to him in the darkness.Things that touched him with icy spirit fingers. Graveyards were often magnets for others of his kind, as well as the mysterious beings -- embodied and otherwise -who’d remained, addicted to the scent of death. Malveauxpumped the brakes, slowing the car as it neared the end of the road. Looming directly ahead was a large gothic-style building, still in remarkably good shape. It had been built more than a century ago as a memorial to a wealthy man’s mistress. Seems she’d died under mysterious circumstances. Studying the structure,Malveaux suspected the historical landmark had escaped the fate of the homes he’d passed earlier, both because it belonged to his short-tempered employer and because this particular graveyard was considered to be the most haunted in theMidwest . Even the most ardent juvenile delinquents had a healthy respect for superstition. Picking up the remote door opener he’d left in the passenger’s seat,Malveaux clicked the button and waited while a large square of stone slid to the right, leaving a car-sized opening in the structure. He drove through the unofficial garage door and followed the dirt driveway that angled sharply down, ending in an underground chamber, deep beneath the house above. As he descended, he clicked the device again and heard the heavy stone slide back across the entrance, blocking his hideaway from view. Another click turned on the soft electric lights that masqueraded as torches spaced regularly along the stone walls. Although perfect for his needs, he knew his employer hadn’t created this place withMalveaux in mind. Even without his enhanced senses, he’d have been able to smell the various illegal items that had been stored here over the years: alcohol during Prohibition, guns, drugs, and the subtle scent of blood, no doubt a byproduct of some of the nasty little activities inner city humans liked to participate in. He smiled,

thinking how considerate his employer was to provide his favorite fragrance. He reached his hand toward the door handle, and his fingers brushed against his cock, which was still thick and rigid, pointing northward like a fleshy compass. In all the excitement withQuade’s henchmen, he’d forgotten about the state of his erection, temporarily becoming too distracted to obsess about Tempest and his missed opportunity. He stared down at his belligerently unyielding cock and knew he’d have to take matters in hand if he was to get any day rest at all. He’d learned that masturbation couldn’t do more than take the edge off his need, but he’d settle for even a brief respite from the tension. Stepping out of the car, he sensed the sun break free of the horizon, and even though he was underground and safe from the solar rays, he felt the familiar pressure building, rather like a weight on his chest. Moving quickly to the steel-reinforced door leading to his sleeping quarters, he entered, locked it from the inside, and stalked toward the extra-large silver coffin resting on a pedestal against the far wall. The coffin was either evidence of his employer’s sense of humor, or his ignorance.Malveaux would have preferred a comfortable bed, but had no problem with his current accommodations. After making sure the coffin lid was still upright as he’d left it, and the interior of his resting place was to his liking, he climbed in. Settling himself, he pulled the lid down with one hand and grasped his cock in the other. He smiled, thinking of his evening with Tempest, and what was yet to come. No pun intended. Chapter Six

Tempest gasped, and her eyes flew open. Something had startled her out of a pleasant, very arousing dream. She didn’t know if she’d heard, felt or imagined whatever had jolted her into wakefulness, but now that she was awake, where the hell was she? Wherever she was, it was pitch black, and it smelled like fresh paint. Instinctively, she tried to lift her arms to investigate, and realized they were pinned against her sides, held in place by some kind of soft fabric in which she was apparently wrapped. “What the fuck?” She wiggled furiously, shifting from side to side, trying to dislodge whatever was holding her prisoner, and managed to kick her legs free. More jostling loosened what she now realized was a blanket and released her arms. She sat up slowly, not sure how much space she had above her body, and tentatively stretched her arms out to explore the darkness. Her left hand quickly connected with a wall, and she leaned to the right, reaching to discover if there was another wall on the other side. There was. Pushing the blanket completely off her naked body, she felt along the floor, sliding her hand over the carpeting. She took a deep breath and ran her hands over her skin. “Okay, Tempest. We don’t know what the fuck’s going on here, but we seem to be in one piece.” She’d gotten in the habit of talking to herself out loud during her lonely childhood. Whenever scary things happened, she’d imagine all the parts of herself gathering in a group, waiting for the fearless part to take charge. Fearless hadn’t let them down yet. Her eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, and she noticed a crack of light at the bottom of the wall to her

left. She shifted onto her side and rested her head on the floor near the thin line of brightness shining from a light source outside the wall. “Fuckin’ A!This is a goddamn door!” She remained on the floor for a few seconds, listening for any sounds that would give her a clue about her situation, but there was only silence. She rose up onto her knees and moved her hands along the flat surface until she found what she was looking for: a doorknob. “Yes!” She grabbed the knob, ready to burst out of the weird cubbyholesomebody’d put her in, then she stopped, plopping her ass down on her heels. “Hmmm. Wait.Let’s just think about this. The last thing I remember is being with the pretty boy in the fancy hotel. We’d been screwing…no wait, we’d finished screwing, andMalveaux’d gotten up for some reason. Yeah, there was somebody at the door.” She grasped the sides of her head in her hands. “Why the hell am I so fuzzy? I don’t remember drinking anything tonight. Did the bastard drug me?” She shook her head, hoping to clear the fog. “I said he was lying about being in the mob, and then -- fuck! Then what? What’s the matter with my brain?” She shook her head again. Tempest had seen enough mob and gang violence in her life to know that just being safe for the moment didn’t mean dick. She had no illusions about false security. Anything -- and anyone -- could be outside that door, but she couldn’t just sit there. She’d learned long ago that the fantasy of a knight in shining armor coming to rescue her was a pitiful hallucination. Her imaginary savior had obviously gotten horse-jacked by the local Bloods andCrips and was now ameth addict, selling teenage girls into white slavery to get his fix. Nobody had ever rescued her. She was definitely on her own. “Suck it up, Tempest.” Sliding her hand along the wood, she found the doorknob again and turned it gently, pushing against the door to create a sliver of eyeball space. There didn’t seem to be any activity nearby, so she opened the door enough to stick her head out and scan the area. She was in a bedroom. Was it the bedroom she’d had sex withMalveaux in? If it was, why was the bed made? She looked around. No. It wasn’t the same room. The furniture was arranged differently. Opposite. Then she remembered;Malveaux had rented a suite. Somehow she’d ended up in the spare room, in africkin ’ closet. As she opened the door wider to crawl out, a burst of cold air shocked her. She dragged the blanket out of the closet, wrapped it around herself and stood, listening. Tiptoeing toward the doorway to the well lit living room area, she felt the temperature plunge. She pulled the blanket tighter around her. Her teeth chattered. She’d seen a lot of things in her thirty years, but nothing quite matched the scene in front of her. The room was trashed. A huge portion of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows was missing, shards of glass glistened around the floor, like a sharp-edged minefield. The blizzard still raged outside and had found its way inside. Snow angled in through the gaping hole, the wind sculpting snow drifts throughout the room. The stark white of the snow was shot through with vibrant reds and pinks. She recognized the look and smell of blood and stood stunned. Blood was everywhere. It pooled on the expensive furniture and on the white carpet. It dripped down the gold etched wallpaper like a Stephen King horror movie.

It looked like a bomb had gone off, or something had crashed through the window. Had she slept through a terrorist attack? Was there a mob hit? Had they checked into the Overlook Hotel? Her mind was spinning. Where the fuck wasMalveaux ? How did she get into the closet? Why was she still alive? Why didn’t the hotel send anybody up? Surely the place wasn’tthat soundproofed? She could either stand there, freezing, trying to make sense of the madness in the room, or she could get the hell out. Questions could wait. Being street smart had kept her alive so far. There was no reason to abandon her instincts now. She was a believer in luck. Not wanting to jinx it, she ran into the bedroom she’d shared with the sex stud, and searched for her clothes.Malveaux’s leather pants and boots were still there. She stood, shaking her head and staring down at what she thought wereMalveaux’s last remains. “Whoa. It looks like you didn’t go out under your own power, pretty boy. No time to put your pants on. That’s not a good sign. Shit. Iwoulda liked to have your cock around for company a while longer.So much for hanging out with Family members.” Shaking off the momentary sadness about what she imagined had happened to the handsome stranger, she launched into an all-out search for her own clothing. All the bedding was gone from the bed, so she quickly looked underneath and throughout the rest of the room. “Damn! Where are my fucking clothes?” Then her memory pressed rewind. She’d stripped forMalveaux in the living room. She frowned, clutched the blanket closer around her, and shuffled back into the main room. It was so cold she could see her breath; her body involuntarily trembled. Since she was barefoot, it seemed like a bad idea to step on any of the hundreds of tiny shards of glass, so she stood back, surveying the area for a glimpse of anything that belonged to her. She spied her pink tank top first. Saturated with snow and blood, it was useless, but that didn’t really matter. It had been a cheap toss-off anyway. Her blue jeans were in the same condition, covered with fine particles of glass that sparkled in the light. Yeah. She’d be putting those back on any minute now. “Yes!” She smiled wide. There were her boots. She’d thrown them against the wall, and they’d escaped the bloody, wet remnants of whatever had happened. Edging around the fringes of the room, Tempest gathered up her knee-high boots and hurried back into the unused bedroom. Sitting on the bed, she slid them on, the inexpensive leather cold and rigid against her skin. She stood, stomping her feet against the carpet to stretch out the tight leather. “Okay. We’ve got foot coverings. Let’s go back in and look for Dad’s jacket.” Grabbing a handful of the corner of the blanket, she hefted it up off the floor, holding it like a little girl wearing her mother’s much-too-long evening gown. She crunched over the tiny fragments of glass, almost losing her balance a couple of times as she slid on the bloody snow. Baffled by how it could’ve gotten there, she found her treasured Jim Morrison jacket hanging from a small light fixture in the dining area at the far end of the suite. Wow, she thought. That must have been some blast.

She took the jacket down from its perch and inspected the well-worn garment. Aside from a little blood and something else she didn’t want to investigate too closely, the jacket had survived unscathed. Crossing over to the bathroom, she used one of the pristine towels to wipe off the questionable substances from her heirloom and dropped the blanket. Sliding the jacket on, she laughed out loud at the sight of herself in the mirror. Her long, dark hair was tangled and sticking up in mad chunks, her pale face even whiter than usual. The “water-proof, smudge-proof” mascara she’d applied before leaving for the gig was now smeared all over her face. But that was nothing compared to the picture she made wearing the open jacket, one breast peeking out, and the boots. She looked like Amazon Ho. If the doorman had treated her like a sidewalk hooker before, now he’d really get his rocks off. She pulled at the bottom of the jacket, trying to stretch it to cover as much of her legs as possible. Luckily, the coat was too big for her, and when she zipped it up, it was long enough so nothing that would get her arrested would show. Maybe she could find another way out of the hotel, so that she wouldn’t have to be the entertainment for the graveyard shift. She took a couple of steps toward the door and froze. “Fuck! Goddamn it to hell!” She turned to a big, overstuffed chair sitting next to the telephone table, tipped it over, and then kicked at it a few times, causing it to scoot across the carpet. “What fucking else can happen?” Her guitar and the briefcase she’d inherited from her musician uncle. She’d left them inMalveaux’s car. Even if she managed to find the damn car in the parking lot, how the hell was she supposed to convince the attendant to let her get her stuff out? Especially looking like Wonder Ho. What if the mobsters had takenMalveaux’s car? She thought about how long it had taken her to save up for that Fender Stratocaster guitar and what her chances were of buying a replacement anytime soon. Then there were all the original tunes she’d made demos of in the briefcase. Demos she’d paid a mint to record for the music producer who’d expressed interest.Plus the lyric master sheets. She just had to get everything back. That was all there was to it. Kicking the chair one more time, just for the hell of it, she opened the suite door, checked both directions of the empty hallway, and stepped out. The moment the door closed and locked behind her, she felt a draft on her legs and pivoted, grabbing the door handle. Damn! Why the fuck hadn’t she snagged one of those huge bath towels to wrap around her lower body? Was her brain totally out to lunch? It would have looked weird, but who cared? At least she’d have some protection from the cold. Too late now. Since she didn’t have a key card for the room, there was no going back, even if she was willing to spend one more second in Mob Manor. Not wanting to take the main elevator, she wandered the corridor, looking for the stairs, and found them. The idea of trucking down twenty stories didn’t make her heart sing, but she’d do whatever it took to get herself out of the hotel without gathering an audience. The click-clack of her boots echoed in the stairwell and kept her company as she rushed toward the lower level. She’d just started to wonder if she’d ever find the damn garage when she reached the bottom of the stairs and eyeballed the red neon arrow pointing toward a heavy door. She opened it and stepped into the sea of cars. Damn, it was cold. The bare skin in the gap between her boots and the jacket tingled in the frigid air. Not to mention the crispy flow going up the inside of her loose jacket. She could feel her nipples harden and stand at attention. Thinking about her nipples reminded her ofMalveaux .

“Damn. I would’ve kept him around for a while. Maybe,” she mumbled under her breath. “I could’ve gotten used to that gorgeous face and the way he licked my clit…” She closed her eyes to relish the imaginary sensation. The memory of the feel of his tongue made moisture pool between her legs. She couldn’t recall ever being so turned on by somebody. It was just herfreakin ’ luck that what was left of him was probably being added to the foundation of a new inner city construction project right about then. “Stop thinking with your pussy, Tempest, and get the helloutta here.” She ducked down behind a minivan and started looking forMalveaux’s silver Jaguar. At least he had a distinctive car. She wouldn’t have to waste time picking out the right vehicle. It turned out there weren’t as many cars in the underground parking lot as she’d expected. Maybe the storm had kept everyone off the streets and out of the downtown area. Her frustration grew as she realized that the silver Jag wasn’t there. Circling around the attendant’s booth, she looked for the person on duty; the booth seemed to be deserted. She finally crept close enough to see a guy sleeping, his face and flabby upper body sprawled on the counter near the key hooks. She leaned back against a BMW parked by the booth, and sighed. Her night had gone from crap to amazing back to crap again. Her options were limited. She couldn’t call a cab to get home because all of her money was in her briefcase. So was her cell phone. She didn’t even have fifty cents for a goddamn phone call. And she was dressed like she was hired to jump out of a biker’s birthday cake.Fucking mafia idiots. She’d learned her lesson. No more screwing criminals. No matter how gorgeous they happened to be. She crossed her arms and thought that it probably wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if she woke the attendant, flashed her tits and asked him for help. She prided herself on being pragmatic. Even if she had to give him a quick hand job, it would be better than freezing her ass off in a parking garage. She pursed her lips, hoping his greasy hair wasn’t a tip-off about his general state of hygiene. She opened the door of the heated booth, stepped inside, reveled in the warmth and cleared her throat. “Hey! Mr. Attendant! Wake up!” He smacked his lips together, snorted and sank back into sleep. She bent down close to his face and yelled, “Wake up!” No response. The guy had to be the deepest sleeper she’d ever seen, or maybe he was stoned. She shook his shoulder vigorously.Still no reaction. “Shit! I know you’re not dead because I heard you snort! Wake up! I need help!” He shifted in his chair and farted. She fanned the air in front of her nose. “Perfect. Thank you for living down to my expectations.” No silver Jag, no money, no cell phone, a comatose parking attendant and a blizzard. “Once again, my cuprunneth over. Cup of shit, that is.” Just as she was glancing about, searching for something to kick, she saw the cell phone sticking out of the attendant’s backpocket . A wicked smile curved Tempest’s mouth, and she grabbed the phone, pressing a button to see if it was functional. She knew that if the battery was dead or there was no service, she’d heave the phone through the glass. After all, broken windows seemed to be the theme for the evening. The planets had decided to line up in her favor, because the phone worked. Maybe the bad karma she’d stepped in had fallen off her

shoe. She danced a little celebration boogie and dialed a familiar number. The phone rang a long time before a muffled voice answered. “What? It’s the crack of fucking dawn. Who is this?” “Stan?” “Huh? “Stan? Wake up, Stan!” “Tempest?” “Yeah, it’s me. I need help.” “Whaddyamean you need help? Are you hurt? Did that asshole hurt you? I knew he was a mob guy. I told you. You never listen to me. Where are you? What happened?” “I’m okay. I’m just stranded. It’s a long story. Can you come downtown and get me?” “Shit, Tempest.Downtown? Do you know there’s a blizzard outside?My car’s crap. I barely made it home from the bar. And I’ve had a few.” “Stan. Concentrate. I need you to come and get me. Remember all the times I pulled your ass out of one bar or another? You owe me.” “Yeah, yeah, okay. Cool your jets. I’ll use my neighbor’s truck. At least it doesn’t have bald tires. Where are you?” She told him where the hotel was and where she’d be waiting. Then she sat down on the edge of the counter, listening to the snoring attendant. She stared out the booth window toward the street entrance and watched the dawn break over another glorious day in paradise. Chapter Seven

“So, what the fuck happened? Where are your clothes?” Stan demanded. He’d arrived to fetch Tempest in his neighbor’s monster truck, the kind that wobbled on gigantic tires and required a boost up to get into the cab. His long blond hair gave new meaning to the words “bed head,” and his face sported acriss -cross pattern from where he’d buried his face in his pillow. He smelled like a brewery. Tempest smacked her face with her palms, trying to wake up. “I’mgonna give you the short version, ‘cause my brain’srunnin ’ on empty. It turns out you were right. The guy is a Family member, or, should I say,was a Family member. Some of his relatives showed up to pay their respects. I remember hearing noises out in the hallway, then I must’ve blacked out, or something. Maybe the asshole drugged me. I don’t know. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a dark closet, the room was trashed, and I was alone.”

He gave her a quick look, and then shifted his eyes back to the windshield, squinting to see the road through the whiteout. “I told you not to hang with mob dudes. Sometime you’regonna pick the wrong guy and I’ll be getting a call from the hospital or the morgue. And that’ll really piss me off. Where would we find another guitar player with tits like yours?” Tempest smiled and patted his arm. Stan always gave her hell when he was worried about her. He was such a pussy. But itwaskinda nice to have somebody care enough to give obnoxious lectures. “Do you want to come home with me? Or should I take you to your place?” he asked. She heard the hopeful tone in his voice and thought about it for a moment before answering. Crawling into a warm bed with Stan’s muscular body and his ever-ready cock would usually be a no-brainer. He’d snore and steal all the covers, but she knew he’d be there when she woke up. But, as much as she didn’t want to admit it even to herself, she felt weird aboutMalveaux . She’d really liked him and was sad about his death. He had to be dead. There wasn’t any other reason he would’ve left without his clothes. Being with someone else right away -- even Stan -- seemed disrespectful, somehow. Not to mention creepy. “It’s closer to just drop me at my place. I need a shower and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, which I wouldn’t get with Energizer Bunny Cock there.” She laughed and shoved her hand into Stan’s crotch. The truck swerved as Stan jerked the steering wheel. “Hey! Cut that the hell out. Youwanna get us into an accident? There’s a fucking blizzard out there.” He frowned and tightened his grip on the wheel. “Geez, since when don’t you like having your nuts massaged? I’m just trying to show my gratitude for the crack-of-dawn rescue. See what happens the next time you whine to me about your alleged blue balls.” He laughed. “Blue balls are a scientific fact. Just ’cause chicks don’t get blue clit doesn’t mean it isn’t a real thing. If you keep teasing Little Stan, he’ll get so frustrated that he’ll have purple balls instead of blue!” Tempest smiled, thinking how easy it was to distract Stan from one of his relentless diatribes about how she should move in with him, or they should get married, or one of a hundred other “shoulds” he had on a mental list. She loved him, just not the way he wanted. They finally reached Tempest’s apartment building, a thirty-minute crawl due to the unrelenting snow. The only other traffic they’d passed had been snowplows and a few city buses.

She leaned over and kissed Stan’s cheek. “I really do appreciate you. I hope I’m half as good a friend to you as you are to me. I don’t know what I’d do withoutyou, or Little Stan for that matter. You’re a great drummer and a great friend He grabbed her hair as she reached for the door handle.“Yeah. You’re justblowin ’ smoke up my ass ’cause you don’twanna talk about anything important. I’m not as dense as you think I am, but that’s okay. I’m too tired to fight with you about your screwed-up ideas about men. Hey, shit!” He swiveled his head around, checking out the small back seat and the floor around Tempest’s feet. “Where’s your ax? Don’t tell me you left your guitar at that hotel?”

“No. I didn’t leave it at the damn hotel, if it’s any of your business. I left it in pretty boy’s car.” Stan brought his face within inches of Tempest’s. “You’re jerkin’ me! You left your pride and joy in the asshole’s Jag? What the hell’s the matter with you? Did he really fuck your brains out?” Tempest swiveled, kicked the door open with her foot, and slid down into the deep snow. A blast of frigid air on her ass told her that the bottom of her jacket was caught on the edge of the seat, exposing her lower body to the elements. It was lucky the visibility sucked, because otherwise the driver of the snowplow that just passed would’ve gotten onehelluva show. She tugged on the bottom of her coat and stomped a foot, which caused her to lose her balance on some hidden ice. Grabbing the truck door, she screamed in frustration. Stan had hit the nail on the head. Damn it. She hated that he knew her so well, and that he knew just how to piss her off. “Hey! Don’t fuck with me, Stan.” She kicked at the snow. “Yeah, he did. He fucked my brains out. He had the biggest cock I ever sucked, and he could make it dance and do tricks I’ve never seen before. He could license it as a tour bus and rent it out for groups. Is that what you want to hear? I was so horny that I didn’t even think about my guitar. I couldn’t think about anything but his huge cock. His balls…” The expression on Stan’s stricken face was a mixture of rage, horror and grief, and the sight of it made Tempest bite off the rest of the hateful words waiting to spew out. She felt as if she’d just kicked her favorite puppy, or she’d thrown that puppy into the path of a reeking garbage truck. Damn her out-of-control temper. Would she ever stop attacking the few people who actually loved her? The skin on her ass went numb and prickled with a needle-like sensation. All she needed was to end up with frostbite on her butt. She sighed and gazed up at Stan’s exhausted, disappointed face. Her teeth started to chatter. “I’m sorry, Stan. I don’t have any right to say those things to you. I’m an asshole and just wanted to hurt you because you told the truth. You know that I can only hear the truth if it’s the version I like. I’m an emotional toddler with no self-control. Please forgive me. I’m worried about my guitar and not sure how to get it back. It’ll kill me if I lose it, and I feel like the stupidest woman on Earth.” She paused and watched for signs that her bad behavior would be swept under his mental carpet one more time. Seeing the corners of his mouth quirk ever so slightly, she knew his big heart had triumphed over his righteous anger. Luckily, he was an understanding person most of the time. “Thanks again for coming to get me. That was above and beyond. I’ll sleep this shitty mood off and call you later. Maybe you can help me brainstorm how to get my guitar back. I’m really sorry, Stan. Please drive carefully. Turn the radio on so you stay awake.” Stan could sleep anywhere, even while driving, unfortunately. Not making eye contact, he mumbled, “Er, yeah, well, okay. I’ll talk to you later.” Tempest slammed the door and hustled under the overhang in front of her apartment building, watching the truck roll out onto the road. She followed the taillights with her eyes until the snow completely swallowed them up, then she went into the building. The familiar smells in the hallway seemed especially potent and vaguely nauseating. The ever-present curry scent wafting from the Indian couples’ apartment usually made Tempest’s mouth water, but now it turned her stomach. The idiots growing pot in the basement hadn’t learned anything from their last bust. The smell of the huge plants still permeated the

lower level of the building, not to mention the easily identifiable aroma of burning joints. She’d stayed out screwing around all night lots of times. Why did she feel so strange this morning? Her hands were shaking and her knees felt unreliable. She trudged up the stairs to the second floor, hoping her roommate Lauren had finished her post-Hawaiian-vacation homecoming sex hours ago, and was snoozing in her bedroom. With any luck, Lauren wouldn’t have invited half the airplane over for a party. Tempest didn’t feel like explaining her crappy night to anyone else yet. A hot shower and her flannel nightgown called to her as she turned the corner of the hallway leading to her apartment. She was so caught up in the cozy fantasy that she didn’t notice the mountain of a man standing in front of her door until she practically stumbled into him. Startled, she stopped, her eyes scanning the frame of the hulking strangerwho stood more than a foot taller than she did. Damn it. This guy didn’t look like Lauren’s usual type, but her roommate had the “any port in a storm” philosophy about men, and Tempest never knew who she’d find in her shower. She was too tired for this shit. The man wore a cheap-looking black suit with an eye-watering, piss-yellow shirt and a black tie with multicolored cars on it. A pair of lace-up boots with fur around the tops completed his discount-store ensemble. Greasy black hair was combed straight back from his forehead, making him look like an engorged Elvis impersonator. He’d definitely gone overboard on the musky aftershave. He stood with his feet a few inches apart, his hands clasped together like a military guy, and didn’t make eye contact. She couldn’t tell if his bulk was caused by muscles or lard. “Hey, Huge Guy!What are you doing in front of my door? Did Lauren invite you?” The mountain didn’t move. “The boss wants to talk to you. Let’s go. The car’s downstairs.” He had a low-pitched, raspy voice, with an East Coast accent. Except for those few words, he hadn’t acknowledged her presence in any way. He hadn’t even shown interest in the fact that she wore nothing but boots and a baggy leather coat. “You’re nuts. Get out of my way.” Tempest made a futile attempt to shove past the man, and he suddenly grasped her arm in his baseball-mitt-sized hand and started pulling her farther along the hallway, heading for the back stairs. The grip on her arm hurt. She could feel each beefy finger pressing into her skin, even through the leather of her coat. No question; definitely muscles. She tried to dig her heels into the threadbare carpet without success. The guy could really move. “Hey! Let go of me! Hold it! Who thefuck are you? What boss? You’ve definitely got the wrong person. You probably want the drug dealers in the basement or Lola the hooker up on third. Wait! Who are you looking for? Maybe I can point you in the right direction.” He gave her arm a rough tug. “I’m here to collect the whore who was at the hotel. That’s you. So shut your yap and be a good girl.” He made sniffing noises in her direction. “You smell like sex.” Tempest was being pulled down the hall like she weighed nothing, and the man’s words sent a chill up her spine. Thewhore who was at the hotel? Could this nightmare get any worse? The neurons in her brain refused to cooperate. No helpful explanations or escape scenarios came to mind so she grabbed a passing doorknob to try to delay their forward motion. Holding on as tightly as she could, she heard the man laugh before he effortlessly wrenched her hand from the knob.

“What do you want with me? Who is this boss person? What the fuck is going on?” “No questions, girlie. If you don’t walk under your own power, I’ll just drag you down the stairs. Put bruises all over that sweet ass. I don’t think you’d like that. If the boss wants to tell you anything, he will. If not, you’ll just do as you’re told.” “At least let me go to my apartment and change clothes. It’s cold!” He turned his rodent eyes to her and smiled wide, showing brown teeth. “Youshoulda thought of that before you stripped down in the hotel room, slut. Now you can just hope those prime tits don’t freeze and fall off.” He choked out aphlegmy laugh. The guy sounded like a reject from a casting call forThe Godfather . Her stressed-out, overwhelmed brain finally started to connect the dots. More mob guys. But what did they want with her? She hadn’t seen anything. She didn’t know dick about what had gone on after she’d passed out. Was she actually going to be dragged out into the blizzard and taken to some mobster’s lair, or would the psychopath with the Paul Bunyan boots just attack her in the car? She tried grabbing onto the handrail on their way downstairs, but the big guy seemed to have such a good time yanking on her arm that she was afraid he’d gleefully rip it out of its socket. He’d been serious about dragging her if she didn’t cooperate. She knew his type. She was just a piece of ass to him. Better to shut up and go along until an option showed up.If an option showed up. The door at the bottom of the stairs was magically opened by a clone of her escort. The new guy shuffled over to a black van parked in the alley with the engine running. He pulled back the side panel, and Brown Teeth pushed Tempest inside. She landed on her back with her legs splayed. Both men laughed at her as she closed her legs, sat up, and tried to pull her coat down. The fall had twisted her back, and she couldn’t find a comfortable position. The door opener cupped his cock, made a licking motion with his tongue, and said, “I’ll ride in the back with the merchandise.” Brown Teeth shoved him aside. “You got shit for brains? The boss wants her.” He slammed the sliding door, and they both climbed into the two fronts seats. As the van rolled along the alley, Tempest searched for anything she could use as a weapon, something that might give her the opportunity to buy a few seconds to make a getaway. But the only thing sharing her space was a collection of crumpled fast-food bags, empty cigarette packs, and a suspiciously red-stained towel in the corner. She didn’t relish the idea of running half-naked through a blizzard, but the alternative seemed worse. One of her captors turned on the radio and heavy metal blared from the over-sized speakers, causing her to briefly cover her ears with her hands. The music was so loud she couldn’t hear what the two mob guys were talking about, but they seemed to be having a heated discussion about something. One of them pointed a thumb in her direction. She had a bad feeling about the topic. ***** It was a short ride. Just as Tempest’s exhaustion wrestled down her fear and she started to nod off, the van came to a sliding halt. When her abductors turned off the engine, the music blaring from the radio suddenly ended and the silence was thick. It was almost surreal, as if all sound had been sucked from the universe. Her mouth went dry, and her stomach fluttered with anxiety. As a musician, Tempest was used to attacking her eardrums regularly with a wall of sound, but in her present anxious condition, the silence felt like instant deafness. Maybe the heavy snow created an additional acoustic damper, or maybe she

was just so tired she was about to lose it completely. The whole thing was weird. Not only did she have the sense of floating in a soundless void, but the two goons in the front seemed to be motionless, as if her brain had pressed an inner “pause” button. Nothing had felt normal to her since her brief time withMalveaux . Her reality train had definitely derailed. He must have drugged her. She was startled out of her altered state by the slamming of the front doors. Her entourage had gotten out of the van, and Brown Teeth was tugging the side door open. A blast of cold air triggered an adrenaline rush and set her teeth chattering again. “Come on, girlie. End of the line. Haul ass.” Brown Teeth grabbed one of her ankles, dragging her by one leg toward the opening. She didn’t have time to brace herself, so her upper body slammed back against the floor. Her coat was bunched up around her waist. The other evil Elvis snickered as he leaned in and slid a finger along Tempest’s exposed clit. “I’mgonna get me some of that, one way or another,” he wheezed. Tempest didn’t even blink. Her free leg kicked out, and her foot caught him between the eyes. He went down like a skyscraper in an earthquake and didn’t move. Her martial arts training was the best investment she’d ever made. “Fuck,” Brown Teeth growled, releasing his grip on her ankle. “He’d better not be dead, or it’ll be your ass.” Tempest jumped out of the van, pulled her jacket down and got up in Brown Teeth’s face. She couldn’t see any benefit to playing victim. “Yeah, you’re big and bad. I get it. If you’regonna kill me, just do it, but nobody touches my pussy without an invitation, and you two assholes don’t have one.” He took a step back and laughed. “I wouldn’t touch that pussy with somebody else’s dick. All you working girls got cooties.” He looked down at the stunned mobster crumpled in the deep snow. “I’ll take you downstairs then come back for him. Theboss don’t take kindly to chicksknockin ’ out his second cousin. You better hope he’sfeelin ’ generous today. Let’s go.” Tempest didn’t care if the idiot thought she was a hooker. It wasn’t a news flash that most men she met hated women. They thought the only thing women were good for was fucking and sucking cock. Of course, the housewife version had to do the cooking and cleaning bit too. In the inner city, it was still 1950, but if she was going to get wasted by some mob boss, she’d at least go down fighting. They’d pulled up in the alley behind an old multi-story building. The nearest door was labeled “deliveries,” and she guessed that’s what she was. Strong smells assailed her nostrils, spicy smells that should be mouth-watering, but instead made her queasy. As Brown Teeth steered her into a large area filled with tables piled with food, she saw a sign in the corner that read, “Motor City Catering.” Well, that explained the aromas. She suddenly realized it had been almost a full day since she’d eaten anything. No wonder her brain was mush. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to them as they passed through the room. Women of various ages stood at the tables and along large sinks, chopping, arranging and packaging food.

They passed through a doorway at the far end of the room, and stood at the top of a set of stairs. “Try not to fall, girlie. I wouldn’twannahavta tell the boss you had an accident.” He yanked on her arm, and they climbed down a long staircase. She didn’t know how far underground they were, but she suddenly felt cold and clammy, as if she were walking down into a crypt. Not that she knew what it felt like to be in a crypt, but she had a vivid imagination. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Pee Wee Herman -- or a guy who looked just like him -- met them and gave Tempest’s body a serious eye scan. “The boss had to run an errand. He said to put the merchandise in the spare room.” Pee Wee was shorter than Tempest, but he managed to work up a good leer. “I’ll take her.” Brown Teeth must have been lower on the feeding chain than Pee Wee, because he nodded and stepped away, trudging back up the stairs. “This way,” the small man said. He escorted Tempest to a room at the end of the hallway and opened the door. Reaching into the room, he clicked on the overhead light and extended his arm in a sweep like a game show host. “Here’s your crib for the next few hours. There’s a couch and some blankets. Turn on the TV if you want. Somebody will bring you some food. I’m sure the boss doesn’t want you to starve to death, at least not until he talks to you.” He found that so amusing he squeaked out a hiccupping, high-pitched laugh. “In you go.” He shoved Tempest, and she saw his eyes fix on her thighs and the glimpse of ass that no doubt flashed as she caught her balance. “Maybe I’ll come back down and keep you company,” Pee Wee told her. “Yeah, you do that,” she said, smirking at him. “And if you find any men on your way down, bring them along, too. I don’t do gnomes.” PeeWee’s face twisted into an ugly mask, exposing the true character hiding behind the insipid exterior. He backed away and slammed the door. Tempest heard the key turn in the lock. Chapter Eight

Malveaux’seyes opened, and he shoved against the top of the coffin, slanting the lid back against the wall of his lair. He sat up. Something felt wrong. He usually arose with all his hungers riding him like a ravenous beast, and his only concern was which desire to sate first and where. The beast was tormenting him, as always, but he felt strange. In all his many years, he’d never awakened with someone else’s voice in his head. Absently rubbing his rigid cock, he mentally scanned the environment inside his hiding place, and outside in the cemetery, seeking the source of the foreign thoughts and emotions. Perhaps some of the superstitious juvenile delinquents

had decided to visit the graveyard after all. He’d have to give them a big enough scare to send them away permanently. Maybe he’d drag one of them inside for breakfast. But the voice -- the emotions -- seemed female…and familiar. He climbed out of the ornate coffin and strode into the bathroom, the odd remnants still floating through his mind. He stepped into the large glass-enclosed shower, turned on the hot water, and lathered himself with soap, replaying the events of the night before. Grasping his erection, he stroked vigorously, recalling the sensation of pounding into Tempest’s snug pussy and imagined what it would be like to have access to that succulent slit for all eternity. He growled as he exploded in pleasure, sending a thick spray of semen dripping down the glass. Tempest.The voice was hers. He froze under the hot water, listening to the dream-like dialog running through his mind. He didn’t usually pick up the thoughts of his victims from such a distance unless he intended to. Being a passive receiver hadn’t ever happened before, but then he’d never come so close to making anyone his offspring. Perhaps she’d gotten more of his blood on her tongue than he thought before they’d been so rudely interrupted. The notion of already being so connected to her was exciting. Her thoughts were chaotic. She was very angry about something. Malveauxturned off the water, stepped out of the shower and dried himself. He sat down on one of the marble benches in the dressing area and closed his eyes, concentrating on Tempest’s thoughts. She was yelling at someone who was holding her prisoner, a man she identified as Pee Wee in her thoughts. Intrigued, he willed himself into her consciousness and watched through her eyes as a small man came toward her and grabbed her arm. “I’mtakin ’ you to the boss now. Be a good little slut or else.” “Get away from me, asshole!” Tempest pushed the guy, and he went down on his ass. The look on his face as he climbed to his feet toldMalveaux that his offspring wasn’t safe in that place. Tempest didn’t know what kind of sick fuck she was dealing with. ButMalveaux did. The small man was his employer’s pet psychopath. Malveauxstrode over to the closet, pulled various pieces of black clothing from the hangers, and dressed quickly. He’d considered morphing into one of his alternate forms immediately so he could get to Tempest right away, but he needed to take his car. He didn’t think the bond between them would extend to her being able to morph with him, so human transportation was necessary to retrieve her. He decided to collect his few personal items, just in case he didn’t return to this location. He filled a small suitcase, gathered the rest of the clothes from the closet and walked around the area, making sure he hadn’t left anything behind. His stomach tightened, and he felt his anger build as he made his way to the garage. He couldn’t wait to wrap his fingers around the maniac’s neck. That kind of disrespect was intolerable. The small man had to know that Tempest was connected to him. There was no other reason they would have collected her. He couldn’t understand what his employer was up to. The mobster boss was the only one in his organization who knew whatMalveaux really was; he’d hired him for that very reason, and since he knew what Malveaux was capable of, he had to know he was playing with fire. Malveauxclicked on the lights, opened the car door, and threw his possessions into the back seat. He

did a double-take as he recognized Tempest’s guitar case and briefcase, which were still where he’d stashed them at the start of their evening. She’d probably been frantic when she woke up in the closet, saw the condition of the room, and then realized her guitar was gone. He smiled. She’d be much easier to persuade since he had something she valued. He really didn’t want to overpower her if he didn’t have to. Seduction was so much more interesting. But he’d gladly overpower his employer if necessary. Maybe he’d been too tame with the mob boss, given him a false sense of security.Malveaux ran his tongue over his teeth, aware that his fangs had descended and that he was hungry. Yes, he determined as he slid into the driver’s seat, perhaps it was time to give the boss a lesson in vampire reality. He clicked open the door to the underground garage, rested an arm along the passenger seat of the car, looked back over his shoulder, and waited as the stone slid effortlessly to the side. He shifted into reverse and backed silently up the dirt incline. He’d only gone a couple of feet when he stomped on the brakes, cursing. “Fuck! What the hell?” The top half of the opening gave him a stunning view of the full moon hanging low in a star-studded indigo void. The bottom half was filled with a solid block of white. It wasn’t snowing anymore, but the blizzard had obviously managed to dump several more feet of snow while he’d been dead to the world in his coffin. Annoyed, he unfolded himself from the car and strode up to the opening, glaring at the arctic landscape. The wind had sculpted a huge snowdrift against the Neolithic garage door that had been covering the underground driveway, and now there were mini-mountains of the fluffy stuff sparkling in the moonlight. He threw back his head and laughed at the stupidity of it all. What other vampire would bother digging a car out of a snowstorm, when he merely had to transform and be done with it? Who else would waste his time salvaging either a human toy or a human female? Shaking his head, he smiled. He shouldn’t be surprised. He’d been eccentric even when he was alive. His idiosyncratic tendencies were what had attracted the attention of his sire, which then broughtMalveaux to the never-ending nightmare his life had become. Thinking about Tempest reminded him that there was a score to be settled. The mob boss’s lackey had dared to put hands on his offspring, and retribution was on its way. Turning, he jogged down the driveway, opened the car door, and flipped the transmission into “neutral.” Returning to the rear of the Jag, he grabbed the bumper with one hand, lifted the back tires off the ground, and pulled the car up toward the blocked entranceway. Willing himself to rise into the air, he angled out around the snow peaks, pulling the silver Jag with him. He smiled as he imagined the tales that would be added to the cemetery’s already spooky history if anyone saw the mysterious flying man pulling a silver car through the air. Floating all the way out to the deserted street beyond the gate of the cemetery, he lowered the car, got in, and drove toward the heart of the inner city. Within minutes,Malveaux had parked the Jag one street from the mob boss’s headquarters. Not wanting to lose any more good leather, he stepped out of the car, peeled off his designer clothes, and threw them into the back seat. Using his preternatural speed, he traversed the alley, circled the target building -taking note of the doors and windows -- and located the source of the human thoughts and emotions he

sensed on the lower level. He debated with himself for a moment about the most fulfilling way to make his presence known. Did he want to make a grand entrance? He’d always wanted to recreate his favorite scene from the movieDracula , where the fiend burst through his wooden crate, snarling, as he set upon the meddlesome mortals. It might be fun to crash through a wall or two. Or should he keep a low profile until he figured out what was going on? If he decided to be subtle, transforming into fog wouldn’t work, because how many buildings contained creeping fog? No. He’d have to take the form of a small animal. He grimaced at the thought. Compressing himself into a small form was like being encased in a too-small body cast, or so he imagined. In any event, it was an unpleasant experience. His mental argument abruptly ceased as a high-pitched female scream pierced the air. Grabbing the handle of the door, he tugged just enough to snap the lock, and then morphed into the form of a rat. Scurrying through the now-empty food preparation room, he descended the stairs and headed for the loud voices emanating from the open door at the end of the hall. Malveauxstuck his small head into the room just in time to watch the boss’s pet psychopath wave his pathetic, half-limp cock in front of Tempest’s face. She was secured to a folding chair by duct tape, her hands and feet bound. She was also naked except for her black boots. Huge twin sentinels loomed on either side of her. Seated behind a large 1940’s-era desk was the grinning mob boss, Salvatore Amato. He leaned back in his chair, fingers linked behind his head, as he enjoyed the show. “Stick that pencil dick a little closer to my mouth, motherfucker, and I’ll change it from a compact to a mini.” Pee Wee snickered, rubbing his cock.“Quiet, whore! You’regonna ’ love having your jaws wired open. The boss’s nephew is a dentist. The only thing that will move will be your tongue, and by then you’ll make it do whatever I say. You’ll take me as deep as I want, but you might not be able to sit down by then, ‘cause of what I’mgonna do to your tight little asshole with some of my favorite sex toys. Maybe I’ll give you some laxatives first, just to make it more fun.” Malveauxhad heard enough. He crept into the room, placed himself behind the two goons flanking Tempest, and morphed back into his vampire form. Assuming a monster-movie stance, he raised his arms and snarled, prominently displaying his pointy fangs, along with the other pointy thing exposed by his nudity. Shocked, Pee Wee released his withered cock and stumbled back against the boss’s desk.Malveaux captured the psycho’s frightened eyes and froze him with a mental command. The matching guards simultaneously turned toward him, and he grabbed each by the neck, lifting them off the ground, pressing his sharp fingernails into the soft flesh. He held one struggling mortal in each hand, and felt his heart pound with excitement as his raging blood lust took control. He slammed the two stunned men to the floor, knelt, and drank from the wounds in one neck, then the other, ripping the thin flesh with his sharp canines. He lifted his mouth from the second lifeless body, blood smeared around his lips and chin. Remnants of his feast dripped from the ends of his long hair, which stuck to his chest. The smell of blood enflamed hisneed, and his whole body trembled as he assimilated the crimson manna. He turned his attention to the mob boss, who’d abandoned his chair and now cowered in the far corner of the room, erratically waving his handgun.Malveaux gave the boss a suggestion that he couldn’t move his finger to pull the trigger. Pee Wee stood rigid, awaitingMalveaux’s pleasure, the almost imperceptible movements of his glazed eyeballs providing the only hint that he was still alive.

Malveauxhad momentarily forgotten about Tempest in his feeding frenzy. He vaguely recalled hearing her scream as the frantic blood bath raged behind her. He shifted his gaze to the area in front of her and noticed the spatters of vivid red streaking PeeWee’s clothes and the boss’s desk. He sniffed at the blood dripping down the back of Tempest’s hair as it created little crimson pools underneath her chair. He almost went mad with the thought of licking the blood from her creamy breasts as he pounded his always-hard cock inside her wet slit. Shaking himself out of his bloody trance, he stood and strode over to the terrified mob boss. He kicked the gun out of the gangster’s hand, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and lifted him into the air. “You fucked up, Sal. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to piss off a vampire?” Sal wasn’t a small man by any estimation, and the blubber he’d added to his midsection over the years gave him the appearance of someone who’d likely keel over from a heart attack with the slightest physical exertion. Being hefted into the air by a vampire must have qualified as a stressful event, because Sal’s usually olive complexion turned deathly white. Malveauxlocked eyes with his captive, whose face went slack. “I’m going to take a stroll through what passes for your mind, Sal, and find out what kind of shit you’re trying to pull. Yoube a good little murderer now, and the big, bad vampire won’t have to eat you for dinner.” The muscles in Sal’s cheeks twitched, and saliva dripped from one corner of his mouth. It didn’t take long forMalveaux to uncover the thoughts and memories he sought. After just a few seconds, he jerked his head to the side, effectively breaking the link between his mind and Sal’s. He slanted a dangerous smile at the mob boss, who dangledbonelessly in his grip. “You must be kidding. You can’t possibly be that stupid!”Malveaux scanned the room until he found the stash of “vampire hunter tools” the boss had intended to use on him. He laughed out loud at the box of crosses, garlic bulbs, and bottles of holy water the human had secreted under the desk. “So, you thought you’d subdue me with those superstitious relics, hold me captive, and sell me to my enemies? The very vampires you hired me to exterminate from your territory? Sal, you disappoint me. I’d have thought you’d at least have waited until I’d finished my job, but I have to hand it to you for taking advantage of an unexpected opportunity when it arose. And using the woman as bait? Well done, but I wonder if it was really worth losing two of your bodyguards, one of whom -- if I read your thoughts correctly -- was a relative?Foolish, greedy human. It’s a waste that you brought our association to this harsh conclusion.” With a feral snarl,Malveaux bared the razor-sharp points of his fangs and pierced the large vein in Sal’s neck. He rode the struggling man down to the carpet and proceeded to drink him dry. Having decided to eat the boss for dinner after all,Malveaux feasted, and then stood. He made a useless attempt to wipe away the blood covering the lower half of his face, partially retracted his fangs, and then turned toward Tempest. “He really shouldn’t have pissed me off. Imean, holy water? Please. What kind of way is that for an employer to treat a valued employee? Even though it wouldn’t have done anything to me, it was the intent, don’t you agree?” She sat rigid, her brown eyes wide, her mouth open. Locking his gaze on Tempest, he walked forward to stand next to the incapacitated psychopath. He pointed to Pee Wee as he lifted him by the front of his shirt. “Did he hurt you? I heard some of his

suggestions for recreational activities, which were disgusting enough, but you need to tell me if he harmed you. If he did, his death won’t be quick and merciful.” Tempest still hadn’t made a sound or moved a muscle. Malveauxleaned down to stare into her eyes. “Ah, it appears you’re in shock. Let me just quickly scan your memories to see what our little friend here has been doing, and then we can find someplace perfect to pick up where we left off. You know, I don’t actually need to look into your eyes -- lovely as they are -- to know your thoughts, but it somehow makes the connection much clearer and faster. Hmm, yes. The little fiend didn’t get a chance to have his fun. I spoiled the party. Well, then.” Malveauxgrabbed the top of PeeWee’s head, and twisted it roughly. The sick cracking sound gave evidence of a broken neck. The vampire threw the body to the floor. “He isn’t worth one more minute of our time. We have a much more important agenda for the evening.” He knelt in front of her. “Here. Let me release you.” He effortlessly tore the tape holding Tempest to the chair and ripped the pieces binding her arms and legs. “There, now. Isn’t that better?” He brought his blood-smeared lips near hers, and she jerked back, causing the chair to fall over. Rolling away from her rescuer, she speed-crawled a few feet, turned, and watched him, studying his ever-resilient erection. “Malveaux?” she whispered, her voice trembling as she met his eyes. He gave her a mega-watt smile, displaying a hint of fang.“In the flesh.” They stared at each for a few seconds, and then Tempest let out a shriek that would do a banshee proud. In reaction,Malveaux put his index fingers in his ears, signaling that he was waiting for the unpleasant noise to stop. “Are you finished? We really don’t have time for primal scream therapy right now.” He strode toward Tempest, and she leaped up, backing away. “What the fuck are you?” Chapter Nine

Tempest stared at the bloody, naked man looming over her and tried to make sense of the weird shit that had just slithered into her reality. Her brain had thrown the covers over its head and wasn’t answering the door. Malveauxobviously wasn’t dead, but he was seriously demented.Holy fuck. She’d seen him rip out the fat guy’s throat and drink his blood. His body was coated with the grisly, red stuff. What did this guy think he was?Africkin ’ vampire? She shifted her gaze to his rigid cock. And what kind ofschizo got a woody from killing people?

“Mywoody appreciates your rapt attention, I’m sure, but I think we’d better get out of here before the rest of Sal’s menials arrive. The command I sent to the building’s remaining inhabitants won’t last long, and I’d hate to waste more time disposing of them.” Tempest lifted her head and met his eyes. What? How the hell had he known what she was thinking? She didn’t remember saying that stuff out loud, but in the midst of a hallucination, anything was possible. She backed away a few more inches, forced to stop when she encountered a wall. She crouched there, wanting time to think, to make a plan.Something. She was in a room filled with dead bodies, which, now that she noticed, was already starting to smell like a slaughterhouse, and the demented pretty boy was talking about disposing of more. What the hell kind of bad acid trip was she on? Malveauxstepped toward her, reaching out a hand. “Play time’s over. I need a shower, and if I might be so ungallant, so do you. I don’t know what all that dark stuff is you’ve got smeared all over your face, but I suspectit’s makeup gone bad.Very distinctive, but not the best look for you.” His tone, which had been friendly, suddenly changed, becoming more forceful. “Take my hand and stand up, Tempest.Now.” Tempest was shocked to findherself doing exactly that. She didn’t fucking want to take his bloody hand, but she couldn’t stop herself. She had no intention of getting near him, but, as if she’d blacked out for a few seconds, she found her body jammed against his. In fact, he was stroking her ass cheeks and pressing her against his huge hard-on, and her bodywas liking it. He bent down and licked the side of her neck, then groaned. “Oh, yeah.We’ve definitely got some unfinished business, beautiful offspring.” Offspring?Jesus Christ. What was this guy into? Why wasn’t she kicking the shit out of him with her pointy boots? Why was she just standing there like a blow-up doll? “Don’t make yourself crazy, Tempest.I do happen to be africkin’ vampire , and as they say in all the old movies, ‘You’re under my power.’Bwwwaaaa!” He laughed so hard his cock rocked against Tempest’s mound, and they both groaned. “I’m going to see if there’s something convenient to wrap you in so you won’t be cold on your way to the Jag. Stand still.” Stand still, my ass.She struggled to break free of whatever he’d done to her, but it was useless. Her muscles wouldn’t move. She’d apparently had a stroke or something, and the signals weren’t getting from her brain to her limbs.As if she was just going to go somewhere with him in his car. But then she remembered her guitar and briefcase and figured it would be good to at least retrieve those before she escaped. He hadn’t actually hurt her.Yet. He seemed to move faster than she could explain. She watched him rifle through some cabinets along the wall, finding several blankets. Suddenly in front of her, he wrapped two of the heavy wool squares around her, and she started making grunting and whining noises, trying to move her lips. “What? You can talk,”Malveaux said. Her jaw resisted, aching as if it hadn’t been used in hours rather than minutes.“My jacket! I want my dad’s jacket!” He frowned. “Well, shit. Where is it?”

It felt weird that the only part of her capable of movement was her mouth. “It has to be in here somewhere because I had it on until they taped me to the chair.” She struggled to turn her head.“Hey, fuckwad . Unfreeze me, and I’ll find the jacket.” “Fuckwad?”He laughed. “Ah, Tempest.So charming. How have I managed to live without you for all these years?All right. You can move.” And she could. Shaking herself to release the strange remnants of her catatonic state, she scanned the area and located the jacket draped on the back of a chair. She pointed, “There it is.” Shuffling in that direction, she found her path blocked by the twin corpses of Brown Teeth and his clone. Brown Teeth’s eyes were wide open, his face locked forever in stunned surprise. Even though they’d been assholes, her stomach lurched as she stepped over the annihilated bodies. It wasn’t as if she were some fragile flower, always protected from the stench of death. She’d seen her share. Her band had even played in a club where a mob hit went down. With the first gun blast, the band members had all hit the floor. When the smoke cleared, the bloodbath was beyond description, but somehow this was worse. She’d had sex with the…thing…that did this. Tempest grabbed her jacket and turned to gaze at The Thing. He smiled, still managing to look like some kind of dark angel rather than a psychotic demon. “Braceyourself ,”Malveaux said, shoving the jacket into her hands. The next thing she knew, he’d swept her up into his arms, and they were outside in the frigid air. The snow had stopped falling, the wind had calmed, and stars sparkled in the cloudless sky. The full moon preened in the vast nothingness, its light reflected off the surface of the white-washed world. Tempest sucked in some air and was just about to complain that it hurt to breathe when they reached the car, and she was thrust inside. She immediately twisted her body so she could see the contents of the back seat and was relieved to find her missing possessions. How she was going to grab the guitar case and the over-stuffed briefcase in order to bolt from the car she had no idea. She shivered. It was so fucking cold that she dreaded leaving the blankets behind, but she’d do whatever she needed to. Getting away from the pretend vampire psycho was all that mattered. Malveauxtook his place in the driver’s seat, started the engine, and pulled away from the curb. She watched him for a moment, waiting for him to give some clue that he was freezing his ass off…hisnaked ass…and he was still sporting a damn erection. There had to be something seriously wrong with the guy. He had to be some kind of blood-drinking sex mutant. He laughed and tipped his head in her direction. “Well, I guess that’s as good a description of me as any.” She sure as hell knew she hadn’t said any ofthat out loud. “What are you?Some kind of psycho mind reader? How do youkeep knowing what I’m thinking? Did you get hit by lightning or something? Have you been abducted by aliens? Did you just guess I was thinking about you because you saw me looking at you?” He chuckled, slanting a glance in her direction. “I already told you. I’m a ‘frickin’ vampire.’ I drink

blood, read thoughts and emotions, and can change into other shapes. You know, like the movie guys in the black capes. Only my temper is much worse than any of them. I’m sure you noticed.” “Yeah.I noticed a lot of things.” Tempest decided she’d be safe as long as the discussion remained calm and unthreatening, as long as she didn’t piss him off. Fuck that. She’d never been known for her patience. “So, where the fuck are you taking me? Are you going to kill me, too? Maybe you’re just going to let me freeze to death.” He turned his head toward her, his eyebrows raised. He clicked the heater on, and the warm air flooded the car. “Shit, I’m sorry. Vampires aren’t overly sensitive to heat orcold, and I rarely have a human passenger. Is that better? Feel free to turn the level up or down. I really don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” “Hmm.You don’t want me to be uncomfortable? I notice you didn’t answer my other questions.” He glanced at her, his expression serious. “Where are we going? We’re going to my secret lair, the one nobody knows about.It’s a few minutes out of town. Am I going to kill you? Well, that’s a tricky question.” Having let the warmth and the illusion of safety lull her into a false sense of security,Malveaux’s words hit Tempest like a bucket of ice water. She sat up rigidly and jerked her head in his direction, her stomach knotted with anxiety. “What? What was that you said about killing me? What’s tricky?” She’d met plenty of society’s dregs in her time, but something about the insanity of this situation threatened to turn her bowels liquid.Something about him. After what she’d seen him do, she understood that she was in dangerous territory. Who knew what would set a psycho off? She eased her hand onto the door handle and estimated how fast the car was going.Malveaux didn’t seem to be in any great hurry to plow through the packed snow to reach their destination. He kept the speed at about around twenty miles per hour. She could just lift the handle and roll out. The snow would cushion her abrupt exit. She’d be a human Popsicle, but at least she’d be alive. Slowing her breathing, she darted a glance at him to find him studying her. Shit. Could the asshole really read her mind? Apparently. “What about your guitar?And your cherished briefcase? I thought those things were important to you? How will you take them with you if you just leap out of the car right now? It’s so cold out there; your gorgeous little ass might freeze right off.” He smiled, resting an arm along the back of Tempest’s seat. “But by all means, try the door. Satisfy your adorable curiosity. I’ll let you.” The combination of fear and anger made her feel wired and exhausted at the same time. It probably wouldn’t be good to launch into a feminist discussion of the “I’ll let you” thing. She doubted if bloodsucking monsters worried about being politically correct.

If the psycho found the idea of her opening the door entertaining, that meant he was up to something. He probably had it locked, or booby trapped, or some weird-ass thing. But she couldn’t not try, damn it, even if the asshole got a rush out of it. Shit. She was thinking again, and he was probably listening in. He smiled, gently nodding his head. “You have the most amazing mind, Tempest. We’re going to make such a marvelous team. And, yes, of course the door is locked.” He tapped a button on his door. “I wouldn’t want anyone to reach in and pluck out my precious cargo.” She swiveled her gaze to the window, almost expecting to see plucking hands reaching out for her. She released the breath she’d been holding and pulled the blankets more tightly aroundherself . It figured that Malveaux’s ride would have locks that only he could open. “Okay. I get it. You’re all-powerful, and I’m trapped in the car. Go back to the ‘killing me’ comment. Why is it tricky? Either you’ll kill me or you won’t.” Her eyes shifted down to his lap. “And why thefuck do you have a continuous hard-on?” He smiled, the blood spattered all over his face and clumped in his hair making him look like one of the Scottish warriors inBraveheart at the end of a losing battle. “My continuous hard-on is the reason you’re here, but not in the way you’re probably thinking. And you actually won’t be dead. Well, maybe you will be, technically, but not in the quantum sense.” Anger and Impatience wrestled down Fear and took center stage. “What thefuck are you talking about? Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you? I’m just a struggling musician, paying my dues. All I want is to sign a recording contract, have a great band, and get laid when I get the urge.Just your ordinary, everyday American gal. Why would you target me for this kind of perverted psycho-shit?” Tempest couldn’t believe it was possible for this sick whacko to still be gorgeous while covered in gore, butMalveaux was. It should be against the rules for a fiend to come in such a perfect package. He met her gaze with wide blue eyes, looking as innocent as a blood-covered demon could. “I didn’t target you. Meeting you was actually a stroke of monumental luck. I had just eliminated a couple of newborn vampires in an alley down the street and chose that bar because it was close. I didn’t know that particular establishment had entertainment, at least any kind that involved people wearing clothing. I’d just been thinking about my need to find a permanent sex partner, and there you were.” She glared at him. “Hold on, sailor. What do you mean, permanent sex partner?Permanent how?” “Permanent, as in forever.Ah, here we are.Lair, sweet lair.” Malveauxstopped the car, and Tempest finally noticed that they’d driven away from the lights of the city -- which she could see in the distance -- and were in a relatively deserted section of what appeared to be a ghost town. Of course, it probably wasn’t a real ghost town, just an abandoned area. Thanks to the illumination of the full moon, Tempest saw the outline of a huge, dilapidated factory behind a broken chain-link fence. An old sign identified the building as an auto factory, which had apparently been a casualty of one of the country’s frequent economic downturns. Tempest pointed at the empty building. “Is this where we’re going? You live in this rat-infested death trap? Holy shit, did I have the wrong idea about you. No wonder you didn’t want to go to your place to

fuck.” Malveauxlaughed. “Well, I’ve certainly spent time in worse places, but the factory isn’t our destination tonight.” He pointed across the street from the factory. “Welcome to one of the oldest churches in theMidwest . Not only is it old, but it has an illustrious history. Some enterprising souls dug secret rooms and tunnels underneath. It’s vampire heaven, so to speak.” Tempest stared at the large, boarded-up church. “Wait a minute. Haven’t you got your mythology all messed up? If you’re pretending to be a vampire, shouldn’t you be afraid of churches? Shouldn’t you burst into flames if you even stick a toe in one? And, for that matter, wouldn’t that box of crap back at the mobster’s office have sent you screaming?Holy water, crucifixes, garlic? Aren’t those usually the weapons of choice against you bloodsucking night crawlers?” Malveauxsmiled wide, the tips of his fangs waving hello. “This is so great. It never occurred to me that I’d find an offspring with a quick and clever mind, in addition to her other attributes. I can’t wait to seal our bond and have you with me forever. But to answer your questions, all that stuff is bullshit. I won’t go into specifics about how we can actually be killed -- the true death, as it’s called -- but I’ll say that it involves more than jewelry, water, and a bulbous plant. Religion became associated with vampires long ago for political reasons. We were, after all, such convenient scapegoats. Rest assured that if I feel myself about to combust, I’ll give you fair warning to get out of the way.” He laughed heartily, turned the steering wheel, and drove slowly along the side of the church. Reaching the rear, he angled the Jag into an old shed only a few feet wider than the car, and turned off the ignition. Quicker than it should have been possible,Malveaux was out of the car and standing in the tiny bit of space left between the open passenger door and the wall of the shed. He extended a hand. “Your chamberawaits,m’lady . I’ll have you all warm and writhing in no time.” He gently tugged her out of the car and scooped her up into his arms, tightly securing the blankets. Tempest’s stomach clenched. He really was taking her into some abandoned church. Maybe he was going to do some bizarre satanic ritual, or something. She started to think she wasn’t going to make it out of this situation alive, and after she came to that realization, a strange calm settled over her. She hadn’t done most of the things she’d dreamed about in her short life, but she always suspected she wouldn’t make it much past thirty. Look at Jim Morrison, Jimmy Hendrix, or Janis Joplin.Some of her father’s idols. She guessed she was in good company. Although none of them got taken out by some vampire-wannabe psycho-freak. At least she didn’t think so. But it wasn’t over until it was over. The fat lady hadn’t sung yet. Malveauxheld her easily with one hand while he closed the old wooden door to the shed with the other. As he moved quickly toward the back door of the church, Tempest spied the tire tracks in the otherwise pristine snow. The Jag had been the only car on the road for quite a while.Nothing like leaving a white map. She thought for a moment that maybe the cops would find the tracks, come investigate, and she’d be saved, but that wasn’t a likely scenario. She remembered the assholeswho’d snatched her, and, although she didn’t buy for one minute pretty boy’s Dracula routine, she didn’t want to lead anymore sadistic perverts to her location, even if she was going to be a sacrificial lamb. Maybe she could befriend the lunatic. “Hey,fuckwad .Way to advertise your lair. Don’t you have every family member in the inner city searching for your ass?”

Malveauxstopped and looked down at her. “What are you talking about?” “Some badass vampire you are. Turn around. Walk back toward the front of the church.” He turned, and even before taking more than a couple of steps, he saw the problem. “Shit. I can’t believe how distracted I’ve been. You’re right. We don’t need any more uninvited company. Thanks. You’re a good offspring already.” Back to the offspring stuff again.What a sick fuck. How could he possibly be walking around naked in this weather? That must be another sign of his mental illness: insensitivity to cold or heat. “Yeah, that’s me.Offspring of the year.Suziefrickin ’ Sunshine.” “Are you freezing? Or can you stand being out here a few more minutes?” “Why?” He sighed. “I’ll assume you’ll be okay for a few minutes. It would take longer to explain than to just do it.” He strode down the driveway out to the street, sucked in a big breath, and then blew so much air at the snow on the road and the driveway that he created a mini-blizzard. Drifts formed, covering the tire tracks. He’d created a wind storm with his own breath! He surveyed his work, then sucked in another big breath, and blew the shit out of even more of the street. Stalking back up the driveway, he veered over to the back door, sucked in another large volume of air, and blew away the tracks and his footprints. “That ought to be camouflage enough. Let’s go.” No way. She didn’t just see him do that. Even mental cases couldn’t do stuff like that, could they? Could it be possible? Could he really be a…? No, absolutely not. The church looked like it hadn’t been used for a long time. They entered the back door, immediately jagged to the right, and descended a long staircase. It was pitch black with not one pinprick of light anywhere. Itwas weird that the deviant could see to walk so fast. He’d probably counted the stairs, or something. By the time they reached the bottom, they’dzigged andzagged , opened creaking doors, and gone deep enough into the Earth to assume the location had been an old mining operation or a stairway to Hell. She feltMalveaux reach out to open the last door, and a faint light shone from the large room ahead. They stepped into the dimly illuminated expanse, and he released Tempest, standing her in the center of the dormitory-like space. “Welcome to Vampire Sanctuary, my lovely offspring. A hot shower, a hard cock, and immortality await you.” Chapter Ten

“What is this place?” Tempest asked, eyeballing the shadowy room. “It looks like some kind of World War I barracks.” “I think it’s older than that, actually. It does appear to have been used as a hideaway. There are tunnels leading to old railroad tracks and the river. I can tell you that it’s been well-used. I sense a torrent of human emotions lingering here.So much pain. Humans have so many ingenious ways to torture each other. We vampires are angels of mercy, comparatively speaking.” Malveauxwalked over to a huge fireplace roughly carved out of the main wall and struck a match. He knelt, touching the flame to a pile of kindling and logs, and watched the fire catch. Tempest smirked. “So, now you’re a vampire and a ghost buster. Are you saying you’re psychic, or you’re one of those woo-woo ‘I talk to dead people’ guys?” Malveauxstood and locked eyes with her. “You can’t fool me, you know. Your thoughts give you away. You’ve got the false bravado down pat, but it won’t save you. It won’t keep me from doing what I intend to do.” He inched toward her, the movement quietly malevolent. Tempest clutched the blankets tighter around her body, a slight tremble in her hands. She cleared her throat. “Just exactly what do you intend to do?” He edged closer, almost touching her. “I’ll make this very clear for you. Iama vampire . In fact, I’m a 200-year-old vampire. The one who made me -- my sire -- had some unique characteristics in addition to being a nightwalker. During his mortal years, he was obsessed with sex. I guess he’d be called a sex addict today. After he was turned against his will by one of his lovers, his carnal needs became entwined with his vampirism. When he brought me over, he transferred his sexual peculiarities to me along with everything else.” He looked down at his relentless erection. “My continuous hard-on is due to the fact that it is my time to bind someone to me to serve my sexual needs, someone who will offer her blood and take mine. Someone I will birth into a new life…my offspring.You.” He met her eyes again. “If I don’t, I’ll go mad, and I have no intention of going mad.” Her breathing quickened as she backed up.“You selfish bastard. Are you saying you’re really going to turn me into a vampire?” Tempest’s voice cracked at the end of her question. He nodded, advancing on her. “Yes. I’ve already begun the process. When we were so rudely interrupted at the hotel, you had just started to lick the blood from a cut I made in my skin. We’re already psychically connected. It’s good that you finally believe me. Your denial was becoming tedious.” She raised her chin, challenging him. “I don’t remember licking any blood. You’re full of shit. This can’t be happening! There’s no such fucking thing as a vampire!” Snake-quick,Malveaux’s hands grasped the sides of her head, holding tight while he caught her gaze. He transmitted memory pictures directly to her brain. He showed her their time together in the hotel, his encounter with the newborn vampires he’d extinguished in the alley, a particularly vivid blood ritual performed by a vampire coven, his first human kill, and the night he was transformed against his will.

In any other circumstances, he might have shared the memories slowly, giving the recipient time to integrate the flood of data. Most minds couldn’t take that much stimulation all at once, but Tempest had shown she possessed an unusual psyche. At least he hoped she did. Regardless, he’d simply wasted too much time already. When he released her head and took a step back, she stared at him, mouth and eyes stretched wide. After a few seconds, she listed from side to side,then crashed to the floor like a harvested redwood. “Shit!”Malveaux knelt down next to her, studying her glassy eyes. In the big picture, it really shouldn’t make much difference if he’d literally blown her mind with his mental film festival. She could still service his sexual needs. Her blood would still taste as sweet. But for some reason he was upset by this turn of events. He’d grown accustomed to her clever repartee and her gutter mouth. He’d miss her sarcasm and witty disrespect. Never in a million years would he have expected to become fond of the gorgeous musician.Or of anyone. Almost afraid of what he’d find, he tuned into Tempest’s mind, seeking hints of any cognitive activity. Instead of the dense silence he expected after having her circuits fried, her consciousness churned with chaotic images, like a movie on fast forward. He placed his hands on her temples and willed the frantic energy in her brain to slow. When he sensed that it had, he took his hands away and watched her face. She blinked watery eyes and closed her mouth. “Tempest?Are you in there?” Her lips were so dry she had to run her tongue over them a couple of times before she couldspeak, her voice weak. “What the fuck did you do to me?” Malveauxthrew back his head and laughed. Relief and happiness washed through him. Damned if he wasn’t pleased. “I shared some of my memories with you. I’m glad they didn’t blow your fuses.” “Are you telling me that you actually lived the grotesque things you shoved into my head? You know those bloodsucking creatures? You were raped as well as turned into a vampire?” “Unfortunately, yes. Those memories are only the tip of a bloody iceberg. I just wanted to convince you that there are such things as vampires, and I am one. And after tonight, you’ll be one, too.” Tempestraised up on her elbows, chin quivering, vulnerability and sadness in her eyes. “But I don’t want to be a vampire. I don’t want to drink anybody’s blood. I don’t want to sleep in a coffin. I want to play music. I want a recording deal. I have plans for my life. You have no right to swoop in and take it all away.” One fat tear rolled down her cheek. He stared at her, brushed his finger through the tear, and lifted the salty liquid to his mouth. Her reaction surprised him. She’d never expressed any emotional pain in front of him before. His memory slam must have upset her brain chemistry and deepened her exhaustion. Her sadness made his heart -- or what used to be his heart -- ache. He hadn’t experienced a feeling like that since he was turned. What the hell had happened to The Assassin to make him care about what some petty human thought? Were these feelings part of his impending madness? He’d better get his shit together and do what needed to be done.

Adding some extra gruffness to his voice, he said, “Well, whether I have a right or not, it’s going to happen.” He stood and held out a hand. “Come on. We both still need a shower. This place has all the amenities, albeit minimal.” He pointed toward a doorway at the back of the large room. “The bathroom is in there. The last time I was here, the plumbing worked, and the water was sufficiently hot. Someone even put in some rudimentary wiring for electricity, so the lights are functional.” Clearly, there was no benefit to sentimentality. He decided to use mind control on Tempest, at least as much as her strong will would allow, so that the bonding experience could be as pleasant as possible for her. Locking eyes, he sent a silent mental command for her to follow his instructions. Her eyes glazed, and her face went slack. He didn’t want to override her personality, just make sure she did what he wanted. “Give me your hand, Tempest.” She did, and he pulled her up from the floor, leaving the blankets and her jacket in a pile. The blazing fire in the hearth had warmed the room to a comfortable level. “Here.” He pointed to one of the narrow beds along the wall. “Sit down on the edge and let me take those boots off.” She sat, watching him with empty eyes. He knelt, unzipped the cheap black leather, and pulled the boots from her feet. She gasped, deep frown lines creasing the skin between her eyebrows. His nostrils twitched as the smell of blood wafted from the open sores on her toes. The poor-fitting boots had rubbed against her skin, causing oozing blisters and bloody wounds. She must have been in pain, but hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t even given it a thought, or he’d have picked it up. What a courageous little soul she was. “Tempest, why didn’t you say anything about the pain in your feet?You could have removed the boots long ago.” She looked up at him, emotionless, her frown erased. “I had a lot more on my mind than footwear. In the face of impending death, sore feet didn’t seem very important. Who knew what kind of shit I’d have to walk through? And besides, they’d gone numb.” He scooped her limp, unresisting form up into his arms and headed toward the bathroom. How odd it was that he worried about sores on the feisty human’s feet and whether the water in the shower would cause her more pain. He couldn’t remember ever caring about the welfare of others. His own human childhood had been so horrible, so inescapable, all his compassion had died. No one had ever spared a thought about his wellbeing. Even before he became a vampire, as a human assassin he’d killed scores of people without a qualm. Why was he suddenly having these unwanted feelings? Entering the small room, he looked for somewhere to put Tempest while he took care of the shower details. Since there was no lid on the toilet, he had to resort to leaning her against the wall. She stood silent, watching him. He’d spent quite a lot of time in this particular lair and had planned ahead. Fully expecting he’d bring human company to visit at some point, he’d stocked up on supplies. Reaching into a large box perched on top of a wobbly table in the corner, he pulled out a toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, shampoo, skin cream, and a couple of thick towels. Then remembering that his own toothbrush was in his car, he pulled out another one for himself. He didn’t know if all vampires paid

attention to dental hygiene, but he couldn’t imagine going around with blood breath or questionable chunks stuck between his fangs. But blood breath was the least of his concerns at the moment. He was still wearing the residue from his last meal at the mob boss’s headquarters, and the smell was so bad he could barely stand himself. His long hair fell in gummy clumps. The shower consisted of one skinny, open stall with an ancient-looking, rusty nozzle. He turned on the water, shaking his head at the thin, pitiful steam that sprayed out. Recalling the water had been more forceful the last time he’d used it, he pounded the pipe a couple of times with his fist, releasing a small explosion of discolored liquid. After a few seconds, the water cleared, and he adjusted the temperature. “Not exactly the luxurious accommodations I would have preferred for you, but at least you’ll be warm and clean.” Still worrying about the effect of the water on the sores on her feet, he said, “What do you think? Would you rather stick one foot in at a time and have the pain in smaller increments, or do you want to just step in and get it over with?” She pushed away from the wall toward the shower. “Let’s get it the fuck over with.” Pausing just long enough to stick her hand in the stream, she thrust herself into the stall. When the water hit the open sores, she gasped.Malveaux , who’d quietly slipped in behind her, instinctively lifted her several inches above the floor. “What did you do that for? How am I supposed to get used to the pain if you don’t let me feel it?” He had no idea why he’d done that. It had just been an automatic reflex. He hadn’t wanted her to suffer. Shit. What was going on with him? He’d totally forgotten that he could just give her a suggestion that she wouldn’t feel the pain. Was he going to forget he was a blood drinker next? Maybe he was further along the path to madness than he realized. Lowering her slowly, he sent her the pain-free mental suggestion. Tempest rotated in the hot water, saturatingherself , and then she grabbed the closest bar of soap, worked it between her hands, and lathered her face. She soaped the rest of her body, rinsed, and picked up the shampoo bottle. Within minutes her long hair was clean and conditioned.Malveaux watched her shower ritual with amused curiosity. She washed her body as he’d expect: systematically, thoroughly, with no wasted motion. She turned to him, “Let me switch places with you, Dracula. You really stink.” Malveauxlaughed and took her place under the water. “Remind me to teach you the proper attitude for a thrall. Perhaps I should have you call me Master.” “Yeah, well, good luck with that.” He washed his body and hair with almost as much efficiency as Tempest had hers. When he finished, he turned to see why she was so quiet and was shocked to see how young she appeared without all the makeup. Her dark eyes were large in her pale face. He felt a momentary twinge about his plans for her. He even had a fleeting thought about finding another female to turn before he came back to his senses and remembered himself. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t afraid of anything, but if his curse was going to turn him into a simpering, emotional idiot, he found that notion frightening.

He needed to get the ball rolling. “You look cold. Get back under the hot water for a minute.” She stepped around him, moving under the hot water. She let the stream run over her body for several minutes, little involuntary moans validating the pleasureMalveaux easily sensed. The moans sang a special song to his rigid cock, and without even being aware of what he was doing, he inched forward and rubbed his hard thickness along the curve of Tempest’s ass. She pushed against him ever so slightly, giving an unconscious vote of approval to his activity. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tighter against his cock while using his other hand to tip the water nozzle down to keep them out of the most forceful part of the shower stream. Selecting a bottle of liquid bath gel from the plastic tray hanging from the shower head, he flipped open the top and poured a generous portion into his hand. A spicy aroma filled the air. He rubbed his palms together, divided the gel, and then cupped Tempest’s breasts. As he spread the slick liquid in slow circles around her soft skin, her nipples hardened. She sighed and rested her head againstMalveaux’s chest. “I’m already clean. Why are you putting more soap on me?” “This isn’t for cleaning. This is for touching.” She was shorter without her stiletto heels, and he enjoyed the sensation of the top of her head fitting under his chin. “Does that feel good?”Malveaux whispered. “Do you like when I touch you?” His cock brushed against her anus. “Good doesn’t begin to cover it. I love when you touch me… Uh, I mean, I don’t really have any choice, do I?” An unusual, warm sensation tingled through his body. He was absurdly pleased that she’d said she loved when he touched her, and he was impressed again by the strength of her mind. He hadn’t ever encountered a human who could fight against his mind control as Tempest did. She shouldn’t have been able to amend her statement as she had. Even among older vampires,Malveaux was powerful. He gently twirled her to face him and worked his hands down her body, pausing to add more gel from the bottle. As he lathered the dark hair covering her mound, she groaned loudly, closed her eyes, and shifted so her legs opened a few more inches. Using one finger, he massaged the gel along her clit, waiting for her body to tell him when he’d reached her pleasure spot. Before he could begin to sense the subtle somatic cues, Tempest thought,Oooh, right there, and he replaced his finger with his cock. As he angled his erection in and out of her pussy lips, she began rocking her hips, her breathing fast and shallow as she built toward peak. Listening to her pant and moan droveMalveaux to the brink. He lifted Tempest by her ass and turned, his back blocking the water as he pressed her against the wall of the shower stall. He sent a mental command for her to wrap her legs around his hips, and he thrust himself into her in one smooth motion. She clutched his shoulders and screamed “Yes!” as he pounded into her hot slit. His desire reached fever pitch, and he shifted his mouth to her neck, broke the skin with the sharp points of the fangs he’d allowed to descend, and sucked the blood from her pulsing vein. Tempest gasped, and her body stiffened.Malveaux soothed her with a distracting suggestion.

Almost out of his mind from the taste of her crimson gift, he pumped frantically, enjoying the body rushes provoked by the ingestion of her blood. Satiated, he lifted his head from the small wounds, laved his tongue over them to stop the bleeding, and threw back his head with passionate abandon. The tension finally reached critical mass, and together Tempest andMalveaux exploded in pleasure, both groaning and clinging to each other. As the wave subsided, Tempest relaxed her grip on his shoulders, opened her eyes, and met his. He gazed into the dark brown depths of her eyes and felt as if he were standing on the edge of an abyss, a dangerous black hole filled with forbidden emotions and needs. It was a place he never knew existed, at least not for him. Tenderly, he brought his lips to hers, teasing his tongue into her mouth. She opened for him and danced her tongue around his. He deepened the kiss, slowing the movement of his lips, and held her tighter. His cock went rigid again inside her, and he groaned as she tightened her muscles, holding him like a hot, wet hand. The kiss became more intense, more intimate. He began moving his cock inside her warmth in long, slow strokes, locking his mouth on hers. It was the first time he’d experienced a kiss more erotic than fucking. As they climbed toward orgasm, his thrusts became deeper, faster, until they each groaned their release. Finally breaking the kiss,Malveaux used one hand to turn off the water. “I think we’re water-logged enough. Let’s go find a bed.” He braced her ass and walked them out of the shower stall. He grabbed a towel, his half-erect cock still nestled inside Tempest’s vagina, her legs still wrapped around his hips. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, slowly released it, and then smiled. “You really are onehelluva lover, Dracula. I’mkinda sorry you’re an undead psycho fiend because we could’ve had some fun together.” He laughed. “We will have some fun together, my sweet offspring. After tonight, our lives will change forever. But it is possible that you could still have your musical career. It’s perfect for a vampire, since you would work at night. In fact, we might relocate to a better place for a musician to find success, and I can be your manager. After all, humans can’t resist me. Imagine the deals I could negotiate for you.” She met his eyes, expression serious. “See? I knew it. I can read between the lines. You won’t really turn me into a bloodsucker. You like me too much. You don’t want to hurt me.” He laughed, but was troubled by her words. They held a ring of truth. “Wishful thinking, my dear.You definitely have the wrong idea about me. I’m a heartless killer who never had a warm thought about anyone. It simply isn’t part of my programming. You’re merely support personnel.Granted, beautiful and amusing, but of no real consequence.” She searched his eyes, then quirked an eyebrow.“Yeah, sure.Whatever you say. I’m a goodbullshitter , too, and it takes one to know one.” It suddenly occurred to him that she might be picking up some of his thoughts. Maybe the slight sharing of blood had opened the gates both ways. How else could she know about his momentary weakness?

He’d have to complete the ritual before he had any more lapses of reason. They reached a nearby bed, and he used the towel to blot the water from the easily-reachable parts of their bodies. He threw the wet cloth aside, lowered them onto the thin mattress, and then kissed her. Abruptly she turned her head and pushed at his chest. “Hey, wait! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. We’ve had sex a bunch of times without any protection. You must have zapped me with vampire voodoo because I’ve never forgotten to use a rubber. Can vampires transmit diseases? Can you get me pregnant? Am I even more screwed than I thought?” He lifted his head and grinned. “No. No.Definitely yes. I’d say you’ve been thoroughly screwed.” “Do all vampires have as big an ego as you do?” “No. I’m unique. Let me give you a demonstration.” He found her lips again and began pumping his erection into her willing wetness. She groaned and lifted her legs higher to take him deeper. She contracted her vaginal muscles, causing him to spasm inside her. He loved the feel of her tight pussy and her firm, curvaceous body. She was everything he could have asked for and more. Sensing her approaching orgasm, he lifted his mouth from hers and gazed into her eyes. “I’m not going to mute your awareness this time as I take your blood. I’ll erase the pain, but you’ll feel everything else clearly. I want you to experience me inside you in every way. After I take your blood, I’ll give you mine.” Thrusting vigorously, he lowered his mouth to her neck and pierced the vein. Tempest gasped, pushed at his chest and yelled, “No! Please don’t do this!” She started sobbing, her efforts to dislodge him useless. Despite her resistance, her body continued to respond to his pounding cock and slipped over the edge. She surrendered into her body’s release, and relaxed her arms, exhausted, no longer able to fight. He followed, groaning with his own orgasm, and then lifted his mouth from her bleeding neck. Pointedly ignoring her, he raised his upper body, used his sharp fingernail to make a cut above his nipple, and grasped the back of her neck to guide her mouth toward the blood flowing from the small wound. “Drink.”He knew she couldn’t refuse a direct command. She drew her tongue across the dripping lines of blood as he silently repeated the first half of the magical words necessary to seal the bond. She turned her head away. “Please don’t. I don’t want to be a vampire. Don’t do this.” Her sobs forced him to meet her tear-filled eyes, and he felt an overwhelming pain. The memory of the night he was captured, raped, and forced to give up his human life came back to him like a waking nightmare. He dropped Tempest’s head and stared down at her. Fuck it. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be what his sire was, even if it meant his own destruction. He’d find someone else. Either a willing participant or

someone so foul that she -- or he -- deserved to be the servant of the damned. He climbed off Tempest and stood looking down at her as she cried, one arm thrown over her eyes. Something triggered his awareness, and he swiveled in time to see a dozen vampires transforming from mist to male forms. Quadestepped forward, smiling.“Ah,Malveaux . What a pleasure it is to finally meet you, although I’m sure the pleasure is all mine.” “What do you want?”Malveaux growled. “Why, I want you dead, of course, and I’ll take your little human plaything as a trophy of war.” He signaled his undead companions. “Kill him. Take the girl.” Tempest yelled and kicked her legs, fighting hard as two of the vampires grabbed her and wrapped her in the blanket from the bed.Malveaux leaped at her captors, only managing to pull at the arms of one of the bloodsuckers holding her before a wooden spear pierced the center of his chest, and he fell, gasping. Chapter Eleven

“Malveaux!”Tempest screamed as she saw him crumple to the floor. She goggled at the wooden shaft protruding from his chest and watched the blood ooze from the edges of the wound. He lay motionless, still as death, his skin a sickening gray. Quadestood overMalveaux , shaking his head. “And I thought The Assassin would be a worthy opponent. Someone I could kill with pride. What a disappointment. Ah, well.” He turned his pale eyes toward Tempest, who still struggled in the arms of a huge, foul-smelling male. “I hope at least he was a good fuck and that he went out with a bang.” He laughed, flashing fangs. He obviously found his bad joke hilarious. Tempest shuddered. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the man in charge was dangerous. He looked like a larger, heavier Billy Idol, his light blond hair standing out in spikes around his head, his upper lip in a permanent sneer. No British accent, though.Closer toBoston , but with something else thrown in. As tempting as it was to dismiss him because of his caricatured appearance, she knew it would be a mistake. Something crazy and dark gazed out of those cloudy eyes. He sidled over to Tempest, lifted one side of the blanket covering her, and grabbed her breast. “Hey, asshole!Let go!” An evil grin quirked his lips.“I look forward to finding out what The Assassin saw in you, why he became so distracted around you.” He bent down, licked her nipple, then laughed as she flailed, pushing him away. “Excellent!A wild bitch.” He cupped himself. “I can’t wait.” “Should we cut his head off, Master?” a tall, skeletal vampire asked, pointing toMalveaux .

QuadestudiedMalveaux , his head tilting from side to side. “I suppose we should. Just to put him out of his misery. But then again, his death is so much more hideous this way, and I do enjoy a horrible, lingering end for my enemies.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Tempest demanded. Quadeswiveled his gaze back to Tempest. “While the spear remains in his heart, he’ll be lightly conscious, suffering, until he dies of thirst. I hear going without blood for weeks is, to say the least, painful.” He paused, his wicked grin reappearing. “Why don’t we let you choose? What’ll it be, my dear?A quick decapitation or a slow, torturous drying out?” Tempest shifted her eyes toMalveaux sprawled on the floor, his gorgeous face lifeless as a corpse. She didn’t know what the punk rocker was talking about. It was obviousMalveaux was dead. Nothing alive could be that color, but when it came toMalveaux , what didalive mean? She believed he was a vampire, but she didn’t understand how he could still be conscious while impaled. Her chest felt so tight she could hardly breathe. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she had to press her lips tightly together to forestall her chin’s quivering. She had a powerful sense ofdéjà vu , remembering the bad feelings she’d experienced less than twenty-four hours earlier when she’d thoughtMalveaux dead. Ever since he’d entered the bar, her life had been shit, but why was she so sad? Why did seeing him like that hurt so much? One thing was certain. She fucking well wasn’t going to help the vampire assholes kill him. Quadepushed his face close to hers.“Why so quiet, little human? Vampire got your tongue?” He noticed the tears gathering in her eyes. “What’s this?Tears?For your vampire captor? Is it possible you have feelings for the rotting carcass?” He walked over and kickedMalveaux in the ribs. Tempest gasped, struggling to break free of Frankenstein’s grasp, “You fucking asshole. Leave him alone.” She managed to extricate an elbow and slammed it hard into the tender area at the base of the big monster’s throat. She didn’t know if the trick would work on vampires as it did on humans, but she was beyond logical thought. Apparently, it did work the same because the big guy dropped her to the floor as he clutched his neck, gagging. She rose up from the blanket like a nude, avenging warrior goddess, her hands fisted and her eyes narrowed. Quadebarely had time to give her a surprised look before she leaped through the air, executing one of her favorite martial arts moves, and thrust her feet into the center of his chest, sending him flying backwards into the wall. She figured he wouldn’t be hurt, but he’d be pissed. She was right. The circus of the fanged surrounded her.Quade’s minions formed a growling, wild-eyed, canine-exposed circle,their hands pulling at her.“Stop!”Quade commanded. “She’s mine.”

He seemed to will himself to become vertical, then brushed off his studded leather pants and smiled. In the split second he hesitated before sauntering to where Tempest stood, she clearly heard a whisper in her mind.Offspring. She froze, listening.You must pull the spear from my chest. I will confuse them for a few seconds. That’s when you must act. I will come and find you. What? She stared down atMalveaux , then atQuade and his slaves. None of them gave any indication that they’d heard anything. Sliding her gaze back toMalveaux , she could’ve sworn she’d seen his eyelids flutter. Then everything went crazy. All the vampire thralls swarmed towardQuade , arms out, hands grasping, just like a scene inNight of the Living Dead . For the second time, the Master flashed a surprised expression as he backed up, attempting to evade his now-attacking troops. Tempest eased over toMalveaux , knelt, and grabbed the spear lodged in his heart. “Fuck,Malveaux . I can’t just rip this thing out of your chest. You’ll bleed to death or something.” He gave an almost-imperceptible nod, and she heard,Youmust.Quickly. Well, it was his funeral. She wrapped her hands around the shaft and pulled. Nothing happened. The sucker wasin there. She let go, shook her hands, then grabbed on again. This time she pushed with her legs as well as her arms, lifting herself as she felt the spear begin to give. As it loosened, it made horrible, flesh-tearing, organ-rending sounds. She stuck her tongue out. “Yuck. That’s the grossest thing I’ve ever heard. For sure you’re dead now.” She tugged one last time, and the wood came free. “Get off me, you bloodsucking morons!”Quade bellowed. “I’ll rip your hearts out for this! Grab the girl!” Just as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and noticed the undead herd turning back in her direction,Malveaux’s body vanished, and a silvery mist floated out of the room.I’ll find you, she heard. A scream that gave new meaning to the word “rage” sliced the air. The Master wasn’t happy. The spear was wrenched from her hand, and one ofQuade’s lackeys lifted her off her feet once again. “I’ve got her, Master. Should I kill her?” Quadesnarled. “No, you fool. That will be my pleasure when the time is right. You should be concerned about your own neck.”Quade leaned close, locked eyes with Tempest, and everything went dark. ***** As abruptly as it had been pulled from under Tempest’s metaphorical feet, the consciousness rug returned. Maybe it was because of the blood-curdling ululations slamming her ears from all directions. Or perhaps it was becauseQuade was in the process of cuffing her limbs to a wooden “X” fastened to the wall of a bona fide torture chamber. She was still naked.And cold.

The room was dim, the only illumination flickering from a single, weak light bulb swinging at the end of its electrical cord. She blinked to clear her vision and also because she couldn’t believe her eyes. Jesus. What the hell? The floor was lined with bloody bodies.Wailing, crying, howling,staked bodies. It took a moment to focus before she recognized the vampires who’d fallen under the spell ofMalveaux’s suggestion to attack Quade . That explained the smell in the room. Holy shit.If that was the punishment he gave to his own team, she didn’t want to think about her likely fate. Quadefinished securing her to the wood and stood, smiling. “How do you like my vampire exhibit, little human? I’ve pinned them like insects. They needed to be punished for turning against me. It doesn’t matterwhy they acted as they did. In the future, I suspect they’ll fight the compulsion more thoroughly. They won’t get another chance to fuck up.” He turned to his screeching minions and chuckled.“Ah, music to my ears. Pain adds so many interesting layers to the vocal repertoire, don’t you agree? Young vampires are so tender.” He returned his icy gaze to Tempest and then slid his finger across her breasts. “There are so many ways to cause misery. I have a special one in mind for you. The only question is whether I indulge myself before your boyfriend makes his futile attempt to retrieve you, or do I wait until the matter is disposed of?” He sighed, caught her nipple between his thumb and first finger and twisted hard. The pain caused her to gasp and her eyes to water. She shifted her body back and forth in the few inches allowed by the restraints and tried to lower her shoulder to knock his hand away. No luck. It felt like he’d grabbed her nipple with pliers. When her knees bailed and she sagged from the pain, he let go. She heard a low growl and then he grabbed her, his teeth penetrating her neck. He sucked hard on the vein, his erection pressed against her stomach. After satisfying one of his needs, he lifted his head. “I’ve decided to polluteMalveaux’s supply, to take away his prize.” He tore open the front of his shirt, traced a line on his white flesh with his fingernail, and cut the skin over his heart. Trails of blood raced down his stomach. He caught her eyes, fisted a hand in her hair, and whispered, “Drink, little human, and become mine.” It didn’t matter that she tried not to taste his blood or that she was screaming inside. He’d done some vampire shit to her, and she couldn’t stop herself. She sucked the blood from his skin, constantly fighting to turn her head.“Don’t fuck with me, gorgeous, or at least not yet.” He forced her face into his chest, and she swallowed the warm blood flowing from the wound. He released her. “That’s better. You’re on your way now. Welcome aboard. I guess I should’ve waited until my guest of honor arrived, but I couldn’t resist giving you a taste of your future. You can justhang for a while, as the humans say, and I’ll go torture my devoted followers.” He laughed as he strutted toward the suffering vampires. The demonic cacophony surged as he approached them. Her nipple radiated pain. Her neck hurt, but it took second place in the misery contest. Even though the room was cold, her body had broken out in sweat. Her breast was already starting to bruise. She’d

never experienced anything that agonizing in her life. Not even the time on stage when she’d had too many beers, tried to jump on top of her stack of amplifiers, and landed on some people on the dance floor, dislocating her back. She’d thought that was the worst that could happen. Dream on. Welcome to vampire hell. Hanging limp from the shackles which held her wrists, she became aware of the straining muscles in her arms and shoulders. She licked her dry lips and forced her knees to hold her weight. She wondered what time it was. Didn’t these foul, undead denizens of the night need to hunker down in their coffins -- or crawl back into a nightmare -- before the sun came up? WasQuade going to leave her tethered to the wall all day? Or would he just kill her and get it over with? Her sick sense of humor emerged long enough for her to compare the benefits of death versus pissing on herself. Quadecrept between the vampire bodies, bending to lick blood from each stake-filled wound. As she became mesmerized by watching the disgusting spectacle on the floor, she relaxed her arms. She felt the slack in her shackles a couple of heartbeats before she recognized what it meant. Obviously, the cuffs were made for someone with larger bones. Excited, she concentrated on one wrist, twisting it as she gently pulled. Being sweaty helped, but she was only able to gain a couple of inches before the cuff caught on the widest part of her hand. Darting glances toward the suck-fest to make sureQuade was still otherwiseoccupied, she tried again with the same result. Frustrated, she shut her eyes. She hated not being in control.Hated being at anyone’s mercy. She refused to cave, but what the hell could she do? She wished she could morph into fog asMalveaux had. A flash of memory tapped her on the shoulder. The lack of sleep must have fried her brain cells, because she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten her lesson in mind over matter. Her martial arts instructor had invited a “mentalist” to their class to introduce the idea that the outer world was an illusion -- energy -- that could be manipulated by the mind. The guy had stuck himself with needles, knives, even swords without spilling a drop of blood. He’d done a Houdini and gotten himself out of a straight jacket in less time than she would have spent taking off her dad’s jacket. Damn.Her dad’s jacket. She’d figure out a way to get that back, no matter what. The straight-jacket guy said it was a matter of stilling the mind -- going into a trance -- and imagining the desired outcome. He said he sometimes “saw” his limbs boneless, so they could do “impossible” things. She knew there was truth to the mind thing because she often went into a light trance while playing her guitar and was able to do things with the strings that fingers weren’t supposed to be able to do. She seemed to have a knack for the mind power stuff. Not to mention all the sexual positions she’d contorted her body into. Sneaking a peek atQuade to reassure herself that he wasn’t watching her, she relaxed her body. Closing her eyes again, she took some deep breaths, as the mentalist guy had suggested. It was easy for her to use her potent imagination to dissolve the bones in her right wrist and hand. She envisioned her hand sliding easily and silently out of the cuff. She pulled her arm slowly and “saw” the hand ease through the shackle. Opening an eyelid to check, she

was overjoyed to find that the hand actuallywas free of the cuff. As much as she hated to do it, she needed to push her hand back through the grip. IfQuade saw what she’d been able to do with his equipment, he’d probably think of something worse for her. The throbbing of her nipple reminded her of what he was capable. She imagined the process in reverse and slid her hand back into captivity. Okay. It worked. She’d need to test out the ankle cuffs. Tempest hoped those restraints had also been created to hold bigger people, but feet were larger than hands. Luckily, she had long, skinny ones. Shit. If she could force her feet into all the stiletto-heeled shoes she wore, she could find a way out of this medieval sex toy. Quadewas still lost in his blood orgy, so she closed her eyes again and focused on imagining her foot free of the cold circle. She tugged, and her foot snagged at the heel. Taking more deep breaths, she relaxed, remembering a time on stage when she’d been entranced by the music. Imagining her foot flaccid like a noodle, she pulled again, and this time her foot slid free. She was startled by the sound ofQuade’s voice close. Without mental preparation, she jammed her foot back into the cuff. It hurt like hell. She held her breath until the wave of pain subsided. He ambled into her personal space and enveloped her in blood breath, appearing somewhat dazed. His pale eyeballs looked weirder than usual. Did drinking blood make him high? “I hope you’re suitably uncomfortable. It shouldn’t be much longer now. The loser formerly known as The Assassin should be plotting your rescue as we speak. I need to go up to the penthouse to take care of some business, but I’ll be back to roll out the red carpet before you even miss me. Red carpet, get it?Blood?” He doubled over laughing, then straightened and vanished. Tempest watched a cloud of fog seep through a crack in the ceiling. She frowned. That was too convenient. Was it a trap? DidQuade somehow know that she’d been able to slip out of his restraints? Or was he that over-confident? Did she really have any choice? Breathing deeply, she envisioned herself on stage, blissfully playing her guitar. Recognizing the familiar trance state, she focused her imagination on one limb at a time. Her hands came out easily and, after a couple of tries, her feet followed. She almost fell on her face before she remembered to stop imagining her feet as noodles. The staked vampires were all still whimpering and moaning, unable to rise. She probably only had a couple of minutes to find a way out ofQuade’s insane asylum. Running across the room to the only set of stairs, she scrambled up and turned the knob on the door. Locked! She pulled on the handle, hoping it might just be stuck, but it didn’t budge. Turning, she scanned the area for any other escape route and saw nothing. She’d just swiveled and grabbed the door knob again when the door opened and she was pushed back, almost stumbling down the stairs. A smiling head appeared. “It took you long enough,”Malveaux said. Chapter Twelve

Malveaux’shand darted out to catch Tempest as she teetered on the stairs. The shocked expression on her face -- not to mention her sensuouslydisplayed, magnificently naked body -- prompted a wide smile to curve his lips and triggered a twitch in his ever-ready cock. She yanked her arm out of his grip. “Let go of me,fuckwad ! What are you smiling about?” He was irrationally happy to see the gorgeous musician. Much more jazzed than he had any business being. Her thoughts and emotions were transparent; she’d been worried about him and was relieved he’d returned. Tempest stared at him for a few seconds, her eyes narrowing as anger clouded her features. “Were you just waiting out there, pretty boy? Letting me be pawed, sucked on, and tortured for your amusement? Did you get your rocks off? ” He lowered the wattage on his smile and shook his head. “Actually, I just arrived. I had to go fetch the Jag and grab a quick snack to speed the healing.” He stroked his hand over the perfect wound-free chest visible through his unbuttoned shirt. “I also had to prepare our resting place for the day. We’d better get moving.” He paused mid-sentence, listening. “Ah, yes. Our host will return shortly. I’d love to rip his heart out now, but there are only a couple hours of darkness left, and I have other plans. His true death can wait one more night. Come.” “Hey! Put me down! I’m capable of getting myself out of here!” Tempest shouted when he scooped her up into his arms. Walking briskly up another set of stairs and out the back door,Malveaux chuckled as he tightened his grip on her struggling form. Her resistance was half-hearted, but he understood the wild vixen well enough by then to know she’d always go down fighting. “Yes, yes. I know. Feminism and all that, but regardless of gender, you’re human, which is like comparing a Model-T to a rocket. I am, of course, the rocket.” As if to prove his point, he propelled them down a snow-filled alley so fast his feet barely touched the ground. “It’s fucking freezing out here. I’m tired of having my naked ass hanging out forall the world to see. I noticeyou have clothes on. Where are…” Malveauxopened the door and unceremoniously deposited her into the Jag. The rest of her words melted as she sank into the warmth blasting from the heater. “Ahhhhhh,” Tempest moaned. He took the driver’s seat. “See? What would you do without me?” he teased. She shifted her gaze, studying him. “I look forward to finding out.” He turned his head and smiled. “I don’t believe you. You forget that I’m the all-knowing mind reader.”

She snorted.“Up yours, fang. And what kind of idiot leaves a fancy car running in an alley in the inner city? Were you just begging for it to be stolen?” “Nobody can steal my car. Another one of my undead abilities is rather like spell-casting, but much more primitive. I can simply surround the car with an aura of dread, the same kind of creepy feeling humans experience when walking through a graveyard at night. It’s an excellent repellant. Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into the back seat, grabbed something, and thrust it into Tempest’s lap. “Here. I’m sure you were missing this.” She held up her father’s jacket, slipped it on and then zipped it up. Snuggling into the worn-out garment, she mumbled, “Thank you.” “It was the least I could do.” “You got that right,” she snarled. “You obviously went back to the church. Is that where we’re going now?” “No. We have to improvise.Any port in a storm, as they say. I collected everything useable from the church. We can get more supplies tomorrow. It’s a good thing the nights are so long this time of year. I did make one stop for your benefit, though.” He reached into the back seat again and pulled out a bag containing a couple of sweat pants, several sweatshirts, some socks, and a pair of running shoes. She poked through the stash on her lap, recognizing the name of the discount store on the labels. “You shopped?” “Let’s just say I procured. They’re probably not the perfect size for you, but at least they’ll keep you warm.” “That’s great. Thanks. I don’t suppose you cruised any junk food places as well? My stomach is growling like a pissed-off lion.” She scrambled into her new clothes as she talked. He turned toward her, frowning.“Food? Food! I have to admit I didn’t even give it a thought. It’s been so very long since I ate anything…solid. Let’s find a place now. There should be something open twenty-four hours, right?” They drove in silence for a few minutes, until Tempest erupted into sound and motion as she pointed to a familiar drive-through burger place. “Yes! Pull in, pull in! Burgers from heaven, come to me!I could eat a frickin ’ vampire!” Malveauxsmiled at her antics and jumped through the necessary hoops to collect the odoriferous food. He’d forgotten how unpleasant human food smelled. He would’ve preferred to sink his fangs into the neck of the pimply boy hanging out of the delivery window. Tempest ordered a lot of food, and she made fast work of ripping through the first paper to get to the prize. She wolfed down several big bites, moaning with pleasure, and then sat back, ecstatic. She’d just jammed a handful of French fries into her mouth when she gasped, expelled the fries, and groaned.“Stop! Stop the car! I’mgonna hurl!” “Hurl? What’s hurl?” But the gagging sounds provided a clear definition, and he pulled the car to the side

of the road. She opened her door, leaned out, and lost the contents of her stomach. As she sat back in the seat, he could see sweat glistening on her face. Her heartpounded, her breathing shallow. “Wow. What the fuck? I must’ve eaten too fast.” “Have you ever done that before?” he asked.“Maybe after not eating for quite a while?” “Nope.Never.I’ve got a cast-iron stomach. I’m sure I just tried to cram too much in too fast. I’ll take small bites and try again. You can pull back onto the road. I know you need to claw your way into the earth before the sun comes up. I’m fine.” He frowned at her again and then turned his gaze to the windshield, easing the car onto the snow-covered road. Eating too fast wasn’t the issue. He was sure of it. He’d seen this behavior too many times before to miss the significance. She sat still, her eyes closed, the burger forgotten in her lap. He tuned into her thoughts, picking up confusion and a hint of fear. The fear intrigued him, so he slipped into her mind, replaying the events that occurred during their separation. There it was.Quade had forced her to drink his blood.Malveaux had a strangle-hold on the steering wheel, his white fingers turning blue from his anger. The cretin was going to pay for taking what belonged toMalveaux . How did everything get so fucked up? All he had to do was transform Tempest when he had the opportunity, and now -- even if he performed the ritual -- she could die. Mixing such strong vampire blood put the situation into unknown territory. The thought of ripping the asshole’s heart out only spiked his rage. He raised his hand, made a fist, and punched it into the door panel, cracking the authentic oak detailing. Tempest jumped in her seat, French fries flying. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” she shouted. “You scared the shitoutta me. Have you no respect for sick people? I’m recovering here!” He stared straight ahead, scowling, and tried to remember the stone-cold killer he’d been only a couple of days ago.Before this human storm had upended his existence. Before she’d made him want things that were dangerous to want. She rested her hand on his leg.“Hey,fuckwad . What’s going on? The temperature in here just took a nosedive. What are you pissed about?” Startled by her touch, he swiveled his head toward her. “I was thinking about whatQuade did to you and what I’m going to do to him. I’m annoyed that I have to wait until tonight.” She pulled her hand away. “Yeah, well, we’ll definitely kick his ass as soon as I get my second wind. I’vegotta tellya , I feel like crap. Maybe there was something funky about that burger, and that’s why I ralphed .” She picked up a French fry from the floor, tentatively stuck it in her mouth, and nibbled slowly. She repeated the process a few more times then sat back, smiling. “That’s more like it. Those little suckers just slide right down.” Her last words barely rolled off her tongue before she gagged, grabbed the empty food bag, and lost the

fries. She flopped back into the seat and groaned, clutching her stomach. “Shit. I’m sick. That’s just what I need on top of every-fucking-other thing that’s happened over the last couple of days. I’m just going to close my eyes for a little while. Maybe that’s it. I’m just wiped, and it’sall your fault.” As soon as she closed her eyes, he gave a mental command for her to drop into a deep sleep. If his suspicions were correct, sleep was the only pain-free option for her, at least until she fed on something she could keep down. And having Tempest unconscious certainly would make things easier when they got to their new daytime resting place. ***** Tempest opened her eyes, or thought she did. Everything was black. She reached up to feel if her eyelids were still closed, and her hand grazed something hard above her. She tried to sit up and smacked her head on that same surface. When she lay down and tried to rub the sore spot, her hand ran into the same barrier again. “Holy fuck.What now?” she said out loud as she so often did when things got weird. The last thing she remembered was sitting inMalveaux’s car and saying she was going to sleep for a while. This didn’t feel like the inside of the Jag. Using both hands, she tentatively pushed on whatever it was, which now that she noticed, was covered by some kind of soft material. It moved, but not much. It was heavy. She was just about to push harder when it occurred to her that she had company. Slanting her gaze to the side, she tried to make out the form lying next to her. There wasn’t much light, but she could see the profile of a face.A familiar face. Tempest exerted more pressure against the hardness and light flooded her eyeballs. She’d pushed open the hinged top of a huge, red satin-lined coffin. She sat up and found herself in some vast warehouse-type building. It reminded her of those giant furniture stores where you had to ride little golf carts around to find the cheap entertainment center of your dreams. What was she doing in a furniture store? No. Wait. There were no coffins in furniture stores. The strangely large, dirt nap box was fancy. Gold handles, shiny black surface, like the thing in that old Stanley Kubrick space movie. A horrible idea hit her, and she gasped. “Shit!” She turned toMalveaux stretched out along side her and ran her fingers down his still, oddly blue face. His skin was frigid. She shook him, “Hey,fuckwad . Where are we? Wake up!”Nothing. Truly panicked now, she stood. “Jesus Christ! I’m africkin ’ vampire! I’m dead! The son of a bitch did it after all!” She didn’t know if she wanted to kick the shit out ofMalveaux , scream at the top of her lungs, or sob like a baby. She let a good head of pissed-off steam build up, and then another thought occurred to her. She touched her own warm skin. “Wait a minute. If I was dead, I’d be cold like heat-and-serve pretty boy, but I’m not. Okay, maybe I’m not dead.” She looked down atMalveaux ,creeped out by the idea that he actually did die during the day. An involuntary shudder wiggled down her body. She’d been locked in a casket with a dead guy.

Voices echoed in the distance, and she jumped out of the coffin, which was tucked back in a corner of the vast room, displayed on a fake tiger fur rug. She reached up and closed the coffin lid. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to find a corpse in one of the demo caskets. She crouched in the shadows. The voices receded, and Tempest let out the breath she’d been holding. When the coast was clear, she crawled out from her hiding place and stood. Where the fuck was she? As if in silent answer, a neon sign directly across the room flickered to life: %%Crazy Dave’s Death Emporium Coffins ‘R’ Us Cremations While You Wait@@ She had to shove part of her fist into her mouth to keep from laughing hysterically. She’d heard about this place.Some rich whacko with a death fetish. Waking up in bizarre places was starting to feel normal. According to the digital clock hanging underneath a sign that read “How Much Time DoYou Have Left?” it would be dark in about three hours. She’d be safe until then. First order of business: take the Jag and drive to her apartment. DidMalveaux keep the keys in his pocket?Only one way to find out. She lifted the coffin lid, stared at his gorgeous yet lifeless face, then patted down his pockets, noticing he still managed to sport an impressive erection. She had a fleeting thought about that and then let it go. No keys. They must be in the car. “I guess this is goodbye, pretty boy. Thanks for the nightmare.” She lowered the coffin lid and headed for the exit sign. The door creaked open, and Tempest stepped out into a cold, gray day. She rubbed her hands together, grateful for the clothesMalveaux had provided. Her father’s jacket was warm but wouldn’t have protected her legs. Snow-covered asphalt filled with semi trucks stretched as far as she could see. She guessed the rumors about Crazy Dave were true. The media darling had a clandestine life as an underworld figure, and all those trucks lining up to unload were filled with hot merchandise. No wonder this building was the size of an airport. She mentally filed the information away for future use. Life in the inner city had taught her to keep her eyes and ears open. But she had more pressing matters to deal with. Where was the Jag? She circled halfway around the building before spotting the silver car.Malveaux had parked it as far away from the activity as possible. When she got within a few feet of the vehicle, she suddenly felt afraid, paranoid, and terrified for no apparent reason. She trusted her intuition, so she squatted down behind an ungodly huge SUV and looked for trouble. No trouble presented itself. She started to question her sanity and then rememberedMalveaux’s ability to surround the car with a dread vibe to keep potential thieves away. She stood, moved forward slowly, fighting a strong compulsion to run away, and pulled on the door handle. It opened. She peered inside and found the keys in the ignition and her guitar case and briefcase still in the back seat. “Ha! Female intuition triumphs over vampire bullshit! Score one for the Motor City Mama!”

She slid into the seat, kicked over the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot. Her drive from the edge of the city to its center took more time than she expected. Fucking snow slowed the traffic. Asshole drivers freaked out and drove like geezers inFlorida . When she reached her building, she had to circle the block to find a place to park. Luckily a rectangle of snow-free cement a half-block down became available when somebody dug his vehicle out of the white crap and drove away. She eased in. The Jag drove like a dream. She wondered if the “dread” thing was still active, or ifMalveaux would come looking for her when his toy was appropriated by one of her lowlife neighbors. She’d deal with that if it happened, and she’d lock the door the regular old human way. She collected her belongings from the back seat, slammed the door, clicked the lock, and pocketed the keys. The familiar curry smell in the hallway gagged her, and she bolted up the stairs. She knew she’d have to eat something that didn’t make her barf, but even the thought of food made her stomach churn. It seemed like a week since she’d been home, and she was eager to take the world’s longest, hottest shower and drink a few hundred beers. A couple of feet away from the door she got a weird feeling, which was heightened by the fact that her door was cracked open a few inches. She leaned her guitar case and briefcase against the wall, pushed the door with her finger and watched it swing open. Something smelled horrible. She sucked in a breath and screamed. Her apartment was filled with blood. It dripped down the walls, pooled on the old carpet, and oozed from the broken bodies lying in unnatural poses, scattered around the room: the bodies of her roommate Lauren and all the guys in the band. Chapter Thirteen

Shocked, Tempest ran to Lauren and dropped to her knees on the bloody carpet. Her roommate’s limp body was draped backwards over the arm of the couch. From that angle, Tempest could see a pulse beating faintly in Lauren’s neck. She could also see several sets of double puncture wounds. Some of the blood appeared dark, as if it had been there a while. “Fucking vampires!Quade!” She ran to the telephone and dialed “911.” As soon as she heard someone answer, she started yelling, “Send an ambulance! They’re dying! Get over herenow!” She didn’t even stop for air. She gave her address, threw the phone down, and leaped over to the nearest band member. All four of the guys had weak heartbeats. Some of the wounds on their necks looked like the feeding frenzy of crazed animals. Stan’s sweet face was battered and bruised. She knew she shouldn’t touch anything because the cops would give her shit for disturbing a crime

scene, but she couldn’t stand to see her friends displayed in such a disrespectful and crude manner. “Fuck the cops,” she muttered as she moved from body to body, making slight adjustments in their positions. She crooned soothingly to them as she worked, telling them help was on the way, and they’d be okay. She was rewarded by the occasional flutter of an eyelid or the movement of a finger. Footsteps clattering up the stairs alerted her to the arrival of the ambulance and the city’s finest. Living close to a cop precinct finally paid off. She tried to keep it together while the cops took her statement. She couldn’t let on that she had any clue about the perpetrators. Nobody would believe her anyway. They asked the same questions over and over, and she repeated the same story. Cops had a way of looking as if they didn’t believe a word you were saying, so she wasn’t sure if they didn’t buy her story or they were just being cops. They must have been satisfied for the time being because they left her alone, propped against a wall in the corner. She watched theEMTs examine her friends, and her knees almost gave out in relief when she overheard them tell each other that all the victims should recover fully. One of them said he’d never seen so much blood loss and wondered about the holes in their necks. He whispered something about it being a vampire attack and then laughed.If he only knew. She sagged forward, dropping to her knees, the adrenaline rush diminishing. Her heart slammed in her chest, and she could feel the blood racing through her veins. She’d never been as heartbroken as when she thought Lauren and the guys were dead. As they carried the last of her friends out of the apartment, one of the cops came and stood over her. “Are you okay,miss ? Is there anyone I can call for you?” She raised her eyes to his, a little ashamed of her previous harsh judgments.“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. I appreciate you asking, though.” He nodded and moved toward the door, “We might have more questions, so let us know if you change locations.” After she watched him leave, she scanned the room. It finally sank in that her apartment had been trashed and her friends brutalized. Was she going to change locations? Shit, yeah! She had no idea where she’d go, but she obviously couldn’t stay here. True, her bedroom probably wasn’t disturbed, or the bathroom, either, but that was beside the point. How could she stay in the place where thecocksucking vampires had attacked her friends? She was going to getQuade for this.Somehow. She stared at a puddle of blood a couple of feet away and found herself crawling toward it. Her body moved of its own volition. Something about the crimson substance called to her. Without thinking, she stuck a finger in the center of the pool -- into the part that hadn’t started to thicken and congeal -- and scooped up some of the cool liquid. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, the finger made its way to her mouth. She sucked the blood and groaned. It tasted so good. She trailed her finger through the puddle again and gasped, suddenly realizing what she’d done. Stunned, she leaped up and backed away. But even as she distanced herself, the blood craving increased. Just the small taste had done something to her senses, heightened them. She felt as if she’d done a line of coke. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” she yelled. “What did those bloodsucking assholes do to me?” “What bloodsucking assholes, dear?” Tempest’s head jerked toward the high-pitched voice. Her elderly, gambling-addicted neighbor stood in

the open doorway, gaping at the grisly sight.“Oh, my. Did you have another one of your wild parties? I thought I heard some carrying-on earlier. I’d just taken my medicine, though, so I couldn’t be sure it was actually happening. You’re going to have ahelluva time getting all those stains out of the carpet. You can kiss your security deposit goodbye.” The old woman raised her nose, sniffing. “I hate to say it, dear, but your housekeeping skills leave a lot to be desired. It smells awful in here. Would you like me to go get my air freshener? It works wonders when my boyfriend Carl comes to visit and eats too much Mexican food.” “No, thanks, Mrs. Nelson.I’ll hire a cleaning service or something.” Tempest stepped in front of the old lady, blocking her view. She pushed the door closed, forcing the neighbor to back up. “I’ll try to keep the noise down. Have a nice evening.” Tempest could hear Mrs. Nelson’s voice ranting on in the hallway. It was a good thing the nosy woman hadn’t dropped by during the “party” to see what was happening, or she’d be on her way to the emergency room, too. The apartment really did have a strong odor, but Tempest had to admit she found it appealing. She closed her eyes and sniffed, having the same pleasant reaction she’d had only a week ago to Lauren’s special lasagna. A sharp pain in her stomach doubled her over. What the hell? She’d gone without food for days before and never felt like this. Forgetting about the state of the living room, she stumbled into the kitchen to forage for food. She had to get her shit together. Maybe she was pre-diabetic orsomething, and that was why she was so whacked out. The refrigerator was full of junk food, a sure sign that the band members had been there. She pulled a leg from a bucket of fried chicken and sank her teeth into the greasy flesh. Within seconds of finishing, a wave of nausea crashed over her, and she leaned into the sink and vomited. The chicken bone fell out of her hand with athunk . She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. Out of habit, she cupped her hand and held it under the water, filling it. She slurped the cold liquid and then heaved again. Fear radiated down her spine. She knew anger was her favorite way to deal with being scared, so she kicked the cabinet under the sink, splintering the wood. Shocked, she stood back and stared at the damage. “Fuck! I’ve kicked that cabinet lots of times, and it never broke. What else can go wrong today?” Tempest knew better than to ask that question. There was always another pile of shit waiting to be stepped in. She glanced down at her bloodstained clothes and decided she could deal with being in the apartment long enough to shower and change. On her way to her bedroom, she got distracted by a wide circle of blood on the coffee table. Quicker than her brain could react, she bent down and licked the blood from the table.All of it. Then, caught up in the mindless frenzy, she sought out another pool of red and drank. What a rush. She’d never felt so alive, so powerful. Excited and entranced, she discovered that using her nose to scent the blood was quicker than using her eyes, and she found several more pools of her friends’ blood. Part of her brain struggled to make her stop, to realize the obscenity of what she was doing, but some other wild part urged her on. Her new liquid diet obviously agreed with her, because her stomach settled and felt great. After she found all the still-wet spots, she strode into the bedroom, licking her lips. The room had been

tossed. She wasn’t Susie Homemaker, but she usually made her bed and straightened up, lining her acoustic guitar collection neatly in a row against the wall. She specifically remembered doing that before leaving for the last gig, because she had expected to get lucky. Yeah, she got something, but luck wasn’t involved. All the covers had been pulled off the bed, and her guitars were everywhere. One of her band photos, a provocative, nearly-nude pose of her caressing her black Fender electric, was on her pillow, and a large stain decorated the center of the sheet. The scent was immediately recognizable. Out of habit, she bent down and sniffed. Guy cum.Somebody had jerked off on her bed. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure it had beenQuade . The asshole had left his calling card. With a new sense of urgency, she peeled off the soiled clothes and headed into her small bathroom. It didn’t look like the fiends had messed with anything there. Instead of the longest hot shower ever, she took the quickest. There was no window in the bathroom, and she didn’t know what time it was, but she definitely needed to be elsewhere by dark.Assuming, of course, that the fucking vampires couldn’t rise from the dead before then. She wrapped her hair in a towel, stood in front of the mirror and stared at herself , trying to figure out what looked different. Her skin was pale, but that could be due to the barfing thing. The bags under her eyes were big enough to pack all her furniture in, but she could write that off to lack of sleep. No. It was something about her mouth. She bared her teeth and was startled to see her canines extended down farther than usual. She stared at the strange teeth and then closed her eyes, falling back on her childhood trick of wishing the bad thing away by refusing to acknowledge it. She tried pretending the teeth weren’t there, but no amount of wishful thinking made them appear normal. Her canines were just a bit too long.And stained. In fact, she had blood at the gum line and between her teeth. She was torn between being grossed out by the sight and feeling hungry for more. They really had done something to her, changed her. The thought was terrifying and arousing. There had to be some way to stop the process, to get back to normal. She hadn’t lied toMalveaux when she said she didn’t want to be a vampire. She’d rather die. Tempest stared at the reflection of her eyes. The harsh light made them appear dark, cold, and empty. If eyes were the window to the soul, night had fallen deep inside her. How the fuck was she supposed to deal with that? Staring into the mirror reminded her of the common belief that vampires don’t have a reflection. Malveaux hadn’t mentioned anything about that and, since she could still see herself, maybe that idea was another myth like the religious stuff. Or maybe the image didn’t disappear until her body was dead. Either way, she didn’t want to think about it. After a moment, she tore her gaze away, walked into her bedroom, and examined the closet. Most of her jeans were in the laundry basket, so she grabbed the new ones she’d been saving for a special occasion. Fighting for her life probably qualified as some kind of occasion. She had no idea where she was going or what would happen, but she’d be warm. The ugly, bulky sweater Stan had given her for one holiday or another went on over a politically incorrect T-shirt, and she covered her feet with thick socks and running shoes. Tempest was still perched on the edge of the bed, tying her shoes, when she sensed them. There wasn’t any physical evidence -- no sounds-- but she knewQuade and his bloodsucking demons were near. She ran to the bedroom window and stared at the streetlights glowing in the darkness. How could it possibly be dark already? Had she blacked out or something? How long had she been sucking blood off the floor

in the living room? She couldn’t believe she’d just asked herself that. She whirled around to grab her coat and run, and there he was, smiling his demented smile. He wore black leather tonight, and his blond hair still stood up in little spikes. She froze. Her brain went on a side-trip, thinking about leather being easier to clean blood from than cloth. He must have messed with her head. His depraved smile widened. “I knew you’d be here. We left your friends barely alive, a little gift for you, but we both know why you’rereally here. That little taste of my blood made you desire me even more, didn’t it? Too bad we won’t have time to fuck around before you die. But then maybe I shouldn’t be hasty. Perhaps I should just turn you. I think you’d hate that more. You’re already half-way there, I’d say, judging by the length of your teeth.” He moved a few steps closer and grabbed for her. Reflexes are a great thing, especially martial-arts trained reflexes, even with vampireju-ju clogging her brain. Tempest jumped backwards, grasped the neck of one of her acoustic guitars, swung it, and bashedQuade upside the head. A chord -- a C-sharp-diminished, if she wasn’t mistaken -- pulsed through the air. She thought about how cool it was that she knew the actual sound a guitar made when it crashed against a bloodsucker’s head. Okay. Her brain was still staring at its navel. He stumbled back briefly, more from surprise than pain, and bared his teeth. He lunged again, and she whirled the guitar, this time clipping his shoulder. The force of the impact broke the curvy body of the instrument, separating it from its neck, and she was left holding a stick trailing nylon strings. All the vampires had crammed into the bedroom and stood behindQuade , appearing anxious and impatient, wanting their turns. One eager corpse surged forward, andQuade slapped him back, sending him reeling into the living room. “Get away! She’s mine!” Quadegrinned, or whatever the evil-demon-from-hell version of a grin was, then opened his mouth wide enough for Tempest to watch his long, sharp fangs descend. She backed away, falling onto her bed. He laughed, rubbing his hand over the obvious erection in his leather pants. Quirking an eyebrow, he pulled the zipper down on his fly and propelled himself toward her. Simultaneously, she lifted the broken guitar neck like a sword and thrust it at his midsection. It was the forward motion of his leap -- not to mention luck -- more than her pretend sword wielding skills that caused the sharp end of the wood to sink into his upper stomach. Quaderoared with rage, frowned down at the apparatus dangling from his gut, blood spurting from the wound, and went berserk. He didn’t even try to remove the guitar remains. He grabbed Tempest, lifted her into the air by the front of her sweater, and sank his fangs into her neck. She screamed, flailing in the air as he sucked the life force from her body, and then she finally went silent.Quade lowered her to the bed again and continued feeding. Screams and shouts from the other room signaled a new development. Something was happening. The sounds started out as angry and threatening and then became fearful whimpers. Then there was nothing. Quaderetracted his fangs from Tempest’s neck, raised his head, and was suddenly lifted away from her. Her vision was fading, but she could see his shocked, bloody face as he made a backward arc, held in the air byMalveaux’s hand. Her fuzzy brain seemed to float outside her body, observing dispassionately. The bobbing guitar neck was a nice touch, she thought, as she struggled to remain conscious. She’d miss that guitar. “Tempest’s aim might have been a little off with the makeshift stake, but my aim is much better,”

Malveaux said. He knifed his free hand throughQuade’s chest, palmed his heart, and pulled the blackened organ out of the flailing bloodsucker’s body.Quade made a sound somewhere between a growl and a little girl scream. Displaying the organ like a prize,Malveaux caught Tempest’s eyes, crushed the heart, and shook the residue from his hands. He threwQuade to the floor, bent over, twisted the former master’s head, and ripped it from his body. Tempest was losing ground fast. Her breathing was shallow, and her heart fluttered like butterfly wings. Quade must have almost drained her. She knew she was dying. With supreme effort, she smiled at Malveaux , who now leaned over her. “Icoulda gotten serious about you, pretty boy. You really arekinda cute.” She closed her eyes. “Tempest!” Her eyes flew open. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want this, but if I don’t give you my blood, you’ll die, and that’s not an option. I’m not going anywhere without you.” He lowered his mouth, sucked on her neck for a couple of seconds, then raised up. Staring into her eyes, he stretched out his arm, used his sharp fingernail to slice open the skin of his wrist, and let the blood ooze from the wound. He positioned the cut over her mouth and dripped the warm, red liquid onto her lips. She stuck out the tip of her tongue, hesitantly tasting. Malveaux shoved his wrist tight to her mouth and shouted, “Drink!” She struggled for breath, sucking in the rich, copper taste of his blood. The sensation was so wonderful that she convulsively swallowed the intoxicating heat whileMalveaux kept up a chant-like monologue of strange words. She sank into oblivion. Chapter Fourteen

Tempest drifted in and out of consciousness. She shivered, her body drenched in sweat. Stabbing pains convulsed her abdomen, forcing her onto her side as she gagged, dry-heaving. Cold spasms knifed through her chest. Her head throbbed worse than any hangover she’d ever had or ever imagined. Hands pushed her onto her back again, and she felt something cool ease across her forehead. She heard voices.No, not voices.One voice.Male.Familiar.Talking to her.Calling her name. She tried to open her eyelids, but they were too heavy. “Tempest?Jesus, Tempest. You’re ripping my heart out. You can’t die. Not after everything that’s happened. You can’t leave me. We belong together. You’re mine.Blood of my blood.” The voice sounded sad, tired, and far away. A violent pain wracked her body, and she found herself floating over her physical form, which still flailed on the bed. Just like in a near-death experience. What a strange sensation.Peaceful, like swimming in cotton. She focused on the voice again. It belonged to the man sitting next to her body on the bed.Malveaux. Now she remembered.A vampire. Memory fragments tumbled to the floor of her brain like scattered puzzle pieces, waiting for her to retrieve them and assemble the picture.

She didn’t need the damn pieces. She already got the picture.Malveaux had turned her into a bloodsucking demon. Fuck that. Where the hell was she? Her physical body was obviously going through some kind of transformation, but she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Had she managed to escape the curse? Was she truly dying? She hoped so. After being dragged through the fiery pits of Hell in her mind since the demonic change began, she’d give anything to see the well-known, light-filled tunnel. She’d gladly slough off her mortal coil. “It’s really not so bad, being a vampire. There are lots of benefits: living forever or at least a very long time, being the most powerful predator on the planet,shapeshifting , mind reading, never getting skin cancer from the sun, never having to wash the dishes, and giving new meaning tomulti-orgasmic.” Malveaux’svoice droned on. He’d been talking to her for hours.Days? Who knew how long she’d been locked in this nightmare. While her body buried its humanity, her mind tortured her with visions of every horrible thing that ever happened in her life, one fucked-up, disappointing event after another.A fucking stroll down misery lane. But she was beyond that now. Wherever she was, it was quiet.Safe. So far, dying was pretty good. “You can be the most famous rock star in the world. Just imagine it. I can set up deals for the band and we can fly -- safe in our custom-made coffins, of course -- in our personal jet all over the world. You could zap radio and TV interviewers into giving you rave reviews -- not that they wouldn’t anyway -- but you can be in charge of your career in a way you never dreamed of before.” Listening toMalveaux talk about her career caught her attention. She wouldn’t mind having her own jet and calling her own career shots. There were lots of entertainment industry assholes who needed a dose of Motor City Mama reality. She’d enjoy completing some unfinished business with a couple of big-time shakers, but it wasn’t worth spending eternity as a bloodsucking fiend. She daydreamed -- or whatever passed for a daydream in this nocturnal hallucination -- about being queen of the electric guitar players. She envisioned herself leaping on top of a wall of amplifiers, wearing her highest stiletto heels, without ever losing her balance again. No matter how drunk she was. Oh, yeah. Scratch that. There wouldn’t be any drinking, but the other part of the fantasy was great. She could hear the approving roar of the crowd. “I haven’t ever told anyone the things I’ve shared with you. You can’t let all that wimpy self-disclosure go to waste. You’ve got to stay with me and hold the information over my head for a few centuries. Think of the creative ways you could blackmail me. I wouldn’t want anyone else to know how important you are to me, how lonely I was before I met you. Come on, Tempest! Wake up!” No fucking way. She didn’t want to wake up. It was nice and warm where she was floating. She didn’t want to know his secrets. She didn’t want to care about him. She didn’t want to hear his sob stories. She didn’t want to look at his face. She jerked her attention away from him and found herself hovering higher, soaring over the city. There was the bridge toCanada . She wondered if she could fly up high enough to see theMackinacBridge . “Temper!I didn’t expect to see you so soon!” Tempest turned toward the voice. There was only one person who’d called her Temper, and he was

dead. “UncleStix ? What the fuck? What are you doing here?” He looked exactly the same as the last time she’d seen him, before the drug overdose. His long, stringy white hair flowed down over bony shoulders and bright green eyes sparkled mischievously in his wrinkled face. He smiled, the space between his two front teeth gaping as wide as ever. “Well, who else isgonna come andmeet you? You were my favorite niece, after all.Us musiciansgotta stick together.” “Where am I? Am I dead?” “Nope.Not yet. You’re still deciding. It’s always up to each person, and you have a particularly interesting set of choices.” “Are you an angel?” Joyful laughter erupted from his smiling face as he slapped his palm on his thigh. “Nobody’s ever called me that before! But that’s what I’ll be if you like. It’s all about what you expect, what you believe.” “If I’m not dead, and you’re not an angel, what the hell is going on? Do you know about the vampire stuff?” “I assuredly do. Leave it to you, my little rocker, to get yourself involved in supernatural craziness. I can’t say that experience would appeal to me, but I can see the logic of it for you. Being a vampire would make you one powerful woman.” “What? You think being a bloodsucking demon from Hell would be okay? This is a delusion, right? This is part of the dying thing. You’re not really here. I’m losing my mind, aren’t I?” He shook his head. “No crazier than usual, Temper. Vampires are just one of many kinds of mysterious creatures. There are plenty of others. They’re only bad or evil if that’s your belief. Choosing to be a vampire for a few centuries or so is just another experience. Remember we had a talk one time about how maybe choosing lifetimes was like choosing to be in a movie? Some movies are happy, some are sad. Some are supernatural. At the end of the film, everyone just packs up and goes on to the next movie, right? You’re the director, the producer, the actor. Well, we weren’t far off. It issorta like that.” She stared at him, lips pressed together. “What is this shit?Movies? Vampires are okay? What the hell are you talking about? I’m dying, here!” He shook his head again. “You’re only dying if you want to. I just came to tell you something about the good-lookin’ guy you’ve beenhangin ’ with.” “The vampire?Malveaux?What about him? This is onehelluva weird hallucination.” UncleStix chuckled. “Well, turns out there reallyare such things as soul mates, and he’s yours.” Good thing this wasn’t really happening -- that it was just her brain synapses frying -- because it was the biggest load of shit she’d ever heard.

She opened her mouth to voice her opinions even louder and then stopped, taking another path. “What if I choose to die? What happens then?” He pulled at the wiry hairs sprouting from his chin. “Well, you’ll turn back into energy,then you can decide what you want to do next. There’s really no limit. Anything you can imagine, you can do.” She frowned, studying him, waiting for him to say he was just kidding or something. “Well, what about heaven and hell and all that stuff? Are you saying that doesn’t exist?” He grinned. “Everything exists.Whatever you want.Whatever you need.” “Okay, come on now. Level with me. I’m insane, right? My brain is rotting and oozing out my ears, and that’s why I’m having this psychotic delusion. You’re not real, are you?” He stood up very straight and became serious. “That depends on what ‘real’ means to you.” She started to talk again, and he cut her off with a wave of his hand. “It’s time for you to decide. Either go back and have your adventure with Handsome Harry the Vampire or choose to end your existence as Tempest and come with me. It’s all good.” He smiled, “Of course, you can’t bring your guitar with you if you come with me.” She stared into UncleStix’s friendly eyes for a moment, and he nodded. “I figured the guitar thing would do it. If you want to talk to me again, just call me. I’m always around. Take care, sweet Temper!” Simultaneously he vanished, and she floated once again over her physical body in the bed. She arrived just in time to watchMalveaux tenderly kiss her lips. “Please don’t die.” Wow. That was one amazing dream or whatever. She guessed she didn’t have to die right then. She could always walk into the sun, if the bloodsucking gig was a drag. Who’d polish her ax if she was dead? And pretty boy wasn’t half bad to look at, and he certainly was a finecocksman .Seemed to like her pretty well, too. No promises. She’d take it one day -- or night, rather -- at a time. Maybe they could steal blood from blood banks or something. Shit. It wasn’t as if any kind of life was easy. And there was that jet to consider. She just wasn’t ready to let go yet. There were too many songs to write. With a gasp, she opened her eyes. Malveaux’sjaw dropped.“Tempest!” He scooped her limp body into his arms. “I didn’t think you were going to make it. You were out for so long! Do you remember anything?” She licked her dry lips and coughed. The pain was gone.“Just the weirdest dream. My dead uncle was there…” Epilogue

“Oh, yeah.That’s the spot.Slower.Now faster. Jesus, you’re so good at that.” Tempest gazed down atMalveaux’s head between her legs. She had a death grip on his shiny hair as he flicked his tongue along her clit. Her heart pounded double-time, shallow breaths puffed from her wet, parted lips. She groaned, her body writhing in ecstasy. Her pleasure built, and her hips caught his rhythm, bucking more forcefully as her orgasm approached. He groaned and tightened his grip on her thighs to hold her in place for the big finish. “Malveaux!” she screamed, her bodyspasming in rapture. After a moment, he raised his head and smiled, licking his lips. He crawled like a hungry cat up her body and then thrust his cock into her wet slit in one smooth movement. He growled low, gazing into her eyes. She fastened her legs around him, took him even deeper, and then encircled his neck with her arms, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. He teased his tongue into her mouth, and she groaned, opening herself in every way. They moved together as one, riding the wave as it exploded, the still-new sensation of sharing bodies and souls a constant surprise to each. “Wow,” Tempest said as the vibrations pulsed through her body. Malveauxlifted his head. “Eloquently stated, as usual,” he teased. “I’d say ‘fuck you,’ but that would be redundant. Will I ever get used to these new vampire orgasms? Won’t my body explode or something?” He chuckled and rolled to the side, pulling her close against his chest. “It’s not just the vampire part that makes them cataclysmic. It’s because you’re my offspring. The same blood runs in our veins. You’re mine.” She slid her hand across his chest.“Yeah, yeah. We’ve been all through this. You know I’m not going to be anybody’s slave. You can kiss that fantasy goodbye. I call my own shots, pretty boy.” “I don’t want a slave,” he said. “I want you. Nothing about this process turned out as I expected. You somehow managed to become my equal. There’s just something strange about your brain, or maybe it’s the way I feel about you. Maybe that was the fly in the cosmic ointment.” She rose up on one elbow and gave him an innocent smile. “How you feel about me? How is that, exactly?” He stared up at the ceiling, frowned, and cleared his throat. “You know. I mean youliterally know because you can read my mind.” “Maybe, but I want you to tell me. Out loud. I need to hear it.” He shifted his gaze back to hers. “That’s too bad. As the song says, ‘You can’t always get what you want.’ Every relationship needs a little mystery. I’ll just let my actions speak louder than my words.” He cupped her breast.

She smiled. “Okay, mystery man. I guess I like you, too. How could I not, after yougot the band a recording contract and a gig at the coolest club inL.A. ? After waiting thirty years for my big break, you managed to get me on the cover ofRolling Stone in only six months.” She pointed to the promo photos hanging in ornate frames on the bedroom wall, thinking about how great it was that vampires could be photographed with the new technology. “You’re now officially pawing the tit of ‘The Year’s Most Exciting New Talent.’ I’ll admit it. I was totally impressed. One blast from yourvampiro -eyeballs, and people were falling over themselves to do your bidding. You’ll have to teach me more about using my vampireju-ju to make humans do what I want. I don’t have the hang of that yet.” He gave her a quick kiss. “I told you I’d make you famous.As the saying goes, ‘Youain’t seennothin ’ yet.’ You’re getting pretty good at keeping the band members from being aware of the fact that their lead guitar player is now a bloodsucking fiend.” He pinched her nipple. “Not to mention the hidden life of yours truly, their new manager.” She laughed and slid her hand down his stomach, heading south. “Yeah, but you know musicians. Give them a little smoke, some alcohol, junk food, and loose women, and they don’t ask many questions.” He caught her hand just as her fingernails raked through his pubic hair. He smirked. “What was it your imaginary uncle said about me? I’m your what?” She retracted the fingers that were inching toward his cock, and relaxed back into the bed, frowning. “I should never have told you. You’ll never let me forget it now, will you? I don’t believe in any of that soul mate shit.” He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “Yes, you do.” She ran her fingers through his long hair.“Up yours. You’d better watch out. I could leave you any time, and find another bloodsucker to hang with. Then you’d be sorry for tormenting me.” He smiled wide. “Goodtry, offspring. We’re bonded.Forever. Do you really want to leave me?” She rolled over onto his chest and kissed him.“Nope. You’re stuck with me.Apparently for a very long time.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well, what shall we do to fill all that time?” She gazed down at his erection and smiled, walking her fingers down his thigh. She touched the drop of liquid beading at the top of his cock and raised her finger to her mouth. “Are there vampires inL.A. ?” He barked out a laugh, obviously surprised by the change of topics. “Yes, as a matter of fact, there are lots of us. You’d be surprised how manyHollywood celebrities and members of famous bands are vampires. There are even vampire gangs. Why do you ask?” An evil grin blossomed across her face. “I thought after we get done screwing each others’ brains out, we could go piss off some more vampires. Fry some of the bad ones. That was fun.” He laughed. “Ah, yes. I can see it now.Malveaux and Offspring, Vampire Assassins for Hire. That has quite a ring to it.” “And speaking of rings, pretty boy.I want one. A big diamond, and maybe a queen-of-the-guitar-players crown, too. After all, we have to keep up appearances.” She kissed him.

“Well, that’s the least I can do.” “You got that right,” she mumbled as her hand closed around his cock. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Hera St.Aubyn

Hera St.Aubyn was raised in the inner city of a large, Midwestern metropolis. She grew up loving books and music, and spent many years performing as a singer in various rock and roll bands around the country. Her love of all things metaphysical and paranormal drew her to vampire books. She still remembers the first time she read Bram Stoker’sDracula and the resulting obsession with the children of the night. She loves writing erotic paranormal fiction and looks forward to honing her craft, spinning dark tales and meeting other paranormal fans. She also wouldn’t mind finding a gorgeous vampire tapping on her window one of these nights.