Vampire Guardian

# Blood and Soul 3: Vampire Guardian Kate Hill

All rights reserved. Copyright ©2004 by Kate Hill No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

ISBN 1-59596-054-6 Formats Available: HTML, Adobe PDF, MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader Publisher: Changeling Press LLC PO Box 1561 Shepherdstown, WV 25443-1561 www.ChangelingPress.com Editor:Sheri Ross Carucci Cover Artist:Sahara Kelly

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Prologue

“Oh, fuck. Damn! Yeah, baby. That’s right. Oh!” Dechrista moaned, her head thrashing on the pillow. Her fingers sank into the guy’s shoulders and she wriggled her hips against the attack from his skilled tongue and lips. He lapped her clit with the flat of his tongue, then used the tip to stab it with little thrusts. His hands slipped beneath her and gripped her ass, clutching and kneading the globes to the same rhythm as his tongue. One of his long fingers slid along the indentation between her ass cheeks and paused over her sphincter. Pressing against the sensitive hole, his finger drove her nearly as wild as his mouth on her clit. When she’d picked the guy up, she figured he was just another john, only better looking than most. Tall and lean, with sandy blond hair and huge blue eyes, he reminded her of a soap opera star. With his boy-next-door looks, she never would have expected the demands he made, and she certainly had no idea that he would be this good in bed. Gasping, she closed her eyes and panted hard, her entire body taut with impending orgasm. The way he was licking her clit with fast upward strokes, she was going to come any second. Suddenly he left her clit and poked his tongue into her cunt. It swirled inside her, tasting and exploring. Damn, she almost felt bad

for charging this guy. “Shit, baby, you’re doing everything right. Ah!” Her legs trembled uncontrollably and her muscles burned, straining for climax. The son-of-a-bitch knew just how to eat her to the point of pleasure-pain without allowing her to come. Pressing the flat of his tongue to her clit, he rubbed her with pulsing motions that flung her into orgasm. Dechrista grasped his ears and held his head closer, her heart pounding and hips thrusting. She wanted his tongue on her until the very last ripple. Apparently he had other ideas. Yanking from her grasp, he flipped her onto her back and bit her ass cheeks. “Hey! That hurt!” “Sorry, but you taste so good.” His tongue ran over her bottom. “I think you drew blood, asshole!” “Umm, that’s the point.” “What are you, some kind of fetish freak?” “You might say that.” She was about to tell him off and leave the apartment, but he parted her ass cheeks and dipped his tongue between them. Oh, damn, this was too much! He licked and prodded her nether hole. Warm, wet strokes sent shivers of pure lust up and down her spine. Sliding his hand under her, he found her clit and rubbed while licking her ass. To better accommodate his ministrations, Dechrista rose onto her hands and knees and thrust her bottom closer to his face. Panting, she gripped the mattress. Desire built quickly inside her. Heat enveloped her entire body and every pulse point throbbed to the violent pounding of her heart. Suddenly he stopped licking. She strained to see over her shoulder, but he grasped her hips and held her firmly. Then, oh joy! His erection prodded her from behind. Inch by inch he slid inside her, filling her with his hard, velvet-skinned cock. Dechrista groaned and wriggled her hips, wanting more of him. Shit, he was easily the best customer she’d ever had. “How’s this, honey?” he asked, his voice deep and purring, reminding her of a lion. “Oh, baby, you’re the best.” She panted, pressing her face against the mattress as his pace increased. That slick, hard cock rushing in and out of her was driving her wild. “What did you say your name was?” “Herb, but my friends call me Superfuck.” In spite of the marvelous sensations stealing her breath, she laughed. “Man, you have a lot of attitude.” He growled, animal-like, and continued plunging into her. Passion flooded her entire body. By the

wonderful tightening in her pussy and almost painful ache in her clit, she knew she was about to come again. “Yeah, oh, Herb! Oh, baby!” Dechrista convulsed, quivering from head to toe. Herb’s warm hands clung to her hips. If possible, his thrusting increased, forcing her back up the road to orgasm. Not that she was complaining, but this guy was insatiable. Most johns wanted it over quick. A couple of thrusts or a few sucks on his cock, and it was all over. Not Herb. It seemed like he was just getting started. Dechrista closed her eyes tightly and enjoyed the ride. As a third orgasm approached, she realized he was finally breathing heavy. His fingers sank into her hips and he slammed into her pussy. Sure, he was a little rough, but she was so wet and ready that it felt good. Her internal muscles clamped hard around him, pulsing in yet another spine tingling orgasm. Grunting, he lunged deep inside her, his hips straining. With a savage cry, he came long and hard. Releasing Dechrista, he flopped onto the bed beside her. She collapsed, panting and shaking in the aftermath of the best sex she’d had in… actually she couldn’t think of a time when she’d had better sex. “Fuck it, Herbie, you’re okay.” She grinned, lifting her head and gazing at him. He patted her ass and winked. “You’re pretty damn hot yourself, Dechrista, but I know a way to make things even hotter.” Her interest stirred. Did he want to do drugs? Maybe he had some kind of fancy dildo he wanted to try. “Like what?” “Like this.” Rolling her onto her back, he covered her body with his. He used his knee to part her legs, then prodded her pussy with his cock. “Shit, Herb, you sure have staying power, I’ll give you that.” “It’s in my blood,” he whispered, burying his face against the side of her neck while sliding fully inside her. His hips shifted, stirring her desire slowly. She was getting a little sore from his powerful movements and seemingly insatiable need. As much as she wanted another of those terrific orgasms, she wasn’t sure her body would be so kind. Something smooth and sharp slid along her neck. “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” she demanded, almost overcome by panic. Did the bastard have a knife? Had she finally picked up somebody who would take her out of this horrible existence? Sure, her life sucked, but now that it was being threatened, she clung to it instinctively. She struggled hard, punching and clawing at his shoulders. “Get off me! Get off!” “Hey.” He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. Some of her fear dissipated. He didn’t look like a killer. “I just wanted to show you something nice. It’s nothing to be scared of.” “What were you doing to my neck?” “I was going to bite it. I’m a vampire.”

Dechrista broke into laughter. “A what?” “You heard me, honey. Let me give you just a little love bite. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.” “Leave it to me to get tied up with some fetish freak.” “You’ll like it.” She sighed. “Well, I’ll try anything once. You will quit if I tell you to, though?” “Scout’s honor.” “I think I need a drink before we do this. Maybe a little --” She pointed to her nose. “Not that I don’t like drugs, but you won’t need them for this. Trust me. It will feel better than any drug mortals create.” Wow. This guy was out there. Dechrista started giggling again, but a moment later her laughter turned to breathless cries of passion. Whatever Herb was doing to her neck sent tidal waves of pleasure crashing over her. She was literally drowning in lust. He sucked and lapped her neck while driving his cock in and out of her quivering cunt. Rather than a build up followed by a few seconds of ultimate pleasure, this was like an extended orgasm. It went on and on until she could no longer see or hear, only feel. Slowly, he withdrew from her neck, and she whimpered, trying to pull him back. “If I take more I might hurt you,” he panted. It must have been the aftereffects of the drugs, but when she looked into his eyes, they glistened with a reddish tinge. “Unless you want to become like me.” Herb smiled. “You would make one hot vamp. What do you say? Let me make you one of us?” “If this is what being a vampire is like, then what the hell?” She tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. “Go ahead, stud. I’m all yours.”

Chapter One

Seated in front of an open window of his temporary residence at Burgundy Peak, Woodrow took a short break before finishing the song he had been writing. City scents wafted on the air -- wet pavement, gasoline, and smog. The aroma of fried rice from the Chinese restaurant across the street was starting to lure him away from his job. When working on his music, he often forgot to eat. Now hunger kicked around in his empty stomach, surpassed only by the craving for blood. Perhaps it was time to venture out for an hour or two. Running a hand over the neck of his acoustic guitar resting on the stand beside him, he felt the tug of creativity overpowering his physical needs. If he wanted food and blood, he had better go before his obsessive nature took over. The music would still be

there when he returned. He stood and inhaled deeply, catching the faint aroma of the coming rain. Then it struck him. Herb’s distinctive scent, faint at first, grew stronger with each passing moment. Woodrow closed his eyes and sighed. Herb had always been his problem child. Even before he became a vampire, Herb was always getting into one bind or another. Pure affection had inspired Woodrow to change him, and over the years Herb had used his Master’s love to his advantage. Fear and anxiety tainted Herb’s scent, so Woodrow knew it was no coincidence that his son in vampirism happened to be on his way to Burgundy Peak just when Woodrow was visiting. Releasing a slow breath, Woodrow grasped his cane, the handle molded into the shape of a snake, and left his room. Even before he reached the club’s foyer, he heard the bouncer and Herb arguing. The distinctive scent of a mortal in the process of the change hung heavily on the air. “I do not know or care who you are,” said Onan, a stern old vampire in charge of security at Burgundy Peak. Onan and Woodrow shared the same vampiric creator, Master Zigor, the club’s owner. “You will remove that woman from here immediately.” “Listen, I know Woodrow is here. I need to talk to him.” Woodrow joined them in the foyer. “It’s all right, Onan. I know him.” “You know the rules. The Master allows no changes to take place here without special arrangement. We don’t want it to get out that Burgundy Peak is the place for vampires to bring their mistakes to die.” “Woodrow, please.” Herb’s voice rose in his panic. “You have to help me. I really screwed this up.” “She smells normal enough. Onan, how does she look?” “I’ve seen worse.” “Master, please!” Herb must have been frantic to address Woodrow in such an ancient term. Unlike his own Master, Woodrow had never demanded his children call him by such an inflated title. Still, he told all his children stories of the ancient Masters, of the respect they demanded and the power they wielded. Herb only called Woodrow Master when he wanted something outrageous. “This girl is going to die if you don’t help me.” “She might die anyway. You know there are never guarantees that a mortal will survive the transformation, especially if the creator is inexperienced.” “This is my first try. I think I did something wrong.”

“I cannot allow you to stand here in the foyer carrying that mortal,” Onan said. “Please, please help me. At least for her sake.” Woodrow’s jaw tightened and he scolded himself for being a fool. “You may bring her to my room. Onan, I will talk to Master Zigor about our problem.” “Very well.” Herb, toting the woman, followed Woodrow upstairs. “Put her on the bed.” Woodrow approached the mortal and placed a hand on her sweaty forehead. “Fever is perfectly normal at this stage. Go in the bathroom and get a cool cloth. How is her color?” “White as a sheet.” “That means you didn’t give her enough of your own blood.” “Not enough? It felt like she damn near drained me dry.” “Some require more blood than others. You need to give her more right now.” “Can’t we just get her some from the bar downstairs?” “No. Until she is a full vampire, any blood but yours will kill her. Don’t you remember me telling you that?” “Yes. Sorry. I’m in panic mode.” “Then you should not have attempted this delicate procedure until you were ready.” The scent of Herb’s blood filled the room, so Woodrow knew he was forcing the girl to drink. “I thought I could handle it. She was good looking, you know, and so horny. I figured I could go ahead and give it a shot.” “Good looking and horny.” Woodrow didn’t bother keeping the disgust from his voice. “She means nothing more to you?” “How could she? I just met her tonight.” “You idiot! You have bound yourself to a woman you don’t even know? You have made her a vampire. Tell me, what sort of vampire will she be? Can she handle the power? Will she even want it?” “Oh, yeah. She wants it. I asked her before I went ahead and did it.” “Thank you for small favors.” Woodrow cracked his cane across the back of Herb’s head. “Ouch! Damn it, Woodrow, how come you always know exactly where to hit me even though you’re

blind?” “Experience. Have you thought about how you plan to teach this girl about what she has become? When you change someone, you know they’ll be with you for a decade at the very least.” “That’s another thing I wanted to ask you about.” Woodrow knew what was coming next and he rebelled with every fiber of his being. “No way, Herb. You got yourself into this mess, and I will not get you out of it. It is enough that I care for my own children. Now you must care for yours.” “Speaking of your children, when you changed us, how did you know if you gave us enough blood if you couldn’t see us?” “By scent. I note the subtle differences throughout the change. I could not judge your friend because I didn’t know what her scent was like before the change began.” “Always have an answer for everything, don’t you, Master?” “Stop calling me that. You only become respectful when you want something.” “Woodrow,” Onan called from outside the door. “The Master wants to see you now.” “I need to explain this and ask permission for you and her to stay.” Woodrow walked toward the door. “Keep washing her with the cool cloth and if she goes into spasms, see that she doesn’t ruin the room.” “Spasms!” “Is that another of my lessons you seem to have forgotten?” “Has she had enough of my blood yet?” “How is her color?” “Her face is flushed.” “Then she’s had enough.” “Woodrow?” “What?” “Thank you.” Growling with annoyance, Woodrow stepped into the hall and slammed the door behind him. *** Nearing the top of the steep, narrow staircase leading to Master Zigor’s private chamber, Woodrow caught the aroma of fire burning in the hearth, incense, and the powerful scent of the ancient vampire himself. The sound of leather striking flesh echoed in his ears. Since he knew the Master was alone,

Woodrow guessed he was engaged in one of his personal flogging rituals. Pain fascinated Master Zigor just as the Sistine Chapel fascinates artists. At the top of the steps, Woodrow paused, waiting for his Master to initiate the conversation. “What is the problem with the woman?” Master Zigor’s deep voice rumbled throughout the room. “She is undergoing the change.” “I didn’t ask you to state the obvious, Woodrow.” “She is Herb’s first attempt. He was afraid that she might die.” “So he brought his mistake here for you to fix.” “I couldn’t turn them away, Master.” “That is the problem with Herb. You can never turn him away. I understand the desire to indulge one’s child, but not when he is completely irresponsible.” “There is no way he can escape his responsibility this time, Master.” “Isn’t there?” “She will need guidance, and he is her creator.” Woodrow’s voice faded along with Herb’s scent. “Damn it!” “Let me guess.” Zigor’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Herb has decided he’s not ready for fatherhood after all.” Woodrow hurried down the steps, but when he reached the front of the club, he was too late. “He left in a cab.” Onan sounded as disgusted as Woodrow felt. “I must say none of your integrity rubbed off on him.” Drawing a deep breath, Woodrow returned to his room. The woman, halfway through the change, still lay on his bed. Cursing, Woodrow walked to the bathroom to freshen the damp cloth for her fever and found a note in Braille placed over the knob on the sink. Forgive me, Master, but I would be a bad mentor for her. You are a better man than I am, and a better teacher than I will ever be. Please take care of her until she is able to care for herself. Hopefully, when and if we see each other again, you’ll no longer want to stake me as I’m sure you do now. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Herb. “No.” Woodrow crumpled the note in his fist. “No, no, no. You useless brat, Herb! I won’t do it. I will not do it. I owe that woman nothing. I didn’t fuck her. I didn’t bite her. I certainly didn’t want to make her my companion for the next ten years. No. Absolutely not.” Loud, agonized moans beckoned him from the bedroom. “Damn.” Woodrow curled his lip and trudged back to his unwanted charge. It was going to be a long,

long night. By the sounds of her moans and labored breathing, he knew she had fallen off the bed and onto the floor. Within seconds, his cane prodded her. Stooping, he tugged her into his arms. One of her flailing hands struck him in the face, knocking off his dark glasses. Her booted feet slammed into his hip and side. Tightening his hold, he carried her to the bed and dumped her onto it. She screamed, the piercing sound tearing through his sensitive ears. If he didn’t shut her up, she would disturb everyone at Burgundy Peak. Clamping his hand over her mouth, he had no choice but to cover her body with his to restrain her jerking limbs. Foamy saliva seeped from her lips through his fingers. Her sweat drenched body dampened his shirt, but at the moment he didn’t care about the disgust factor. Her scent was stronger than ever, as was her heartbeat. It pounded so violently that he knew the complete change was close at hand. These final moments would determine whether she lived or died. If vampiric power had truly taken hold of her mortal body, then she would endure the physical demands. If not, her heart would give out and she would die a mortal death. Usually the presence of one’s creator played an important role in a new vampire’s survival. Their physical and spiritual link could somehow reinforce the mortal’s strength and keep her from slipping into death. Herb hadn’t known this woman well enough to forge such a bond. He didn’t care for her, therefore she was completely alone during this difficult changeover. Pity suddenly overwhelmed Woodrow. Whether he liked it or not, this woman needed him. In spite of his better judgment, he could not abandon her. For what seemed like hours he held her body firmly in place. Her every moan and shudder ripped through him. Finally, she lay still. Burying his face in the hollow of her neck, he closed his eyes. By the sound of birds chirping in the church rafters across the street, he knew it was dawn. The slow, strong beat of the woman’s heart filled him, and he actually smiled. Her scent was now distinctly vampiric. If he could see, he knew her expression would be one of peace, as she was lost in the deep, exhausted sleep that followed the change. For the first time, he became aware of her curves pressed intimately against him. Her body was trim, yet her breasts were full and soft. Their legs were entwined and their pelvises seemed to fit together perfectly. Woodrow’s cock stiffened where it nestled between their bodies. “God,” he breathed, pushing himself off her and walking to the bathroom. Peeling off his shirt, he dropped it in the hamper and dampened another cloth. He returned to the woman and sat beside her, cleaning dried sweat and spit from her face. When he finished washing her, he gently ran his fingertips from her forehead to her chin. His sensitive pads learned the shape of her features. He saw her through his sense of touch and as he did, the oddest feeling tugged at his heart. To him, she was beautiful. Her eyebrows were sleek, narrow, and arched in the center. Her lashes were long and thick. In spite of her full face, her cheekbones were prominent. Never had he felt such soft, perfectly formed lips. Her short, snubbed nose tantalized his fingertips. The sudden urge to kiss her nearly overwhelmed him.

“Crazy.” He stood and returned to the bathroom. “She’s just a child, Woodrow. You need to find Herb so he can do his duty by her. She is not yours to touch, kiss, or teach.” Stripping off the rest of his clothes, Woodrow turned on the shower faucet and stepped beneath the steady stream of warm water. He scrubbed her fluids from his skin, yet her scent seemed to have become a part of him. Clean, he dried himself and tugged on his robe. After dressing, he checked on the woman once more. Since she was still deeply asleep, he decided to hurry across the street for some of that Chinese food he had wanted earlier that night.

Chapter Two

Dechrista awoke to a stale taste in her mouth and a barrage of strange scents. Opening her eyes, she glanced around the room. The bed on which she lay was large with a dark wooden frame. A Celtic harp stood beside the matching dresser across the room. Beneath the half open window to Dechrista’s left was a round table with two chairs. A guitar rested in a stand by one of the chairs. The aroma of sandalwood and another more powerful and alluring scent that she couldn’t place filled the room. The little brass clock on the night table ticked so loudly that it seemed to echo inside her head. “My God.” She sat up, her entire body tingling with energy. The sensation was better than the effects of any drug she had ever tried, yet drugs were the only explanation for what she imagined about the night before. What a strange trip. While mingling at one of her favorite haunts, she had met a cute guy who shared her taste in drugs and alcohol. What had they talked about? Vampires. He said he could make her one and she told him to go ahead and try. After that, the entire night was a blank. Had he finally worn her out? Had he given her some kind of weird drug that knocked her unconscious? Dechrista had no idea. Pushing herself out of bed, she sat with her legs dangling over the edge and drew several deep, cleansing breaths. Where the hell was she? This wasn’t the apartment he’d brought her to last night, or was it? Her memories were foggy enough that he could have stuck her on a plane to China and she wouldn’t have known the difference. Come to think of it, the underlying scent of fried rice drifted through the room. Running her tongue over her teeth, she jumped, shocked that she pricked her herself. Damn. She hoped she hadn’t broken a tooth or something. Maybe the guy had gone nuts and attacked her. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time someone had given her a crack in the face. Still, she felt surprisingly good for a woman who had guzzled a bottle of vodka, had sex with a nut who thought he was a vampire, and been slapped around by the same wacko afterwards. She walked to the bathroom, hoping to get a look at her face to see how much damage had been done. No mirror hung over the sink or behind the door. An odd feeling crept into her gut as she returned to the bedroom and looked around again. There wasn’t a mirror in the entire place.

Vampires can’t see themselves in mirrors. “Get a grip, Dechrista. There’s no such thing as vampires.” More memories formed in her muddled brain. Closing her eyes, she recalled sickness from the night before. It had been awful. Dry heaves. Uncontrollable muscle spasms. A fever so high she thought she might spontaneously combust. “It was a bad trip. That’s all.” She ran a hand through her hair and returned to the bathroom where she washed her face and rinsed her mouth. What she wouldn’t give for a toothbrush. After undressing, she stepped into the shower. The warm water soothed her and washed away the old sweat, dried semen, and God knew what else. One of these days, she would have to get a hold of her life and stop living like a pig. Still, with her mind foggy from drugs and alcohol, it was easy to forget reality, and reality absolutely sucked. Sucked. Funny that she should choose that word after spending a night with Count Dracula. No, Count Herb. What kind of vampire called himself Herb? Tilting her face toward the steady stream of water, she suddenly recalled another man besides Herb. He was older and savagely handsome with chiseled cheekbones, finely drawn lips, and terrifying eyes. They were dark eyes, fringed with thick lashes, yet they seemed to stare right through her. They never shifted and scarcely blinked. Remembering the handsome man with the strange eyes sent a shiver of fear down her spine. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, staring warily around the bathroom while she dried off. The powerful, indefinable scent that she had noticed earlier grew stronger. Footsteps and the scraping of wood on wood echoed in the corridor, then stopped outside the room. The door creaked open. Dechrista waited, her hands trembling and heart pounding. “Hello,” called a deep, almost musical voice. “Are you all right?” “Y -- yes.” “Come out. I brought you food. We need to talk.” “Who the hell are you and where am I? Where’s Herb.” “Herb left last night. He asked me to look after you.” Look after? Annoyance pushed aside her fear. No one had ever looked after her and she certainly didn’t need help now. This guy was probably a pimp looking to make money off her ass. “Forget it. I’ll be out of here in two minutes.” She tugged her clothes on and stepped into the room. Her stomach seemed to drop to the floor when she noticed the wickedly handsome guy with the strange eyes. Tonight he wore dark glasses, yet something about him still unsettled her. “I hope you like Chinese food,” he said.

Though he didn’t appear to have difficulty walking, he carried a weird black cane, the top of it carved into the shape of a ruby-eyed snake. He must think the cane looked cool and added to the weirdo image he cultivated. Still, for a guy with a face like a Gothic dream, he dressed conservatively in a charcoal suit and a cream colored tie. Beneath the tailored clothes, his tall body looked lean and strong. Damn, he was fine looking, but any guy that pretty and well dressed had to be gay. “Who are you, anyway? Some friend of Herb’s?” “I’m his creator.” Dechrista curled her lip and stared. “His creator?” “Yes. I made him a vampire, just as he made you one.” “No.” Dechrista held up her hands and edged her way to the door. “Not this vampire shit again. I know you guys are into the blood fetish thing, but for me last night was a one-time deal. Thanks for letting me crash here, but I have to go. Say goodbye to Herb for me.” “Wait.” He braced a hand against the door so she couldn’t open it. “Herb said you wanted the change.” “Get out of my way.” “Then you don’t know what’s happened to you?” “I had a bad trip and went home with a psycho. No offense, if you’re into that blood drinking thing too.” “My dear, you are also into the blood drinking thing.” “No.” Dechrista tried to meet his gaze through the dark glasses. “I’m not. Now let me the fuck out of here before I scream my damn head off!” “Please don’t. I heard enough of your screaming last night.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Shit. Did I do it with both you and Herb?” “I assure you, young lady, you and I did nothing. I stayed with you through the change so you wouldn’t injure yourself, but --” “You stayed with me? Then Iwas sick last night?” “Everyone goes through it when we become immortal.” “I told you I am not a vampire! Don’t you think I would know if some supernatural change took place in my body?” “Then you don’t feel any different than yesterday?” “I feel great. Better than ever.” Dechrista paused a moment, her brow furrowing. Why did she feel so fantastic? Her mind was clearer than it had been in years. Too clear. Her entire wasted life seemed to crash around her. Damn, she needed a drink. “Where are we exactly?”

“A club called Burgundy Peak.” “Club? Can I get a drink here?” “Of course.” “Great.” “Why don’t we eat first? We can talk over the meal.” “Talk about what?” “About our kind.” Dechrista closed her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t do this. You seem like a nice guy, but I’m telling you I don’t want anything to do with that kind of sex.” “This isn’t about sex. It’s about survival. A change has taken place within you. If you choose to remain ignorant, you will not only endanger yourself but others.” Dechrista’s pulse quickened. This guy was truly a space cadet. She had known all kinds of strange people in her time, but he had every one of them beat. He really believed in vampires. “Good Lord, woman, if you’ve noticed nothing else then how do you explain your fangs?” “F -- fangs?” Dechrista raised her fingertips to her teeth and winced. Glancing at her fingers, she noted drops of blood where the flesh had been pierced. Almost before her eyes, the tiny wounds healed. “God, this can’t be real. I need to get myself to a rehab.” “That won’t be necessary. Any drugs that were in your system have been flushed out by the change.” “That would be a good thing if I actually wanted to quit!” “Drugs are useless.” “Have you ever tried them?” “I have no desire to dull my mind. The sensations of life are meant to be explored, endured, and enjoyed.” Dechrista knew she wouldn’t get anywhere by trying to reason with this guy, so she attempted a different tactic, one that never failed with men. Stepping closer, she slid her hands up his chest. Damn, he was built like a rock. His pecs were hard and sleek. “If I give you some sensations to enjoy, will you let me out of this room?” He pushed her away. “There’s an extra toothbrush in the middle bathroom drawer. Use it.” Dechrista actually blushed. Practicing oral hygiene might be a good thing before trying to seduce a classy guy like this. Most of the men she hung around smelled like a brewery morning, noon, and night, so they never noticed a little bad breath.

As she walked to the bathroom, she wondered why she was doing exactly what he told her. She should have taken the opportunity to breathe in his face to distract him into throwing her out. Instead, she had the strange desire to impress him. In the drawer, she found a couple of toothbrushes still in their packaging, a tube of spearmint flavored toothpaste, dental floss, a tongue scraper, and a travel sized mouthwash. The guy must be obsessive-compulsive to have all that shit just to clean his mouth. “What’s your name?” she called in between brushing. “Woodrow Quint.” “Can I call you Woody?” He growled, a rather sexy sound. Giggling, she spat in the sink, then stuck her head out the door and glanced at him. He sat at the table, removing cardboard cartons of Chinese food from a paper bag. The fried rice, spare ribs, and vegetables smelled delicious. She must have been hungry because she could discern just about every spice used to flavor the food. Another unsettling feeling pulsed through her. Not only had her sense of smell increased, but she suddenly realized she could see quite clearly, though it was after dark and none of the lights in the apartment were turned on. Could it be true? Was she a vampire? Impossible. “Why aren’t there any mirrors in this apartment, Woody?” “Because they do me no good.” A chill ran down her spine. “Because you’re a vampire?” “No, because I’m blind.” “Blind?” she murmured and wiped her face with a towel before stepping into the next room. “You didn’t notice?” “No. Not really. I guess the glasses and the cane should have been a clue. I just didn’t expect to see a blind guy with a snakehead cane, but I suppose to each his own, huh?” “Why don’t you have something to eat?” Running her tongue over her clean teeth, she approached the table. “I really should go.” I’m telling you the truth about vampirism. She jumped, her heart racing. He hadn’t spoken a word, yet she heard his voice in her mind. I’m using telepathy. Our kind have strong mind powers. In time, you will learn to use yours.

Dechrista lifted a hand and waved it several times in front of his face to see if he would notice. If he really was blind, then she should be able to get to the door without him realizing it. I can’t see, but my other senses are formidable and my telepathy is extremely powerful. You cannot leave without me knowing it, Dechrista. “So I’m your prisoner?” She hoped he would have no idea what she was talking about. At least that would mean she was imagining the telepathic conversation. “You are not my prisoner, and everything you’re experiencing is real, far more real than the drug induced hallucinations you’ve indulged in for too long.” “What do you know about my life? I just met you and that weirdo Herb last night. Speaking of Herb, where did he go? Or does he go out and abduct women for you?” Woodrow’s lips twisted into an annoyed smile. “I do not abduct women. You are not a prisoner. Herb irresponsibly made you into a vampire and I am trying to make good on his mistake.” “You’re doing me a favor, is that it?” “Young lady, you have no concept of the danger you play with. An untrained vampire is as dangerous as any serial killer.” “I am no killer. I’m no vampire, for that matter. Sure, I do some drugs every now and then. I like to drink. Yeah, I’ve been a prostitute, but I am not into murder. If you’re not holding me here against my will, I’m going.” “You may return at any time, and I will help you.” Dechrista stared at him, her pulse racing and her senses so sharp that her head ached. He was certifiable. Worst of all, he really believed he could help her. She hurried to the door and opened it, glancing at him over her shoulder. Something deep inside told her that maybe, just maybe, he was telling the truth. Vampires are not real. Halfway down the hall, his voice echoed in her mind.Yes, young lady. Vampires are very real . She raced down the stairs. In the foyer, she paused, a chill winding its way through her when she came face to face with a tall, muscular black man with piercing reddish eyes. “No way,” she breathed and hurried out the door. Glancing up at the building behind her, she noticed a sign etched in crimson and black that read Burgundy Peak. Bar, Dancing, and Members Only Escort Service. *** Dechrista’s thoughts spun with her strange encounter with members of a vampire subculture she had only heard about. She thought she’d met just about every kind of weirdo, but this was unprecedented. The memory of Woodrow’s voice in her head still sent shivers down her spine. Though she didn’t believe for

an instant he was a vampire, she knew he had some kind of psychic power. She’d watched a television show about people who could communicate telepathically or move objects with their minds. He was obviously one of them who had lost his grip on reality. Suddenly she realized how lucky she was to be alive. Pausing and leaning her forehead against the side of a building, she welcomed the cold roughness of the brick against her skin. Thank God he had let her go. Maybe this was some kind of wake up call for her to straighten out her life. The old saying was right. If you play with fire, you’re going to get burned. From now on, she’d ease up on the drugs and booze. Maybe she’d really buckle down and pursue a singing career. “Right, Dechrista.” She laughed. “As if you’ll ever do more than sing with a second rate band in a third rate shit hole.” Speaking of third rate shit holes, she was probably late for work. She waited tables at a bar across town. Recently, she had convinced the owner to let her band perform a couple of times a week. If she didn’t show up, she might just blow their chances, and she had worked too hard blowing the owner for the opportunity to give it up because of her “vampire” situation. Luck must have been with her, because she arrived at the bar just before her shift began. Stepping into the restroom, she paused in front of the mirror, relieved that she could still see her reflection. “So much for the vampire bullshit.” She smiled, revealing two small, pointed fangs. “Oh God.” Leaning closer to the mirror, she inspected her teeth carefully. There had to be an explanation. While she was unconscious, they screwed around with her teeth. People who were into the Gothic lifestyle had their teeth reconstructed all the time, didn’t they? That’s all it was. Eventually, when she had the money, she’d have them filed down. The best thing to do was forget last night ever happened. Soon she was so busy waiting on tables that she stopped thinking about Herb and Woodrow. The evening seemed to fly by. She didn’t even realize her shift was over until the owner called her aside. “What’s up with you, Dechrista? Not that I care, but you haven’t even taken a break all night.” He was right. Even after hours on her feet fighting off serious come-ons from scumbags and flirting with others to encourage bigger tips, she didn’t feel the least bit tired. She was hungry and thirsty, though. Remembering the Chinese food Woodrow had offered her, her stomach growled with hunger and her pulse raced with fear. Just thinking about the man terrified her, yet at the same time aroused her. Why did the sexiest man she’d ever met have to be a lunatic? “Don’t know, Jack.” “Since you got extra energy tonight, how about coming into the back room with me?” Dechrista drew a deep breath and held Jack’s watery blue gaze. She wasn’t in the mood to close her eyes and pretend to enjoy fucking him. Not tonight. “You know, I was talking to a guy who’s interested in your band’s Friday night spot.” Rage boiled inside her. For the first time, she wanted to tell him to shove the spot up his ass. What the

hell was wrong with her? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t spent the past several months encouraging him. Still, it had been a lot easier to fool around with him when her mind was muddled by drugs. “What do you say, baby?” Jack’s dirty fingertips stroked her upper arm. Her rent was due at the end of the week. If she lost this job, she’d lose her apartment. “Sure, Jack. Why not?” Together, they wove their way through the crowded bar and into a dusty, moldy smelling storeroom. Closing the door, Jack grinned at her over his shoulder. Moments later, she was on her knees sucking his cock. Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to imagine someone who appealed to her. It was impossible when her newly heightened senses were assaulted by the reek of his unwashed dick, the disgusting echo of his grunts and moans, and the painful tightening of his hands on her scalp. “Hey!” She pulled away suddenly. “Ease up on my hair before you yank it all out.” “You know you like it, Dechrista.” Grasping her shoulders, he dragged her to her feet and shoved her against the wall. He jerked up her mini-dress with one hand while yanking down her panties with his other. His rancid breath struck her in the face and she gagged. Once again thoughts of Woodrow and his drawer full of oral care utensils popped into her mind. That man was so clean that he squeaked. His own sensual musk was accentuated by the aroma of soap, shampoo, cologne, and spearmint toothpaste. Guaranteed his cock would be a pleasure to suck. “That’s enough, Jack.” She thrust her pelvis forward in an attempt to throw him off. It only seemed to excite him more. “Stop it!” “You’ve got to be shitting me?” He licked her ear and pinned her hands to the wall. “I said stop!” Dechrista only meant to push him away, yet somehow her boss landed atop several boxes of tequila. Glass shattered and the scent of alcohol filled the room. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jack’s stunned gaze fixed on her. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, his hands cut and his clothes soaked with liquor. “Are you okay? Jack, I didn’t mean to --” “Get the fuck out of here. I never want to see your face around here again.” Trembling, Dechrista tried to open the door, but he had locked it. Cursing, she pushed harder. The door burst open, hanging from one of its hinges. “What the fuck?” Jack’s voice sounded shrill. “What are you on, you crazy bitch?” Several patrons and waitresses stared at her in surprise. The club’s dim lights suddenly seemed far too bright and the music painfully loud. Worst of all were the drumbeats. It sounded like fifty drums were pounding at once, all in different rhythms. As she glanced around the room, dazed, a horrible reality struck her. She wasn’t hearing drumbeats, but heartbeats. The heartbeats of everyone in the club echoed in her ears. “No,” she murmured, clamping her hands over her ears and racing out of the club. “No! No! No! It’s

not real.” Yet deep inside, she knew the truth. The changes in her body were undeniable. She was turning into someone else,something else, and she had no idea how to help herself. Assaulted by sensation, Dechrista ran down the street until someone called her name. She paused, her heart pounding, and turned toward a familiar face -- Karl, a college student who worked part time at the all night convenience store several blocks away. A blush staining his pale cheeks. “Hey, are you okay?” “Sure.” She forced a smile. “You were running and you looked… upset.” “Hey, you know me. The glass is always half empty.” Why did she have to use that expression? It provoked thoughts of drinking and such thoughts reminded her of how damn thirsty she was. “Are you still working?” He blushed again. “Why?” Stepping closer, she slipped her arms around his neck and gazed into his eyes. They were warm brown and innocent. He was probably the last male virgin left on the planet. That was one of the reasons she enjoyed teasing him so much. “Want to give me some business?” He drew a deep breath and she actually heard his heartbeat quicken. His scent grew stronger, filling her, and she had the strangest urge to lick his throat. “I can’t, Dechrista.” “Sure you can, baby.” She held his gaze. “You afraid that I might bite or something?” “I…” The poor guy stared at her as if in a trance. A quick glance at the front of his baggy jeans revealed a decent bulge. Smiling, she touched her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes, his heart thrumming faster. Damn, he wanted her. She could almost hear his voice in her head, begging to plunge deep inside her pussy. “Come on, baby.” She took his hand. “Let’s go to your place.” “I don’t… I need to get protection.” Grinning, she whipped a condom from her pocket. “Tools of the trade.” “This isn’t right. I mean, I need to study.” “I could help you.” Why the hell was she pushing the issue? Was it just because she needed the money now that she’d lost her job at the bar? No. Something else drew her to him. Leaning closer, she licked the side of his neck. The flesh tasted salty and warm. A shiver ran through him and his cock poked against her belly. Reaching down, she unzipped his jeans and slid her hand inside. He

wore cotton briefs. Not particularly sexy, but what was inside them made up for it. This shy little bookworm had a cock that a porn star would kill for. Feeling for the flap in his briefs, she freed his cock and curled her fist around his silken girth. She pumped a few times and he gasped, his hips thrusting slightly forward. He reached down and restrained her motions. Though his gaze burned into hers, he removed her hand and struggled to zip up his jeans. No simple task with a monster like his. The urge to lick his flesh was almost overwhelming. Why did she suddenly want to taste this guy all over? It wasn’t as if he turned her on. As much as she liked him in a friendly way and would have taken him as a customer, he was not her type. “Damn,” he panted, his face tinged red, though she couldn’t tell if it was from shame or lust. “Not in the street.” “How about it, Karl? Take me home with you.” Those chocolate colored eyes met hers for a moment before he raised a trembling hand and ran it through his reddish blond hair. “I must be nuts. I live right over there.” He pointed to an apartment house down the street. During the walk to his place, she was intensely aware of him. His scent and the rhythm of his breath cried out to her. The taste of his flesh on her tongue stirred her in a way she didn’t understand. In the back of her mind, she imagined sinking her teeth into his flesh and tasting his blood. The thought terrified her so much that she buried it. Even if she was a vampire, she still had to survive. If she couldn’t be around people, especially customers, what the hell was she going to do? Inside the house, he led her up a flight of creaky steps and unlocked the door to his apartment. He switched on the light and she squinted against it. “You okay?” he asked. “Sure. Just a little headache.” “Oh. Damn.” Disappointment shone on his face. “I mean, I understand if you’ve changed your mind.” “No. That’s not it.” Glancing around the apartment, she noted that it was fairly neat, except for some clothes tossed around and piles of books everywhere. “Um, Dechrista, do I…” She leaned closer since his voice had faded so much that even with her enhanced hearing she couldn’t discern what he said. “Huh?” Blushing again, he slipped off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. “Do I pay you now?” Dechrista slipped her arms around his neck. “Later is fine.” What the hell was she saying? Never, never, never did she refuse money up front. At that moment the money was secondary. All she wanted was to taste his throat again.

Glancing through the open door across the room, she saw his unmade bed and knew she didn’t want to wait another second. “Come on, stud.” She grasped his hand and tugged him to the bedroom. “Shouldn’t we talk or something first?” “We talk at the store all the time.” “Yes, but --” She shoved him onto the bed, tore off her clothes, and straddled him, silencing him with a kiss. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, thrusting and exploring. While he didn’t taste bad, he certainly didn’t turn her on, until his tongue scraped against one of her sharp teeth. His blood sent a rush of energy and lust through her, turning her nipples to red hot marbles and her pussy to molten lava. “Mmm.” He pushed her away slightly and touched his tongue to his hand. “Cut myself a little.” Growling deep in her throat, Dechrista tore his shirt open. His body was pretty good. Lean. Toned. Unfortunately he had no chest hair. “Looks like you got time to keep yourself in shape between classes, Karl.” “I’m getting my business degree. I want my own… dance… school…” His voice kept fading as she licked every bit of his flesh from neck to navel. Dance? She never would have guessed shy boy had it in him. By the time she unzipped him, his cock looked ready to explode. She pulled off his shoes, socks, and jeans. Stretched out naked, he gazed at her with a drugged expression while she rolled a condom on him. With every touch of her hands, his cock seemed to increase in size. The earlier taste of his blood had incited her desire and licking him all over had spurred it on more. If only more than his blood turned her on. Suddenly her thoughts drifted to Woodrow. Now there was a guy who could probably make her come just by telling her to. Closing her eyes, she straddled Karl while imagining it was Woodrow beneath her. It was his cock, his tall, powerful body, his -“Oh, Dechrista,” Karl breathed, ruining the moment. She nearly jumped off him and ran for the door, then she saw the euphoric expression on his face and knew this was the first time any woman had ever fucked him. She might be a bitch, but she wasn’t rotten enough to do that to him. This guy was so shy he might develop a fear of women for the rest of his life. If she licked him again, it wouldn’t be so bad. Leaning forward, she slid her tongue over his throat. He trembled beneath her, his heart pounding so loud that if she concentrated too hard it nearly deafened her. His cock seemed to grow even bigger and harder. Moaning with need, he ran his hands over her ribs and up her back, his touch surprisingly gentle for a guy this turned on. Dechrista rocked faster and he clutched her waist, lifting his hips to the rhythm of her motions. His head arched back, every tendon in his neck straining. She traced the length of a prominent artery and her eyes slipped shut as her lust rekindled. Lapping his neck in time with her

rocking hips, she drifted in a reddish haze. A voice inside her seemed to whisper, bite him. Bite him and it will be so much better. The thirst was nearly choking her. “Dechrista, oh! I can’t… I…” Karl panted hard, his hips lunging upward with savage thrusts. Her nipples rubbed against his smooth chest and her fangs rested against the side of his neck, almost breaking the skin. Just the thought of tasting his blood made her quiver with need. Her clit throbbed and ached. This was too much to stand. Lifting her head, she parted her lips and prepared for the kill. The kill! No! “Ah! Ahh! Dechrista!” With a final thrust, he came. Leaping off him, Dechrista stood, her entire body burning for blood, and watched him climax so long and hard that come sprayed him from throat to thigh. Rather than fading, the desire to drink his blood increased to a fever pitch. She tugged on her clothes quickly. “Dechrista, where are you going? What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “I owe you --” “It’s a freebee.” Karl stood and reached for her, but she shoved him so hard that he landed on his back. She hissed at him, the animal-like gesture startling her. Panting, he stared at her with wide eyes, and she suddenly realized that her fangs must be visible. “Your eyes,” he whispered. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” A glance in the mirror to her left revealed her glistening red gaze. “Allergies,” she murmured. “I’m sorry, Karl, but I have to go.” Not waiting for his reply, she rushed out of the apartment, consumed by bloodlust and terrified of what sort of life she had fallen into.

Chapter Three

“Come in,” Woodrow said before Onan knocked on the door. “You let her go?” Woodrow’s fingers plucked at the strings of his most prized possession, his Celtic harp. He had always used music to help him focus. After dealing with Herb and Dechrista, he needed to relax and think calmly. The last thing he wanted was to defend his teaching methods to Onan. Nearly as arrogant as Zigor, Onan considered himself their Master’s favorite. He was old and experienced, therefore he believed he knew everything about vampirism. “You can’t force someone to learn, Onan. When she’s ready, she’ll come to me.” “Will that be before or after she kills? You know what vampire killings will do to this city. Within the past month we’ve already had an incident with hunters. If word gets out that one of us is draining people to death, we’ll have to close the club.” “Maybe I should have asked Master Zigor to chain her up in the great room with no food or blood and a bright light in her face.” “I wouldn’t recommend depriving her of blood, however the rest of your suggestion makes sense.” Woodrow dragged his fingers across the strings, creating a most horrible sound before he stood and folded his arms across his chest. “I was being sarcastic, Onan.” “I refuse to accept insolence from one so young.” “Then there’s the door. You’re not my Master. I’ve raised eighteen children in the past two hundred years. How many have you guided in your three thousand?” “It is quality, Woodrow, not quantity that matters.” “There’s nothing wrong with my children.” “I must agree that you have done well with seventeen of them. Then there is the problem of Herb.” Woodrow walked to the window and placed a hand on the cool glass. “Herb needs to mature.” “Herb will never mature. I admit, you are not completely at fault. It is his nature that damns him, but you must remember that Herb fathered this woman. Part of him is inside her. Not only that, she doesn’t seem like a stable person. Vampirism is a wonderful yet dangerous gift. In the wrong hands, it is as terrible as any of those pathetic mortal horror films portray it to be.” “The thing about guiding people, Onan, is you can’t force them to accept your teachings.” “Of course you can. In my day, I led armies. Soldiers do as they are told. They do without questioning.” “She is not a soldier, nor do I want her to be. Do you know what’s dangerous? A vampire who can’t think for himself. One who is programmed with another’s beliefs. If the Master says kill, he kills. If the Master says hate mortals, then he hates mortals. If the Master says --” “Enough,” Onan growled. “I understand. I just came to warn you that should the woman do something

that affects our lives here, we will hold you responsible. Some of us have a worse wrath than others.” “I’m very familiar with the wrath of vampires.” Woodrow turned to Onan. Though he couldn’t see him, the action always seemed to make his words more impressive to those with vision. “I’ve had to defend my very existence from the beginning, so I have no fear of confrontation.” “I know.” Onan drew a deep breath and walked to the door. “That is what concerns me most.” A brief look into Onan’s mind surprised Woodrow. The ancient felt genuine concern for the younger man’s welfare. The door clicked shut and Onan’s scent faded. Woodrow didn’t have time to concern himself with Onan’s warning or advice. He needed to connect with Dechrista and find out how she was faring. He didn’t doubt that soon she would require his assistance, and he wanted to be close at hand when she did. Using their telepathic connection, he found her quickly. Her mind was fresh and unfocused, making her easy to locate. Fear. Anger. Confusion. Absolute panic. Well, it seemed she would need him sooner than he thought. He slipped into his coat and picked up his cane, then left Burgundy Peak to trail her. *** Dechrista’s heart pounded as she hurried down the dark, empty street several blocks from her apartment. In spite of what her common sense told her, the only explanation that seemed reasonable for the night’s events was Woodrow’s crazy story about vampirism. Not only did she have the teeth of a pit bull and the strength of a wrestler, but she had nearly ripped out the throat of a halfway decent guy. Damn Woodrow and double damn that fucking loser Herb! Just when she thought her luck couldn’t get any worse, several strong, new scents assaulted her. Low growls and cat-calls echoed in the otherwise silent street. “Mmm, look here, guys. We got us a brand new vampiress on our block.” Dechrista gasped as two men jumped from the top of a nearby house. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed three others emerging from an alley. “You bring out the animal in me, baby.” One of the men, tall and sable-haired, stepped closer to her, reaching out to grasp her chin. “Out of my way.” Dechrista shoved him even harder than she had pushed Jack. Instead of crashing to the pavement, this man laughed, exposing sharp, glistening fangs. “For someone invading our territory, you’re not being very nice.” A muscular blond with an even bigger set of fangs dragged her to his chest and licked her neck. Instinctively, Dechrista turned her head and savagely bit his cheek.

“Bitch!” The blond shoved her so hard that she would have fallen had another of his burly companions not caught her. Dechrista fought him with all of her strength, kicking, biting, and clawing at his face. Her knee rammed his groin, and she broke free of his hold only to be captured by the others. Two of them knocked her to the ground and held her arms and legs while the sable-haired one straddled her hips and unzipped his jeans. Bucking hard, Dechrista hurled him off and freed one of her legs. Four of the monsters pinned her while the sable-haired vampire prepared for a second attempt at rape. Before he could begin, a cane cracked across his head. He turned to see who had struck him, and a thin silver sword slashed his cheek. Screaming and covering his bloody face with his hands, he rolled off Dechrista. Woodrow’s cane and sword hissed as they whipped through the air, knocking all four of Dechrista’s attackers onto their backs. Springing to their feet, they focused their fury on Woodrow who stood, his weapons poised. Though grateful to see him, Dechrista felt the unaccustomed emotion of concern. What the hell was a blind vampire going to do against five with all their senses? The group sprang at Woodrow. Acting on impulse, Dechrista leapt onto the back of the closest one, the blond. Growling savagely, she ripped her nails across his eyes and sank her fangs into his neck. His blood filled her mouth. Though her first thought was to spit out the blood, instinct prompted her to swallow it. The hot, spicy taste teased her tongue and lips. “Get off!” The blond grasped her hair and flung her onto her back, a good portion of his flesh tearing away in her teeth. She spat it out and rolled aside before his foot smashed her abdomen. Before he attacked again, the silver blade pressed against his chest. Stunned, he lifted his hands, his gaze fixed on Woodrow. Dechrista noticed her savior’s coat sleeve was torn and soaked with blood. The red elixir trickled from the corner of his mouth. The other vampires had disappeared, frightened off by Woodrow. Suddenly, the blond leapt backwards and bolted out of the alley with supernatural speed. Panting, Dechrista pushed herself to her feet and glanced at Woodrow who stood cleaning off his blade with a handkerchief. “I don’t believe this.” She wiped her lips on the back of her hand, stunned by the smear of blood. The taste of it still burned her mouth and throat. A wild, energetic feeling pulsed through her, similar to when she had tasted that drop of Karl’s blood. She took a step toward Woodrow, who sheathed the blade inside the cane. The walking aid was actually a secret holder for the deadly silver weapon. Clever. No, more than clever. He was absolutely amazing. “Are you all right?” “Yes. And you?” “How did you know where I was? How did you fight off those guys when you’re --” “I told you, my other senses as well as my telepathy are even more powerful than those of most other vampires. It’s like compensation for me.” Squinting against the brightening sky, Dechrista wanted nothing more than to curl up in a dark room and sleep. “My skin stings,” she said, glancing at her tingling hands.

“It’s the sunlight. None of us like it. Follow me.” “Follow you where?” “To the church across the street.” “We can go in a church?” “Of course.” “Aren’t we supposed to be afraid of religious stuff?” “That’s why you need a teacher, so you can separate fact from fiction.” “Woodrow, you don’t know what I did earlier. I almost bit this guy I know. What if I had done it and killed him?” “Don’t worry. We’ll work on mastering the hunger.” They hurried up the wide stone steps and entered the church. Dechrista tensed, glancing warily around the room from the stained glass windows to the crucifix above the altar. For some reason she had expected to burst into flames or turn to ash. Woodrow chuckled. “Told you there’s nothing to worry about.” “Do you plan on staying here all day? Won’t the priests get suspicious?” “The pastor’s a friend. I make a point to get to know at least one priest in every city I visit. Comes in handy for times like this. Also, if you’re having trouble with hunters, churches are great to hide in. Most of them believe we have a fear of anything religious.” “And we don’t?” He shrugged. “Some can’t seem to tolerate religious objects, but it’s mind over matter.” “Yeah?” “If you believe you’re evil, then you’ll act evilly.” “You make it sound easy.” “It is.” “I can believe I’m rich, but that don’t mean I am.” He laughed. “But if you see yourself as rich, then you can work toward that goal.” “That’s easy for someone like you to say.” “Hold that thought. Father, how are you?”

“Woodrow?” A middle-aged priest wearing a friendly smile stepped into the church. “It has been a while.” As the priest approached, Woodrow held out his hand to shake. This has to be some kind of nightmare. Vampires and priests acting like old friends. The priest’s brow furrowed upon noting Woodrow’s bloody face and clothes. “What happened?” “We had an accident. This is Dechrista. She’s learning to adjust to her new lifestyle and I was hoping we could wait out the day here.” “Another one, Woodrow?” The priest lifted a hand to Dechrista’s cheek. She stepped away from his touch. “Don’t be afraid. I know what you’re going through.” Placing a hand on her hip, she didn’t try disguising her annoyance. “I ain’t afraid of nothing.” “Except politeness.” Woodrow grasped her hand a bit too tightly. “The thought of acting like a lady terrifies her, but we’re going to work on that.” “We are?” “Unless we would like to be back out in the sunlight.” Dechrista forced a smile. “Sorry, Father.” “Woodrow, I thought you promised me you would stop increasing your number?” the priest scolded. “I thought we were making progress.” “We are, Father. She’s the offspring of another. I’ve taken her as a student.” “Well, if she is to exist, then she can have no better teacher. You may wait in the back room, as always. I’ll bring you some bandages.” “Thank you.” Once they were alone in a small, windowless room on the church’s upper level, Dechrista sat in a chair across from Woodrow and asked, “What was that all about?” “I chose to confide in Father Thomas because his mind was open. He’s a good man, though a bit naive. As long as he believes I’m trying to abandon my evil ways, he’s willing to help me convert.” “Evil ways? But you said --” “I’m no more evil than any other man, but if it makes him feel secure thinking he’s helping me, then so be it. And his friendship comes in handy for times like this.” “I’m still having trouble believing all this.” “It’s not easy when the change takes you by surprise. Herb should have been more careful. I’ll give you

the basics, then you can at least function on a night to night basis. You must avoid silver and sunlight.” “How about stakes through the heart?” “That would kill a rhino, let alone a vampire.” She laughed. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. How about garlic? Can it hurt us?” “Only if you chew a clove before a French kiss.” “You know, I never would have believed you have a sense of humor.” Father Thomas stepped into the room with the promised antiseptic and bandages. “Do you need help?” “No.” Dechrista dragged her chair closer to Woodrow’s. “I can help him out.” Woodrow turned his face toward her. His pulse quickened audibly and his scent grew stronger. Instinctively, she knew those subtle changes meant one thing. Lust. Her heartbeat increased too, lured by the thought of possibly sleeping with him. Moments later, his pulse and scent returned to normal. To her annoyance, hers remained strong. Damn it, Dechrista. Get control of yourself. Maybe if she concentrated on helping him with his injury, she would forget about sex. Not a chance. He’d removed his coat and the jacket beneath. She moistened her lips as he tugged off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and shrugged it off. Oh damn. Sitting there in a white tank top, he was built like an athlete. Broad shoulders and a powerful chest narrowed to a lean waist and flat abs. His arms were long and well muscled, the forearms lightly dusted with the same dark hair as on his chest. “Where’s the antiseptic?” He held out his hand, which she nudged away. “I’ll do it.” Dampening a wad of cotton with alcohol, she began cleaning blood from his arm. Four rather deep gashes still oozed blood. “This is going to hurt.” He didn’t flinch as she scrubbed the injury. “I thought vampires could heal really fast,” she said, wrapping gauze around his arm. “We do, unless we’re injured by silver.” “One of those guys had a weapon?” “Silver knuckles, similar to brass knuckles. A strip of metal covered with leather fits between the vampire’s hand and four silver spikes over the fist. A crude weapon.” “But it works.” “It was a lucky shot. What other questions do you have about our kind?”

“Back to the garlic thing.” “Garlic can’t hurt us. As you know, we eat food as well as drink blood. The blood sustains and heals us.” “It tasted good.” “And that was the blood of someone who didn’t appeal to you.” Dechrista studied his face carefully, noting the sharpness of his cheekbones and the kissable shape of his lips. She crossed her legs to appease the carnal ache in her clit. What was it about this guy that turned her on so much? Maybe it was his air of confidence and power. The way he’d rescued her from those fanged thugs touched upon a womanly part of her she hadn’t even known existed. “You mean it would be even better if I liked the guy?” Tenderly, she used fresh gauze to clean blood from the corner of his mouth. “When you care for someone, the taste of their blood is incomparable.” “Really?” “And it makes you more powerful. It must be due to something in the emotional connection.” He leaned a bit closer, or perhaps she did. Warmth from his body seeped into hers. His breath caressed her lips. If she edged the slightest bit nearer, their lips would touch. Again she heard his pulse quicken and his sexy aroma filled her, intoxicating her. Suddenly he sat back. “Thanks for the help.” All right. There was the hint that whatever might have happened a second ago wasn’t going to happen now. Capping the alcohol and tossing the bloody bandages into a wastebasket, she decided to gather as much information as she could about what she had become. “Where do we come from exactly?” “I don’t know. Vampires have existed for as long as humanity, perhaps longer. Once we go through the change, we can no longer have children in the traditional manner. Our offspring are created through bite, but it’s a dangerous procedure. Not everyone survives. Success depends upon the experience of the vampiric creator. You were very lucky to have lived.” “I guess your friend Herb doesn’t have as much experience making other vampires as he has making it in bed.” “You were his first attempt.” “If I’m his offspring, how come you got stuck with me?” “He’s too immature to handle his responsibility, and I’m not stuck with you.” “Then why else are you here? You must have a reason.”

“When we return to Burgundy Peak, some people may try to tell you that Master Zigor threatened me into keeping you out of trouble, but that’s not the reason I’m here.” “Who the hell is Master Zigor?” “My creator. He owns Burgundy Peak. He’s what we call an ancient.” “Then he’s pretty old?” “So old that he no longer recalls everything about his own beginning.” Dechrista curled her lip. “Damn. Will that happen to me someday? I won’t remember this.” “I suppose if you live long enough.” He had the most adorable smile she’d ever seen. Though the idea of forgetting about her past almost seemed like a blessing, part of her hoped she would never forgot this moment with Woodrow. “What do you mean this guy Zigor threatened you?” “That’s not important because, as I said, it’s not the reason I’m here.” “Then why? Do you owe Herb a favor?” “No. Herb owes me many favors. I’m here, Dechrista, because I believe you have a lot of potential.” “Potential for what?” “Potential to do whatever you put your mind to.”

Chapter Four

Dechrista glanced at Woodrow as they walked along the sidewalk leading to Burgundy Peak. Shortly after arriving at the church, Dechrista had succumbed to the sleepiness that encompassed vampires during the daylight hours. At dusk, they had left the church and cleaned out her apartment. Her few belongings were picked up by a private car from Burgundy Peak and brought to Woodrow’s room at the club. She had been anxious to continue their conversation about vampirism, until he pissed her off by demanding she get rid of her drugs. “As long as you’re in my care, you will not use drugs or drink to excess.” “You’re not my father and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a child.” “Then stop acting like one. You agreed to accept my help.” “If it means being your slave, I’m not sure I want it anymore.”

“Would you prefer to learn about vampirism on the streets from the likes of the men who attacked you?” “I’ve been on my own since I was twelve. I survived.” “Aren’t you tired of just surviving? You have the chance to start a new life with absolutely no attachments to your past.” Though she wished she could argue with him, she didn’t want to. His offer was so tempting and far too good to be true. No one gave something for nothing. Eventually she’d owe him, no matter what he said about wanting to help her because she had potential. Right. As if anybody had ever seen any good in her other than in her body. Perhaps her body was what he’d demand in return for his help. That was a price she wouldn’t mind paying. In truth, she’d wanted to get in his pants since the first moment she saw him. “The only payment I ask is that you strive to reach your full potential.” Dechrista gritted her teeth. “Are you obsessed with reading my mind? A little privacy would be nice once in a while.” “I’m sorry. I’m trying to get you accustomed to telepathy.” His apology took her aback. She had expected another of his reprimands. For a guy who so often emanated lust in her presence, he found fault with just about everything she said and did. He didn’t like the way she talked or acted. He didn’t like her drugs, drinking, or promiscuous behavior. According to him, her apartment had been a pigsty and her choice in clothes less than acceptable. What the hell did he care what she dressed like? It wasn’t as if he could see her. She should have known better than to let him touch her outfits before they were packed up. “How does it work?” “Telepathy? It’s hard to explain. You need to learn how to focus.” Dechrista smiled nervously. “I’m afraid that’s not one of my strong points.” “You’ll learn.” “I’m looking forward to learning this telepathy thing. That way I can know what you’re thinking.” “Pique your interest, do I?” “Only because I want to know what you really expect to get out of this little arrangement.” “I don’t blame you for being skeptical. Time will confirm my intentions.” “Can I ask you another question, Woodrow?” “Of course.” “Is the snakehead on your cane some kind of vampire thing?” “No.”

“Then why do you have it?” His lips turned up in a slight grin. “Because I think it’s cool.” They reached Burgundy Peak and stepped into the foyer. *** As soon as they entered Burgundy Peak, Onan met them. “The Master wishes to meet your new student. Immediately.” “You guys might have a master, but I don’t.” “Dechrista, please. Now is not the time for another emotional outburst.” “I don’t care about impressing the Master.” “Burgundy Peak is the best and safest place I know to train you. Do not mess this up or I promise you will regret it.” “Are you threatening me?” He grasped her upper arm hard and dragged her through the closed door leading to the club area. “Yes. Now follow me and don’t speak until spoken to.” She tried pulling away from him, but he was too strong. Why are you acting like a foolish child? For once in your life do something for your own benefit. Anger burned inside her, and also a hint of shame. She wasn’t sure what she was trying to prove by rebelling, except that it was the only way she knew to retain her self-respect. She ceased struggling and glanced around the club. The vast room was dimly lit by candlelight, comfortable for vampiric eyes. Couples danced, people stood at the bar, and others enjoyed dinner at one of the many tables. Aside from the strong scent of blood, it seemed much like any other club. They stepped through a door at the back of the room and walked up a dark, narrow staircase. The pungent aroma of a fireplace mingled with two distinctly vampiric scents. One of the scents was strong, almost intoxicating. It made Dechrista a little dizzy. Instinctively, she edged closer to Woodrow. The slightest smile touched his lips. “It’s Master Zigor.” “It’s like nothing I’ve ever smelled before. Most of the other vampires still have something a little bit human in their scent.” “He’s an ancient among ancients. Little of his humanity remains.” Her breathing and heartbeat increased audibly as they neared the top of the stairs. Zigor’s scent filled Woodrow, as did the aroma of the Master’s wife, Melinda.

Reaching the top of the steps, they paused. “You may come in,” Zigor said. “Damn,” Dechrista murmured. “I’ve seen my share of dungeons, but this is like Dom heaven.” “Quiet, Dechrista.” Woodrow positioned his cane in front of him and rested both hands atop it. He turned in the direction of Master Zigor’s heartbeat. “Master, Mel, this is Dechrista Davis.” For a moment, all four were silent. Zigor approached, and Woodrow knew he was assessing the new vampiress. “You have decided to accept the training.” Zigor’s words were a statement rather than a question. “I’m here, ain’t I?” “She has much of Herb in her.” “Only outwardly, Master.” “You think you can work with her?” “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Dechrista snapped. “I hope your first lesson will be in manners.” “Give her a chance, Master. Some people use rudeness to hide fear,” Melinda said. “You’re his wife and he makes you call him Master?” Dechrista scoffed. “Girl, you need to get liberated.” “Silence, Melinda. I’m sure you’ll have your chance to speak with her later.” “Or not. Woody, if you think I’m going to call you Master and obey hand signals like this guy is giving to his wife, you’ve got another thing coming. Mel, I wouldn’t let any man treat me like that.” “He’s not any man,” Melinda said. “You shouldn’t give advice about what you don’t understand, Dechrista.” “I understand the whole Dominant/submissive thing. I wasn’t born under no rock.” Zigor sighed. “You’re wasting your time with this one, Woodrow. Like her sire, she lacks intelligence.” “Who are you calling stupid?” “I would like to train her here.” “She doesn’t want to be trained.” “Give her a chance.”

“You know this is a sanctuary for our kind. If she is not serious about learning, I don’t want her here.” “Fine. I’m gone.” “Wait.” Woodrow raised his cane and blocked her path as she turned to descend the steps. “You are welcome here,” Zigor stated. “But her mistakes are yours.” “I accept that. Melinda, would you assist me?” “Gladly.” “What is she going to do, train me to crawl on my knees and suck the Master’s cock?” A sharp crack of flesh on flesh was followed by a thud. By the rhythm of their heartbeats and the pattern of their thoughts, Woodrow knew Zigor had slapped Dechrista hard enough to knock her down. Stepping between them, Woodrow raised his cane, prepared to unsheathe his weapon. “Don’t ever touch her again, Master.” “What?” “I spoke clearly.” Dechrista’s emotions collided with Zigor’s inside his head. Terror overshadowed her rage. The ancient Master’s frustration was like a venomous snake swimming around Woodrow’s mind. Old and unbendable powers exploded inside his head, inciting physical pain. Though Woodrow’s telepathic powers were strong, Zigor’s were stronger. “Killing you, my pup, would be much easier than creating you ever was.” Woodrow’s teeth clenched and his grip on his cane tightened. He knew Zigor wouldn’t really kill him. The ancient just wanted to hurt him a little, humiliate him for daring to defy his master. Perhaps such punishment was deserved. Still, Woodrow would never give in to it. Then do it, Master. To harm her again, you must get through me. Dechrista’s heartbeat filled the room and she shouted, “Stop it! I don’t belong here and I don’t want anybody’s help!” Her hurried footsteps faded as she raced down the stairs. Zigor ceased his psychic attack. Releasing a pent up breath, Woodrow rubbed his head that ached with the mother of all migraines. “I’m leaving.” “Don’t be as foolish as your charge. She may stay, but keep her out of my sight until she’s worthy to walk among us.”

Woodrow’s first impulse was to reject Zigor’s offer. Perhaps he still would, but first he needed to find Dechrista. *** Trembling from head to toe, Dechrista hurried out of the club and rushed down the sidewalk. Never in her life had anyone frightened her like Master Zigor. Not only did the man look like a demon with his ferocious eyes and ass-length black hair, but he emanated power such as she’d never imagined. Evil wasn’t a strong enough word to describe his aura. From the moment she saw the ancient vampire, Dechrista wanted to slink out of his lair, but she needed to learn all she could about vampirism. Experience had taught her that when she couldn’t run from her fear, it was best to hide it. She should have known that another vampire would sense her true feelings and use them against her. What shook her almost as much as the confrontation with Zigor was the way Woodrow had defended her. He’d stood up to that inhuman maniac to protect her. Why? “Dechrista.” She screamed as Woodrow stepped out of an alley and grasped her arm. “It’s all right,” he soothed. She pushed him away. “How the fuck did you get here so fast?” “I took the back way. Come with me.” “No.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and stared at him. An unaccustomed feeling of tenderness churned within her. It annoyed and frightened her. “I appreciate your offer, Woodrow, but it’s not going to work out.” “Don’t worry about Zigor. He won’t bother you again.” “Right. Just being in the same room as him gives me the creeps. He’s a maniac.” “On occasion.” “I saw what he did to you. I felt it. He could have killed you.” “Yes.” “He’s your Master.” Woodrow nodded. “It’s a term of respect among our kind, but I’m my own man, Dechrista.” “I heard what you said to him. I heard it in my mind. You said he’d have to go through you to get to me.” “I guess my thoughts were pretty open at the moment. Zigor is almost impossible to fight off once he gets in your head.” “Nobody’s ever stood up for me like that before.”

“If you want a teacher, I’m committed to helping you.” “You make it sound easy. Somebody like you has no idea what life is like for somebody like me.” “You’d be surprised.” “Right. Look at you. Good looking. Perfect clothes. I know you’re rich.” “I’m two-hundred-sixty-eight years old. I should have something to show for myself financially.” “Have you ever been poor, Woodrow? Do you know what it’s like not to know where your next meal is coming from? Have you got any idea how it feels to be ten years old and stuck in a house where your mother’s pig boyfriend does whatever the fuck he wants and she ignores the whole situation? How about running away from home at twelve and living in the fucking street? You and your goddamn Master think I’m a stupid slut, but you have no idea what my life has been like, so you and fucking Zigor can take your help and shove it.” “I understand more than you think, Dechrista. Do you know anything about London in the year 1736?” Raising her eyes to heaven, she laughed sarcastically. “I just told you I’ve been on my own since I was twelve. I didn’t even get to high school but I’m supposed to be a fucking expert on the history of England?” “In 1736, if you were blind and from a poor family, your options for supporting yourself were limited. You couldn’t go into service because no house would hire you, nor were you wanted in a workhouse. The option was to beg on the street. Dark glasses. Tin cup. Imagine Dickens.” “Who the fuck is Dickens?” “We’ll get to that later.” She shrugged, a bit surprised by his words. For some reason, she couldn’t imagine him being anything but the well-educated picture of class standing before her. “You were really a beggar?” “Most of the time. As you know, the streets are not a safe place to be, even in 1736. A child alone was a perfect target for perverts. Sometimes those perverts would pay you. Your parents were always thrilled to see the extra income. They didn’t care how you might have come by it.” She studied his face carefully. His expression was like stone. For all the emotion he showed and by the way he spoke, he could have been telling the story about someone else. “Is that true?” What do you think, Dechrista? Swallowing hard, she tried controlling her discomfort as his mind touched hers. Slowly she relaxed and found herself swimming in a sea of his thoughts and memories. “Well.” She forced a smile. “Looks like we have more in common than I thought.”

“Let me do for you what Zigor did for me. The possibilities are endless for you. There’s nothing you can’t do. You have centuries to explore the world as well as the depths of your own heart. Don’t throw this chance away because of fear or pride. Come back to Burgundy Peak with me.” He extended his hand. It was beautifully shaped and inviting. Whenever he touched her, she felt protected, like everything was going to turn out fine. Still, experience had taught her that nothing worked out well. “Then it’s time you had new experiences,” he said, his hand unwavering. Hesitantly, she slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it gently and offered her the slightest smile. “I thought you said you wouldn’t float around in my head without asking?” “You’re right. I did.” “Do I have to see your Master again if I go back there?” “Not until you’re better prepared.” “Like with a silver stake?” “Dechrista --” he warned. “Just a bad joke. When I looked in your mind, I saw everything he did for you.” “He has a warmer side than the one you saw tonight.” “You owe him a lot, but you stood up to him for me. Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” Hand in hand, they walked back to the club. “You really think I’m good looking?” She laughed. “Yeah, you’re a stud and a half, but all the vampiresses must tell you that.” “Yes, I’m overrun with admirers.” She didn’t need telepathy to sense his sarcasm, though she failed to understand it since he had just about everything a woman could ask for. “Do you think we could get a drink?” she asked. “I’ve never been this thirsty in my life.” “It’s blood thirst. One of the first things you must learn is how to bite correctly.” “How many ways can there be to do it?” “About as many as there are sexual positions.” She grinned. “Yeah?”

“Somehow I knew that would nab your attention.” A short time later, they stepped into Woodrow’s room at Burgundy Peak. To their surprise, Dechrista’s belongings from her apartment were piled in a corner. “I thought I’d have my own room?” Dechrista said. “This is a mistake.” Woodrow picked up the phone and dialed. “Onan, Dechrista’s things should be -What? -- He’s got to be joking.” “What?” she asked once he’d hung up. “According to Zigor, there are no spare rooms available.” “So I’m staying here?” She wrinkled her nose and tried to look annoyed when inside excitement shot through her. The idea of playing house with Woodrow did things to her libido that she never imagined possible. “Apparently. I’ll check into a hotel. It won’t be as convenient, but --” “There ain’t no way I’m staying here by myself. That Master of yours hates me.” “He doesn’t hate you.” “I’ll stay in the damn hotel room.” “I don’t think that’s a good idea until you have more command over your powers.” “Why can’t we both just stay here?” “Because I have no intentions of sleeping with you.” The arrogant son of a bitch! “Who’s asking you to?” He didn’t reply, and for the first time she wished he wasn’t wearing those damn glasses. Reading his expression was impossible, and she wasn’t yet sure how telepathy worked. “Unpack your things. I’ll clear out a dresser drawer for you to use, and you can have half the closet. Just don’t mess up any of my clothes.” “Don’t worry. I won’t put my grubby paws on them.” “I meant because I have them arranged so my colors are coordinated.” “Oh.” She could have kicked herself for stupidity. “Having me stay here is going to be a problem for you, isn’t it? I mean, you didn’t plan on any of this.” “It’s all right. I like training novices.” Dechrista folded her arms across her chest to keep from touching him. This man reached a secret part of her that she had spent her life protecting. He was probably the first decent person she’d ever known, and

while his goodness attracted her, she also found it intimidating. “Once we get you settled, then you can have a practice bite.” “Practice bite?” He nodded. “You can use me until it’s safe for you to try it on a human.” Dechrista’s entire body suddenly shifted into overdrive. Her pulse raced and her nipples tingled. The idea of such intimate contact with him made her legs weak. She resisted the urge to squirm and appease the marvelous ache between her legs. Get a grip, Dechrista. “You think that’s a good idea?” “It’s best to practice on another vampire, otherwise you could injure, even kill, a mortal. Also, until your telepathy is polished, you risk the mortal remembering the blood sharing.” “Who would believe them except for a rag newspaper?” “Hunters tend to pay close attention to rag newspapers.” “Vampire hunters?” She squeezed her temples. “Sounds like some stupid TV show.” “The danger of hunters is very real. Granted, there are few of them, but sometimes they can do serious damage. I know a vampire who was permanently scarred by silver weapons hunters created.” Dechrista shivered at the thought. “I’m going to take a shower and get rid of these torn clothes. The reek of those vampires earlier sinks right into the skin. Make yourself at home.” Woodrow stepped into the bathroom, and Dechrista sat on the bed, running her hand over the burgundy quilt. Tonight she and Woodrow would share this bed -- or maybe not. With his prudish ways, he’d probably sleep on a chair. While the water ran in the shower, she inspected the room more closely, paying extra attention to his musical instruments. The harp in particular fascinated her. She ran her fingertip over the strings. The beauty of the instrument fascinated her so much that she didn’t notice the shower had stopped running until the bathroom door opened. Her breath caught at the image of Woodrow wearing nothing but black jeans and a towel around his powerful shoulders. God, his long, sleek legs were absolutely made for jeans. And the sizeable bulge of his crotch was enough to make a woman instantly wet. Damp tendrils of hair clung to his scalp and neck. The gashes on his arm had stopped bleeding, but were still an angry shade of red. “You’re a musician?” “Yes. I write music.”

“I’m a singer.” “Really?” “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I sang with a band in the bar where I worked.” “I’d like to hear you.” “I’d like to hear this.” She plucked at the harp strings. “Will you play something for me?” After a moment’s pause, he sat at the harp and lifted his long, graceful hands to the instrument. Just looking at his gorgeous, half-dressed body made her forget about music and everything else except sex. He reminded her of a big, sleek cat, all sinew and grace while oozing savage power. Moments after he began playing, her focus drifted to the music. The harp song was the most eerie, beautiful sound she had ever heard. Dragging a chair near to him, she sat and closed her eyes, savoring each magnificent note. When he finished, regret tugged at her heart. “It was beautiful. You’ve got a lot more talent than the band I sang with, I’ll tell you that.” A slight smile played around his lips. “I wish I could play like that.” “I can teach you.” “You’re already teaching me enough.” “Would you like to learn?” “Yes. I would.” “We can start later on tonight. First things first. Let’s get to work.” For the next hour, they rearranged the room to accommodate her few belongings. Most of her clothes had been discarded, since Woodrow promised her a new wardrobe. Dechrista argued that she liked the way she dressed, but she wasn’t about to complain too much. After all, no woman in her right mind would refuse a shopping spree with no strings attached. Dechrista had just placed the last of her makeup on the bottom shelf of his medicine cabinet when Woodrow stood in the bathroom doorway. “You must be starving. Newly changed vampires must feed often. Why don’t you take some of my blood now.” Dechrista paused, her heart pounding. The need for blood was almost overwhelming, as was her desire to touch her lips to his neck and run her tongue over his flesh. If Woodrow wanted her even half as much as she wanted him, there was no way either of them would keep their need at bay, no matter what he said about not sleeping with her. “Mind if I take a shower first? You cleaned up after our scuffle in the alley, but I haven’t. Wouldn’t want

to get you dirty again.” “I’m going out for some air. Be back in ten minutes.” Nodding, she watched him leave the room. *** Even before he stepped into his room, Woodrow caught the scent of Dechrista’s perfume. Though too strong for his taste, the aroma of it combined with her natural musk heightened by passion excited him more than he wanted to admit. Soft strains of piano music drifted through the corridor. She had obviously helped herself to his CD player and music collection. Pausing for a moment outside the door, he wondered why his heart was beating fast. Who was he kidding? He knew exactly why. The anticipation of her bite had him on edge since he suggested this course of training. Perhaps he should have arranged for her to practice on someone else. As a teacher, he liked to remain unmoved by his student’s bite so he could better improve their technique. Even though she was completely inexperienced, the thought of her biting him stirred his desire. Drawing a couple of deep breaths, he willed his stiff cock into submission, then stepped inside. “Have a nice walk?” By the direction of her soft, seductive voice, he knew she was sitting on the bed. “Yes. Are you ready?” “More than ready.” She approached, the scent of her bloodlust strong and alluring. Clasping the back of his neck, she leaned against him. Her weight shifted as she stood on tiptoe to better reach his neck. “Wait a second.” He grasped her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “You can’t just walk up to someone and take a piece out of them.” “No?” “Well, you can, but it’s rude, obnoxious, and calls unnecessary attention to our kind. The last thing vampires need is more negative attention.” “I’m sorry, Woody, but I’m really thirsty. Can we hurry this up?” “First, don’t call me Woody, and second I’ll be as brief as possible this time because you’re very thirsty. Future lessons will be as extensive as necessary. Preparation is most important. Sometimes we must hypnotize humans for our own protection, however, you will eventually find regular donors who enjoy the experience as much as you do. To make tonight’s lesson as short as possible, we will pretend that I am a mortal who knows exactly what you are and wishes to provide you with blood.” “Good.” She pressed closer. “Let’s get going.” “Setting the mood is very important, Dechrista. It’s best to begin with some foreplay. Kissing, caressing, that sort of thing. We’ll skip that part and --” “Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean skip it?” “I’m not in the habit of making out with my students. When I tell them to kiss and caress before biting,

they get the general idea.” “Doesn’t practice make perfect?” “Dechrista, you and I both know that you have no need for more practice in the art of seduction.” “I can’t tell if you just insulted me or gave me a compliment.” “It was a bit of both. Now let’s move on. When you bite, be slow and gentle. Penetrate slightly at first, then more deeply as pleasure takes over both you and your partner.” “You’ll like this too?” “To avoid any uncomfortable feelings which might hinder our student/teacher relationship, I will make a conscious effort to remain as detached as possible when you bite. I will critique your performance as an observer more than a participant.” “Oh yeah?” The note of challenge in her voice was frustratingly clear. “I am not a mortal boy looking for a quick pick-up. I am your teacher in the vampiric arts. Though I encourage you to practice your vampiric seduction, be assured I am immune.” “Yes, sir. By the way, just to be a wise ass, I saluted you.” “Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow night. You’re obviously not thirsty enough to take this seriously.” “No. I’m sorry. I really want to do this.” Her hand curled around his wrist, warming him. Resisting her was going to prove more difficult than he imagined. “But can I try it with the kissing? The strange thing is, I’ve never really had to seduce anyone. The men I know all come on so strong that foreplay is…” “A novelty?” He couldn’t keep the quirky smile from his lips. Sighing, he removed his coat and tossed it on the bed, then unknotted his tie. “All right. If you think it will help you may proceed.” “Where should we do it?” Dechrista tugged off his loosened tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. He brushed away her hands. “The bed?” “No.” Definitely not the bed. Did she think he was made of concrete? He tugged one of the chairs away from the table and sat. “Come here.” Dechrista sat on his lap and rested her arms around his neck. Soft strains of piano music still echoed through the room. Her scent and the feeling of her warm body close to his was intoxicating. He forced himself to remain aloof, yet as she tilted her face closer to his, he knew it would be impossible. Her lips brushed his in a gentle kiss. The scent of spearmint toothpaste mingled with her perfume. Her lips parted a bit and moved sensuously over his while her fingers threaded through the hair at his nape. The urge to close his eyes and really enjoy the kiss was almost overwhelming. Tilting her head slightly, she ran her soft, warm lips along the side of his neck. Her breath and tongue caressed his flesh, sending thrills of desire down his spine. His cock sprang to life in spite of how he struggled to control his passion. Her tongue, so hot and seductive, lapped his neck. The scent of her lust, both for blood and sex, filled him and fed his vampiric hunger. He wished she would just go ahead and

do it before he lost complete control. Suddenly her fangs pierced his flesh. The bite was fast and deep. Momentary pain shocked him out of his lusty stupor, but only for a moment. She must have sensed his discomfort, because she withdrew her teeth slightly and lapped slowly, gently, lulling him back into a haze of passion. She moaned and turned on his lap, straddling him. Her soft breasts, tipped with pebble hard nipples, pressed against his chest, stirring his passion even more. Locking her arms tightly around him, she slowly thrust her hips and rocked against his erection. Her moans deepened along with her bite. Unable to resist, Woodrow closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her close as she fed. His pulse raced. The sound of their combined heartbeats filled his ears. His sense of touch heightened to a level he had never before experienced. Trapped between their bodies, his cock ached and throbbed with impending orgasm. Suddenly he grasped her shoulders and pushed her away. “That’s enough, Dechrista.” “You taste so good,” she panted, running her palms over his chest. One of her hands slipped inside his partially opened shirt and caressed his bare flesh, sending shockwaves of desire from his head to his toes. “You feel great too.” Clenching his teeth so hard that his fangs sank into his lips, he shoved her aside, grasped his cane, and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Making his way to the club below, he tried to ignore his throbbing erection by concentrating on the fury building inside him. An impossible task stretched before him, made worse because he must share a room with Dechrista as well as instruct her. How could he possibly lie beside her, day after day, and not succumb to his lust for her? He knew there were rooms available. Zigor was deliberately playing with him. Ignoring Burgundy Peak’s rules, Woodrow flung open the door leading to Master Zigor’s private chamber. As he ascended the steps, the scent of lovemaking hung heavily on the air. Halfway up the staircase, he stopped, sensing that the Master stood directly in front of him. “What are you doing here?” “Master, I must speak with you now.” “Then speak here. My wife and I are engaged above. And speak quickly.” “Why did you say no room was available for Dechrista?” “Because she needs to be with you and I knew you would not rent a hotel room for either of you.” “How could you know that?” “You mean aside from the scent of your lust being a clue? I am your creator. My blood flows through you as yours flows through me. I know you better than you know yourself, Woodrow. Never in your life have you seriously threatened me, until tonight when you defended that woman.” “You should not have struck her. Your ways frightened some people, Master.”

“My ways frighten most people, especially those of this time.” Zigor sounded a bit weary, almost sad, but Woodrow could not consider his Master’s emotions when his own raged out of control. “There is a spark between you and this woman.” “You’re wrong. Not only is she too young for me, but we have nothing in common.” “You may find you have more in common than you think. Regardless of whether or not you stand here and argue with me, you must get her out of your system.” Woodrow’s insides churned. His grip tightened on his cane as he confronted an unsettling realization. “What if I can’t get her out of my system?” Zigor chuckled, an evil sound rather than a jovial one. “Then you had better teach her well, or else you will have her and Herb to destroy your eternity with their antics. Go, Woodrow, and don’t bother me again tonight.”

Chapter Five

For several moments after Woodrow left, Dechrista sat in the chair, stunned. Part of her wanted to leave Burgundy Peak and this group of experienced vampires that looked down on her, yet another part of her wanted to stay and learn all she could from them. She wanted to prove that she could be just as good as they were. “All you need to do is stay and take everything he’ll give you, Dechrista. Use him, then kick him to the curb.” Why not? That’s how people had always treated her. She closed her eyes and drew a long breath. In her heart, she knew Woodrow was different. Dechrista shook her head. Other than the stories of his mortal past and flashes of his life with Zigor she saw through telepathy, what did she really know about Woodrow? Kneeling in front of one of the night tables, she opened the top drawer. Interesting. A stack of letters she couldn’t read, since they were written in Braille. A package of peppermint gum. A small box of foreign coins. Dechrista grinned as she picked up a half-eaten chocolate bar and stole a corner. She closed her eyes, savoring the rich, sweet flavor. Funny. It didn’t taste half as good as Woodrow’s blood. Singing one of her favorite blues songs, she returned the candy and opened the bottom drawer. The contents weren’t very interesting, just underwear and socks. When she moved to the night table on the opposite side of the bed, the excitement picked up a bit. The top drawer contained several strips of black silk and a pair of gold handcuffs. Dechrista’s singing grew softer, then stopped altogether upon opening the bottom drawer. Hazelnut lotion. Chocolate body cream. Edible lotion.

“I’ll be damned,” she whispered. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Woody.” The door opened and Dechrista’s pulse leapt. Closing the drawer, she wondered if he somehow knew she’d been snooping. “You were singing,” he said. “Yeah. Just to keep myself company.” “You have a lovely voice.” His compliment warmed her more than she wanted to admit. “Thanks. You know, I’m surprised you’re back this soon. I thought I might have scared you off for the night.” He approached and stopped directly in front of her. She tried to see his eyes behind the dark glasses, but it was impossible, even with her enhanced vision. “I’m sorry to have left so abruptly. I didn’t mean to insult or discourage you.” “It’s all right. I know why you did it. I turned you on, but you’re ashamed to admit liking me. No problem.” “Yes, it is a problem because you believe I was ashamed for the wrong reasons. I have never felt this way about a pupil. I don’t want to take advantage of you.” She laughed. “That’s a first. You know I’m not exactly a virgin, Woody-row.” The clenching of his teeth gave her some idea that he hated the nickname she’d pinned on him. She didn’t want to piss him off. She needed to know where this conversation was headed and if the strange but wonderful feelings she had for him were returned. “You are inexperienced in the ways of the vampire. At this stage it’s natural for a student to cling to a teacher, even impose feelings of love. The reality is, I’m a safe haven in a world which, to you, has gone crazy.” Dechrista held up her hand. “Wait a minute. My world has always been crazy. This is actually a better opportunity than I’ve ever had. Not only that, I don’t think you realize your full potential, Woodrow, or maybe you do.” She recalled the night table full of sex enhancers. “You’re very young. Once you’re trained and find other companions, you won’t want me, at least not in the same way as you do now.” “How do you know?” “It’s only natural.” “So is the attraction we feel. Look, if you’re not interested, just say the word and I won’t try anything cute. I’ll learn what you have to teach and then move on, but if you are interested, at least give me a chance.” She took a step closer and touched a tentative hand to his chest. The flesh was warm and covered with hair. She wanted to touch and kiss him all over, to lie with him, skin to skin. The thought of tasting his blood again sent tremors of pure desire down her spine. Still, no matter how much she wanted

him, if he didn’t want her, then she wasn’t about to beg. She had some pride. His hand closed over hers, pressing her palm harder to his chest. His heartbeat quickened and his scent grew stronger and more alluring. Shaking his head, he removed her hand and began pacing the room. “This isn’t right.” “All right. You’re not interested.” “I didn’t say that.” “Then you are?” “I think we need to take this slowly. I will not allow my desire to hinder your training.” “Fine.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and sat on the bed. He was the most frustrating man she’d ever met. “What are we going to do for the rest of the night? I don’t want to stay stuck in this room.” “Do you want to go shopping?” “Don’t have to ask me twice.” “I have a friend who works in one of the city’s best clothing shops. She’ll be happy to help you coordinate a new look for your new vampiric life.” “It better not be an all black Goth style, because I ain’t into that.” “Few vampires actually are.” “Yeah? That’s good to know.” *** Woodrow and Dechrista spent the early hours of the night at an exclusive dress shop where Dechrista bought several outfits and was fitted for others. She’d never dreamed of having clothes made especially for her, and she hadn’t imagined the price, either. She left the shop in an understated pantsuit. Yes, it was black, but not Goth. “I feel like a lawyer or something,” she said as they walked down the dark sidewalk, each of them holding a shopping bag. “I look so good I wish you could see me.” “I know how beautiful you must look.” “How?” “I sensed it not only from you, but from the shop workers and people passing by. You have no shortage of admirers.” For the first time, Dechrista glanced at the people around her. A slight smile touched her lips. He was right. She was getting quite a few looks. Several of the men reeked of lust. Briefly, she imagined what

their blood would taste like. “Are you hungry again?” Woodrow asked. “No. Just curious.” “That’s good. Now would be the perfect time to work on your telepathy.” They stopped in a small but crowded cafe and ordered tea. “Sip, don’t gulp,” he said. “Can’t I do anything right? Even drink? How can you tell what I’m doing, anyway?” “I’m not deaf. You sound like a car chugging gasoline.” “Very classy thing to say,” she muttered, but made a conscious effort to sip the next time she lifted her cup. “How about the telepathy thing?” “It’s very crowded, so it will be easy to pick up mortals’ thoughts yet more difficult to discern where the images are coming from.” For the next hour, Dechrista struggled to use her new telepathic skills. It was far more difficult than she expected, but Woodrow was a patient and surprisingly gentle teacher. By the time they left the cafe, she had begun learning to focus her concentration. “All it takes is time,” he said as they walked along the city streets. To Dechrista, the night was more beautiful than she ever remembered. Her newly sharpened senses detected the softest sounds and faintest scents. Woodrow helped her coordinate the barrage of sensations so they wouldn’t overwhelm her. Without focus, a vampire could be hypnotized by all the sights, sounds, and aromas the world had to offer, therefore leaving herself vulnerable to others of her kind, as well as to hunters. For the first time, she realized how much she needed Woodrow’s help, and how happy she was to be with him. Oddly enough, in spite of his lectures and endless corrections of her behavior, he seemed to enjoy her company as well. By the time they returned to Burgundy Peak, it was almost dawn. They entered through the back door of the club. No music played and the few heartbeats that echoed throughout the building were slow and steady, the rhythm of sleeping vampires. In their room, Woodrow drew the heavy drapes to block out the sunlight. “Which side of the bed do you like?” Dechrista asked. “Either one.” “I guess I’ll take the left.” She glanced from Woodrow to the bed, willing her desire into submission. If and when he was ready to take their relationship further, she would oblige. Until then, she wasn’t about to throw herself at him. Funny how after a change of clothes and a few lessons in etiquette her pride had increased. Excusing herself, she stepped into the bathroom where she washed up, brushed her hair, and applied a drop more of the expensive, heavenly scented perfume she’d fallen in love with during their shopping spree. While she had been trying on underclothes and nightgowns, he had snuck back to the

fragrance counter, and then surprised her with the bottle. Dechrista slipped on a bright red silk nightgown. She’d chosen the garment because Woodrow seemed partial to the feeling of silk. While she and the woman at the clothing shop had been deciding on which clothes Dechrista should choose, Woodrow carefully felt each piece and almost always favored silk or soft cotton. Maybe tonight in bed their bodies would unconsciously touch. She had this fantasy about him being lured by the sensation of the silk over her warm flesh. He would take her in his arms and cover her mouth with his lush, masculine lips. Smiling slightly, she shook her head. Imagine her daydreaming about a guy after all she knew about the dreaded male sex. While Woodrow stepped into the bathroom, Dechrista turned down the covers on the bed. The sheets were soft cotton, just as she should have expected. They carried his sexy, refreshing scent. Burying her face in one of the pillows, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Memories of taking his blood flooded her, sending waves of desire through her entire body. Damn, she got wet just thinking about being in his arms. Sighing, she slipped into the bed and stared at the bathroom door. Moments later, Woodrow stepped out wearing blue silk boxer shorts. The thin material outlined his sizeable cock and balls to perfection. The rest of his body, from his broad shoulders corded with muscle to his long, sinewy legs, was enough to send her pulse racing out of control. He approached the bed and got in. Dechrista’s belly quivered with anticipation, yet her excitement was in vain. Turning his back to her, Woodrow lay motionless, his heartbeat and breathing slow and even. Damn. She sighed and closed her eyes. It seemed like all the legends about vampires being seductive, insatiable lovers weren’t true at all. What a disappointment. *** Woodrow lay awake for what seemed like hours. Dechrista’s scent, the warmth of her body, and the sound of her breathing and heartbeat stirred his desire until he almost couldn’t bear her nearness. The woman excited him like no one he had ever known. All he could think about was touching and kissing her. Though he tried, it was impossible to forget the sensation of her fangs piercing his flesh and her lush body squirming in ecstasy atop his. In her sleep, she murmured softly and rolled closer to him. Her breath fanned his back and one of her legs entangled with his. Closing his eyes tightly, he drew a deep breath and steeled himself. You will not touch her. She is off limits. “Hmm,” she purred, her hand trailing down his ribs and caressing his backside. “Dechrista.” He rolled over, covering her body with his and pinning her hands to the mattress. He sensed her surprise, then her amusement combined with desire. His intention had been to simply stop her from touching him. At least that’s what he told himself. “Were you doing that on purpose?” he demanded.

“Doing what?” “Touching me.” “I didn’t know I was.” Lowering his face slightly, he felt her breath on his lips. She didn’t move or speak. Perhaps she sensed that the wrong word or action would shake him back to reality and out of the dreamy haze that suddenly overtook him. Slowly, gently, he kissed her. She returned the gesture, her soft lips tenderly caressing his. Pressing her body closer, he relished the sensation of her full breasts flattening beneath his chest. She wore a silk nightgown, the material smooth, soft, and made warm by her flesh. Unable to stop himself, he kissed every inch of her face, savoring the marvelous texture of her skin. He released her hands and ran his fingers through her hair. The thick, soft tendrils caressed his palms. Her scent filled him. The sound of her heartbeat echoed in his ears. God, she was like the most addictive drug, potent and irresistible. “Please don’t stop,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him tightly. His knee slipped between her legs and she parted them, her pelvis thrusting against him, trapping his stiff cock between their bodies with only her nightgown and his boxers separating their flesh. As much as he loved the feeling of silk, he wanted the clothing gone. He kissed his way down her neck to her shoulder until his lips found the strap of her nightgown. Taking the strap in his teeth, he tugged it down her arm, all the while using his hands to stroke her breasts and belly. She was soft and womanly, such a pleasure to touch. Dechrista slipped her hand out of that strap, then the other. His heart pounding with anticipation, he straddled her hips. Supporting his weight on his knees, he tugged down the front of her nightgown, baring her torso. “I’ve never made love with a man who can’t see me.” “I can see you.” Slowly his fingertips traced her throat and shoulders before moving to her breasts. Her smooth, warm skin tantalized him. Never had he felt more perfect breasts than Dechrista’s. Large and soft as flower petals, they spilled from his palms, so lush and tempting. Using his fingertips, he circled one of her small, spiky nipples, feeling bumps of pleasure rise on her areola. Yes, he saw her through touch, and to him she was the most beautiful woman in the world. The desire to take her blood almost overcame him. Pausing for a moment, he waited, mastering his hunger, wanting to take his time and thoroughly enjoy her. Now that he’d begun making love to her, there was no way he wanted to stop. Inside, he knew this woman would one day steal his heart and most likely destroy it, but at that moment it didn’t matter. He wanted her so badly it was a physical ache. He slid down her body and took one of her nipples between his lips, rolling his tongue over the plump berry. “Oh, Woodrow, I want you.” She clutched handfuls of his hair and caressed his scalp before moving to

his shoulders. Her fingers sank into his muscles, squeezing and stroking. Woodrow licked and kissed her breasts, using the tip of his tongue to tease her nipples to even stiffer peaks. His mind touched hers, knowing that if their thoughts mingled, their pleasure would climb to unimaginable heights. At the first rush of her emotions crashing through his mind, Woodrow gasped, the sensations even more intense than he’d imagined. His balls tightened and his cock swelled to nearly bursting. He paused for a moment, panting, his heart hammering against his ribs. Dechrista moaned, a sound of pleasure and pain. “This is too much, Woodrow. I can’t stand it.” “I know. I’ve never felt anything like this. Not with anyone.” “Not ever?” “No.” He slid up her body and spoke against her lips. “Not ever.” Clasping his head, Dechrista pulled him close. Their mouths touched, their tongues stroking, searching, and thrusting. She tugged down his boxer shorts and he kicked them aside, then yanked off her nightdress. Groaning with pleasure at the sensation of her flesh against his, he pressed her body deeper into the mattress and buried his face in the hollow of her neck. The tips of his fangs trailed very gently across her flesh so as not to scratch it. The simple gesture stoked the fire inside him as he imagined plunging his fangs in deep and lapping her blood. Almost since the moment they met he had wondered what she tasted like. Now, he would drink of her. “Oh, yes. I want you to take my blood, Woodrow. And I want to taste yours again.” While continuing to kiss her neck, he reached for the night table, opened the top drawer, and grasped a handful of silk strips. Kneeling, he trailed the soft tails over her body from throat to pelvis. “You want to tie me up?” Her excitement was apparent in her voice and the quickening of her heartbeat. “Sit up.” He grasped her arm and guided her to a position in front of him. Sweeping her hair over one shoulder, he covered her nape with feathery kisses before taking one of the silk strips and blindfolding her with it. “Kneel, Dechrista.” His hands settled on her waist and he felt her rise to her knees. The position allowed him to slip one of the silk strips between her legs. With the utmost tenderness, he looped it around one leg and used it to stroke up and down her inner thigh. She giggled. “What are you doing?” “Sensation is the most important part of lovemaking, yet so often it is wasted on a few quick motions. It’s over before you can fully enjoy it.”

“I never really thought about it.” Her voice softened to almost a whisper when he moved the silk directly between her legs and rubbed it gently back and forth, a tender caress both on her clit and between her bottom cheeks. While he manipulated the silk, he kissed her from shoulder to shoulder, then ran his tongue up and down her spine. Leaning close to her ear, he murmured, “Now you might.” Using a fresh strip of silk, he wrapped it around her breasts and fastened it in back. His thumb caressed one of her nipples. The nub was hard and waiting. Taking it between his lips, he licked and sucked through the thin layer of silk. “Oh, God,” she gasped, thrusting her breasts forward and clutching his head, pressing him closer. He continued lapping and sucking until the wet silk clung to her breast like a second skin. The excited stroking of her fingers through his hair, the anxious sound of her breathing and heartbeat combined with their telepathic bond drove his desire to almost unendurable heights of passion. By the time he turned his attention to her other nipple, his cock felt ready to burst. Still, he wanted to hold out for just a while longer. This buildup to the first explosion was his favorite part of lovemaking, and he had never wanted a woman as badly as he wanted Dechrista. Moaning, she swayed on her knees. He steadied her hips, holding her upright, yet never ceasing his attention on her nipple. “Oh, Woodrow, I want you so much.” “I want you too, Dechrista.” Straightening, he wrapped his arms around her, his erection caught between them, allowing her to feel how badly he needed her. “Stay upright, but come to the edge of the bed.” “I can’t see where it is.” “I’ll guide you.” Keeping his hands on her waist, he slipped backwards off the bed and knelt on the floor. He stopped her at the edge of the bed so that her clit was almost level with his mouth. Bending, he ran his tongue up and down her swollen flesh. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on learning the shape, taste, and scent of her clit. It was very plump, the skin tender and musky. Dechrista moaned, her hips thrusting forward and her legs trembling. “I don’t think I can stay like this, Woodrow.” Just a while longer. “I want you inside me.” How badly he wanted the same thing! With a final lick, he stood and pushed her gently onto her back. Ripping the silk from her breast, he licked both nipples before covering her body with his. The tip of his stiff cock prodded her pussy. Inch by delicious inch he slid inside her. She was completely soaked with passion. By the time he was buried to the hilt, her internal muscles were clenching and unclenching mercilessly on his almost painful erection. “Dechrista. My beautiful Dechrista.”

“Yes, Woodrow. Yes!” She clung to him hard, her body thrusting in time with his. Wrapping her legs around him, she squeezed with all her strength, and he reveled in it. “That’s right, my love. Hard as you can. Yes, Dechrista. Yes!” Their bodies thrust and rocked together, lost in passion. Simultaneously, their fangs sank into each other’s shoulders. The taste of her blood combined with the rhythm of their bodies was too much for Woodrow. He couldn’t hold back a second longer even if he wanted to. The marvelous tightening began in his balls, then traveled up his cock until he exploded in an orgasm so long and hard that for several moments he forgot where he was. His only awareness was of the moaning, thrashing woman beneath him.

Chapter Six

The following night, Dechrista was surprised when Woodrow brought her to Mel for some special training. “Mel is a vampire warrior in every sense of the word,” Woodrow explained as they made their way to the basement of Burgundy Peak. “For one so young, she has perfected the art of fighting and can teach you all you need to know.” “I know how to fight. You don’t grow up on the street and not learn how to take care of yourself.” “It’s different for our kind. Those vampires who attacked you, Mel would have wiped the floor with them.” “Oh yeah?” “You’ll see.” “You handled them just fine. Why can’t you teach me?” Dechrista wasn’t sure she wanted anything to do with Zigor’s wife. So far the only vampire she trusted was Woodrow. “Because it’s better that you learn from a sighted vampire. Once you’ve mastered all your senses, then I will give you the greatest gift I can provide for any of my students.” “What’s that?” “I will teach you how to fight without sight, to hone your other senses and not depend on your vision. Someday such skill may prove useful.” Dechrista smiled slightly. “That is a good gift. I don’t suppose many masters can give that to their students.” When they reached the basement, Mel greeted them in a large, dimly lit room. The wooden floors were polished smooth and one of the walls was lined with mirrors.

“I’ll leave you ladies.” Woodrow nodded and walked through a doorway at the back of the room. Dechrista and Mel stared at one another for a moment. “You better be prepared to work hard.” “I want to learn whatever you’ve got to teach. Woodrow says you’re the best.” “I’m damn good, that’s for sure. Only a handful of male vamps can outfight me, and even then, there are ways to outsmart those who are more powerful.” “Sounds good. What’s first?” *** Several hours later, Dechrista was almost sorry she’d agreed to train with Mel. The vampiress didn’t know the meaning of mercy as she pushed Dechrista to her physical limits. Those limits were shockingly great. She could scarcely believe how much her strength and reflexes had improved since becoming a vampire. Never had she imagined possessing such raw power, yet in spite of her newly discovered strength, she spent most of the night being knocked on her ass. Dechrista was a street scrapper, but Mel fought like a wild animal. Throughout the lesson, she learned that vampires used their fangs as weapons along with their fingernails which were as hard and sharp as lions’ claws. Immortals fought using instinct and intelligence, relying as much upon their supernatural senses as upon their muscles. Mel taught Dechrista exercises to improve her coordination and increase her already impressive power. She even showed her how telepathy could be used against her enemies, but also turned against her, if she wasn’t careful. Several hours later, the women sat on the floor, stretching their muscles and talking. “Mel, can I ask you a personal question?” “Sure.” “Why does a powerful woman like you put up with a husband like Zigor?” “Zigor and I enjoy our relationship as it is. He has never done anything to me that I didn’t want, and he never will. He knows me better than anyone, just as I know him.” “I guess I just don’t understand the Dominant/submissive thing.” Mel shrugged. “Each of us has different wants and needs. If I didn’t like how Zigor treated me, but he continued to do so, then there would be a problem. Some of the things I do to him would destroy other men, yet he enjoys it.” Sick fascination crept through Dechrista. “What kind of things?” “Can’t tell you.” Mel winked. “Let’s just say Zigor has a tremendous capacity for pain and he enjoys

testing himself.” “He doesn’t want me here, does he?” “If Zigor didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be allowed to stay. I know he came on strong when you met, but you have to understand what he is.” “I know he’s an ancient alpha. Woodrow has explained about him, but he still had no right to hit me. I’m not you, Mel. I don’t like being treated like that.” “Zigor has never struck me in anger, and I agree he shouldn’t have hit you, but you also have to learn more about our kind. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can threaten any vampire, particularly an ancient alpha, on his territory. A lot of vamps would have ripped out your throat for having the attitude you came to us with.” “Then I guess I better pay close attention to your lessons, because I have trouble controlling my attitude.” Mel ruffled Dechrista’s hair. “I like you, kid.” Dechrista grinned and playfully shoved her friend away. Her smile faded as her thoughts drifted to last night with Woodrow. The man was never far from her thoughts. She obsessed about him like a girl with her first crush, yet a crush wasn’t nearly strong enough to describe what she felt for him. “I have to ask you something else.” “What now?” “Do you believe in love at first sight?” “No, but I believe when you meet the right guy, you sense the potential for love right away.” “I never believed in love at all.” Mel smiled. “Until you met Woodrow?” “Is it that obvious?” “Sort of.” “I’ve never known a man like him.” “He’s a terrific guy, and his success is pretty impressive too.” “Success?” Mel’s brow furrowed. “Don’t tell me he hasn’t told you what he does?” “He mentioned something about writing songs. You know, he’s a really great musician. Have you ever heard him play?” “Yeah.” Mel stared at Dechrista as if she’d just sprouted another head. “You really don’t know?”

“What?” “He’s written music to the most popular plays to hit London and Broadway over the past decade, not to mention writing songs for many of the world’s most famous vocalists.” Yet another wave of surprise struck Dechrista. “Shit. Is there anything the guy can’t do? I feel like I’ll never measure up. All I’ve done up to now is cause him trouble.” “Give yourself a chance, Dechrista. When I was first made a vampire, I drove my creator nuts. I went a little power happy at first, but you seem to be handling the change very well. From what I know about him, Woodrow is great with newbies.” “I’ve just never been in this kind of situation before.” “What mortal has?” “I don’t mean the vampirism. I mean…” “What?” “No one has ever looked out for me like Woodrow does. He really seems to give a damn.” “Of course he does.” “I can’t see what’s in it for him. There’s got to be some catch.” “Maybe the catch is he wants you as much as you want him.” Mel placed a hand on Dechrista’s shoulder. “Many of our kind are stuck-up, prejudiced assholes who are against anyone they think isn’t worthy of vampirism. You won’t see much of that behavior around here because Zigor won’t put up with it, but Woodrow has been in more than his share of scrapes outside of Burgundy Peak.” “Why?” Mel pointed to her eyes. “Because he’s blind? That’s crazy.” “I know, but it’s true. Funny thing is, most of the ones with the bad attitude aren’t half the vampire Woodrow is, and they never will be.” “You don’t have to tell me that.” “Just don’t forget it.” “I never could.” Mel stood. “I have to go. Zigor’s expecting me for lunch.” “Thanks for the lesson.”

“See you tomorrow night, same time, same place.” “If I can move.” Every muscle in Dechrista’s body ached and throbbed. She felt like she needed a month to recover rather than a single day. “Don’t worry. We regenerate fast. In an hour or two, you’ll feel great.” For several moments after Mel left, Dechrista lay on her back, her eyes closed, and allowed her body to completely relax. Her thoughts, however, churned with all the things Mel and Woodrow had taught her over the past couple of days and how much more she still had to learn. Woodrow’s scent wafted from the next room. It was very strong, sensual, and musky. When she concentrated, she heard the throbbing of his heart, much faster than normal. She concluded he must be working out too. Deciding to join him, she stood and walked to the next room. For a moment, she forgot to breathe as raw passion broke over her. In the center of the room, Woodrow performed pull-ups. Shirtless, his magnificent torso gleamed with sweat. Each perfectly developed muscle shone beneath his slick flesh. Dechrista could only stare in helpless fascination, relishing his male beauty. Never had a man’s shoulders looked so broad, his back so powerful, or his waist so trim. Recalling their lovemaking from the night before, she longed to be wrapped in his arms again, to feel those thick, bulging biceps and sinewy forearms crushing her close to his powerful chest. After several moments, he released the pull up bar and dropped to the floor, his leg muscles flexing beneath his black work out pants. “How was your lesson?” “You were right. Mel’s a great teacher.” Dechrista placed a hand on his shoulder. She stroked the hot, wet flesh before slipping her arms around his neck. “I could use a break, though. You look like you could too.” “I can use a shower.” She touched her lips to the side of his neck. “Perfect place for a break.” “You want to take a shower together?” “Thought you’d never ask, but first I want you to hold me.” Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close. Dechrista smiled and rested her cheek against his chest, loving the heat and dampness of his skin and the powerful rhythm of his heart. Closing her eyes, she kissed his collarbone while curling her fingers in his chest hair. “Mmm,” she purred. “I love your scent and your taste. I just want to eat you up, Woodrow.” “Dechrista.” His breathing deepened and his palms stroked her shoulders and back as she ran her tongue across his rock hard chest. Soft hair and hot skin teased her tongue and lips. Upon reaching his

nipple, she pierced it with the tip of one fang and licked the droplet of blood that beaded there. She sensed the tremor that ran through him was one of pure desire. Grinning, she slashed her tongue across his ribs and down his well muscled abs. She knelt in front of him and tugged down his pants while swirling her tongue around his navel. “What if somebody comes in here?” “Your hearing is superior even among vampires. You’ll hear them.” “Oh, God. Not if you keep doing this!” She buried her lips in the base of his cock and began squeezing his balls. Woodrow’s breathing quickened and his thighs tightened. Unable to resist, she ran her hands up and down his legs while laving his cock as if it was a giant Popsicle. Instead of cold and firm, he was hot and hard as steel. Dechrista could have licked him all night, but that would be cruel to both of them. Clutching his buttocks, she moaned with pleasure. His ass was hard and taut. It strained along with his hips that were thrusting slightly. She knew he was holding back, controlling the desire to thrust his cock into her mouth. Moistening her lips with her tongue, Dechrista removed a hand from his bottom and curled her fist around his staff, holding it steady. Slowly, she took the red, throbbing head into her mouth. Deeper and deeper she sucked until he brushed the back of her throat. He groaned, an agonized sound of pleasure-pain. Withdrawing his cock so the tip of it rested against her lower lip, she sank her fangs in slightly. The taste of his blood combined with the power of his desire had her wet and ready. Shivers of passion ran up and down her spine. Her nipples tingled and her clit and pussy lips ached with need. She wiggled her hips and pressed her thighs together in an attempt to appease the sexual tension threatening to kill her. All the while, she continued nipping, licking, and sucking his cock. “Stop, Dechrista.” She ignored him completely and continued feasting on his erection, her eyes closed tightly. Suddenly he grasped her shoulders and shoved her away. His panting breath mingled with hers. He reached for her pants and tugged them down. Purring and growling with pleasure, she allowed him to mold her body into the position he desired. On all fours, Dechrista braced her hands against the floor and thrust her bottom toward him. Grasping her hips, he rubbed his stiff cock over her buttocks, first against one soft, smooth cheek, then the other. Hauling her closer, the tip of his cock found her pussy lips and he slowly entered her from behind. Dechrista’s pulse raced. The position combined with their throaty, vampiric growls reminded her of savage beasts mating. The thought excited her so much that she couldn’t control herself and thrust backward in an attempt to spur him on. Woodrow tightened his grip on her and thrust hard and fast. One of his hands slipped lower and found her clit. His long, graceful fingers rubbed her swollen, pulsing flesh. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her neck felt as if it had burst into flames.

“Oh, yes! Woodrow. Don’t stop. It feels great. Please!” With several more swift thrusts, she exploded in a black haze of fulfillment. Her pussy clamped hard around his cock, pulsing on and on until she thought the orgasm would never end. Then he came. Panting and growling, his body strained into hers. His hot, damp palms clung to her hips as he filled her with his passion. Rolling onto his back, he tugged her to his heaving chest and laughed. “What’s funny?” “I’ve never been this happy in my life.” Giggling, she kissed his mouth and stroked damp locks of hair from his forehead. “I’m glad because I’ve never been this happy, either.” Tenderly, he cupped her cheek in his hand and used his thumb to stroke her lips. His smile faded, replaced by an almost questioning look. “Something wrong, Woodrow?” “No. Nothing’s wrong.” She didn’t quite believe him and attempted to read his mind. All she sensed were feelings of relaxed fulfillment and affection for her. Either she had been wrong in guessing something had upset him, or he was deliberately hiding his thoughts. One day she hoped they would trust each other enough that no secrets would exist between them. *** Ferocious energy and pure bliss surged through Dechrista as she closed her eyes tightly and sank her fangs deeper into smooth, salty flesh. She drank greedily, thirsty after another night of rough training with Mel. A short time ago, she had been tired and her muscles sore, but with the taste of blood came a rush of extraordinary power. It was like the greatest high, the most wonderful -“Dechrista, stop.” A familiar voice penetrated her bloodlust trance. It sounded very far off, and it was telling her something she didn’t want to hear. “Dechrista!” Strong hands grasped her arms almost painfully. “Stop it now!” She moaned in protest, but those steely fingers tightened and tugged so hard that her fangs tore away from the flesh in which they were buried. “Damn it,” Woodrow snapped, placing a hand to the ragged wound on his neck. Her vision cleared and she noticed how angry he looked, not that she blamed him. She knew another lecture was coming, and while she deserved it, she didn’t want to hear it.

“You have got to learn how to control yourself.” “I know. I know. I know.” “No, obviously you don’t know.” He reached for a napkin and wiped his neck which had already begun to heal. “Had I been mortal, you would have killed me. Do you want to kill somebody, Dechrista?” “No, damn it! I do not want to kill somebody.” “Some vampires enjoy killing --” “Well, I don’t.” “I didn’t think so.” “Then why did you fucking ask? I swear, Woodrow, you say shit like this just to goad me!” “Stop swearing so much.” “You swear.” “But not every other word.” “Is this lesson about swearing or not killing?” His jaw tightened visibly. “You think it’s some kind of joke? Control is the most important part of biting.” “I’m trying. Shit, Woodrow, I’ve only been a vampire for two weeks. When I get that thirsty, it’s really hard to control myself. Too hard. Everything is too hard. The training with Mel. All the other lessons. It’s like you want to turn me into some kind of fucking fanged genius overnight.” Dechrista stomped across the room. “Where are you going?” “Out.” She slammed the door so hard that the wall shook and she almost winced. His hearing was even more sensitive than hers, and she hoped the sound had hurt him. Two weeks she had been living at Burgundy Peak. Two weeks of study, punishing exercise, and lesson after lesson in how to be the perfect vampire. The cons of her new life were definitely starting to outweigh the pros. When Woodrow told her she had the potential to do whatever she wanted, part of her had actually believed him. Like always, she was running so fast down a dead end that she was about to hit the wall. She hurried down the steps. “Dechrista.” “Leave me alone, Woodrow.”

“I want to talk to you.” “Enough lectures for one day.” He grasped her arm and she tried pulling away, but he held her hard. “Sit.” “I don’t want to sit.” His grip loosened and he cupped her face in his hand. “Just for a minute.” Dropping onto the steps, she suddenly felt choked by tears. That sign of weakness only made her angrier. He tried to wipe her face with his fingertips, but she jerked away from his touch. “I’m sorry I lost my temper with you.” “I tore off half your neck.” “It wasn’t nearly that bad, and you are getting better. When you don’t lose yourself in the bloodlust, you’re actually a very good biter.” She laughed. The whole situation was ridiculous. “I thought having all this power might be fun, but I’m not meant for this, Woodrow.” “When I was first changed, there were times when I hated my Master for making me a vampire, even though it had been my choice. Sometimes I thought he wanted to change me just to see how a blind vampire would survive. Then one day it struck me that he gave me this gift because he cared about me and believed in me. He knew I would make a great vampire.” “I’m not you, and Herb sure as hell ain’t Master Zigor. For us, it was a night of cheap sex that went too far. Herb didn’t care about me or believe in me.” “But I do.” He slipped his arm around her and drew her close. Sighing deeply, Dechrista buried her face in his chest and closed her eyes, hoping his faith wasn’t misplaced.

Chapter Seven

One month later, Dechrista could hardly believe how much her life had changed. She had enrolled in night courses to earn her high school diploma, and was studying voice and harp with Woodrow. Though he undertook most of her training as a vampire, she also learned from his acquaintances at Burgundy Peak. She enjoyed fighting practice with Mel and learning the art of blood tasting from the bartender, but the lessons in ancient vampire history with the mysterious Onan unsettled her. The powerful, dark vampire was almost as frightening as Master Zigor, but not quite.

Gratefully, she and the Master hadn’t crossed paths since the night he’d first confronted her and Woodrow. One evening, after finishing her workout with Mel, Dechrista lay on her bed studying for her night school test the following evening while Woodrow played the harp. She closed her eyes for a moment, losing herself in the music. Placing her book aside, she approached him and slid her hand over his shoulders, relishing the hardness of his muscles and the power he emanated. Watching a virile hunk of man play such a beautiful instrument was an incredible turn-on. He stopped, his graceful fingers plucking out the last notes, reminding her of how those same fingers often danced across her nipples. He treated her body with the same reverence as the magnificent stringed instrument. Grasping one of her hands, he kissed the back of it. “Want to sing?” he asked. “I always want to sing. You know that, Woodrow.” “Good.” He reached for his cane and headed for the door. “Coming?” “I thought you wanted me to sing?” “Not here. Downstairs.” “You mean in the club? Won’t that piss the Master off if he finds out?” “I think it’s about time for the Master to eat a very educational meal. It’s called crow.” “Huh?” “Just come with me.” “Can I at least fix myself up a little first? I haven’t sung in public since I worked at Jack’s bar.” “Meet me downstairs in twenty minutes.” Woodrow had added a full-length mirror to the back of the door for her. Dechrista touched up her hair and makeup. Her understated black sweater and blue jeans were snug enough to accentuate her feminine curves without appearing smutty. Actually, she had to admit she looked pretty damn good in all her new clothes. Pushing a loose curl behind her ear, she admired the simple pearl earrings on her lobes and the matching strand of pearls around her neck. Before moving to Burgundy Peak, she had never worn genuine stones of any kind. For the next several minutes, she warmed up her voice. She had never felt nervous about performing until now. What was she afraid of? As she descended the steps and entered the club, she realized it wasn’t so much fear as the desire to please Woodrow. She wanted to make a great impression for his sake as well as her own. No sooner had she stepped into the club than Woodrow’s telepathic voice spoke to her.Dechrista ? She turned to where he stood off to the side of the door she had just stepped through.

“Hey.” She took his arm. “Want me to scope out a booth?” “No. Just approach the pianist. He’s a friend and is expecting you to join him for a couple of songs.” “What should I sing?” “Anything we’ve worked on together. He knows all my music.” “Was he a student too?” “Just an old colleague. Go on. Have fun.” Fun. Right. She glanced around the club at the guests as well as the help. She didn’t doubt that every last one of them was older and more experienced than she was. Even though she was a vampire, she wondered if she would ever feel comfortable around others of her kind. Relax, Dechrista. Yours will be among the most beautiful voices they will ever hear. You’re just saying that to make me feel good. Don’t you know by now that I say nothing without meaning it? That was true enough. She had felt the sting of his honest observations more times than she cared to remember. One of the things that pissed her off most about him was that he could take as good as he gave and expected complete honesty from her and those around him. Dechrista approached the piano and waited off to the side until the musician finished his piece. She glanced around, noting that Woodrow had taken a booth in the farthest, darkest corner of the room. He could have at least sat a little closer. The piano player stood and turned to her. “Dechrista? I am Dima.” She noted his deep voice carried the hint of an accent she couldn’t quite place. He extended his hand and she slipped hers into it. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me do this. It’s been a while.” “Any student of Woodrow’s can play with me at any time.” He bowed over her hand in a strange yet most flattering manner. “And such a lovely student.” Smiling slightly, she tugged her hand away and glanced in Woodrow’s direction. Dima noticed the look. “Woodrow is a remarkable vampire,” said the pianist. “Yes. He is.” “Well, shall we go on?”

*** Even from the booth across the club, Woodrow’s keen hearing picked up the conversation between Dima and Dechrista. He caught the aroma of Dima’s attraction to her, and though he sensed she was flattered by the charming vampire, he detected no interest in either her thoughts or her scent. Strange, but he had actually been a bit concerned that she would desire his old friend. Dima’s pleasant personality combined with his Romanian accent always seemed to lure women. Perhaps that was why he kept the accent though he hadn’t lived in his homeland for over three centuries. Woodrow had never before been jealous of his students finding friends and lovers, yet when it came to Dechrista, everything was different. Though it was inevitable that she form relationships with other vampires, whether in friendship or lust, he feared losing her. The woman’s soul had entwined with his in a way he had never imagined possible. As much as he had once longed for musical and financial success, he now longed to share eternity with her. He pushed aside his thoughts when she began to sing, accompanied by Dima’s elegant piano music. Though she still required much more training, her voice was gorgeous, her pitch perfect, and her phrasing lovely. Not only was she talented, but he could sense through the thoughts of those watching her that she carried herself with grace and dignity. He didn’t doubt that one day she would attain the fame she longed for. Catching the scents of Master Zigor and Mel, Woodrow smiled as they approached. Though he had concealed it quickly, Zigor had been unable to hide his initial surprise upon seeing how much Dechrista had changed. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m using your booth, Master.” “I trust it is because you knew I would be here tonight and you wanted to show me your success thus far.” “Thus far?” “She is still young.” Woodrow’s anger bristled and his hand tightened on his cane. When it came to his achievements alone, Zigor’s harshness scarcely affected him, yet he couldn’t seem to accept it when directed at Dechrista. He heard Mel and Zigor slide into the seat across the table. “I think she sounds great,” Mel said. For several moments, they sat in silence, listening to the song. Woodrow knew Zigor was impressed with Dechrista, yet the man hated to admit that he might have been wrong about her. Finally, the ancient Master said, “You have done well. At times, Woodrow, I almost believe you are a magician.” Woodrow’s heart swelled with pride. “It’s not me. It’s her. I’ve never had a student try harder or with such enthusiasm.” “Melinda and Onan have also been singing her praises for weeks.”

“I told you she was working out fine,” Mel said. Across the room, Dechrista’s perfect voice soothed and stirred vampiric senses. The guests willingly expressed their pleasure with applause at the end of her set. “Oh, Woodrow.” Mel’s voice was teasing. “Dima’s kissing her hand and flashing his fangs. Better watch out he doesn’t try to make a move on her.” “Melinda, enough. Why must women always try to cause trouble?” “I’m just playing with him, Zigor. You have to relax.” “I intend to see that you help me relax completely as soon as we go upstairs.” Mel fell silent, though Woodrow heard her heartbeat quicken with anticipation. Zigor was irresistible to most people, and his wife was certainly no exception. His thoughts were interrupted by Dechrista’s voice in his head. Woodrow, what are you doing over there? Come join us. No. Zigor’s there. Please, my beautiful Dechrista. You know I can’t resist when you ask me like that. A moment later, he felt her hand on his shoulder and he slid deeper into the booth to accommodate her. Still, she remained standing and he knew she expected another confrontation with the Master. “Hi, Mel.” Dechrista spoke with confidence, though Woodrow sensed her discomfort. “Master Zigor, hello.” “Dechrista. Your performance was well done.” “Thank you.” She sounded surprised. Reaching for her arm, Woodrow tugged her into the seat beside him. “Are you enjoying your lessons in vampirism?” asked the Master. “Yes, most of them.” “It’s just the fighting practice that stinks sometimes, right?” Mel chuckled. “You break too many fingernails.” “Actually it’s the last part of biting when I need to withdraw my fangs that gives me trouble. I’m still a little rough.”

“That will come in time,” Zigor told her. “And there are some people who appreciate such roughness.” Dechrista uttered a soft laugh. “Yes, I’ve heard.” “Space has become available in Burgundy Peak, and if you would like your own room, it may be arranged.” Zigor’s offer stunned Woodrow so much that he forgot to concentrate on Dechrista’s reaction to possibly moving out of his room. Then he felt her in his head, prodding in a way she hoped was stealthy, though she was still too inexperienced to carry it off. What’s wrong, Dechrista? Do you want me to take the room? Woodrow was careful to shield from her how much he longed for her to stay with him. The last thing he wanted was to thwart her desires or her chance for independence, should she wish it.Do you want to leave ? I’m invading your privacy. Dechrista, you may stay with me for as long as you want. Honestly? You know I’m always honest. Woodrow knew that Zigor and Mel were probably very aware of their telepathic conversation, yet they kept a respectful silence. “Thank you for the offer, Master Zigor, but I don’t need a room.” Her words sent Woodrow’s heart soaring. “I see. Good luck with your training, Dechrista, and goodnight to you both. Melinda, it’s time for us to go up.” “Check you guys later,” Mel said. Her scent faded along with Zigor’s as they left the club. Dechrista released a deep breath. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Zigor didn’t seem so mean tonight.” “I think it had something to do with your attitude changing as well.” “Onan’s been teaching me a lot about the ancients and how respect and power mean so much to them. I guess once you figure out what’s in a person’s head, it’s simple to get along with them.” “You’re close, but not exactly right.” “What do you mean?”

“It’s not what’s in their head that matters most, but what’s in their heart.” “That’s only for people who have one. I’m still not sure that Master of yours does.” “He just hides it well. Would you like to dance?” Woodrow actually sensed her smile. “I thought you’d never ask.” Together, they walked to the dance floor as Dima and the three-piece band who had joined him played a slow, sensual love song. Dechrista’s arms slid around Woodrow’s neck and he held her, inhaling the arousing scent of her hair and loving the way her head rested against his shoulder. Dancing with her was almost as good as making love. *** The following evening, Woodrow left Burgundy Peak for a couple of hours to join Dima at his hotel where the men discussed the possibility of working together on some new music for the pianist’s upcoming CD. Dechrista would be at night school for a few hours, then afterward she had practice with Mel. He hoped to return just in time to share dinner with her and accompany her on a hunt. Her skills had grown rapidly, and other than the minor problem of withdrawing her fangs too roughly, she would soon be ready to hunt on her own. Though he enjoyed talking business with Dima, his thoughts kept drifting to Dechrista. By the time he returned to Burgundy Peak, he could scarcely wait to take her in his arms. Even before he reached his room, a barrage of wonderful scents struck him. Warm bread, butter, tomatoes, olives, romaine lettuce, chocolate, cherry, mint, vanilla, lemon, orange, coconut, rose, lilac, peony, sage, licorice, and so many more that his head spun with pleasure. He opened the door and stepped inside. “Dechrista, what have you done in here?” “You’ll see -- or smell and feel. How did everything go with Dima?” “Very well. How was the test?” “I don’t want to sound overconfident, but I think I got an A.” “I wouldn’t doubt it.” “Enough about school and work. Tonight, I have a surprise for you.” “What kind of surprise?” “You’ll like it. Trust me.” “I was going to take you out to eat, but it smells like you have all kinds of food here.” “Dinner is all ready. Mel and I ended our practice early so I could come up here, shower, and shave every possible place you like smooth, which I did. I am also wearing silk panties and nothing else.”

“Nothing?” Woodrow’s cock leapt awake and he reached for her. “Come on, Dechrista. Don’t make me chase you.” Her giggle warmed him from head to toe. “You go in the bathroom and take a shower. I bought you new silk boxers which are hanging on the towel rack to your left when you walk in the door.” “New?” “All yours are black, white, or blue. These are multicolored polka dots.” “If they turn you on, I’ll go for it.” “Good. Once you’re in the bathroom, don’t come out until I say you can.” “You’re kidding, right?” “Nope. Now go.” She grasped his wrist and dragged him to the bathroom. Though he tried to sneak a feel of her curves, she slipped from his groping hand. She slapped his buttocks playfully before shoving him in the bathroom and closing the door. Woodrow couldn’t help smiling as he reached for the boxers which were just where she said. They were extraordinarily soft, exactly as he liked them. Sighing with contentment, he imagined how terrific they would feel against his cock, though not nearly as great as her hot, wet sheath enveloping it. He undressed and stepped into the shower. Though his heartbeat raced with anticipation, he washed slowly, giving her time to make her preparations. Woodrow loved surprises, but he seldom received them. Beyond the running water, the sound of soft piano music drifted from the bedroom. The marvelous scents also grew stronger, and he could scarcely wait to see what she had planned. He stepped out of the shower, combed his hair, and tugged on the new boxers. “You can come out now.” Woodrow opened the door, but before he stepped out, she pressed her hand to his chest. “I have stuff on the floor. Just wanted to let you know.” “What stuff?” He inhaled deeply. The scent of roses was almost overwhelming. “It’s part of the surprise. Get in bed. That’s where we’re eating.” “Good. I’m starved.” He reached for her and playfully licked her from throat to nipple. Giggling, she pushed him away. “Quit trying to ruin my surprise!” He growled playfully, but dropped his hold on her and took a step forward. The floor was covered with an ultra soft and somewhat cool cushion that teased the soles of his feet. It was a carpet of rose petals. With each step, the floral scent grew stronger as the petals crushed beneath his feet. When he reached the bed, he ran his hands over satin sheets that carried the subtle scent of vanilla. He

stretched out on them, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against the pillowcase. The mattress sank a bit when she climbed onto the bed and pressed her body close to his. Her silky smooth leg draped him, her knee nudging his cock the slightest bit. Wrapping his arms around her, he stroked the soft flesh of her shoulders, back, and arms while her hand swept him from throat to groin. She curled her fingers in his chest hair and kissed him. How he loved her kisses. Her mouth was so warm and moist. She tasted of mint and chocolate. “Did you save any for me?” he asked. “Any what?” “Chocolate.” She turned away for a moment, then touched her finger to his lips. He licked chocolate syrup from it. Not just any syrup, but the richest, creamiest candy melted down. Playfully, he took her finger between his lips and sucked it. She laughed and kissed him, her lips also chocolaty. He licked her lips, then thrust his tongue into her mouth while rolling her onto her back. Though he loved chocolate, her kisses were far sweeter. The sensation of her bare breasts pressed against his chest and his cock trapped between their bodies aroused him so much that he could have taken her then and there. As if sensing his impatience, she broke the kiss. “Hold on, Woody. I’ve only just begun.” Burying his lips between her shoulder and neck, he murmured, “You know I hate it when you call me that.” “I get the feeling you’ll forgive me by the end of the night.” She slipped from beneath him and straddled him. His cock rested against her bottom cheeks. Something large and soft caressed his face and swept across his chest. He caught it in his hands and caressed the shape of the fat, fragrant flower. “Peony. It feels nice.” “Good, because I have a lot of different things for you to feel tonight.” “Like?” “You’ll find out. For the next few minutes, I want you to let me touch you all over.” His heart pounded and his cock swelled even more. “Whatever you say.” “But I don’t want you to penetrate me.” This game thoroughly excited him. It was the kind of lovemaking he enjoyed most but which few partners indulged in. Most of them thought it took too long or made little sense. They enjoyed instant gratification. Dechrista had obviously learned the value of prolonged stimulation. “Do you promise?” she whispered against his lips. “Yes, I promise.” “Good.” She slid down his legs while tracing his ribs and groin with the peony. She caressed his inner

thighs with the flower and finally used it to tickle the soles of his feet. “Roll onto your stomach,” she said, moving off the bed. By the time he settled comfortably in the position she’d ordered, she was seated beside him again. Dozens of soft velvet tails swept from the back of his neck to his buttocks. The tender lashing continued over and over. Not in the least painful, it was like the most soothing caress of soft, alien tongues. “Mmm. I like this.” “It’s a specially designed flogger. Mel had one of Master Zigor’s acquaintances make it for me.” She had obviously spent much time planning this evening. Knowing that touched him deeply. “Here’s another,” she said. The velvet tails changed to thin strips of silk that kissed his back and buttocks. The silk trailed lower, lashing the backs of his thighs and calves all the way to the bottoms of his feet. Next came a flogger made of feathers that tickled his lower back before she asked him to turn over. The subtle sensations aroused him more than rough touches ever could. His cock ached and throbbed, though he guessed it would have to wait even longer before it was appeased. Pushing his thighs apart, Dechrista knelt between them and used the feather to tickle the joining of his hips. The tips of the feathers danced across his cockhead, then swept up and down the staff. “God, Dechrista, I want you so much.” “You’re having fun, then?” “You know I am.” “Good.” He reached for her, but once again she eluded him. Woodrow gasped at the sensation of ice on his nipple. His belly clenched as she trailed the frozen cube across his chest to his other nipple, then followed the same path with her tongue. Woodrow buried his fingers in her hair and closed his eyes tightly. Her fangs pierced his nipple, stabbing him with ecstasy. “Oh, my love,” he murmured, catching the scent of his own blood before she licked it all away. While she nipped and sucked, she ran the ice cube over his abs and ribs until it melted completely. Her cool, wet hand wrapped around his cock. She stroked and pumped, sending ripples of pleasure coursing through him. Edging lower, she clasped the root of his cock with both hands and flicked her tongue over the ultra-sensitive head. Woodrow resisted the urge to writhe and buck against her. He pressed her head close, concentrating on the echo of their heartbeats and the sound of her tongue lapping his erection.

She drew back and his cock popped free of her lips. Panting, he waited, wondering what she had planned next. Taking his face in her hands, she kissed his mouth. She had slipped her hands into fuzzy mittens that tickled his flesh as they slid down his cheeks and neck to his shoulders. She rubbed in slow circles down his arms and over his entire torso. Her hands swept down his stomach, and she began kissing his chest and ribs. The soft, warm mitts rubbed over his thighs and knees all the way to his feet. Her lips followed the trail of her hands over his body until all he was aware of were the sensations she created and the sound of his own anxious breathing. She seemed to know exactly what he wanted and had no reserves about providing it for him. He wondered if she realized how much he loved her and how part of his soul would die when it came time for her to leave him? Better not to think of such things or else the wonderful mood she had created would be ruined. “Oh, Woodrow, there’s more I want to do, but I don’t think I can wait any longer.” The scent of her arousal was strong. He felt the slickness between her legs as she straddled him and rubbed against his erection. “I think we’ve waited long enough.” He grasped her waist and ran his fingertips over her smooth flesh. “At least for now. We still have all… night… Dechrista…” Words eluded him, for she had grasped his cock and lowered herself upon it. That was by far the best sensation of the evening. She was so hot, wet, and snug around his steely erection. Her fingers entwined with his and she rocked hard upon him, faster and faster, until he was on the verge of losing control. With a wail of pleasure, she came, her pussy throbbing around his cock, sending him over the edge of passion. He bucked and lunged upward, thrusting even deeper inside her. Groaning and growling in savage delight, he exploded within her. Dechrista melted onto him and rested her head against his shoulder. She stroked his chest while he tenderly caressed her back. Finally, she lifted her head. “Are you hungry?” “Starving.” “Sit up.” He did as she asked. Moments later, she cuddled next to him and held a chunk of bread smothered in creamy butter to his lips. She placed half of the loaf in his hand, and they fed each other from it. Next she placed a bowl of salad on his lap. “No forks?” “Not tonight. We’re going to be bad and eat everything with our fingers.” They finished the salad the same as they had the bread, slipping fresh lettuce leaves, slices of tomato, and fat olives into each other’s mouths. When the bowl was empty, Dechrista took it from him and left the bed. She placed something on the night table beside him, then straddled him again. “Now for the best part. Dessert. On the night table, I’ve placed a tray with a bunch of cups each filled

with something really good, and this is what I want us to do with it.” Using her fingertips, she smeared something smooth and sticky along the side of his neck. It smelled strongly of mint, rather like the creamy filling in a mint chocolate. She used her tongue to lick it away. Next she held a maraschino cherry to his lips. He took it, licking her fingertips as he did so. “Okay. I’m into this.” He reached onto the night table and found one of the little ceramic cups, much like the teacups in a Chinese restaurant. Dipping his fingers in, he felt a thin, watery liquid which he smeared on her mouth. “Umm.” He flicked his tongue over her lips, tasting coconut juice. While he reached for a different cup, she painted his navel with warm chocolate sauce. Three of his fingers found a thick, fluffy substance that he rubbed on her nipple. The taste of lemon frosting delighted him, but not nearly as much as the sensation of her nipple growing stiff beneath his tongue and lips. Placing a hand to his cheek, Dechrista guided him away from her breasts and used her lips to offer him a slice of orange. He took it, chewing and swallowing quickly so that he could kiss her before she moved away. Shifting her position slightly, Dechrista mounted him. Once again Woodrow’s stiff cock was surrounded by her hot, pulsing flesh. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her with all the love and passion he felt. His tongue explored every inch of her mouth and gently raked across her fangs. He bit her lower lip and sucked her essence while she rocked faster upon him. She gasped and moaned, her pussy slick and soft against his cock. He held her tightly, never breaking the kiss, even when they came almost simultaneously, their heated bodies grinding together and their tongues lashing one another while their hearts pounded as one. *** “Dechrista?” “Um?” she murmured, a bit sleepy after nearly a whole night of lovemaking. The evening had turned out to be even more perfect than she expected, mostly because she knew Woodrow had thoroughly enjoyed himself. She had planned everything with great care. From the moment they met, he had done so much for her, yet she hadn’t been able to think of a way to really thank him. An evening of pure sensation, just for him, seemed to be a good way, and she had been right. Though his love and attention were unfaltering, part of him always seemed to hold back when she tried to lavish affection on him in return. It was as if he thought that because she was maturing as a vampire, she would suddenly outgrow him too. In spite of his reserved veneer, Woodrow possessed strong emotions. His sensitivity and compassion made him a wonderful mentor, but a reluctant lover. Yet several times tonight he had lost such complete control of himself that his barest emotions reached her telepathically. In those brief moments she felt such complete happiness from him that she knew she had done the right thing by planning this evening. “Let’s get dressed. I want to show you something.” She sat up, brushing hair from her face. “What is it?” “We need to hurry if we want to get there before dawn.” He slipped from the bed and she followed him. “Get where?” “You’ll see.”

Less than an hour later, they stepped out of a cab in front of a large old Victorian house. It was painted gray with black trim and surrounded by a fence of tall fir trees. Woodrow paid the driver who then drove away, leaving them alone on the dark street just before the break of dawn. “This is my house,” he said. “It’s beautiful.” “You still need more training, Dechrista, but at this point you no longer need to live with me, so I’m going to move back here.” A pang of sadness struck her, followed by anger. Was he trying to get rid of her? After the night they had, after she had given him her heart, after -“You’re under no obligation to accompany me. No matter what you decide, I will train you for as long as you need me.” “Are you trying to break up with me?” “No. I’m trying like hell to make it easy for you to live your own life when I want you to stay with me so badly I can taste it.” Giddiness swept through her and she hugged him tightly. “I love you more than anything, Woodrow.” “I love you too. Now let’s go inside before the sun comes up. There’s a lot I want to show you. The library, the music room, the gym --” “How about the bedroom?” “Most definitely the bedroom.”

Chapter Eight Six Months Later

“You’re sure you don’t want to come with me tonight?” Dechrista glanced at Woodrow, who sat beside her in the front seat of her new car he’d given her when she’d finally gotten her driver’s license. Though she enjoyed the material gifts he showered upon her, nothing thrilled and honored her more than the songs he had written just for her to sing, and no one had ever made her feel as loved and protected as he did. She parked in front of the house and stepped out, inhaling deeply, savoring the cool night air while she stared at the window to their second floor bedroom. In spite of her hunger for blood, she would have preferred spending the night with him. “Yes. I really need to work. Have a good time with your friends.”

“I won’t be long.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m looking forward to spending at least some of the night with you.” He smiled and tugged her close. “Then I’ll work fast.” “You do that.” Grasping his tie, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Her tongue slipped between his lips. He wrapped an arm around her waist, his tongue meeting hers, stroking and caressing. “I will.” “I’m meeting them at Burgundy Peak. We’re getting blood from some of the club’s regular donors, so if you decide you want a break, join us.” “Maybe I will.” “Good.” She kissed him again. “I want to show you off.” He chuckled. “Show me off? Like a pet.” “No, but if you want to get into petting, I’m all for it.” “Keep that in mind for later. It’ll help me write faster.” Inside the house, Dechrista changed clothes for an evening out while Woodrow retired to his music room to work on several songs he was writing for one of his former students, now a famous opera singer. Sometimes Dechrista still felt a bit intimidated by Woodrow’s relations. In spite of her misgivings, he told her she was one of the most enthusiastic and dedicated learners he had ever worked with, both as a vampire and as a singer. He said her voice was so hauntingly beautiful that he could lose himself in it. For the first time in her life, she began to feel that her dream of singing professionally might actually come true, though not in the way she had imagined. A year ago, she had pictured herself singing to crowds of screaming kids, living the decadent life of a rock star. Now all she wanted was to sing music for the sheer beauty of it and to share that beauty with others. Rather than wallowing in drugs, alcohol, and a variety of sex partners, she wanted to spend her personal life with Woodrow, talking with him, making love with him, sharing her very soul with him. Before leaving to meet her friends, she paused outside the door of Woodrow’s music room. Strains of piano music drifted from behind the soundproofed walls which couldn’t hide sounds from vampiric ears. See you tonight, my love. I’m looking forward to it, Dechrista. Warmth filled her, as it always did when she felt him in her mind. Smiling, she left the house. *** “Dechrista, we almost thought you weren’t going to show.” Al, a handsome blond vampire, stood as Dechrista approached the table. Al was among the four young vampires Dechrista had recently befriended. All were attractive and

bubbling with their newly found power, yet none appealed to her as much as Woodrow. She couldn’t understand why he believed she would ever want to leave a man for these boys. Al and the others were fun to hang out with and good practice for honing skills when she didn’t want to hunt alone, but she couldn’t imagine sharing eternity with them. She took the only seat left at the table, the one beside Al. “Sorry. My teacher and I spent the day together and got home later than expected.” Robbie lifted his beer to her, then took a swallow. “You must have some teacher. At least from what you tell us.” “He’s the best.” “I wouldn’t mind getting a look at him,” Al muttered. “Maybe I can convince him to put you on a longer leash, sweet thing.” Al leaned closer to kiss Dechrista’s cheek, but she pushed him away and laughed. “Give it up, will you, Al?” “He’s still heartbroken that you’ve rejected him over and over,” Lee said, grinning and wiggling his groomed black eyebrows. “Sometimes, Al, friendship is best, especially when a woman is in love with someone else. Didn’t your teacher ever give you a lesson in pride?” “He taught me to go after what I wanted.” Al took a drink from his glass of vodka. Though he tried to appear cool, Dechrista sensed his annoyance. Sometimes she wondered if Al really liked her or if he wanted her because she continued to refuse his advances. With a vamp like him, it was hard to be sure if his actions were ruled by his heart or his ego. “You know, this is our first time at Burgundy Peak.” Salvador, a lithe sandy-haired vampire with piercing blue eyes, glanced around the club. “Nice. Rumor has it this place has the best escorts in town. I’m dying to sink my fangs into one of them.” “And I hear it’s safe too,” Lee added. “Master Zigor’s protection is excellent,” Dechrista said. Salvador grinned. “Master? Getting ancient on us, Dechrista?” “She’s right, guys,” Al said, using a fingertip to caress the lip of his glass. “My teacher says Zigor is one of the oldest, most respected vampires in the world. Messing with him is like committing suicide.” “But we don’t have to worry. Dechrista has an ‘in’ with him, since she used to live here.” “No, do worry. No one has anin with Master Zigor, except maybe his wife. Trust me,” Dechrista said, slipping out of her coat and placing it over the back of her chair. She smoothed her knee-length crimson dress. It had been made especially for her, and was subtly sexy. Looking back, she realized Woodrow had been right about her old wardrobe. It had no class or style, but simply showed off legs, butt, and cleavage. The group continued talking over a bottle of blood laced wine and were about to arrange for companion

donors for the evening when Dechrista caught Woodrow’s familiar scent. Funny how her pulse still raced just from his aroma. “He’s here.” She smiled, glancing around the club. Salvador’s brow furrowed in question. “My teacher.” “Wonderful,” Al muttered. “The god of vamps has arrived.” Woodrow stepped into the club looking as handsome and refined as ever in a tailor-made suit that accentuated his height and the breadth of his shoulders. The snake cane added an eerie yet sophisticated touch. “What’s up with the sunglasses?” Al wrinkled his nose. “Must think he looks cool or something.” “He’s blind, jackass,” Salvador whispered. Dechrista glanced at her friends, sensing their surprise and discomfort. She couldn’t question them about it, however, since Woodrow had nearly reached the table. She stood and kissed his cheek. “Glad you came. This is Al, Salvador, Lee, and Robbie. Gentlemen, this is Woodrow, my teacher.” “Hey.” Salvador lifted his glass. Robbie and Lee also offered a short greeting, but Al simply stared at Woodrow with a look of contempt. “Hello.” Woodrow sounded uncharacteristically stiff. “Dechrista has told me so much about all of you that I wanted to meet her friends for myself.” “She sure didn’t tell us everything about you,” Lee muttered. “How do you mean?” “Nothing.” “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get a drink.” “I could use another belt myself.” Al reached for the wine bottle and took a drink directly from it. “Be back in a moment.” Woodrow touched Dechrista’s cheek and brushed her mouth with a kiss. Waves of disgust and jealously emanated from Al. Woodrow turned in the young man’s direction before walking to the bar. “Dechrista, are you nuts?” Al glared at her once Woodrow had gone. “Why are you with that guy?” Dechrista’s anger bristled. “Excuse me?”

“Al.” Robbie held up his hand, then turned to Dechrista. “It’s just that we didn’t think your teacher was like that.” “Like what?” “How do you expect to learn survival from a blind vampire?” Al snapped. “Listen to me, I know you had a bad time because your creator left you. Woodrow was the only one around at the time to help you out and he’s obviously taken advantage of you.” Dechrista glared at him. “You’re out of line.” “All he means is that you need a teacher who can show you how to really survive using all your powers.” Salvador touched her hand, but she jerked away. “Whether you want to admit it or not, in our world, it’s survival of the fittest. A vampire like him should never have been made. It’s not fair to him and it looks bad for the rest of us.” Dechrista’s anger was reaching a dangerous level. She could scarcely believe the arrogance and stupidity of her so-called friends. “The first lesson from my teacher was the weak don’t deserve to live,” Al stated. “Leave him, Dechrista. You deserve better. If I talk to him, I’m sure my teacher will take you on and give you the real training you need to survive.” “My teacher also said if you cannot defend yourself and your possessions, then you deserve to lose them,” Robbie said. “Take Al’s offer, Dechrista. For your own sake.” “All of you and your teachers combined can’t measure up to half the vampire Woodrow is.” Dechrista stood, her heart pounding with rage. Al touched her arm. “Dechrista, listen.” She tore away from his grasp and bared her fangs. “Touch me again and you’ll never see another moonrise.” Grasping her coat, she hurried to the bar. *** Woodrow stood at the bar, his pulse racing with anger and a touch of fear. Not fear of those ignorant young fools with Dechrista, but fear of her siding against him. In spite of what Master Zigor taught, Woodrow knew how important it was for vampires to have the companionship of other vampires. They were social creatures, most of whom detested the thought of spending eternity alone. No matter how much he loved Dechrista and how his heart broke at the thought of losing her, he would never try to sway her from what she thought she needed. Thus far they had been lucky. The prejudice that was rampant among his kind hadn’t yet touched them. His deepest fear had always been how she would react if it came between acceptance by her peers and her love for him. Listening to her defend him, he felt ashamed for ever doubting her. Those young fools spoke to her in whispers, undetectable to the human ear and nearly impossible for a vampire to hear without straining, yet Woodrow’s refined sense of hearing picked up their conversation

easily. Not only that, their prejudice was like a sour stink on the air. An even worse reek was the anger and jealousy emanating from the boy Dechrista had introduced as Al. Leave him, Dechrista. You deserve better. If I talk to him, I’m sure my teacher will take you on and give you the real training you need to survive. Woodrow’s hand tightened so hard on his glass that it broke. Shards stuck in his palm. Feeling for them, he pulled them out. “You okay?” The bartender approached and began cleaning up the mess. Woodrow nodded. “May I have a towel?” As he wiped the blood from his palm, he felt the wounds healing almost instantly. Moments later, Dechrista joined him. By the rhythm of her pulse and breathing, he knew she was enraged. She took his injured hand. “What happened?” “Just clumsy.” “Come on, Woodrow, we’re getting out of here.” “All right.” She slipped her arm through his as they walked out the door. “I am so fucking mad!” she snarled, her heels clicking furiously on the sidewalk. “I know I said I’d try not to swear anymore, but I can’t help it tonight.” “If you stay with me, you’ll have to accustom yourself to the ignorance of such vampires.” “You heard?” “Of course I did.” “I’m sorry I asked you to come.” “I’m glad you did.” “Why?” “Because it was a lesson I couldn’t teach without their help.” Pausing, he tugged her into his arms and brushed her lips with a kiss. “I love you, Dechrista.” “I love you too, Woodrow.” Neither spoke much during the ride home, but he sensed her thoughts. The purity of her love touched him in a way he had never imagined possible. If he had thought for a moment she would have been happier without him, he would have left her with those other vampires at Burgundy Peak and wished her well. He despised them, but it seemed his affection for her knew no bounds. In his relatively short life, he

had fathered many vampires and loved each of them, but this was a different kind of love. It transcended every part of his life and breached the barrier he had unknowingly built around his heart. He never expected to find a companion for life, least of all in a young woman with such a wild spirit. When they arrived home, Woodrow returned to his music room where he planned to finish the work he had left earlier. He should have guessed trying to concentrate would be impossible. He had grown accustomed to confrontations with others of his kind, but because Dechrista was involved this time, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about what happened at Burgundy Peak. “Woodrow.” Dechrista stepped into the room. Her presence surprised him, since she never usually bothered him when he wrote songs. “Yes?” Her hand fell lightly on his shoulder, then she squeezed it as she slipped onto his lap. Straddling him, she looped her arms around his neck and covered his mouth with a tender kiss. “You would have let me continue seeing them, wouldn’t you, even after what they said?” “I would never keep you from the company of other vampires.” “Even cruel, stupid ones?” “It’s not for me to make your choices.” “I could never be friends with anyone who doesn’t respect you. I guess it’s like when you demanded Zigor respect me.” Her pulse quickened and her fists clenched against his shoulders. “I should have done more than told them off.” He laughed. “Like what? Tear out their throats?” “They deserved it.” “Fighting for defense is one thing. Fighting for the hell of it is another.” “It would have been inyour defense.” “How can you think I would want you to fight for me?” His hands slid up her back, caressing her bare flesh. A more careful study revealed that she wore only a lace bra and panties. “You’re not meant to fight, Dechrista. You’re meant to love.” “So are you.” She slipped off his glasses and placed them aside. His eyes closed as she swept her fingertips over them and across his cheekbones. She touched every inch of his face and followed each caress with a kiss. Woodrow’s cock twitched and swelled. She rocked against it, purring softly. There were no words to describe the depth of his love for her. She was part of him, her soul forever entwined with his. She traced the shape of his lips with her tongue before thrusting it into his mouth. Woodrow’s tongue met it, stroking and caressing while he unfastened her bra and let it drop to the floor. Holding her close, he ran his fingertips up and down her spine. He stroked her ribs and grasped her waist, pushing her back

slightly so he could fondle her breasts. While his sensitive fingertips circled and stroked her nipples, she unfastened his belt, unzipped his pants, and freed his straining cock. Grasping the base of his cock, Dechrista purred, a distinctly vampire and wickedly sexy sound. Edging closer, she guided his erection into her slick, hot pussy. Woodrow closed his eyes and arched his head back, drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly. She rocked atop him, uttering soft, erotic sounds that to him were more beautiful than the sweetest music. Her fingers sank into his shoulders, gripping him harder as passion grew. “I love you, Woodrow,” she said in a breathless whisper. “My heart is yours forever, Dechrista.” She buried her lips in his neck and bit. Her entire body pulsed with pleasure as she drank his blood and came at the same time. Woodrow’s hips lunged upward, driving deeper into her throbbing body. Just before he exploded, he nipped her shoulder. Tasting her sweet elixir, he came so long and hard that his legs trembled and his heart pounded like it hadn’t in centuries. *** The following night, while Woodrow ran some errands, Dechrista drove to Burgundy Peak to spend time with Mel. Afterward, she invited Mel and Zigor home for dinner, and was shocked when the Master accepted. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight.” Dechrista glanced at Mel and Zigor’s reflection in the rearview mirror of her car. She knew Woodrow cared deeply for his Master. This dinner would prove that she and Zigor had truly put the past behind them. “Woodrow will be surprised.” As soon as she turned into the driveway, she caught the scent of blood. Woodrow’s blood. “Oh my God.” Dechrista jammed on the brakes and flung the car into park. Fear overtook her when she detected bloody footprints leading up the walk to the front door. To further her terror, the door was unlocked. Followed closely by Zigor and Mel, she stepped into the house. The blood trail wound up the staircase. “Woodrow?” she called, bounding up the steps, her friends behind her. “Answer me!” A glance in the bathroom revealed a pile of red stained clothes. By the droplets of water and blood clinging to the tile, the shower had been recently used. “Dechrista.” Woodrow appeared in the bedroom doorway, his face stark against his dark glasses. A bloody slash marred his right cheek. “What happened?” Dechrista touched his face, her pulse racing. “Nothing.” “Don’t lie to me! You’ve been cut with silver.”

“You were attacked,” Zigor stated. “Don’t try to block your thoughts from me.” “Why not?” “Who was it?” Dechrista grasped Woodrow’s hands, her thoughts touching his. He shut her out, but not before she discovered the identities of his attackers. “Al and Robbie? Those bastards! They had no right.” “Young ones could not do this to you,” Zigor said. Woodrow sighed. “Al’s teacher accompanied them. He was old and very experienced.” Zigor’s jaw tightened and his fists clenched. “His teacher is as good as dead.” “He already is. I’m grateful for your loyalty, Master, but I’m not a novice anymore. I can take care of myself and my charges.” “You killed them?” Dechrista embraced Woodrow tightly. “You’re sure you’re all right?” “I will be.” “I love you, Woodrow. I love you so much.” I love you, Dechrista. His telepathic voice caressed her mind, warming her, soothing away her fears and filling her with the greatest love she had ever known.

Epilogue Two years later

Beneath his dark glasses, Woodrow closed his eyes, relishing the beauty of Dechrista’s voice as she sang in a solo performance on a London stage. Over the past couple of years, she had become one of the world’s best-known and loved vocalists. He wrote her music and managed her career, but did so quietly in the sidelines. She had always been the more outgoing of the two of them. With her loveliness, charm, and talent, she swept the world off its feet, just as he had always known she would. “She’s fantastic,” Herb whispered from where he sat in the front row beside Woodrow. “To think I let you have her.” Woodrow sighed, a faint smile on his lips. It seemed Herb would never change or grow. “You did a wonderful job with her, Master.” “Only because she is wonderful.” “But you had to go and marry her? That’s not fair to the rest of us guys, you know.”

“That’s not my problem, Herb,” Woodrow murmured, his concentration focused completely on Dechrista. “But you always said never commit to somebody who hasn’t been a vampire for at least a decade.” “Shh. I came to listen to Dechrista, not to you.” Her song had ended and Herb’s hand on his elbow signaled that he should stand and join the ovation. He knew Dechrista would be accepting the crowd’s approval gracefully in spite of the excitement he sensed from her. She always loved the applause. Woodrow? How was I? Outstanding, as always. When we get out of here, you know what I want? Tell me. To go to our hotel room so you can wrap me in silk, then make love to me until the sun rises. It’s funny how much we have in common, my love. Funny, but wonderful.

The End For now…

Blood and Soul 4: Intimate Relations

Love affairs between Intimates are next to impossible, yet from the moment Autumn Arienn catches his scent and gazes into his eyes, she desires Rolon Adler, an ancient alpha vampire. In spite of the passion burning them like molten silver, Autumn rebels against giving up the power she has fought so hard to achieve. Aggressive females usually hold little charm for Rolon, yet his attraction to Autumn is almost uncontrollable. Death has already taken his creator from him, and Rolon is not prepared to risk his heart again. Still, he cannot keep away from the magnificent vampiress who stirs him like no woman he has ever known.

Kate Hill

Kate Hill’s fiction and poetry have appeared in publications both on and off the Internet. When she’s not writing, Kate enjoys reading, working out, spending time with her family, and hunting for vampires. For research purposes, of course. Visit her online at www.kate-hill.com