Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae 1)

She took another couple of steps and grabbed the glowing clock radio before turning it toward the bed. Platinum-blonde hair caught her notice. The scowler! Just as Charity had thought, she lay nude on top of the covers, her hands at her sides and legs straight. Her eyelids flickered and her eyeballs moved under the skin, as though she were in an intense REM cycle.

Beside her lay an equally nude man with an incredibly defined body and a great set of arms crossed over his chest. He was trying to make himself smaller so the woman would fit in the bed. On his neck, nearly lost to the shadows, was a trickle of liquid seeping from a gash.

Was that…?

Charity leaned in a little.

That was blood. The woman had gone for an overzealous hickey and actually drawn blood.

It was not just punch. It was a special elixir to prepare your body for the transformation into a vampire. Taking a vampire’s blood will complete the change.

Charity’s disbelieving though incredibly uncomfortable chuckle disturbed the near silence of the room. She shook her head, flicking her glance down the bed. Between strong thighs stood a large erection.

Charity jerked back, and her face flamed in the darkness. The man’s eyes snapped open. His head fell to the side and his gaze landed on her.

“Hmm. You smell delicious,” he said, sexy and sinful and sensual. “I am ready for you.”

“Good God.” Charity staggered backward. “No, no. Ha! Ha. No. I’m just… I was in here, see?” Why did she suddenly sound like a nineteen-thirties gangster? “I was sleeping on that other bed, and you came in…”

“I can handle one more. The previous specimens were fairly weak in their need.” He rose like a mummy in an old-timey movie, his torso lifting up with no turning or help from his hands. “But you… I can feel the strength in you. The power. Are you human? What are you?”

“Grossed out, mostly.” She took another step back. “Honestly, this is a simple matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t mean to spy. I was just wondering why someone broke into my room.”

“It is not your room. It is Vlad’s room, and he has given leave for his children to use it. You are not ready to cross over. Did he put you here as a refreshing snack? He is a thoughtful master.”

“Good God,” Charity said again, reaching down to grab Sam’s shoes. “You’re talking crazy. Everyone at this damn party is talking crazy. This is no place for a person like me. I have no sense of humor.”

“I can lick the humor into you.”

“That’s…not…flattering for you.” She hurried toward the door. She could fight him off, sure, but his dick’s standing ovation was disconcerting. It’d be best if she got the hell out of there.

He bounced off the bed like he’d been ejected and landed on the floor next to it, his knees bent to absorb the impact. He straightened up slowly, and the soft glow of the clock revealed the smile curling his lips. “You’re gorgeous. A refined, pixie-like beauty. All natural. I love it. I hope you taste as good as you smell.”

“Nope.” She reached for the handle, hardly believing what she’d just seen. This guy should be in the naked Olympics or something. “Jesus, man, put that thing away.”

He surged forward, a little jerky but incredibly fast despite it. She ripped the door open, her body in flee mode. She’d never fought a naked guy coated in sex, and she really didn’t want to start now.

His reaching fingers grabbed the side of the door. She stopped, planted a foot, and side-kicked with the other. Her foot hit the man’s chest center mass. The sound of material ripping competed with his grunt as the loudest thing in the room. She’d ripped Sam’s dress.

“Damn it,” she said as he flew back. “Look what you made me do!”

She plunged into the hall, the scuffling behind her electrifying her body. She started jogging as pounding feet ran behind her. The kick hadn’t deterred him. He was coming after her!

Before she could decide to run faster, yell, or turn and confront her fear of bodily fluids smeared on a naked man, a door swung open ahead, emitting a ghastly creature born in a nightmare. Long, matted hair fell over bony shoulders. Breasts like deflated balloons drooped from a skeletal, greenish chest, the skin hollowed between a xylophone of ribs. A ghastly face hissed, showing two huge fangs protruding from black gums.

“Holy fuck-tarts, what the fuck?” Charity said, dodging a reaching claw-like hand, its nails ending in sharp points. Horror blocked out her thoughts. The discomfort from a moment before turned into full-fledged panic.

More doors swung open, strange howls ripping at the night. Charity ran so fast that she could barely feel her legs. She hit the stairs, taking them two at a time, hearing animal-like thumping behind her.