His Captive Mortal (A Vampire Romance)

Maybe I don’t want to know that. I hurry into work, looking forward to getting a boost from the children.

“Aurelia-aaa!” several shout when I walk in. Willie zips over in his wheelchair to greet me, and Shelly and Matt run over and hug me. I greet the kids and fall into my routine of supervising their free time, dinner and recreation.

“What are we doing tonight?” Shelly asks after dinner. I always lead them in one last recreation activity before bedtime, a chance to get their last wiggles out before they wind down.

“We’re playing charades,” I announce in an excited tone accompanied by jazz hands.

“Yay!” the kids cheer.

“Who’s ready?”

“I am, I am,” goes the chorus.

Those who want to play gather up, and I begin the game, splitting the group into teams and taking the first card for my team. I stand on the stage, trying to get my team to say Mission Impossible, which seemed to be a mission impossible in itself. These kids have no idea who Tom Cruise is. I pantomime the best I can while the kids giggle. “Fast and the Furious,” Gwen joins in, laughing. I roll my eyes at her.

And then I freeze.

Charlie stands in the doorway, his arms folded across his muscled chest, a bemused expression on his face.

Holy forking shizz. He came to my place of work. What is he thinking?

The timer goes off, and the kids gleefully inform me that I lost. I superglue a beaming smile on my face and head to my group, not looking at Charlie. But I’m well aware of exactly where in the room he is. May as well be a giant blinking light on a map. Vampire alert!

Gwen turns and visibly starts at the vampire. Her jaw goes slack. Either she’s stunned to silence by Charlie’s good looks, or she knows something’s wrong.

Before I can call her name or head over, her expression turns blank. She looks away from Charlie, almost past him, and continues cleaning up as if she didn’t realize he was there.

Did Charlie just hypnotize my co-worker? Dang it. What other havoc will he wreak here?

He saunters my way.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss under my breath when he reaches my side.

He shrugs. “I told you. You won’t be rid of me until you’ve lifted the curse.”

“But I’m working. You need to leave—right now.”

“Ah, luv.” He folds his arms. “Who’s going to make me?”

My fists clench automatically, but I have absolutely no way to make him do anything. Putting up with his presence at home was one thing, but to think I endangered these innocent children by exposing them to a vampire makes me want to puke.

The kids don’t seem to notice him. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

I lean towards him, anger burning through me. “If you so much as touch—”

“I’m not here to harm the children,” he interrupts, appearing offended.

“Why are you here?”

“We have work to do. After sundown is my best time of day. Hence, I will be working here with you.”

Her shoulders sag. “No way.”

“Then change your schedule to work days,” he says, like it’s that simple.

I grit my teeth to keep from cursing out the arrogant fang boy. “I would love to, but it’s not up to me. I’m low woman on the totem pole around here.”

He cocks his head. “Is the person in charge of that decision here tonight?”

My stomach lurches. What would he do?

“Yes,” I say, warily. “Why? What are you going to do, hypnotize her?”

“Why not?”

“Well, it may not be so simple. Like perhaps she doesn’t have anyone to switch me with, or management has a rule against…”

“Where is she?” he cuts me off.

I stare at him, my thoughts tumbling. On one hand, I would prefer to work days, so what harm could there be in trying? On the other hand, the more the vampire interferes in my life, the more complicated things might become.

Or maybe it’ll all turn out all right. I put a hand on my stomach to steady it. “Edith Johnson—tall, salt and pepper hair. Her office is down that hall on the right.”

He winks. “I’ll be right back.”

I half expect him to simply disappear as he did the night before, but he turns and walks away, the muscles of his back rippling under his tight shirt, the faded seat of his jeans molding to his ass.

“Miss Aurelia!” I tear my thoughts away from my arrogant vampire’s perfect butt. It’s my team’s turn again, and the children want me to do the charades.

Unfortunately, two of the children begin arguing over the answer, and one of them, Tommy, an eight-year-old with impulse control issues, among other things, goes to grab the other child. I intercede, restraining him in the way we were taught, his arms crossed over his chest with me holding him from behind in an embrace as I speak calming words.