His Captive Mortal (A Vampire Romance)

Tommy thrashes with more strength than I might guess a child of his size would have, and I almost lose my grip.

The cool scent of Charlie’s cologne hits me before I realize the vampire is back. He’s at my side faster than humanly possible. I jump and Tommy fights harder.

“Everything’s all right, Tommy. Take it easy. Breathe,” I soothe.

“Look at me, Tommy,” Charlie says.

“No, don’t!” I snap, my heart racing.

My panic only fuels the boy’s, and he frees one hand, which smacks me in the face. I catch his wrist again and pull it to his waist. This situation’s getting worse. First of all, if the other counselors show up to help, I have Charlie’s presence to explain. Unless he glamors them all, Tommy included. But most of all, I don’t trust him not to hurt the boy or cause trouble.

But Charlie catches Tommy’s eye, and the boy’s body softens and relaxes. I ease my hold on him, and he turns around and hugs me. “Sorry, ‘Relia,” he chirps, his fit completely vanished. I hug him back. “It’s okay, Tommy.”

I shoot a glance at Charlie, and the vampire arches a brow. “See? No harm done. Now he’s happy.”

Charlie

If looks could kill, Aurelia’s would’ve bound and staked me instantly. But when I saw her struggling with the boy, an irrational protective urge surged, even though she had a handle on the situation. I acted automatically.

I shouldn’t have interfered.

I dematerialize, tracing to Eclipse, a bar on Congress Street owned by a werewolf named Garrett. A powerful vampire named Lucius is in the process of taking over Tucson. He already has a club established, but I’d rather not attract his attention. This werewolf bar is open to all sorts, and as long as I don’t cause trouble, the shifters won’t tell Lucius I’ve been here.

I order a Stoli and Seven and sit down on a bar stool. A group of cheetahs play pool in the back. A few mutter “leech” in my direction, but I ignore them. No love lost between vampires and shifters. Not that I’ve gotten along with many of my own kind either. But I enjoy Eclipse. There’s a certain comfort in hanging with other creatures of the night. No need to explain my presence or intentions at Eclipse—no one asks questions here.

A pink-haired bartender slides my drink across. She’s mortal, but I doubt she knows what’s really going on in this club. Some humans are attracted to paranormals. Like the goth crowd—many of them have an affinity to vampires whether they recognize them or not.

“How’s it going?” the woman purrs, leaning over the bar to give me a full display of her stunning cleavage.

“Well,” I answer as blandly as I can.

“Well, what?”

“It’s going well. How are things here?” The small talk bores me, as does the human’s attempt to flirt. The cheetahs at the pool table are shooting more dirty looks in my direction. Garrett only employs his wolves as bouncers, but his pack is well allied, and the cheetah shifters won’t hesitate to act as enforcers if I give them a reason.

Meanwhile, the bartender squeezes her arms against the sides of her breasts with her upper arms, so they move together and forward, like an offering.

Unbidden, the image of Aurelia’s lovely pair rises in my mind. I remember the flustered little sound she made when I sliced off her bra with my teeth. I plan to do so much more to her. I can hardly wait to do all the things I imagine. She’s so responsive, it’ll be a joy to train her to be mine—

But no.

That’s not why I’m here. I’m not training her to be mine, I’m using her to free myself of the curse. Period. End of story.

I don’t need to get involved with another Fae in any sort of romantic fashion. Already, my little Tinkerbell is dredging up emotions I’d happily forgotten existed. Like guilt.

I nurse a drink until midnight, when I walk out and trace to Aurelia’s workplace. My little mortal has already exited, walking down the sidewalk with small, tight strides.

“Where’s the bubble?” I drawl. I take one stride to her two, but my leisurely pace overtakes her.

She quickens her steps, her nose pointed to the sky. I don’t have to catch her scent to know she’s mad at me.

I stroll alongside her, hands in pockets. “I don’t think I like you walking home alone at night. Do you always use the bubble or just when you see vampires?”

She doesn’t answer.

“I caution you not to use that bubble around vampires unless you really have to. You don’t want someone less savory than I taking an interest in you.”

“Vampires less savory than you? God forbid,” she mutters. She doesn’t turn to look at me as she continues to stomp up the street.

“There are,” I say, thinking of vampires I’ve met over my lifetime. Most view humans as chattel, food. “And they would drain you, Aurelia, the moment they saw your power.”