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Authors: Dicey Grenor

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What could I say?
I’m
sorry
? Well, I wasn’t. I was full.
Finally.
And I
was high from the potency of his blood. I’d always heard human blood had
nothing on supernatural blood in terms of power. Now I knew.
Remi’s
blood was comparable in taste, but not energy. I
felt like singing hey-diddle-diddle and jumping over the moon.

We walked a short
distance in silence until we came upon his white truck. He must have moved it
because it had been in the club parking lot earlier.

He helped me in
even though we both knew I didn’t need help. He was such a gentleman. Maybe I
was a
little
sorry that I’d used him. But he’d offered.

“You think Fire
will keep my secret?” I asked just as we pulled up to my motel.

I’d actually had
him stop a few doors down and pretended we’d arrived right in front of my door.
He’d let me feed from him, but I wasn’t ready to trust him knowing I was a
vampire AND knowing where I rested during the day. That’s when most vampires
were killed—in broad daylight...in their own lairs. You never could be too
careful.

“She keeps mine,”
he said, like that solved everything.

“But she’ll be
pissed with me after what just happened.” Why did he have to be one of the
honest guys and tell her about me at all?

“I think she’ll
understand just this one time. Anything beyond this and I’m moving to Canada to
get away from her wrath.”

“Well, thanks for
the ride.”
And the blood.
And the
orgasm.

This was probably
a bad time to tell him one of the effects of me having his blood was us being
more drawn to each other. Even though we hadn’t actually had sex, having a
metaphysical relationship with him was potentially more damaging than a
physical one.

No good deed goes
unpunished.

But I wasn’t his
first vampire. He knew the deal.

“Wait, I’m coming
in to make sure no one’s lurking,” he said.

A vivid image of
Punch lying across my bed, exposing his neck for me to feed came to mind. I
licked my lips. My cookie tightened involuntarily. The thought of him in my
room was arousing. I’d never had a visitor. Not even Max had been here in the
flesh.
 

Punch had said
Fire would forgive just the one time. This would be pushing it. “I don’t think
that’s a good idea. Why don’t you just watch as I make it to the door? Don’t
get out unless you see I need help.”

He grunted then
started grinding his jaw, but he didn’t get out. I jumped out while I had the
chance and quickly scanned the lot.

Hair on the back
of my neck stood up. I had a strange feeling someone was waiting for me. I
sniffed the air, recognized the smell. That motherfucker! How did he know where
to find me?

I smiled at Punch,
pretending everything was cool. He needed to get back to Hades, back to Fire.

“I think the coast
is clear,” I said.
Like hell it is.
“You can go now.”

He scanned the lot
too with his enhanced senses…eyes first, then nose, then ears. He noticed
people driving up, getting out of their cars. He noticed pedestrians on the
sidewalk. But he didn’t notice a potential threat. Everything looked normal to
him, because he hadn’t had blood from the man hiding in the bushes.

“I’ll wait ’til
you get to the door, like you said.”

“Suit yourself.” I
got out, waved, and made my way to room #10. Mine was actually #3.

When I got to the
door, I pulled out my keycard and waved goodbye. I hoped he’d just leave. He
did.

I waited until
Punch had driven to the exit and turned onto the highway. Then I intentionally
dropped my keycard and bent to pick it up. I knew the vehicle parked in front
of me blocked the view for the man in the bushes. It was the perfect
smokescreen.

Moving with super
speed, faster than the eye could see, I ran to the far corner where I was
well-hidden by the garbage dumpster. To anyone watching, it would have looked
like I’d disappeared.

As suspected, my
stalker looked around wildly. His brain couldn’t process that I was there one
moment and gone the next. Then he messed up. He came from behind the bushes
into the lot and light, looking around like he’d lost his poodle. I moved with
lightning speed again. This time when he turned, he ran smack dab into me.

And
screamed.

“What the fuck are
you doing here,
Remi
?”

 
 
 
 

Chapter 5

 

He breathed in and
out again and again. Fast.
Too fast.
He was
hyperventilating.

I laughed.

I’d intended to
use the element of surprise in my favor, but I hadn’t meant for him to be
scared to death. But this was
Remi
. He loved death.
Loved fear.
He began to laugh too.

“Answer the
question,
Remi
,” I said in my no-nonsense, serious
tone.
Enough of the funnies.

“I wanted to see
you.”

“How did you know
I’d be here?”

“I followed you
one night.”

I thought about
it. I normally walked really fast, but sometimes I strolled, took my time and
appreciated the darkness. His turning up unexpectedly sure seemed like a
warning that I needed to be more careful. Being sloppy could have dire
consequences. Call me crazy, but I enjoyed being undead. Getting caught was not
an option.

“That’s creepy,
Remi
. You shouldn’t follow a girl home.”

“I love you,
Willow. I’d follow you anywhere.”

“The destination
is of little relevance, sweetie. You shouldn’t follow a girl, period.”

He jammed one hand
in the pocket of his jeans. “I can’t help myself. Seeing you once a week at
Hades isn’t enough.” He reached his other hand out to me.

I stepped back,
reluctant to touch him.
Scared to encourage him.
“Then come more often. I work most nights except
Sundays and Mondays. I treat Sunday like the Sabbath and have other things to
do on Mondays.”

“I can only come
on Saturdays.”

“Well, I don’t
know what to tell you. If you follow me again, I’m going to call the cops.”

“No you won’t.” He
smirked and stepped forward, closer.

“You’re right. I
won’t. There’re worse things I could do to you than call the cops.”

He flinched, then
took another step forward and smiled. “Like what?” His stare was creepy and
sexy at the same time.

He wasn’t daring
me to do something to him on the off-chance I might be bluffing. He was baiting
me, begging me to do something bad. Do something dangerous, something evil to
him. He got off on that.

He was close
enough to kiss…those beautiful, perky, kissable lips. I thought about it,
almost did it, until I smelled cigarettes. It overshadowed his cologne. Damn.
He was too gorgeous to smoke. I fed from him because it was convenient, he was
eye candy and his blood tasted rich. But I hated that he smoked. I never
complained though because I knew it helped relax him.
And
because I was usually too hungry to care.

Looked
like he could use a smoke now.
He seemed especially twitchy tonight,
amped up on testosterone or maybe he’d had a rough day and had come to Hades,
to
me
to unwind.

I could captivate
his mind, erase memories of the motel, but I didn’t know how long he’d known.
It was possibly part of his long-term memory by now. In fact, I’d been bleeding
him and tampering with his brain for so long, I wasn’t sure how well it worked
on him anymore.

Max had warned me
about long-term human blood donors and the unpredictable effects our mental
manipulations had on their brains. He longed for the return of days when
captivation wasn’t necessary for openly feeding off humans. In the meantime, he
kept a few human pets. If one wasn’t available, he’d procure unwilling humans
and kill them, erasing their memories of him permanently. I still bothered with
the mental crap all for the sake of following the commandment against murder.
Max used captivation for less menial stuff like forcing tycoons to sign over
their assets.

I wasn’t too
worried about
Remi
getting suspicious and
ratting
me out though. If he ever detected punctures from my
blood draws, he’d cover the wounds in public and admire them privately like a
marked lover. And I was careful not to get carried away when he asked me to cut
him with razor blades. I was sure to cut in the same pattern across old scars
on his wrists where he’d tried to off himself.

Captivating
Remi’s
brain was just an extra precaution.

“Can I come in? I
didn’t see you after your act. You know I need to see you.”

“No, you can’t
come in. I didn’t invite you here.”

“Why didn’t you
come to me afterwards? I looked for you.”

“I was attacked.”
I held up my wrist showing the makeshift bandage. He could also see where I’d
wiped Punch’s blood on my sleeve. It all added to painting the picture that I’d
been hurt even though there was no longer a real injury.

“What?!
Really?
What happened?” He sounded surprised, angry.

“He said he was a
fan. Then he
maced
me and tried to rape me.” Better
to leave out Punch’s suspicions about abduction being a motive. Or that my
attacker suspected I was a vampire.

 
“Were you hurt? Did he use a weapon?” He no
longer sounded angry. His voice was lower, edgier. In fact, he looked too damn
eager to know details. His blood pumped too excitedly.

“Don’t you dare
get excited about someone hurting me,
Remi
.

“I’m sorry,
Willow. You know I can’t help it. That’s why I love you. You don’t judge me. I
know I’m a creep but…” he looked down and kicked a pebble, “I need you.”

I’d used him every
Saturday night for blood. He’d used me for sexual release. That’s the way it
was. Just because I’d had blood already, didn’t seem fair that he couldn’t get
what he needed also, his weekly fix.

Damn straight I
could take care of him tonight, help him lose the edge.

Hoped I wouldn’t
regret it.

“No, I wasn’t
hurt.” I linked my arm around his. “C’mon,” I said with resolve.

He walked with me
to my room, and then inside. Over the window curtains draped heavy blankets to
keep out sunlight, so my room was pitch dark at night. Too dark for him to see
yet I could see fine.
Didn’t keep him from touching me
though.
From pulling me close. From holding the back of my head until my
face was mashed up to his and his tongue was down my throat. He’d latched on to
my tongue like a vacuum.
Sucking.
Moaning.
Pushing me towards the center of the room.
Towards the bed.

Before I had even
kicked the door shut.

He’d never been
this aggressive before. Meant I wasn’t the only one who’d been close to losing
control tonight. But what exactly did that mean for him? Had he been close to
letting his addiction to death get out of hand? Did that involve killing
someone? Or trying to kill
himself
again?

He palmed my ass
with eager hands and pressed himself against me roughly. I felt his dick
straining his jeans, poking my leg, begging to be put to use. When his thumb
traced along my elastic waist and tugged my panties and sweat pants downward, I
realized he intended to take me right here, right now.

My sense of
decency had me pulling away from
Remi
, but he held on
tighter, squeezing my ass cheeks like they were footballs and he was headed to
the end zone.

He was merely
human, and unless he had a tube of holy water like my attacker from earlier, I
could easily break away from him. Seemed rude to toss him out after inviting
him in, but
dammit
, he was being presumptuous. I
never said I’d fuck him. I merely intended to lie still, “play” dead for him
while he pleasured himself.
Nothing new.

I willingly gave
him that release in exchange for the life force he unknowingly gave me. Small
price to pay for a regular blood source and it eliminated guilt for taking ten
vials of his blood without consent. Mutual satisfaction kept me from breaking
the commandment
thou
shalt
not steal.
An
orgasm in exchange for blood equaled fair payment in my book.

We’d had the same
arrangement since he’d first started coming to Hades. He’d walked in fine as
hell—tall, dark, and crazy. I knew it the moment he’d pinned his metallic blue,
silver-looking stare on me. I’d wanted to bite him, fuck him, and run away at
the same time. Nevertheless, he came week after week and I couldn’t stay away
from him.

We’d never had
deep conversation though he’d mentioned being a wealthy Israeli. Oh, yeah…he’d
also said he loved my complexion and curvy body, loved my performances,
loved
…me. But he’d never pressed the issue of penetration,
which was good because that would lead to complications I didn’t need. His
self-control had helped me stick to my plan of captivating him, bleeding him,
milking him, and getting the hell
outta
dodge before
anyone noticed my kit full of red vials.

Now, he was
ruining it.

I pulled away,
forcefully this time and turned on the nearest lamp. After readjusting my
clothes I said, “I need to shower.” He would think it was a result of my
performance instead of earlier events with Punch.

“Oh. Yeah. Right,”
he said, looking as if he was returning to his body. “Can I join you?”

BOOK: 1 Dicey Grenor
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