Big Game (The V V Inn, Book 3) (14 page)

She smiles and settles back on the couch, dropping her head back and snuggling into the deep cushion. “Spike was what I nick-named boy’s ‘parts’ when I was growing up. Think about it…those jutting spikes of flesh. I couldn’t resist.”

She’s positively adorable with those long eyelashes batting at me… what did she just say? Spikes of flesh? I smile in return. “Yeah, that makes sense. Guy’s dicks are like spikes.”

She busts out laughing. Crap, did I say that stupid shit out loud? Man, you’d think I’d never been with a girl before. Then again, after I left Romeo’s pack at the age of twenty-one and hooked up with Vivian six months later, I really hadn’t had a chance to just relax around someone in a normal situation in a long time.

I mirror her pose and hunker down into the soft confines of the couch, happy for this stolen moment of shared intimacy, even if I am sounding like an ass at times. “Hey, back on track. So, what is your name?”

She leans over, sliding onto the middle cushion to broach the distance between us. “My name is Candy.”

“Mmmm?” I’m lost in her eyes, staring into the caramel depths. I wonder if she tastes like candy, too.

“Why don’t you find out?” She presses her lips softly to mine.

I don’t have time to contemplate that I must have muttered my ramblings out loud before heat races through my veins and lights a fire deep in my gut. Her soft lips mold to mine. After a few slow heartbeats, her tiny, pointed tongue pokes between my lips, diving into my mouth with abandon.

With a low moan I open and cup her head in my hands, pulling her across the couch to spill onto my lap. The spicy, sweet taste of the peppermint she ate floods my senses and fills my brain with clarity. I find that I really don’t care if she is a he. Or if he is a she.

As my cock starts to grow in my pants and my mind is curiously free of all distractions, there is one thing am I certain of—this is a puzzle I’m going to enjoy solving.

Paul

“What’s a guy to do
hours before dawn and his friends are all in bed?” It’s a rhetorical question, obviously. I don’t think the pots and pans are going to start answering me now after ten years of talking to them when I’m alone.

I get out the fixins for a huge cauldron of one of my famous soups. I like to simmer the concoction for hours, then chill it over night in the fridge, and let it cook again the next day. Or in this case, swap the days and nights, and I’ll be reheating when I wake late this afternoon.

I’ve been attempting to stay up past sunrise each day, little by little. The lull of a vampire’s sleep pulls hard at my consciousness within an hour after sunrise, but with the weak sunlight this time of year I’m usually able to stay huddled awake in a semi-aware state longer—if I’m in total darkness.

A couple of hours past sunrise and I see a hint of gray sunlight peeking around a bend, my limbs weaken with every breath. I have no idea how Vivian does it. She could stay up around the clock and barely have a hair out of place. By noon I look like a stumbling drunk who needs to have his stomach pumped after a night of serious binge drinking.

Chopping vegetables while pre-made beef stock simmers with beans reminds me of home. Our whole family loves my soups. Thinking of them has me glancing at the kitchen clock. Bunny likes to call me before bed, even when I’m locked in the basement of the resort, and sometimes I get lucky and she’s feeling frisky for a little phone sex.

The petite woman has a larger than life personality and accepted my changed state in stride. She has a level head and knew if I could control my blood urges, this alteration in my existence would be the best chance our children could get to know their father.

Almost dying last fall has brought our family closer, even though the kids don’t understand what happened. We told them I started a new diet to explain the weight loss, and that I took a double day shift so Mom could do her share in the home schooling program with the other mothers on the resort. They seem content with those answers, for now. When they get older, who knows? We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

I grab the small remote off the counter and click on some music from the docking station across the room. My collection is an eclectic mix, and soon the notes from one of Coldplay’s older albums fill the room. The rhythm of chopping and dumping veggies in the pot soothes my mind and soul, reminding me once again why I love to cook. The smell of the spices, the chemistry of combining the ingredients in the right steps to create a unique meal… aside from my family, cooking is the one thing that truly makes me feel whole.

One song ends and another begins. The loose notes of the background guitar accentuate the drawn out male voice and draw me willingly into the music. My body sways side to side while I pick spices, stirring memories of Bunny and me cooking together at home with our children sleeping nearby. I miss her by my side, lip-syncing with a wooden spoon… and whacking me on the ass with it every now and then to get a rise from me.

A sultry voice breaks into my musing. “You look sexy when you move your hips like that.”

I whip around to find one of the delectable twins leaning against the archway between the kitchen and game wing. I don’t know which one she is, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing here at this hour. She’s either up very late or very early. Long dark hair spills over one shoulder, and a smile that could either be sleepy or calculated, curves her full lips. She’s bundled up in a thick, gold robe and one bare leg peeks through the open fabric, long and lean and ending with a fuzzy high-heeled slipper.

“W-What are you doing up so late?” I ask.

She shrugs and approaches the stove. “Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d see who was up.” She grabs a clean spoon and tastes the broth. “Hmmm… yum.” She licks the metal and locks eyes with me. “You’re more experienced than you look, no?”

Desire coils in my gut, and I fight with every fiber in my being to not lean forward and sniff the air near her. She looks like she’d enjoy it and who knows where it could lead… My fangs itch, and I practically jump two feet away, closer to the sink. “Yes,” I squeak. “I’ve been cooking professionally for almost two decades.”

One slim, sexy eyebrow rises as she skims me over from head to toe. She lowers the spoon to the counter and steps toward me. “Really? You don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

I thought all the staff here knew what we were, but now, I’m not so sure. My gaze jumps around the kitchen, looking for a distraction to put more distance between the two of us. My eyes land on the carafe of bloodcoffee and I lunge to the pot. I fumble with my empty mug and pour the reddish brown liquid.

“Gee, thanks. Good diet and exercise, you know.”

Her eyes widen slightly, as if knowing and challenging my statement. If she does know, why is she here with me right now? Does she want to provoke me to bite her? None of the ladies at the inn act like this around me and I’m at a loss on how to handle myself.

I take a long drink from my mug, hoping to quell the tide of desire coursing through me. I don’t think Bunny or Vivian would be happy if they knew what was filling my mind. God, why the hell did I stare at her ass before? Did she see me? Did I somehow ask for this tonight? I’m not even sure which one she is.

“So, it’s Carmella, right?”

She shakes her head and steps closer. “No, I’m Mina.”

I nod and look away. My mind scampers for a safe topic of conversation, hoping she’ll soon get bored and wander off. “Er… umm… how do you like the island?”

She laughs softly, a feminine tinkle of sound that draws my eye back to her, as I’m sure she intended. “Shouldn’t I be asking you? After all, you’re the guest.”

The dark haired beauty reaches for my mug and pulls it from my hand. She sets it on the counter without looking and steps nearer, almost brushing her tight tits against my chest.

“I’m married,” I blurt out and step back. My heart pounds in my chest, something it’s rarely done the past few months. I swing my eyes to the other side of the kitchen island. My fangs fully descended and my traitorous cock hardens behind my fly.

She laughs again. “I don’t see your wife here.”

Shit! Where are the others? Surely I can’t be the only one awake? A frantic, trapped panic squeezes my heart, making me feel like I’m going to puke. I bet vomiting up a bunch of blood and coffee all over her robe would be the trick to turn her off.

How do the others stare into someone’s eyes and control them? Vivian hasn’t taught me how to do it yet, and I have to admit, I’ve been scared to try it on my own. Could I mess her up if I do it wrong? Could I hurt her somehow?

I turn back and stare her deep in the eyes. Doing my best to channel Obi Wan, I use my closest
these are not the droids you’re looking for
voice and say, “You don’t want me. I’m not your type.”

My direct stare doesn’t seem to carry any weight and she steps closer, running a hand up my chest. “Oh? You seem exactly like my type.”

Fuck. That didn’t work. Wonder if there is some trick to it. The others make it look so easy. Then again, it’s not something they often do in front of me so maybe I need to play closer attention. Or ask how they do it. I bet that would help.

Her hand trails up and cups the back of my neck. The warmth of her palm slides over my exposed skin, her fingers tangling in my hair. “Cool, composed, and powerful,” she whispers.

She leans in, angling her mouth to kiss me, and I jerk back. This kind of thing never happened when I was an overweight cook—how the hell do I get out of this?

My phone rings, using the nuclear alarm ringtone I favor. I don’t get many calls and the alert is loud enough to wake me from a deep sleep if needed. Mina jumps back, startled by the blaring noise. I smile, relief draining the tension from body.

“That’s my wife. Got to run.” I bolt like a yellow chicken from the kitchen, scurrying through the dining room and foyer as fast as I can. I press the talk button before the third atomic meltdown warning sounds. “Hey, honey. Boy, am I glad to hear from you.”

“Hi, sweetie. I’m using our satellite phone. If you need me, use this number.”

I race up the stairs to the safety of my quiet suite, glad the soup is on low, and I don’t need to go back down there for a while. “Why? Did you get a late season storm that took out the phone lines or cell towers?”

“No, something worse.”

Bunny fills me in on all she knows, which turns out to be quite a bit. Apparently, Asa told her more than the other employees because of her relation to me, and he trusts she’ll keep her mouth shut.

“They think the shooters are werewolf hunters?” I ask. “That sounds paranoid—like something out of a
Supernatural
episode.”

“I know. I thought the same thing at first, too. But they seemed pretty certain after the second wave of shootings earlier tonight.”

I pace back and forth in my room, unable to sit and relax like we normally do when talking. “I don’t like the sound of this, hon. Can you get away with the kids? Go someplace safer than our cabin?”

“Asa said he’d come here in an hour and take us to the apartments. He’s going to use the private route.”

That’s our way of mentioning the underground tunnels. I only know of them because of my inclusion in the seethe. For safety purposes Bunny was briefed but compelled to never speak of the passageways to anyone who didn’t already know of them. Wouldn’t be good to have her shoot me if I emerged from a closet in the middle of the night. “What about the children?”

“He’s going to ‘tell’ them we traveled by road when we arrive at the apartments.”

I nod, realizing there is no other way; a five and seven year old can’t be expected to keep such a secret. The crushing weight of helplessness pushes against me. “I don’t like this, Bunny. I’m not the most experienced fighter, but I’d feel better by your side than stuck here knowing my family is in danger.”

A heavy sigh reaches me, and I know my strong wife is feeling the added pressure. “Me too, dear.”

“These hunters are probably human, right?”

“That’s what they’re thinking. Why?”

“Arm yourself with everything we’ve got. If they’re human then they’ll be easy enough to kill with a bullet if they come after you.”

“One step ahead of you, Paul. According to Asa, employees have been directed to arm themselves and told to shoot anyone they don’t know coming within sight of the apartment building. They’re taking no chances on our safety, but still… none of
us
are the targets, you know?”

I continue my pacing, glad there’s a carpet to muffle my frantic steps. “Maybe we should fly back. I’ll talk to Drew and see what he says.”

“Why wouldn’t you talk to Vivain and Rafe direct?”

“They went to Buenos Aires to feel out what’s going on with the Ancients.”

Her voice pitches higher. “And they left you alone on the island?”

“Well, we’ve got the staff here and the rest of the crew from Alaska as well.”

“Uh, huh,” she sounds skeptical. “What staff?”

Heat rises to my cheeks. I’m glad she’s not here to sniff out my recent issue in the kitchen. “The caretaker’s family. Husband, wife, daughter, two aunts. That’s it.”

“That sounds like an awful lot of women.” Compared to our mostly male dominated state of Alaska, she’s right.

“One is married, one is their kid and the others are two unattractive spinsters. No need to worry.” The lie trips harmlessly off my lips.

“Why would I worry when I know where you sleep during the day?” She laughs to take off the sting of the unspoken threat she’d follow through in a heartbeat. “After all, you’re coming home. I’ll be waiting here when you do. Being semi-dead hasn’t changed our vows, and I know you’d never forget it.”

I swallow before forcing a little humor I’m not feeling into my response, “Yes, dear.”

A knock sounds at my door, causing my heart to freeze. Who the hell could that be? If it’s one of the twins come to try and seduce me, I’m screwed. I’ll have to keep the door locked. Damn! I don’t think I locked it when I came in. Before I rush to the door and fumble like a fool I should see who’s there. I hold the phone away from my mouth, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Drew,” comes the muted reply through the thick wood.

Fear loosens its grip, and I reply in a level voice, “Come on in.” I turn my attention back to Bunny. “Hon, I need to tell Drew everything you told me about the shootings. Can I call you in a few minutes?”

“Sure, lover boy.”

We end the call as Drew strides into my suite smelling like fruity bubble bath soap. “I just talked with Jon. Was that Bunny?”

“Yeah, she told me about the lines being out and used the emergency satellite phone we keep at the cabin.”

Drew crosses the room and lowers himself into one of the club chairs near the balcony doors. “Man, things sure got out of hand there quick.”

Pent up energy and fear pushes through my body, sending me pacing the floor, again. “Should we fly back? Should we call Vivian to ask what she wants us to do?”

Drew shakes his head and stares out into the charcoal darkness beyond the windows. “I spoke to Rafe a few hours ago, and they’re tied up with the inner politics of the event guests. I’ll inform him of what’s going on at our next check in. I followed protocol when I couldn’t get through to the inn a few hours ago, and called Cy.”

“He’s that guy in New York?” From what I was told, Cy is one of Vivian’s vampire offspring. She turned him several decades ago and set him loose relatively quickly. He had good control or some such shit.

“Yeah. He was on a business trip in Washington state. He should be at the resort in a few more hours. Cali, his werewolf wife, is manning their club while he’s gone.”

I think of my wife and children and wonder if one vampire will make a difference. “Is he bringing back up?”

“I don’t know. I’m assuming he’s following whatever he agreed to with Vivian ahead of time.” He rubs a hand over his face. For the first time, uncertainty in the situation cracks his calm façade.