Hot Summer Bites: A Castle of Dark Dreams Novella (A Penguin Special from Berkley Sensation) (3 page)

Eric still looked unconvinced. “So let’s say you give her what she wants and then don’t wipe her memory before she leaves the castle. What’s going to happen when her story hits the street?”

Taurin shrugged. “I’m going to be her source for all things sexual, so if I say she made everything up, who’s going to believe her? I’ll make sure she doesn’t leave with any proof, and I can point to the stories she’s done on vampires and werewolves to show that she’s into sensationalism.” The payoff would be huge. “Holgarth might even be able to sue her ass.” Uh-oh, shouldn’t have mentioned any body parts, because no matter how much he hated Kristin Hughes, she had a behind that lent itself to vibrant visuals.

Eric laughed. “Go for it. I’ll walk up with you and take a look at her.”

Once in the great hall, Taurin spotted Kristin talking with Holgarth. Not unexpected. Holgarth took his duty of greeting and irritating new guests seriously. Taurin hurried to reach her before the wizard drove her from the castle. He didn’t want that to happen.

Logically, that would be a
good
thing to happen. But logic had nothing to do with his feelings for Kristin. He wanted her to stay because . . . he wanted the personal joy of knowing he’d deprived her of the biggest story of her life. Namely, that the castle was run by a vampire, a former demon of sensual desire, and an immortal warrior.

And as a sidebar, he’d have the added pleasure of watching her rub shoulders with all kinds of nontraditional beings and not have a clue. The thought of how he intended to keep her distracted from the truth lurking right under her inquisitive nose triggered the slide of his fangs.

He frowned. At least he thought that’s what triggered it. Sure, her green top dipped low enough to expose the smooth skin of her throat. But come on now, this was the throat of the hated Kristin Hughes, the woman who single-handedly chased him and eleven of his night-feeder friends out of San Antonio. No matter how bright and shiny her wrapping paper looked, inside the package beat a cold, cold heart.

“Nice,” Eric murmured just before they joined Holgarth.

“Didn’t notice.” Taurin winced. Stupid lie. Not that he had anything against lying when the situation called for it, but denying the obvious would only make Eric suspicious. And the other vampire could make his life hell if he thought Taurin had any sexual interest in Kristin. Which he didn’t. At all.

Eric cast him a considering look before turning his smile on Kristin. “Welcome to the Castle of Dark Dreams, Kristin. I’m Eric McNair. You’ll meet my brothers, Brynn and Conall, during your fantasy. We all try to make sure everyone has a great experience while they’re here. Taurin was just telling me about you. Has Holgarth filled you in on how the fantasies work?”

“Sort of.” The crease between her spectacular blue eyes told Taurin that Holgarth had been busy spreading his own brand of goodness and light.

They needed a full-time damage-control team to follow the wizard around. As a meeter and greeter, Holgarth was really scary. Time to refocus her on who was important in this castle.
Him.
“I’ll help you pick out your costume, and then I’ll turn you over to someone else who’ll get you ready for your personal fantasy.”

She looked confused. “But I thought you’d stay with me.”

Taurin hoped his smile wasn’t as feral as it felt. “Start the fantasy without me. I’ll catch up.”

Holgarth harrumphed loudly to show his displeasure that someone had shifted attention away from his pompous self. He adjusted his tall conical hat, smoothed his fingers over his long pointed gray beard, and then dramatically swirled his gold-trimmed blue robe around himself. “I was telling Ms. Hughes that she’s unlikely to find anything worth writing about here. We’re all ordinary down-home folks trying to entertain the masses.”

Eric turned away as he tried to stifle his bark of laughter.

Holgarth frowned at the strangled sounds Eric was making. “Of course,
I’ve
managed to rise above the ordinary. So if you ever feel the need for a truly Pulitzer-worthy story, I’ll try to make time in my busy schedule to accommodate you.”

“Uh, thanks. I guess.” Kristin cast Taurin a frantic glance.

Before Holgarth could lay any lies on her, Taurin grabbed Kristin’s hand and dragged her off to the costume room. “Tell me what you’d like to be. All our fantasies take place in a medieval setting. We have virgin bride costumes, slave girl costumes, queen’s handmaiden costumes, sacrificial—”

“Vampire slayer costume.”

“What?”

“I did research on the Castle of Dark Dreams, and I know that Eric the Evil takes the form of a vampire. So I want to be a slayer.” She glanced around. “No offense, but all the women’s costumes here whimper, ‘I am doormat, see me grovel.’” She flipped through the costumes. “Sexist, sexist, sexist. The PC police need an anonymous call. Isn’t there a queen’s costume here somewhere?”

“We already have a queen.” It was hard talking through gritted teeth. Crap and double crap. He’d been pulling for the slave girl costume. “And medieval times
were
sexist. No Buffys hanging on corners. We don’t have any costumes—”

“I’ll wear this.” Kristin pulled a costume from the rack. “And I’ll need a wooden stake.” She looked thoughtful. “Guess you don’t have a cross or some holy water.”

No way was he putting a pointed object in her evil little hands. “Sorry, all out of religious symbols. Ditto for wooden stakes.” What the hell was
that
costume all about? “You’re going to wear a pair of baggy pants, an oversized shirt, and a long brown robe?” Not very sexy for someone who was looking for
sex
, hoping for
sex
, and dying to write a sensational story about
sex
. Yeah, so he was bitter.

“Mmm.” She headed for one of the dressing cubicles. “I’m disguised as a boy because women were forbidden to be vampire slayers in medieval times.”

Taurin tried to sound doubtful. Frustrated teeth-grinding wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Not your usual fantasy. Besides, Conall always destroys the vampire.”

“Not this time.” Kristin’s sensual mouth was set in a stubborn line. “Conall can get there in time to exclaim over the wonder of a mere
woman
taking out the undead.”

He watched her disappear behind the cubicle’s curtain before yanking his costume off the rack. Then with a muttered curse, he stepped into a cubicle.

Why the hell was he so mad? She could wear a sack for all he cared. He’d be naked enough for both of them. Stripping off his clothes, he pulled the cape around him. Then he paused.

No, he wouldn’t let her make him completely crazy. Eric was right. What if someone other than Kristin got a glance at what
wasn’t
under his cape? Picking up his jeans, he pulled out his cell phone and called Eric. When Eric answered, Taurin didn’t give him time to talk.

“Don’t ask questions. I need a swimsuit. Any swimsuit. And make it fast.” As he whispered into the phone, Taurin looked out to make sure Kristin was still busy changing.

“Decided to hedge your bets?” Eric sounded amused. “Why not just keep your underwear on?”

Taurin let the silence pile up behind Eric’s question. He could feel Eric processing the silence and then his expected hoot of laughter.

Taurin hoped Eric could feel the frost collecting on the other end of the line. “Hot handymen don’t need underwear.” He shut Eric off in mid-guffaw.

He listened to the sounds of Kristin sliding the curtain back from her cubicle. She paused outside his curtain.

“You ready yet?”

“No.” He could hear her rooting through some of the props. “Go on out. Holgarth will get you started on the fantasy. I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” There was an ominous clanking noise before she opened the door and left.

When Eric suddenly appeared in front of him, Taurin barely flinched. Preternatural speed was one of the perks of being a vampire. He’d never appreciated it more than he did now. “Let’s have it.” He held out his hand.

Eric gave him a small piece of metallic blue material sporting gold suns, moons, and stars. “Holgarth’s. The best I could do on short notice.”

Taurin stared at it. “
Holgarth
wears this?” He shut down all mental images. Nope, didn’t want to go there
ever
.

“Yep.” Eric was enjoying this way too much. “Hey, don’t complain. This whole plan was your idea.”

Taurin waited for Eric to leave, and then with a muttered curse, he pulled on the tiny blue stretchy abomination, all the while trying not to picture Holgarth leaping into the pool wearing only his blue wizard’s hat and matching swimsuit.

Baring his fangs, Taurin pulled his cape closed and left the room in search of Kristin. She’d pay for this. Oh, yeah, she’d
really
pay.

He smiled.

Chapter Two

“Madam, you will go directly to the dungeon.
You will not pass Go, and you definitely will
not
collect two hundred dollars.” Holgarth pursed his thin lips and pierced her with his beady-eyed glare. “And may I say that you have abysmal taste in costumes. Perhaps you intend to audition for
Monks Gone Wild
?”

Kristin narrowed her eyes to angry slits. “Whatever happened to ‘the customer is always right’?”

Holgarth arched one supercilious brow. “Customers are rarely right. They need guidance. I’m positive that our handsome prince will have zero incentive to save your little behind—although one can’t quite judge the scope of your derriere in that hideous outfit—when he has so many other beautifully garbed maidens from whom to choose.”

“Handsome prince. Whoopee.” Amazing. He’d reduced her to a sulky ten-year-old with his formidable sarcasm. You had to respect that kind of power.

The wizard’s harrumph expressed his supreme disapproval. “Most women are ecstatic at the chance to have a brave warrior engage an evil vampire in battle for their honor. And they welcome the handsome prince with the pitiful hope that he will bring them—dare I say it—ultimate bliss.”

“Gag me. That is so pathetic.” For just a teeny, tiny moment, the possibility of “ultimate bliss” with her hot handyman did skitter across her consciousness, but she whacked it with her mental broom before it could take her out of focus-on-the-job mode.

“I don’t need a man to save me, and no way is anyone carrying me anywhere.” She could picture the handsome prince grunting mightily as he tried to heave her into his arms. The visual made her smile. Okay, so she hadn’t lost her sense of humor completely.

Holgarth didn’t deign to argue as he eyed her weapon of choice. “My God, woman, what do you intend to do with
that
?”

“Slay the evil vampire myself.” Kristin frowned at the huge sword. It was so heavy she had to drag it along the floor. She was counting on the adrenaline rush of battle to help her heft the dumb hunk of metal. “I think your warrior guy would have it easier if the castle stocked things like crosses, garlic, holy water, and wooden stakes.”

“Where’s the passion in a clove of garlic?” Holgarth looked down his long nose at her. “Medieval times were hardly romantic, although most women enjoy suspending their disbelief for a short time. But if you fancy yourself a warrior princess, I think we have an old Xena costume somewhere.” His contemptuous sniff said that warrior princesses were so five minutes ago.

“The sword will have to go, though. We’ll be lucky if you don’t decapitate someone. Hopefully it won’t be you. I do
not
want to defend the castle against a messy lawsuit. Do you think your family would be open to a discreet out-of-court settlement?” He seemed to brighten at the possibility of her decapitation without legal consequences.

Kristin closed her eyes for a moment to gather her wits, which seemed to have fled to places unknown. What was her problem? And why was she dressed in this ridiculous brown robe while she dragged a really big phallic symbol behind her? Jeez, she was here to find sex, and she didn’t think she’d find much of it dressed like a frumpy paper sack. A scary truth hid just out of sight, but she didn’t have time right now for deep introspection.

“Look, it’s my fantasy, and if I want to wear this costume, I’ll damn well wear it. The sword stays with me, unless you want to wrestle me for it.” How did this place ever get any customers if they had to go through Mr. Snarky first? “And what if I don’t feel like going to the dungeon?”

Holgarth sighed dramatically. “The fantasies are scheduled at half-hour intervals. The fantasy lasts twenty minutes, and the actors have ten minutes to prepare for the next one. I had no idea that you would
fling
yourself into my carefully planned schedule, but Taurin insists you must experience a fantasy right now. So in order to accommodate you ‘right now,’
I
will choose your fantasy.”

Kristin frowned. As much as she’d love to argue with him about that, she had to admit he had a point. “Fine, so where’s the dungeon? Will Eric the Evil be there?”

Holgarth nodded as he pointed imperiously toward a darkened stairway on the other side of the great hall. “Go. The vampire awaits.”

“Oh, stuff the melodrama.” Not impressive as put-downs went, but she was too busy thinking about her confrontation with the vampire to worry about Holgarth. As she dragged her really big sword across the hall, people turned to stare. What? Hadn’t they ever seen a female vampire slayer dressed like Friar Tuck before?

She peered down the stone stairway that spiraled into blackness. A few puny wall sconces barely made a dent in the darkness. Kristin swallowed hard. Okay, this wasn’t real, so why the clammy hands and noisy gulps?

Time for some self-truth here. She was afraid. Oh, not of the dark, but of what waited in the darkness.
Sex.
It crouched at the bottom of the stairway, ready to pounce and tear away her protective layer of bravado. Sex was up close and personal, not something she could back away from and view objectively. She’d feel a lot braver facing werewolves in Minnesota.

Sure, she wanted a kinky sex story because it would sell like crazy, and because she really liked the
concept
of kinky sex. And yeah, she’d covered a few sex stories, but she’d always had someone else on the inside doing the grunt work. Had she phrased that wrong? Anyway, all she’d had to do was write the article. This was different. She didn’t have a buffer zone this time.

So? The shocking truth washed over her and nearly took her under. She was a product of her repressed background. When in doubt, blame your parents.

She’d made love before, but she’d never been comfortable with it, had never been able to lose herself in the event. It was always like she was standing off to the side critiquing herself and her partner—she’d be doing the penguin waddle if she didn’t hit the gym soon; he was making really funny noises; and had she paid her cable bill? All in all, making love had been just okay. If she couldn’t turn off all her inner dialogue, she doubted she’d ever experience the ultimate
wow!
moment.

But hope sprang eternal and all that crap. She still held out hope for the man who could make her forget her cable bill while giving her an orgasm that would reduce her to tears of gratitude.

It wouldn’t happen this week. She had to stay focused on her job. If the park was all about sex, and if she took her investigation to its logical conclusion, she wouldn’t be making love. She’d be having sex with a stranger, one of women’s top ten fantasies, according to research. It tempted at the same time it scared the hell out of her.

This was the start of a whole week of searching for sex around every corner while she wondered with heart-pounding uncertainty what she’d do if she found it.

Okay, now that she understood where she was coming from, she could concentrate on where she was going. Right now it was down these stairs.

Kristin crept downward, step by agonizing step, and she’d swear the
kaboom
,
kaboom
of her heartbeat echoed off the stone walls like a demented kettledrum. The
clank, clank
of her sword as it hit each step added to the general din. She sure wasn’t doing a good job of creeping up on Eric the Evil. Even as she crept, he was probably polishing his fangs.

Kristin took a deep breath. More oxygen would calm her heart into a false sense of security. She
could
walk to the bottom of this staircase. She
could
meet and defeat Eric the Evil. She
could
find out if he had sex on his mind. She could . . . She
could
run like hell back up the steps and face the patronizing sneer of the castle’s wicked wizard.

Never. Besides, it was too late to run. She’d reached the bottom of the steps. She paused to take stock. There were several doors revealed by the one wall sconce’s yellow glow. She supposed the dungeon’s door was the big ugly one with a few tastefully arranged blood splatters. Ugh.

Personally, she had questions about the other doors. Storerooms? Labs where mad scientists carried out unspeakable experiments on armadillos? Kristin couldn’t help it. She was drawn to the outrageous.

Dragging her attention back to the dungeon door, she sighed. No way could she put this off any longer. Kristen opened the door and stepped into the dungeon’s dim interior.

He moved from the shadows, just a large dark shape until he stepped into the dim circle of light cast by one of the dungeon’s four flickering candles. He used one hand to hold closed the folds of his long black cape while with his other he held a flap of the cape over most of his face.

Someone needed to give this guy a vampire fashion makeover. Her mole inside the San Antonio group had told her vampire wannabes dressed pretty much like everyone else. She would’ve checked it out herself, but the pics he’d sent her showed nothing but empty rooms. She’d meant to ask him about the pics, but he disappeared right after sending them. Weird.

Eric the Evil needed to trade in his cape for jeans and a T-shirt. She opened her mouth to tell him that, but swallowed hard instead.

Okay, so he had the whole dark, dank dungeon thing going on, and it was sort of creeping her out. Stone floor, stone walls, a variety of torture instruments, and a big black-caped guy standing in the middle of it all were enough to put a chill in the air. She shivered. Kudos to whoever was in charge of sets here.

“And what did Holgarth send me tonight?” His soft laughter sounded more sinister than amused. “I assume you’re a choice morsel, but it’s hard to tell with all the brown wrapping paper. Come to me so I can strip away all those layers and sample your life’s essence.”

“Choice morsel? You’ve gotta be kidding.” She clenched both hands around the sword as she prepared to attempt to lift it, oh say, maybe five inches off the floor. “And let’s do away with euphemisms. You want to suck my blood, vampire.” Wait, he didn’t sound like Eric, but his voice
was
familiar, even muffled by the cape.

His laughter was more sincere this time. “Lots of attitude. I like it. Any ideas about how you’ll reach my neck with that sword? I won’t have any trouble reaching yours.” He stepped closer.

“Taurin?” She knew it was his voice, and yet it wasn’t. His voice seemed deeper, with a disturbing note of compulsion in it. Compulsion? Okay, time for some brain defogging.

“Not at this moment in this place.” He moved even closer, invading her space, blocking out the light, and filling her total field of vision with intimidating male.

She resisted the urge to back up and tried to immerse herself in the fantasy. “Come any closer, and I’ll . . . cut you off at the ankles.” Kristin sensed his smile behind his improvised mask.

“Can’t lift that sword any higher, huh?”

“Stupid sword.”

“I guess I could bend down, but I have a better idea.” Taking that last step, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Let’s explore coexistence strategies.”

Kristin noticed something right away. He had to let go of his cape in order to hold her. The cape gaped open. There was lots of bare vampire pressed against her.

She mentally stroked her chin. Ah, so the rumors of sex in the citadel were true. “Sex and the Citadel,” a great title for her article.

Time for her to put her investigative skills to use. She wiggled her body against his to get a feel for the situation. Mmm, hard muscle beneath smooth skin. Too bad she couldn’t ditch her dumb costume. It always paid to get close to your subject, the closer the better.

His body heat warmed her. Everywhere. Sweat pooled between her breasts and trickled a sensual path south where the action was sizzling. Her Center for Sexual Excitement had realized the potential for imminent erotic diversion and kicked into high gear. All that tactile stimulation along with the heavy feeling building low in her belly made her drop her useless sword so she could reach for her robe.

As he released her, she glanced at his face. And froze.

Whoever did the makeup here was a pro. Sure the dungeon was dark, but she was close enough to spot a phony vampire face. Taurin’s face looked as real as her own. Well, maybe not quite as
human
as her own. He was vampire. His eyes were larger and sort of elongated. And they were the blackest eyes she’d ever seen. But it was his mouth that riveted her. His lips were fuller, more sensual,
tempting
.

He smiled, a wicked lifting of his lips that exposed gleaming fangs. Kristin shuddered. At least she knew why his mouth looked so sexy. He was covering up some serious dental hardware.

She was conflicted. On one hand, even in vampire form he was so hot she expected the air around him to ignite. On the other hand, those were some heavy-duty canines. And she’d been right, they were white and shiny—evidence that he did a lot of polishing.

“Come to me, Kristin.” His low, husky murmur promised she wouldn’t be sorry.

Kristin took a deep breath. Reality-check time. This was just a fantasy. His fangs were fake. Taurin wasn’t a vampire; he was just a sexy guy. And she’d always known she’d have to make sacrifices for her job.

She slipped out of her robe and flung it away from her.

In the name of investigative reporting, she’d offer herself up on the altar of doing-whatever-it-takes. She’d force herself to run her hands over that incredible chest, touch his male nipples with her tongue, and put her mouth wherever her lips felt the need to wander.

She unbuttoned her shirt and let it slide to the floor.

No matter how grueling the investigation process was, she’d carry on until she had every last sordid detail. It would be tough work exploring all those out-of-the-way spots on his muscular body. But hey, her readers would want to know the texture and the exact degree of firmness of his magnificent butt cheeks.

She reached for her pants’ button.

No one could say she didn’t throw herself into her work. Oh, the sacrifices she made for the sake of her art. She paused with her fingers still on the button. Oh, the lies she told. Who was she trying to kid? What she wanted to do with Taurin would never appear in print.