Phanta City 1
Beautiful Béla
Count Vladimir Dracul never suspected that the human he found hiding in his stables will change his life and the way he sees the
world. But once he finds Béla, Vlad can’t give him up. Fighting prejudices against humans, a vampire Count wanting his blood donor
back, and a threat from an old enemy seem like small battles compared to the one he has to fight to win Béla’s heart.
Béla was terrified of the vampire that found him and decided to keep him. His experience with vampires has never been good so he
has no reason to trust Vlad, even if he wanted to. But when his former owner comes looking for him, Béla has to find the courage to
save the one man that has come to mean more to him than his freedom.
With the help of a few crazy friends, a werewolf mob boss, and two insane brothers, Vlad and Béla just might have a chance at
happiness…if the Ministry of Paranormal Affairs doesn’t get to them first.
Genre:
Alternative (M/M or F/F), Futuristic, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Length:
43,297 words
BEAUTIFUL BÉLA
Phanta City 1
Stormy Glenn and Lynn Hagen
EVERLASTING CLASSIC
MANLOVE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove
BEAUTIFUL BÉLA
Copyright © 2014 by Stormy Glenn and Lynn Hagen
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-432-6
First E-book Publication: February 2014
Cover design by D.L. Benson
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About the Authors
BEAUTIFUL BÉLA
Phanta City 1
STORMY GLENN AND LYNN HAGEN
Copyright © 2014
Chapter 1
Count Vladimir Dracul tilted his head a minute inch as the scent of leather and hay filled his
lungs. He scanned the interior of his stables for the source of the soft thudding he could hear. The
rapid beat called to him, enticing him to hunt it down like prey to a predator.
But the beat was unfamiliar, no scent to go with it to identify the cause. Vlad couldn’t even hone
in on a thought pattern. It was as if that which he hunted was just out of his reach, teasing him…
taunting him.
“Boris, all is well in the stables?” Vlad’s fingers smoothed over the long neck of his favorite
stallion as he turned to look at his stable master. “My horses are all in good working form? No illness
or anything?”
“Oh yes, my lord.” Boris’s ruddy cheeks wobbled as he spoke and nodded at the same time.
“Your horses are in the best of shape, sire, couldn’t be better.”
“Hmm.” Vlad glanced toward the back of the stables once more, positive that was the direction
the heartbeat came from. He stepped away from his horse, wondering why the beast wasn’t concerned
over the slight disturbance Vlad could feel in the air. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on
end.
He started toward the rear of the stable, his steps slow and measured, his head slanted to the side
to catch the slightest sound of movement. Strangely enough, there was none, just the soft but
persistent beat of someone’s heart.
When Vlad neared the back wall, he pinpointed exactly where the heartbeat was located. He
shook his head and pursed his lips. In the far back corner was a stack of hay bales. There was nothing
unusual in that. Vlad was standing in a stable, after all.
What was starting to alarm Vlad—no easy feat considering he was the prince of his coven—was
the fact that one of the hay bales was moving. Vlad stared at it in bewilderment, watching little bits of
straw dislodge and float to the ground.
When curiosity—and the cold chill starting to creep up his back—became too much, Vlad
reached over and pushed the hay bale, using all of his inhuman strength to send it flying across the
barn. What he found behind the hay bale made Vlad’s mind race.
A creature, covered in mud and grime and torn clothing…and little bits of hay, scurried toward
the corner as he hissed at Vlad like a feral cat. Vlad stood to his full height of six foot one, not huge
but enough to intimidate the little creature cowering in front of him.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my stables?” Vlad asked, baring his fangs.
Vlad wasn’t positive what he was dealing with until the little thing tried to race past him and the
panicked emerald-green eyes told the story. Vlad swung his arm out and caught the guy around the
waist to prevent his escape.
He immediately knew that might not have been his best choice when the smelly creature went
insane and started biting and scratching every bit of skin he could reach. Vlad wrapped both arms
around the little spitfire in a protective hug, trying not to hurt the creature but keep himself from
being hurt as well.
“Restrain yourself!” Vlad snapped as he shook the man in his arms. Vlad’s eyebrows shot up
when the guy went as limp as a dishrag.
He didn’t trust the quick compliance.
Vlad’s eyes darted around the stable until they landed on a saddle blanket hanging over the edge
of one of the stable doors. He carried his capture to the hay that had scattered over the floor when he
had flung it out of the way. Vlad gently laid the creature down then went to grab the blanket.
Vlad heard the faintest rustle of straw and spun before he took a step. Vlad’s surprise gave the
creature enough time to dart across the room. He squatted down and pressed himself back against the
wall as if trying to make himself the smallest possible target.
Vlad moved as well, putting himself between the scared little thing and the door. Despite his
concern for the fear he could see in the man’s deep-green eyes, Vlad knew letting him leave was the
last thing he should do. Taking a slow step backward until he could reach over and grab the horse
blanket, Vlad tossed the scratchy material at the intruder.
“You appear cold.” Hell, the creature looked downright frozen. The man’s skin held a pale-blue
tint that worried Vlad. While Vlad could hear the man’s heart beating at a rapid pace, his chest was
rising and falling so quickly he looked ready to pass out.
And what would Vlad do with an unconscious human?
At least, he smelled human.
Sort of.
The sad little thing smelled like a whole lot of other stuff, too, stuff that reeked. Vlad really
didn’t want to get too close. Although, as he glanced down at himself, he realized that his brief
encounter had gotten dirt and grime smeared on his crisp, clean clothes. Vlad smelled like a dung
heap, which meant the human was a hundred times worse.
Vlad motioned with his hand for the human to come toward him. “Follow me. We both could use
a bath, and I will find some food for you.”
Wide panicked eyes just stared at him.
Vlad gestured again.
The terror already swimming in the man’s eyes grew the moment Vlad moved forward. The
creature’s eyes darted wildly around the small space, and Vlad knew the human was looking for an
escape route. And Vlad knew the moment the little thing realized he had to move around Vlad to gain
his freedom.
For a fraction of a second, the man’s shoulders slumped as if he was resigning himself for the
fight to come, but then he seemed to bolster himself. Vlad cocked an eyebrow when thinly developed
muscles tensed.
Did the little human actually think he could beat a vampire?
Did he have a death wish?
Did he have any idea who he faced off against? Despite the small size of his coven, Count
Vladimir Dracul was one of the most feared leaders in all of Phanta City. He had earned that
reputation fairly, refusing to bow to anyone and crushing anyone that wronged him.
The frightened man had to be insane to go up against Vlad.
The small figure that darted toward him said he was. Vlad reached out and grabbed the human as
he tried to shoot past him. He put the man into another tight hold when the human started kicking and
scratching again. Vlad wrapped one arm tightly around the man’s upper body.
“Stop this at once!” Vlad snapped as he wrapped the other arm around the human’s head when
the man tried to bite him. It was fully understandable that the human was scared, terrified even, but
Vlad refused to be someone’s chew toy.
Well, at least not if they weren’t dating.
The human bucked and hissed, his wild eyes darting around. Tears streamed down his pale
cheeks while his entire body began to shake. All of those actions told Vlad the human was scared out
of his mind.
What scared Vlad was the silence.
The man didn’t make a single sound. The human bucked and snapped his teeth like he was trying
to bite, he even made a motion with his mouth like he was hissing, but he was totally silent.
When the human no longer struggled, his body becoming limp, Vlad carefully lowered him to
the ground and then knelt down behind him. Vlad held the human between his thighs, pulling him back
against his chest. Normally, Vlad was pretty fastidious about his clothing, preferring to stay clean and
pressed.
In that moment, he couldn’t have cared less.
“It is okay.” Vlad tried to speak in a much calmer, more soothing, and less threatening voice. He
wasn’t sure he was capable of such kindness, but he’d give it a shot. “You are safe, little one. No harm
will come to you.”
He hoped.
Vlad couldn’t be that positive. Humans were rare, even more so inside of a vampire compound.
Granted, Vlad owned his allotted number of human blood donors, but an unmarked, wild human loose
in a vampire coven was trouble.
Which was why Vlad teleported them directly to his bathroom instead of carrying the man inside
the house and past his coven members. He tried not to disseminate unless absolutely necessary. It took
too much energy.
This time it was necessary.
As Vlad kept the man close to his chest, he reached down and turned the water on in the bathtub,
testing it until it warmed to the temperature he wanted. The horrid smell coming off of the human was
making Vlad queasy. If he was going to help this man, Vlad needed to clean him first.
And Vlad wasn’t allowing anyone else to clean the human.
Vlad held his hand under the tap until the water warmed sufficiently then turned his attention to
the human in his arms. The first thing Vlad needed to do was get rid of the ragged, torn clothing.
And then he needed to burn them.
The smelly creature in his arms wasn’t unconscious, but he was no longer trying to fight Vlad.
He merely watched with reproachful fear-filled eyes as Vlad carefully pulled the strips of cloth away
and tossed them into the corner.
Even dirty and grimy and covered in god only knew what, the man was breathtaking. Vlad
couldn’t deny his reaction to the man’s naked body. Maybe it was simply holding a naked man in his
arms. Lord knew it had been a while since Vlad had relieved the ache in his groin.
Being the man he was, Vlad had to be cautious about who he let into his bed. Not only was there
a constant threat of someone turning on him, but Vlad didn’t want to show favoritism to anyone. That
could cause him more problems than it was worth.
And maybe his arousal was due to the fact that under the dirt and grime and ratty matted hair,
Vlad could see a gorgeous man staring back at him with the deepest green eyes he had ever witnessed,
and he had witnessed a lot in his seven hundred years.
“What’s your name, little one?” Vlad asked.
The human’s muscles tightened, but he remained mute.
As he walked behind the creature to inspect him, Vlad’s jaw tightened when he saw a mixture of
old and new whip marks on the human’s back and upper thighs. There was no doubt that this human
had been abused.
There was one line in particular that caught Vlad’s attention. The recent, raised mark started at
the nape of the human’s neck and ran the length of his entire backside. It was jagged, as if someone
had used a knife instead of the cord of a whip.
What on earth?
Clearing his throat, Vlad gently picked the human up and set him in the bathtub.
Vlad used the detachable showerhead to wet the human’s hair. The strands were tangled so badly
that there was no other option than to cut them off. There was no way a comb was going to make it
through that jungle. The teeth would break before Vlad could straighten the mess out.
“Do you know how dangerous it is to wander into a vampire compound?” Upending the bottle of
sweet-smelling shampoo, Vlad began the arduous task of scrubbing the thick liquid through the
tangled mane.
Twice his fingers became caught, forcing Vlad to gently yank them free. Yet the human didn’t
move or make a sound. He sat in the tub, his arms crossed over his legs, staring straight ahead.
Vlad could see hardness in the human’s eyes, but he also saw fear rounding them out. The
human’s heart still raced as it had in the stable, but Vlad noticed how the human’s fingers gripped his
own legs so tightly that the knuckles were white.
“Where did you come from?” Vlad knew the human wasn’t going to answer him. If the man
hadn’t spoken so far, then a simple question wasn’t going to get him to open his mouth. Still, he had to
try, even if it was just to break up the heavy silence.
As Vlad rinsed the human’s hair, something inside of him stirred. A compulsion to keep this man
for himself started to blossom inside of him, increasing with every passing second.
That had never happened before.
Humans were cattle, used for blood and sometimes sex. They were not equals nor would they
ever be. Paranormal species ruled the planet, and many humans had gone into hiding. Those that
hadn’t were either auctioned off—something that shouldn’t happen, but that everyone turned a blind
eye to—and then they were given a mark to show who they belonged to.
Humans who didn’t belong to anyone carried a card, stating that they were registered. But that
also made them free game to anyone who wanted to own them.
But Vlad didn’t want to own this creature. He wanted something deeper. He just wasn’t sure what
that was. The thought made his brows furrow as he rinsed the shampoo away.
The human grunted.
Vlad paused. He wasn’t sure what made the man suddenly make a sound. Did the warm water
please the human? Using the shower wand, Vlad let the tempered water slid down the human’s back.
The human grunted again.
The side of Vlad’s mouth quirked.
“Stand so that I can wash your body.” Vlad rose to his feet, grabbing the cloth in one hand, the
fragrant body soap in the other.
The human didn’t move.
“If you make me repeat myself, I’ll duck you under the water and scrub you with a Brillo Pad.”
Vlad had no intention of doing that, but he wasn’t going to stand for disobedience. True, the human
was wild, but there was intelligence shining in the man’s green eyes. The human fully understood
what Vlad was saying to him.
Slowly, the human stood, cupping his private area as Vlad began to wash the filth away. The
water was clouded, testament to the last time this little thing had a bath. Using the wand, Vlad rinsed
every inch of the man’s body, and then washed him down again.
It couldn’t hurt.
Finally, Vlad replaced the wand in its cradle and grabbed a fluffy, burgundy towel from the
cabinet. “Come, step out of the tub.”
The human did as Vlad commanded. Once the towel was secure, Vlad pulled the human into his
arms and carried him into the bedroom. The man was stiff in Vlad’s arm, as if being close to another
living soul was a bad thing.
Vlad tilted his head to the side, his brows pulled together as he wondered what this human’s
story was. How had he ended up in the stables? Where had he come from? Why was he so feral?
He tried to push into the human’s mind, but the man’s thoughts were chaotic at best. Nothing
made sense. Everything was jumbled. Vlad had never before encountered a mind so scattered, or one
he couldn’t pick thoughts out of like pebble off the ground. It was like seeing a thousand shards of
glass on the floor and not knowing which piece connected to another.
“We need to take care of this tangled mess.” Vlad grabbed a pair of shears from his dresser
drawer. When he turned, the human was crouched on the bed, towel gone, his upper lip turned up into
a silent snarl. The green in the man’s eyes had grown darker, his face a mask of fury.
“Get down,” Vlad commanded. “I am not going to hurt you with these. I simply wish to cut that
thicket of hair from your head.”
The human pressed into the wall as he scooted back, his eyes swinging from one end of the room
to the other. The human’s dark chestnut hair was long, covering part of his face, making him appear
feral. He leapt from the bed, trying to run past Vlad.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Vlad dropped the shears and grabbed the human around the waist, hauling
him off of his feet. He took the struggling man to a Coral Victorian chair and dropped him on the red
velvet cushion.
“Now you will sit still while I attend to this mess.” Vlad fingered some strands before letting
them go. “If you attempt to flee again, I’ll simply tie you down.”
This made the human stop squirming. He glared at Vlad, and he swore the man looked annoyed.
“Don’t move.” Vlad crossed the room and grabbed the shears again. When he turned, the human
was still in the chair, but was crouching in it. He looked like he would spring into action at any
second. “Remember my warning.”
The human’s eyes dropped to the floor. Vlad took that as a sign of submission, so he moved to
the chair and began to cut away the snarled pieces. The human didn’t try to get away again, nor did he
make a sound, but his rigid shoulders told Vlad that he wasn’t pleased with getting his hair cut.
Vlad wasn’t a stylist, but he managed to give the human a decent haircut. It was now short, close
to the scalp, allowing Vlad to see the man’s entire face.
His breath caught in his lungs.
If Vlad thought the man handsome before, that was nothing compared to how gorgeous he was
now that he was clean and the mess on his head gone. Vlad’s heart beat a little faster, his throat dried
out, and his cock began to thicken as he stared at the little human squatting in the chair.
He was breathtakingly beautiful.
The human scurried from the chair and bolted under the bed when a knock sounded on the door
to Vlad’s suite. For a moment, all Vlad could do was stare at where the human had run off to. His saw
green eyes peeking up at him from under the bed skirt before they disappeared into the shadows.
Vlad quickly cleaned up the discarded hair on the floor and dumped it into his wastebasket
before he went to see who was knocking at his door, all the while wondering how he was going to get
the man out from under the bed…and maybe into it.
Chapter 2
Boy silently crawled across the cold hardwood floor to the edge of the bed, seeing a pair of legs
walk past the pleated dust ruffle. He wasn’t sure what the vampire’s angle was, but he didn’t trust the
guy.
No one was nice without wanting something in return.
And he had long ago stopped trusting anyone.
As Boy waited to see who was at the door, he wondered how in the hell he was going to get away
from two vampires. One was bad enough. Two would be nearly impossible.
Although, it could be done.
Boy’s presence in the vampire’s bedroom was proof of that. He almost smiled as he thought
about the look that would be on Slovak Upír’s face when he found Boy’s empty cell.
As much as he refused to go back to the hell he had been in, he would have paid good money to
see what happened when his disappearance was discovered. Assuming he had any money, which he
didn’t. He didn’t even have clothes at this point. Mr. High and Mighty had tossed them away.
Boy frowned as his eyes landed on a small wooden box near the head of the bed. It was ornately
carved as if what was inside was precious to its owner. More curious than he should be, Boy scooted
across the highly polished hardwood floor to the box. He had just enough room to slide the catch free
and flip the lid open.
The first thing that Boy noticed was the strong earthy fragrance that filled his nostrils. It was so
thick that Boy almost believed he was covered in dirt. When he stuck his hand inside the box and
came back with a handful of dark rich soil, Boy’s confusion hit an all-time high. Why would a
vampire have a chest of dirt under his bed?
A high pitched voice snapped Boy’s attention to the opening door. He quickly dropped the dirt
back into the chest and closed the lid before scooting further under the bed when the voice came closer
and a set of…purple polka-dotted socks? Was the man really wearing purple polka-dotted socks?
When the oddly colored socked feet stopped at the edge of the bed then turned away, Boy pulled
back the pristine white dust ruffle and peeked up. Damn, the purple polka-dotted socks matched the
royal-purple ruffled shirt the guy was wearing.
Someone needed a fashion makeover.
When the man started talking faster than Boy could follow, Boy slid back under the bed,
dropping the dust ruffle. He barely breathed, knowing from years of experience that vampires had
excellent hearing. He was one heavy breath away from being discovered. “So, I need your signature on
these two contracts,” the high-pitched voice said. “This first one is for…”
Boy covered his ears.
He didn’t know how long he lay there like that, but his eyes started to flicker and drift closed. It
felt like he had been running longer than he hadn’t been running. Only by continuing to move could he
stay ahead of Upír. Boy didn’t understand why the man was so obsessed with him. His blood couldn’t
be that good.
And yet, Upír had fixated on him, becoming almost fanatical about keeping Boy within arm’s
reach—and feeding reach. Boy feared if Upír caught him, he wouldn’t have much blood left to feed
the bloodthirsty vampire. The coven leader had practically drained him dry already.
Every memory Boy had revolved around being Upír’s personal blood donor. Even though he had
no recollection of his life before belonging to the vampire leader, he knew he’d had one. He had heard
the other donors talking about Upír buying him so cheaply from his uncle after his parents died trying
to escape being donors. Boy didn’t know if it was true or not, and he didn’t really care.
His entire life had been spent under the heavy hand of Slovak Upír, a monster of epic
proportions. If he died for attempting to escape—as every human donor in Upír’s coven was
threatened with—then Boy welcomed it. He welcomed anything that kept him out of Upír’s sadistic
reach.
Even the vampire that had found him in the stables.
Boy pressed his hand to his mouth to keep from making any noise when a large yawn grabbed a
hold of him, then dropped his hand to the floor beside his head. Moving took effort. Boy just wanted
to lay his head down somewhere and sleep for a week.
He was— Boy let out a low squeak and then slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise
when the dust ruffle was flipped back and a face appeared. His heart painfully tried to jump out of his
chest.
“You may come out now. Igorian has left.”
Boy waited until the vampire disappeared from sight then scooted to the edge, scanning the room
for the other man. Once he felt sure that it was just the two of them, Boy slid out from underneath the
bed.
He didn’t bother getting to his feet, just scooted himself back along the highly polished wooden
floor until he hit a wall. He wanted as much distance between him and the bloodsucker as possible.
“Are you hungry?” the man asked as he slid a clean, freshly pressed white dress shirt on over his
broad shoulders. Boy could see the vampire’s crimson-red eyes watching him. Hell, he could
practically feel the prickle of his intense gaze on his skin. “I’ve ordered some food brought to my
suite. I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of human food on hand. I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I ordered
my assistant to bring an array of dishes.”
Maybe the vampire had sucked up some tainted blood or something because only an idiot would
have real food brought to his quarters when he only drank blood. Boy figured he had mere moments to
find an escape before the fashion-impaired vampire came back with food and questions.
Where things would lead after the inquisition, Boy didn’t even want to contemplate.
From his vantage point on the floor, Boy could spot the door to the bathroom and one leading out
into what seemed like a living room from the fancy couches he could see through the opening. There
was also a set of double doors leading outside.
That left the windows, one on each side of the bed, and a row of floor-to-ceiling windows along
one wall. Why a vampire had floor-to-ceiling windows in the first place was confusing as all hell.
Sunlight was deadly to bloodsuckers. The bright ball turned them into instant crispy critters.
Boy glanced at the double doors. Unless he planned to jump out a window, the double doors
might be his only escape. Boy had no idea how high up he was, so the windows weren’t an option. The
balcony wasn’t much better, but at least he wouldn’t be stuck in a room with Mr. I vant to suck your
blood.
“We are three stories up, in case you are wondering.”
Boy turned his gaze away from the double doors to the vampire casually buttoning the cuffs of
his shirt with a set of diamond cufflinks. His voice sounded so smooth, so even and unaffected that he
could have been having afternoon tea.
“The drop might not kill you, but it certainly would injure you.”
Damn.
Boy’s shoulders slumped. He leaned his head back against the white plaster wall and pulled his
legs up, resting his arms on his knees. He was so damn tired he was past the point of caring that all of
his bits and pieces were on display. It seemed like every time he turned around, his day either got
better or got worse.
There was no middle ground.
First he escaped the hell he had been held in for longer than he could remember. Upside. Then he
found himself right back in the clutches of another vampire. Downside. The bath was an upside. Sort
of. The haircut, not so much. Boy liked the long hair, ratty as it was.
It helped him hide his hatred.
Boy realized he had faded off in thought when the vampire nudged his foot. Fear hammered
through Boy’s chest as he quickly pulled his legs up to his chest, trying to become the smallest target
possible.
“Here.”
He reared back when the tall vampire squatted down in front of him. Boy tensed, waiting for the
first hit he knew was coming. He had seen the man’s hand coming at him. It took Boy a moment to
realize the vampire wasn’t trying to hit him, merely holding a stack of clothes out to him.
Slowly, carefully, his eyes pinned on the vampire the entire time, Boy reached out and took the
clothing.
“They might be a bit large on you, but at least they will cover you sufficiently.”
Boy was all for being covered, though he hated clothes. Every time he had been whipped, the
person made him dress. It was an added punishment, knowing the fabric would stick to his wounds,
dry to them, then rip skin when they were taken off. Boy inwardly cringed at the idea of putting these
things on, but it was better than being naked in front of this vampire.
Still, he waited until the bloodsucker stood and backed away before putting on the fancy silk
lounging outfit he had been given. He pulled the shirt on first, and then the pants, frowning down at
the excess material that bunched around his ankles.
He looked ridiculous.
As Boy folded the sleeves back so he could see his hands, he noticed how soft the midnight-black
material was. He couldn’t remember ever feeling material this soft. It flowed over his skin like a
caress of warm water.
And it covered almost every inch of Boy’s body. As nice as the clothes felt, Boy could feel the
memories returning of his imprisonment and wanted to yank every piece of fabric from his skin.
Boy pressed his lips together, something welling up inside of him that he didn’t want to let free,
or even try to identify. He fisted his hands, curling his fingers into the excess material. It was going to
be so hard to give up this show of kindness when he had to leave.
“Let me help you.”
Boy almost jumped and ran across the room when the vampire stepped over and knelt in front of
him, lifting one of Boy’s feet to roll up the long pant leg. He stared down at the vampire’s dark-brown
hair, knowing this was his chance to escape, to run. All he needed to do was kick the vampire while
the guy was on his knees, knock him out or at least down.
It was the perfect opportunity.
Boy just stood there.
“There,” the man said as he tilted his head up and looked at Boy. “That’s better. No worry that
you will trip.”
Boy gave just the slightest nod of his head in response.
“My name is Count Vladimir Dracul. You have my permission to address me as Vlad.”
Boy felt the blood drain from his face at mention of the vampire’s name. He had heard it before.
Everyone had. Count Dracul was one of the most powerful vampire leaders in Phanta City. The man
was feared by his enemies. Legends of his deeds told how he kept humans in line, of how fiercely he
protected his coven, obliterating anyone that dared to offend him. Even other vampires feared him.
And the feared prince was kneeling on the floor in front of him.
With the knowledge that Boy had chosen the worst possible place to hide out, he took off for the
double doors leading outside. He didn’t care how high up they were. He didn’t even care if he broke
every bone in his body as he threw himself over the ledge. He’d accept his fate if it meant not being
tortured by the scariest vampire ever to live.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
Boy hissed and struggled with every bit of strength he had in him when Vlad wrapped him up in
his arms, preventing his escape.
“Hush, little one,” Vlad whispered against Boy’s head. “You’re safe here.”
A snarl worked its way up from Boy’s chest and burst from his lips. He fought tooth and nail to
get free. Safe and vampire did not belong in the same sentence. They didn’t even belong in the same
dictionary.
Boy had learned what vampires were capable of very early in life, and he refused to be someone
else’s blood bag. Vlad seemed nice now, but Boy knew the beatings would begin as soon as he pissed
the guy off.
And Boy had an aptitude for pissing people off.
Vlad hissed and clamped both arms around Boy. It was like having to steel bands wrapped
around him. He couldn’t move, but that didn’t stop him from stomping his foot into Vlad’s, or rearing
his head back to slam it into the guy’s face. But Vlad was quick, dodging Boy’s head as he pulled him
from his feet and tossed him onto the bed.
“If you keep acting like an animal, I will tie you down.” Vlad’s eyes were full of pity, something
Boy didn’t need. The only thing he wanted was his freedom. How had he gone from one prison to
another? Only this jailer was the notorious Vladimir Dracul.
“Not dog!” Boy screamed as he tried to get back up. “Not dog!”
Vlad held him down, using the weight of his body to blanket Boy. He fought hard, but there
wasn’t any way he could get the vampire off of him. Abject fear flooded Boy, hot tears trickling down
his cheeks as he thought of the torture that was sure to come.
Why the hell couldn’t he be left alone? Why were vampires always capturing him? What he
wouldn’t give for one day of freedom without worrying that someone was going to use and abuse him.
Vlad began to smooth a hand over Boy’s hair, making hushing sounds in his throat. This only
made Boy cry harder.
“I do not know who left those marks on your body, little one. But be assured that I will not lift a
hand to you in anger. You are safe here.” Vlad still hadn’t moved. He kept his weight pressed into
Boy, but his hands were gentle as he moved them over Boy’s head and shoulders.
“Not dog,” Boy repeated once more. But this time instead of shouting it in rage, he was pleading
with the vampire. He didn’t want to be kicked around or leashed again. Hell, he’d seen the dogs
around Upír’s compound being treated better than Boy had been.
Vlad leaned back, his red eyes filled with a softness that shouldn’t have been there. Not if the
rumors of this man were true. “No, you are not a dog, little one, and you will not be treated as such.”
Pretty words, but Boy found it hard to believe any of them. He’d been lied to for so long that the
truth was a myth to him. Although he craved to be treated with kindness, to have a loving hand stroke
him instead of a harsh hand beating him, Boy flat-out didn’t trust Vlad.
A knock sounded on the door, making Boy squirm to get free. His heart was slamming into his
ribs, his body growing cold with fear. The other vampire must be back with food. Even though Boy
was starving, he didn’t want to be cornered by two vampires.
Vlad released Boy, allowing him to scurry under the bed. Boy watched from under the dust ruffle
as the vampire opened the door.
“Okay, I’m not sure why you want this junk.” The man in the purple polka-dotted socks was
back. “But I hit a few fast-food places and bought a little of everything.”
The scent of food filled the air, making Boy’s stomach rumble. He bit his lower lip, praying the
newcomer hadn’t heard it.
“Oh, I stopped by Starbloods and got you a tall Blood B latte with an extra pump of O Neg,” the
funny-sounding man said in a voice high enough to pierce the clouds. “You can thank me by getting
me that new iPhone I wanted.”
There was jollity and familiarity in the man’s voice, as if he teased Vlad often. Were the two
men sleeping together? Boy had heard the way vampires spoke to another right before one mounted
the other, rutting like dogs in heat. The assistant wasn’t using that same exact tone, per se, but it was
close enough.
“You have all the technology you need,” Vlad answered in a tone that sounded annoyed.
“Yeah, but this phone keeps giving me problems,” the assistant replied. “I can’t open my
Snapchats.”
“Go Google a friend,” Vlad said. “And take the latte with you. You know very well I don’t drink
that stuff.”
The assistant let out a loud snort as he spun toward the door. “Fine, but when my social life
suffers because I can’t send selfies, your ears will bleed from my bitching.”
The assistant was the strangest vampire Boy had ever heard. He hadn’t a clue what the guy was
talking about, but he sounded peeved. Just where in the hell was Boy? Upír’s coven hadn’t acted like
this. The members had been self-centered and cruel, but no one talked about having a phone or making
sure their social life was kept up through technology.
Boy’s head hurt from the conversation.
“Come out and eat, little one.”
Boy would have stayed where he was, but the mouthwatering aromas wafting from the bags Vlad
held out were making Boy’s stomach clench. He wasn’t sure he had ever smelled anything so good
before. His usual fare, when someone remembered to feed him, consisted of table scraps and stuff on
the verge of being tossed out before it went bad.
Boy scooted to the edge of the bed then shot a quick glance at the door. It was closed, so he slid
out from under the bed and slowly sat up. Vlad set the bags of food on the plush ink-black comforter.
Boy looked at the food longingly then glanced up at Vlad. The man was seriously going to let
him eat food on the bed? Boy knew he should stay where he was, but the hunger was overriding his
common sense.
Boy kept his movements slow as he climbed up onto the bed, ready to run the second Vlad made
a move, but the vamp just sat there, watching. Once he was settled on the mattress, Boy tentatively
reached out a hand and grabbed one of the bags. He kept waiting to have his hand slapped as he opened
the bag and reached inside.
Boy had no idea what he pulled out of the bag but it was long and golden and tasted like heaven
on earth, and he had an entire handful of them. He started shoving them into his mouth as fast as he
could chew.
Well, maybe a little faster. Boy started to choke. Vlad’s hand swung up, and Boy hit the bed,
covering his head with his arms. “No, not bad,” he cried out around the food in his mouth. When Vlad
didn’t hit him, Boy slowly raised his head.
Vlad had moved back, putting space between them, but the abject misery in the vampire’s red
eyes crossed the distance between them, tugging at Boy. He could only blame his lapse in good
judgment on the hunger eating away at his backbone. Boy reached over and smoothed the wrinkled
lines at the corner of Vlad’s eye.
“No more sad.”
Surprise, and the rise of his eyebrows, took the wrinkles away from Vlad’s face. “I’m okay, little
one.” The beginnings of a smile curved the corners of Vlad’s mouth as the man nodded toward the bag
in Boy’s hand. “Finish eating, but slow down. If you eat too fast, you will only make yourself sick.”
Boy nodded that he understood then reached into the bag for another piece of the golden
goodness. He chewed a little slower this time, only eating one at a time. Boy was a little shocked that
he started to feel full before the bag was empty. He didn’t want to give them up in case this was the
only time he ever got to taste them.
“Hey.”
Boy looked up.
“There’s a small refrigerator in the other room. You can put your burger and fries in there for
later.”
Boy clutched both bags to his chest.
Vlad held up his hand, palm facing out. “I give you my blood oath that no one will take your
food away from you.”
Boy’s jaw dropped. As sheltered as he had been in his prison cell of hell, even he knew what a
blood oath meant. There was no oath stronger. Boy slowly released his grip on the paper bags,
allowing Vlad to take them from him, even if he whimpered a little when they left his hands.
“Come with me, little one,” Vlad said as he climbed off the bed. “I will show you where your
food will be kept. You can get it any time you like.”
Boy quickly scooted to the edge of the high platform bed and slid off the side of the mattress to
the floor. He padded after Vlad, trying to peek around the larger man to see where they were going.
He didn’t like surprises.
Boy squeaked like a mouse on acid when they turned the corner and Mr. Purple was standing
there, arms crossed as he tapped his foot impatiently. Boy spun and started right back the way he had
come.
Maybe he wouldn’t even stop at the bedroom this time.
“No, no, Igorian won’t hurt you,” Vlad said as he tossed the food bags at the other man and
reached for Boy.
Boy hissed.
“That’s pretty damn good,” purple socks said. “Almost sounds like you, Vlad.”
One vampire knowing Boy was there was bad enough. Two made his life damn near impossible.
The fact that they were vampires and knew Boy was human just about sealed his fate.
He was going to die. He just knew it. They would lock him up in some dark, dank cell and drain
him drop by drop, sucking every last ounce of blood from his body until he was nothing but a lifeless
husk.
Boy slumped against Vlad, the fight draining out of him.
What was the point?
Chapter 3
Vlad knew the moment the fight went out of the man in his arms. The little bundle of nerves
slumped against him, the smallest of cries falling from his lips. Vlad glanced at his assistant as he
gathered the human up in his arms.
“Igorian is my assistant, little one, and I trust very few men as much as I trust him. He will keep
our secret.” Vlad gave Igorian a hard stare. “Won’t you, Igorian?”
“Sure.” Igorian frowned as his eyes moved to the human. “What secret?”
“Exactly,” Vlad said.
Igorian’s eyebrows pulled together, perplexed. “No, really, what secret?”
Vlad rolled his eyes as he turned and carried the human back into the bedroom. He wasn’t sure if
Igorian was joking around or if the man seriously didn’t understand that they had to keep the human’s
existence a secret.
He went to lay the human down on the bed when Igorian bounced down on the end, making the
entire mattress shudder. Vlad shot him another hard stare. He adored his assistant’s exuberance for
life, but there were times when Igorian acted just a little too childish.
“We need to be gentle with our human, Igorian. He’s been horribly abused and—”
Igorian shot off the bed like he had been electrified. “Human?” His voice was tight and scratchy.
“He’s a human?”
“He won’t bite, Igorian.” Vlad could barely keep from laughing as he glanced down at the
human. “You won’t bite Igorian, will you?”
Eyes wide, the man shook his head.
“See, Igorian, he won’t bite you.”
“Yeah, but how do you know he’s telling the truth? He’s human. Everyone knows they can’t be
trusted.”
Vlad’s lips firmed when the man in his arms whimpered and started to squirm. “Who told you
that?”
Igorian’s face flushed red, which was an interesting feat for a vampire. They were naturally pale.
“Cass.”
Vlad snarled, his lip curling back. “Cass is an idiot.”
Well, not really. The man was actually quite well educated. But he had a dislike of humans that
went soul-deep. Granted, the man had his reasons, but not every human was out to stake him through
the heart.
“Igorian, not all humans are bad.”
“Oh really?” Igorian crossed his arms, his foot starting to tap away once more. “So, it wasn’t
your brother that died an agonizing death from being doused with holy water? Your Uncle Vargas
didn’t have his head chopped off after having a wooden stake thrust through his chest? Hmm?”
Vlad sighed, his anger fading at the realization that Igorian had his reasons for disliking humans
as well as Cass. Humans could be very unreasonable at times, not to mention dangerous when they felt
they had been wronged in some manner, but then so could the rest of the world’s inhabitants.
Paranormals were just better at exacting their revenge.
“I do not believe our houseguest will harm us, Igorian. He’s just hungry and scared.”
“You can’t keep him, Vlad.”
Vlad’s chest ached painfully because he knew Igorian was right. Each coven leader was allowed
three personal blood donors. Vlad already had his allotted number. He could be sanctioned by the
Ministry of Paranormal Affairs and have all of his donors taken away from him if he was caught with
more than the law allowed.
Vlad detested the idea of using public donors. Finding a donor that had been screened of all
impurities was next to impossible unless he wanted to go to one of the high-priced blood clinics on the
East side of the city.
Blood banks were just as bad. The blood might be pure, and he could even get it flavored, but
there was always a stale taste to the blood provided from the blood banks. Vlad preferred his blood
straight from the vein.
“I am not turning him over to the Ministry, Igorian. There is no telling where he would end up.”
“So, what?” Igorian’s hand came out, waving aimlessly in the air. “You’re just going to hide him
up here in your suite?”
“For now, yes.” Vlad stroked his hand lightly down the soft skin of the human’s arm. “I’m going
to keep him up here where he is safe until he can decide what he wants to do.” He stood and turned to
look at his assistant again. “And you’re going to help me.”
“You’re insane!” Igorian shouted, looking as if he was about to pop a vessel.
Vlad’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when the human jumped up and hissed at Igorian. The
little creature’s fingers curled into human claws as he struck out at Igorian with his hands. Igorian
screamed—duh—and jumped back, pointing his finger at the man. “And you think he won’t try and
kill us in our sleep?”
A slow grin began to spread across Vlad’s lips as he watched the human crouch over the top of
him, his lips peeled back in an angry snarl. “No, Igorian, I don’t think he will try to hurt us.” Vlad’s
grin grew, his lips curving up as he glanced at Igorian. “At least, not me. I have no idea what he might
do to you.”
Count Vladimir Dracul was over seven hundred years old. He had seen a lot of things in his
lifetime. Centuries had come and gone, wars, the rise and fall of nations. He had even been witness to
the fall of the veil between worlds when paranormals came out to the humans, and the bloody
aftermath.
But he had never seen a human protect a vampire quite like the one hovering over the top of him.
And Vlad was positive that was exactly what was going on. Every time Igorian made a move, the
human also moved, keeping his body between Vlad and his assistant.
“This isn’t funny, Vlad.”
Vlad chuckled. “I find it quite amusing.”
Igorian’s lower lip slid out. “You would.”
“Igorian, this is what I want.” Vlad reached out and gently laid his hand on the human’s slim
shoulder. He felt the muscles beneath his hand shudder, but the human didn’t try and move away.
“Are you sure, Vlad?” Igorian had a skeptical glint in his red eyes.
“I’m sure.”
“Fine.” Igorian sighed. It was a heavy sigh, that of someone so put upon that Vlad almost
laughed again. This was why he adored the man. “Just make sure he doesn’t bite me and we’ll get
along just dandy,” Igorian added.
“I’ll try but I make no promises.” Vlad had no idea why his heart beat a little faster and his
palms grew sweaty, his throat dry, as the human settled back against him, still keeping his body
between Vlad and Igorian.
He shouldn’t be feeling that way, especially about a human. They were cattle, used for blood and
sex, nothing more. It was unheard of to grow any type of attachment to one. Vlad would be the
laughingstock of Phanta City if anyone ever learned of the warm feeling that filled his cold body
whenever the cute little human brushed up against him.
“My suite is off-limits to everyone except you until further notice.” Vlad had to think of the
human’s safety, as well as his own. Until he could decide what to do with the man, they were both in
danger.
“What do you want me to tell everyone?”
“Tell them nothing.”
“But—”
“Igorian, this is my coven, my estate. My coven members live here at my discretion. If I choose
to have my suite deemed off-limits, that is my prerogative. I do not have to explain myself to anyone.”
Igorian’s eyes slid to the human before they bounced back to Vlad. “They’ll ask questions.”
Vlad firmed his jaw. “Let them.”
“You’re asking for trouble, Vlad.”
Vlad’s eyes narrowed, the anger he felt at his order being question directed at Igorian, even
though he knew his assistant was merely speaking the truth. “You dare question me?”
Igorian blanched. “No, sir. I would never question you. I simply wanted to make sure you were
aware of all of the consequences of your actions before you took them. That is my job as your
assistant.”
The human clenched Vlad’s arm tighter, snarling at Igorian again. Vlad reached over and
brushed his fingers over the close-cropped head. How he wished he didn’t have to cut all that long hair
off, but the human looked ten times better now that the thicket was gone. “He’s right, little one.
Igorian is only looking out for me.”
Igorian cocked his head to the side, his expression scrutinizing. “Why are you doing that?”
“Doing what?” Vlad asked.
Igorian pointed to Vlad’s hand. “Petting him like that.”
Vlad’s hand stilled when he realized what his assistant was talking about. Not only was Vlad
smoothing his hand over the human’s head and back, but the human was giving off a soft purr.
“You are in serious trouble,” Igorian said. “I think you’ve grown attached to him. Have you at
least given him a flea dip?” Igorian threw his hands up when Vlad bared a fang. “Hey, I heard they can
have parasites.”
“He has been bathed and groomed,” Vlad defended as the human scooted closer to him. “Now, go
do whatever it was you were doing and leave us.”
Igorian bounced his eyebrows. “Can I get that new iPhone?” Vlad gave a low hiss before his
assistant hurried toward the door. “Fine, be stingy.”
Once the door was closed, the human moved away from Vlad. He took up his crouched position
at the head of the bed, glancing around the room. Vlad could see the fatigue in the man’s eyes and
knew he wanted to rest.
“You may sleep in this bed.” Vlad waved a hand toward the human. “No one will disturb you.”
As he walked toward the door, Vlad could see the human watching him closely. He probably
wasn’t going to sleep until he was alone. Vlad closed the bedroom door behind him and walked down
the candlelit hallway. He passed a maid who was carrying fresh linen and Vlad almost stopped to the
tell her not to enter his suite, but he was confident that Igorian had already taken care of that.
Vlad opened the door to his study and walked inside, shutting the door behind him before he
settled behind his desk and picked up the phone. It rang twice before Van Helpsing answered. “What a
pleasure for you to call, Vlad.”
Vlad ran a hand over his face, knowing this conversation was not going to remain pleasant. “I
have to cancel our meeting, Helpsing.”
He could practically hear the other vampire’s teeth grinding before he said, “This is the third
time you’ve put me off, Dracul. If I were a lesser man, I might be offended by your cancelation.”
Whether Helpsing admitted it or not, there was indignation in the man’s tone, stating he was
offended. Vlad hated politics. He knew he had to appease Helpsing. The man ran the second-largest
shipping company on the East Coast, and his connections almost rivaled Vlad’s.
“Have your assistant get in touch with mine,” Vlad said. “I give you my word that the next
meeting they set up, I will be there.”
He had to remember to tell Igorian to set that meeting weeks from now. Vlad had his human to
look out for, and leaving the man unattended while Vlad traveled to Helpsing’s territory on the other
side of town wasn’t acceptable.
“Fine, but if you cancel one more time, all of our dealings are off.” Helpsing hung up the phone,
leaving Vlad sitting there wishing he could remove the guy’s head. It was true that Helpsing was
powerful and influential, but the man was a pig and a pain in the ass.
Vlad decided to make sure all his ducks were in a row. He next called Thyr. Vlad trusted no one,
but Thyr was the closest thing he might call a friend, if he were so inclined.
“Business or pleasure?”
“Business,” Vlad answered. The panther shifter was part of a clan who knew how to accomplish
things without anyone being the wiser. The cat charged a high price, but he was worth it. “I have an
issue I would like you to take care of.”
“I’ll be by in an hour.” Thyr hung up. The panther didn’t like to discuss any transactions over the
phone. Vlad knew this. Thyr would be here in sixty minutes, slipping into Vlad’s bedroom so no one
would know he was here.
The panther shifters were like the ninjas of the night. And that was exactly what Vlad needed.
Helpsing had something up his sleeve. Vlad had caught wind of some disturbing news a few days ago
and wanted Thyr to investigate. If Vlad’s informant was telling the truth, then Phanta City was in
serious danger.
Replacing the phone in the cradle, Vlad left his office and headed back toward his suite. When he
entered his bedroom, Vlad came up short, his brows rising high on his forehead. “What on earth is
going on here?”
Igorian was rolling around on the floor with the human, both grunting and growling. Vlad
stepped to both men, pulling the human off his assistant. The human hissed and tried to claw at
Igorian, but Vlad kept them both a good distance apart. “Would someone like to tell me what in the
bloody hell is going on in here?”
“I came in here to ask you about the meeting you have with Helpsing when that thing attacked
me.” Igorian put up his fists when the human snarled and tried to wiggle free of Vlad’s grasp. The
scene was utterly ridiculous, but Vlad had to keep a tight hold on the squirming man.
“You must have said something or done something to set him off.”
“What is he, a freaking watchdog?” Igorian asked while keeping his fists balled in front of him.
Vlad glared.
“Okay.” Igorian rolled his eyes. “I might have said that he was nothing more than cattle and he
should be sleeping out in the stables.”
Vlad knew the man wasn’t trying to be mean. That wasn’t Igorian’s style. The man must truly be
concerned over Vlad’s resolution to keep the human for him to act in this manner. He could see the
fear etched in Igorian’s eyes and knew the man was apprehensive about Vlad’s decision.
“He doesn’t even have a name,” Igorian pointed out. “And I would advise you not to give him
one.” Igorian stepped closer, placing his hands into a ball in front of him. “Please, reconsider what you
are doing. This won’t end well.”
Vlad could feel his temper rising. This was the second time today his assistant overstepped his
boundaries. “Either you agree to keep this our little secret and stop arguing the point, or—” Vlad was
stunned when the words entered his mind. Was he really willing to send Igorian packing? The man had
been with him since forever.
Igorian’s shoulders slumped as he took a step back. “Fine, I’ll go pack my things.”
“Igorian, wait,” Vlad placed a hand on the man’s arm. He wasn’t sure what to say. Vlad had
never begged for anything a day in his life. He would be the first to admit he had a healthy dose of
pride and pleading with his assistant left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Okay, fine.” Igorian threw his arms in front of him, as if stopping Vlad from coming any closer.
Vlad had to stop the smirk from tipping up the side of his mouth. Igorian had a flare for the dramatics.
“Since you insist, I’ll stay. But put him”—his assistant pointed at the human—“on a damn leash.”
The human snarled, lunging. Vlad quickly pulled him back, holding the man to his chest. “What
were you saying about Helpsing?” Vlad quickly changed the subject.
“Oh, him.” Igorian dug his cell phone out of his back pocket. The case had more rhinestones than
a diva wore. “I got a text from Helpsing’s assistant. He wanted to know when to set the next meeting
up.”
That was fast. It was too damn fast in Vlad’s opinion. “Igorian, I want you to set up the meeting
for three weeks from now, not a moment sooner. I have some things I want to look into first.”
Igorian’s eyes lit up. “Please, do tell.”
The human shifted next to Vlad, his head moving closer to Vlad’s hand. Without thought, Vlad
began to caress the short hairs on the man’s head again. “I’m not going to tell you anything until I
know what is going on.” Besides, Igorian was a wicked gossip. Not that he didn’t trust his assistant,
but why tempt the man?
“Is there anything I do need to know?”
Vlad chuckled, some of his ire fading away at the twinkle in Igorian’s eyes. “I want the fridge in
my kitchenette stocked with healthy foods, something to tempt a human appetite, not fast food. That
stuff can’t be good for him. And make sure it’s something that can be easily prepared.”
“TV dinners, then?”
“Igorian!”
“Like I’d know what a human eats.”
“Ask around.” Vlad frowned as he replayed those words in his head. “Discreetly, Igorian.”
“Fine. Anything else, oh lord and master?”
Vlad growled, flashing a little fang for good measure. Igorian just laughed as he bounced out of
the room. The odd little man never took his growls seriously, which was one of the reasons Vlad liked
him so much. Igorian might have a healthy respect for Vlad, but he wasn’t a yes man either. Vlad got
enough of that from his coven.
Vlad got up and walked to the main door leading out of his suite, locking the door before heading
back to his bedroom. The human was once again crouched at the head of the bed. He was alert, but his
eyes were seriously starting to droop.
Vlad unlocked the patio doors knowing that his visitor would be arriving soon then walked over
to sit on the bed, scooting back until he could lean against the headboard. He patted the mattress
beside him.
“I know you must be tired. Come rest. I’ll watch over you.”
The human was slow to move, hesitating as if unsure of his welcome. Vlad just waited, letting
the little man make up his own mind. When he finally crawled over and curled up beside him, Vlad
draped the blanket over him then brushed his hand over the man’s head again.
“Oh, little one,” Vlad whispered when the human leaned into his hand and closed his eyes like he
finally felt safe, “what am I going to do with you?”
* * * *
Igorian couldn’t believe that Vlad was even thinking about keeping that hissing little thing. And
now Igorian was off to find it some food. What in the hell did he know about human food? Didn’t they
eat slop?
Driving to Phanta Seaside, Igorian pulled into the local grocery store. He twisted his lips when
he tried to get out of the car and realized he parked too close. Closing the door, Igorian backed up and
tried again. This time he was even closer.
After three more attempts, Igorian gave up, pulled out, and circled the parking lot until he found
a spot that didn’t have a car on the driver’s side. He cut the car off and got out, frowning at just how
far away he’d parked.
Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about anyone parking next to him.
Igorian shoved his keys into his hot-pink fanny pack and wandered inside, instantly assailed with
the smell of onions and garlic. The produce section was the first place he came to, but he wasn’t sure
if the hissing thing would eat any of this vegetation. Although Igorian didn’t care what the dang thing
ate, he knew Vlad would.
He saw other shoppers with carts, so Igorian grabbed one from the row of silver carts, yanking to
get the one he wanted free. It was stuck. He yanked again, but it wouldn’t budge. What did they do,
superglue these damn things together?
Giving up, he went to the next row, happy when the cart pulled free. As Igorian walked through
the store, he noticed that one of the wheels was wobbling. He was going to have to deal with it. There
was no way he was going back to wrestle any more carts free.
Igorian walked past a case filled with an assortment of meats. How on earth did anyone eat that
gross looking stuff? Would Hissy eat it? Igorian laughed to himself at the nickname he’d just given
the human.
A woman walked by Igorian, a toddler sitting in the front of her cart. He smiled at the toddler
and then jerked back when the kid bared his canines. When Igorian was sure the mother wasn’t
looking, he stuck his tongue out at the rude toddler.
The kid stuck his tongue out as well.
Igorian rolled his eyes and moved on. He wandered from aisle to aisle, second-guessing every
choice he was about to make. He did have a few things in his cart, however. But Igorian wasn’t sure if
Hissy would eat jelly, liverwurst, and a can of spicy sardines. Maybe he should toss some cottage
cheese in there as well.
As Igorian rounded the corner, someone slammed into his cart, his arms vibrating as he pulled
back. A very large wolf shifter came into view, his upper lip pulled back. “Watch it, bloodsucker.”
Igorian hissed at the man. “Screw you, flea bag.”
He stepped around his cart, dodging the man when the shifter moved closer. “What did you call
me?”
Igorian swallowed. God, the guy was huge! “I said, do you know where the canned peas are?” He
wanted to kick his own ass for being such a coward, but again, the man was fucking huge!
The shifter pulled his cart back and then rammed it purposefully into Igorian’s cart. The damn
broken wheel smashed Igorian’s toe. “You dumb son of a bitch!” he shouted before he could catch
himself, hopping on one foot.
“I’m going to tear you apart.” The man advanced toward Igorian, forcing him to run from the
store. He bolted out the sliding glass doors and headed straight for his car.
Igorian groaned when he saw a large pickup tucked in too closely. How on earth was he going to
get out of there? Squeezing down the passenger side, Igorian unlocked the door and slipped into his
vehicle.
Fuck it. Hissy was going to get McDonald’s.
As he eased out of his parking spot, Igorian cringed when he scraped his front bumper into the
side of the truck, leaving a long mark in the midnight-blue paint. He started to get out of his car and
find the owner until he saw Muscle Head heading his way. The guy had his fist in the air, threatening
to remove Igorian’s balls for hitting his truck.
With a thudding heart and sweat building on his brows, Igorian sped away, looking for the first
fast-food joint he could find.
Chapter 4
Boy opened his eyes and looked up at the vampire stretched out on the bed next to him. He didn’t
know how much time had passed, but the man had a tablet in his hand, busily tapping away at the
screen. Boy watched for awhile, breathing shallowly so as not to alert the vampire he was awake.
He was having a hard time understanding how he could remain so calm while he was snuggled up
to a bloodsucker. Hell, he didn’t understand why he was snuggled up to Vlad in the first place. Boy
had a deep hatred of all things paranormal. He didn’t even know how old he had been when he was
sold to a coven of vampires to be their blood slave. It seemed like he had been there all of his life,
living with the daily threat of death, or worse.
And he had learned that there truly were things worse than death. Upír took great delight in
making each second before taking his blood terrifying, agonizing. The man gloried in it like it was the
only way he could be satisfied.
He wanted the taint of fear in Boy’s blood.
“Keep.” Boy blinked rapidly once the word was out, afraid of what the vampire’s reaction would
be, and afraid that he had said it.
Vlad’s eyes darted down to him, a crease moving across his brow. “What was that?”
“Keep Boy.” Please, please, keep Boy. He didn’t want to go back to Upír. He wanted to stay here
with this vampire. Boy wasn’t stupid enough to think he could spend the rest of his life without an
owner. That wasn’t how the world worked.
He just didn’t want to be owned by Upír.
Vlad scared him. All vampires did. But Vlad didn’t terrify him like Upír did. Boy wasn’t sure
there was anyone on the planet that scared him like Upír did. “Please keep.” He would beg if he had to.
“Good Boy.”
He would be the best Boy.
“Is that your name?” Vlad asked in a soft, soothing voice. “Is your name Boy?”
Boy pressed his lips together as he considered the question. He wasn’t sure if Boy was his name
or not. That was just what he had always been called. There had been a lot of other names as well,
horrible mean names meant to show him that he was worthless. Boy was the one he remembered.
“Called Boy.”
“But is that your name?”
Boy shrugged.
“Ah, I see. Just something you were referred to then?”
Boy nodded.
“Do you have a name you wished to be called by?”
Again, Boy shrugged. He wasn’t real sure that a name was important.
The lightest of smiles curved up one side of Vlad’s full lips. “Then I think I shall call you Béla.
It means intelligent, and you are that, little one. I think under all of that fear beats the heart of a very
intelligent young man.”
Igorian was right. The vampire was insane.
But hey, if the guy wanted to call him Béla, who was he to argue? “Béla.” It didn’t sound too bad
on his lips. But he liked it even better when Vlad called him Béla. There was a slight old-world accent
to the vampire’s voice that gave every word he spoke a sexy tone.
Why he thought anything having to do with vampires was sexy, he would never know.
The vampire’s grin became full blown when he repeated the new name. “Yes, that’s it. Béla.”
So, okay, his new name was Béla. He could live with that. It was better than Boy. As he watched
Vlad go back to his tablet, Béla realized that he would have to get used to something else—living with
a vampire.
After escaping Upír, Béla swore he would never allow himself to become the blood donor for
another vampire. He swore he would never give that kind of power over to someone else again.
And yet, here he was.
As his throat muscles worked through the thick blockage in his throat, Béla held out his arm, the
soft side of his wrist facing up. He knew what he was there for. He knew his only worth was what he
could provide. Once he couldn’t provide, he would be of no use.
Vlad paused in what he was doing, becoming so still that for a moment Béla wondered if the man
was actually alive.
“Béla, there is no need for this.” Vlad smiled as he patted Béla’s arm, pressing his hand down
against his thigh. “I have blood donors to supply what I need.”
Béla felt the first stirrings of panic as he pulled his wrist to his chest, twisting his hands together.
There was only one other thing that the vampires took from him. As much as Béla detested sex, if
that’s what Vlad wanted from him in order to keep him, Béla would suffer through it.
What other choice did he have?
Tears clogged Béla’s throat as he scooted to the bottom of the bed and slid off onto the floor. It
took every bit of his remaining courage to push his lounging pants down his legs and then drop to his
knees, bending forward to press his forehead against the hard wooden floor.
His shoulders curled in over his chest as his heart became sluggish. Béla wanted to wrap his arms
around his body and become invisible, to forgo the pain he was sure to come. His ribs squeezed as his
skin crawled, but Béla refused to move.
Vampires were not kind when it came to sex. They bit and clawed, stretching the torturous pain
out until Béla thought he would go insane. Part of him wondered if that hadn’t happened already. He
was on the floor, waiting for a vampire to mount him.
Yes, Béla had definitely lost his mind.
The seconds seemed to tick by slower than a snail’s pace. Béla could almost hear the loud dong
of the hands on the clock going by. He curled his hands in and felt a pain in his chest when he heard
the mattress creak.
“Béla,” Vlad said, his voice clipped. “What are you doing?”
A heavy feeling rolled through Béla’s stomach as his breath caught at Vlad’s question. He
couldn’t stop himself from sitting up and glancing over his shoulder.
Surely it was obvious?
The muscle in Vlad’s jaw clenched. “I did not ask this of you.”
Yes! Béla inwardly screamed, and then he realized what Vlad’s words meant and his adrenaline
spiked as his limbs began to shake. “No! Please!” Bella crawled across the floor to reach Vlad,
grabbing onto his shirt, his head dizzy and his heart beating so fast that it hurt. “Please. Take.”
Béla had nothing else to offer.
He swung around and dropped his head back down, pushing his naked ass up into the air again.
He had never met a vampire that didn’t take what was offered. He had never met a vampire that didn’t
take whether it was offered or not.
He didn’t know what to do with Vlad.
“Béla, get up.” Vlad’s rough whisper sounded tortured. “Put your clothes back on.”
Shame flushed Béla’s cheeks as he grabbed his pants and pulled them back up his legs. His
movements were slow and jerky, his entire body feeling numb. Igorian hadn’t been right. Béla wasn’t
cattle.
Cattle had a purpose.
Vlad had no reason to keep him.
As Béla thought things over, he came to the conclusion that Vlad never agreed to keep him. The
man had changed the subject and started asking about his name. Maybe he never meant to keep Béla at
all.
“Come lay back down, Béla.”
Béla did as Vlad ordered simply because he had nothing else to do and no place to go. For now,
he was here where it was relatively safe. Once Vlad got tired of playing Good Samaritan, he would
either sell Béla or toss him out onto the street. Until then, all Béla could do was wait.
“Béla.” Vlad whispered his name gently as he eased Béla into his arms, stretching out beside
him, his hand smoothing down Béla’s back. “I will never take anything from you that you don’t want
to give me, and this isn’t something you want to give me, not really.”
Béla stilled, listening.
“I don’t know where you’ve been, but I can guess. And I would bet it wasn’t a pleasant place.”
A small burst of hysterical laughter shot out of Béla’s mouth. He wasn’t sure he even knew what
the definition of a pleasant place was. Being pressed against Vlad with the vampire’s hand smoothing
over his back was probably as close as he had ever gotten.
“But I can make this room a pleasant place for you, Béla. I can promise you that no one will ever
hurt you or force you to do anything you don’t want to do. No one will drink your blood or force you
to have sex, nothing. You don’t even have to eat anything you don’t want to, okay?”
Béla had to be dreaming. He turned his head slowly, rolling until he was face to face with Vlad.
“No blood?”
“No, little one.”
“N–no…”
Vlad’s lips tightened for a moment. “No, none of that either.”
“No have…” He licked his lips, uncertain. “Béla not worthless.”
“Oh, no, Béla, you’re not worthless.” Béla shied back when Vlad reached for him. Vlad stopped
for a moment then slowly reached for him again, cupping his cheeks. “You are not worthless, Béla.
You’re my…” Vlad smiled all of a sudden. “You’re my companion, here to keep me company when I
get lonely.”
Companion? Seriously? It suddenly became obvious to Béla that Count Vladimir Dracul was
nuttier than a bed bug.
A strange odor filled Béla’s senses, alerting him to the fact that they were no longer alone. He
lifted his head and started to scan the room, his eyes immediately falling on a rather large man
walking in through the patio doors.
Béla hissed as he jumped up to hover over the top of Vlad, curling his hands into claws. He
might die trying to defend Vlad—and the massive size of the stranger said he most assuredly would—
but he would take the other guy out with him.
The soft touch of Vlad’s hand over the back of his skull and down to his neck was soothing but
not enough for him to turn his attention away from the lethal man smirking at him from across the
room. The intruder even had the gall to cross his arms and lean aimlessly against the wall.
“A new pet, Count?”
“Béla is…a guest.”
Béla almost turned and hissed at Vlad. He wanted to be more than a guest. He wanted assurances
that he could stay, that he wasn’t going to be sold or given away like Upír threatened to do so very
often.
He wanted to belong to just one vampire.
When Vlad didn’t seem concerned over their new visitor, Béla relaxed, leaning back against
Vlad. He still kept his eyes on the man that started slowly prowling around the room, picking up an
item here and there before setting it back down and moving on.
“Did Igorian decorate your suite?” the stranger asked.
“You know he did. Igorian wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it.”
The man paused, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ve never understood that protective streak your
assistant has where you are concerned, Vlad. Does he not realize who you are?”
Vlad chuckled, his hand smoothing over Béla’s back. “He knows. He just doesn’t care. Igorian
believes it is his duty to make sure I am well taken care of.”
Béla could have sworn that the stranger muttered something like “Must be nice,” but he wasn’t
positive. The dark-haired man had turned away. When he turned back a moment later, all traces of any
emotion were gone from his stony face.
“So, you need my services.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Helpsing is up to something,” Vlad said.
The man lips twitched, as if to smile, but the twitch died too quickly to tell. “Helpsing is always
up to something.”
“True, but this time I think he has his sights set on Phanta City.” A muscle ticked in Vlad’s jaw.
“All of it.”
The dark man cocked an eyebrow as if Vlad suddenly had something important to say. “I’m
listening.”
“I caught wind of some disturbing news a few days ago, news that hinted that Helpsing might be
making a play on Phanta Seaside. I was hesitant to believe it because I couldn’t imagine anyone being
stupid enough to try a takeover of Loupyne Capone’s territory.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Helpsing called me to set up a meeting. He said he had a business proposition for me.” And that
was one of the reasons Vlad kept postponing the meeting. He wanted intel on what the man was up to
before he met with Helpsing.
One thick brow arched on the stranger’s face. “Now, that is suspicious.”
“There is no love lost between Helpsing and myself, and he knows it. For him to even think that I
would be willing to go into business with him is beyond belief. He must have something big in the
works if he thinks he can convince me otherwise. And if my informant was telling the truth, then
Phanta City is in serious danger.”
The dark stranger suddenly smirked, his golden-yellow eyes lighting up. “Which is where I come
in.”
Vlad chuckled. “Which is where you come in.”
The stranger tucked his hands behind his back, and Béla saw the strain of muscles in the guy’s
arms. They flexed with ease, as if no effort was given to stand that way. “How much do you want to
know?”
Vlad’s hand petted down Béla’s back and then rested just above the curve of his ass. “As much as
you can find out,” Vlad answered as the tip of one finger drew circles on Béla skin. Béla stifled the
soft sigh from escaping his lips. He didn’t want Vlad to realize what he was doing and stop. The
sensation had Béla’s skin tingling, his heart beating just a little faster.
The stranger’s lips twisted as he nodded. “It’ll cost you.”
Vlad made a strange sound in the back of his throat. “It always does.”
“I’ll contact you as soon as I have something to report.”
Béla blinked and raised his head, his eyes darting back and forth. The spot where the man had
been standing was vacant, and there was no sign of him anywhere. One moment he had been standing
there, leaning back against the wall. The next moment he was simply gone.
Béla whimpered.
“Not to worry, little one,” Vlad said as he stroked his hand over Béla’s close cut hair, “Thyr is a
panther shifter. He is genetically predisposed to disappear from one second to the next.”
Béla still didn’t like it. He was human. He had none of the extra abilities that paranormals had.
He wasn’t strong or powerful. He didn’t have lethal claws or razor sharp teeth. He was simply a
human with a human’s fears.
That was his ability.
Fear.
He was swimming in it.
Béla sighed as he rubbed the side of his face against Vlad’s thigh. He was so tired, but he was
afraid if he closed his eyes, he would wake to find it had all been a dream and he was back with Upír.
“Close your eyes, Béla. I’ll be here when you wake.”
Béla couldn’t fight it anymore. His eyelids felt like they had weights attached to them, pulling
them down. His eyes slid closed, a soft sigh echoing through his body as he relaxed and allowed
himself just a brief moment to not be afraid.
Just one moment…
* * * *
Igorian threw his arm over the back of his chair, his leg crossed over the other, bouncing
leisurely as he sat there and drank his crimson latte. “You know, Cass. If you stopped using those
cheesy pickup lines, you just might get an actual date.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my pickup lines,” Cass defended as he glanced around Starbloods,
his eyes landing on some man standing at the counter.
Igorian rolled his eyes. The vampire was hopeless. Cass couldn’t concentrate on a decent
conversation when hot guys were around. His brain was perpetually south of his belt buckle. “I’m just
saying…”
“A man wants to be appreciated,” Cass said, his eyes watching the man across the room like a
hawk. “He needs to know someone finds him sexy, that someone wants to touch him, caress him. He
wants to be the center of someone’s universe.”
Igorian’s jaw dropped at the sincerity he could hear in his friend’s voice. “If you said that, I have
no doubt that you would have men running for your bed.”
Cass turned and wiggled his eyebrows. “Who said I need a bed?”
Igorian felt like banging his head against the table when Cass slid from his chair and approached
the man he had been lusting after. When would Cass ever learn? God knew Igorian adored his friend,
but Cass was a walking clusterfuck when it came to picking men up, which was too bad because he
really as a nice guy—when he didn’t open his mouth.
“Boy,” Cass drawled as he leaned on the counter and a looked his target up a down, licking his
lips suggestively. “Your feet must be tired because you’ve been running through my mind all day!”
Igorian groaned as he quickly looked for an exit. Cass was about to have his head handed to him.
Even across the room, Igorian could tell that the cat shifter was not happy at being hit on. Cass
wouldn’t get that until he was laid out on the floor.
Idiot.
Igorian grabbed his coffee and jumped back when Cass went sailing through the air, crashing
into the table. He cocked an eyebrow as he stared down at his winded friend. “You ready to go yet?”
Cass panted heavily. “Ju–just give me a minute.”
“I’m getting another latte.”
“Wait!”
Igorian turned back, for a brief moment in time, concerned that Cass might have hurt himself
more than usual.
And then Cass grinned. “Tell him that’s a really great outfit he’s wearing but it would look better
on my bedroom floor.”
“Not a chance in hell.” Igorian stepped over Cass and walked up to the counter to order another
crimson latte. He needed a double, maybe a triple.
Hell, he needed his head examined.
Chapter 5
Vlad waited until Béla faded off to sleep before heading to the bathroom to take a shower. He
needed to do something to keep himself from thinking about the human or reaching for the man as he
slept.
He could still see Béla’s beautiful naked body bent over and waiting for him. The more that he
thought about it, the harder his cock became. The image played over and over again in his mind until
his body felt like one big, exposed nerve. His skin was tight, and Vlad was primed and ready. He just
couldn’t touch Béla. Not when the human felt like sex was an obligation.
Vlad pulled his clothes off and dropped them in the hamper before climbing into the shower. As
he began slowly soaping his body, he wondered if Béla was dreaming about him.
The heat of the spray made him moan. The water felt so damn good pounding against his tense
muscles. He leaned his head forward, letting the rivulets of water stream down his neck as his hair
became soaked.
God, this felt so good…almost as good as it would feel to— Vlad groaned and wiped his hand
over his face. His cock leaped to attention as he thought about the man that had dropped into his life
out of nowhere.
If Vlad could have designed the perfect man, he would look exactly like the one lying in his bed.
The short dark hair, the odd-colored eyes, the slick pale skin. Béla was a gorgeous human.
Vlad wasn’t supposed to be aroused. He knew that. But every time he thought about all that
naked flesh, his cock filled and thickened. He just wanted to feel the man’s hands on him, his mouth.
He wanted to feel his cock sink into Béla’s sweet ass.
Damn.
As he started soaping up his cock, he envisioned everything he wanted to explore… Béla’s thin
build, his slim curves, and especially his tight little ass. The more he envisioned, the harder he got.
There was just no way around it. He was going to have to do something about his aching cock or he’d
never get to sleep.
Vlad nearly cried with relief when he found the small tube of waterproof lube he had left in the
shower. He popped the top and poured a thick line from base to tip, lathering the cool gel around his
cock.
He closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his hand on the shower wall in front of him. As he
quickly stroked himself, it was Béla’s magical mouth that he dreamed about. In his mind, he saw
Béla’s lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him to completion.
He tightened his fist around his shaft and began caressing from root to tip. He ran his thumb over
the moist head, smearing the pre-cum around and squeezing lightly. Vlad bit his lip as he pumped his
hand to the rhythm his hips were setting.
The harder he stroked, the more he fell into his fantasy until he couldn’t tell if it was Béla’s
imaginary lips wrapped around him or Vlad’s own hand. The pressure built, and Vlad started to move
his hips. He thrust into his tight grip as he let out a long hiss.
As his thumb brushed over to tip of his cock, Vlad’s legs trembled and his breath caught in his
throat. Feeling himself about to explode, he leaned his back against the shower wall and let his other
hand fall down to fondle his balls.
It didn’t take long before his sac was pulling up tight. A web of arousal spun around him as he
squeezed his shaft, his thumb caressing over the leaking head. He growled when he felt the tingle
shooting up his spine.
Vlad threw his head back, crying out Béla’s name as hot ropes of seed shot out, hitting him on
his chest and under his chin. He smacked the shower wall as his vision faded to black and white. His
dick jerked wildly and pumped more cum onto the shower stall floor.
Smiling to himself at his fantasy, he let go of his cock and continued to soap himself off before
he rinsed, and then stepped from the shower. As he reached for a towel to dry off, Vlad wondered how
Béla would feel if he knew that a vampire had just masturbated to fantasies of him.
Béla would flip. Vlad just knew it.
Vlad didn’t intend on telling the man. Béla was already frightened. There was no sense in scaring
him to death. As he walked naked from the bathroom, Vlad thought about Thyr. If anyone could break
into Helpsing’s office and find evidence of corruption, it was the panther shifter.
Vlad wasn’t sure what Helpsing was up to, but whatever it was, he intended to put a stop to it.
Phanta City was not going to fall into the vampire’s hands. Vlad would make sure of that. He briefly
thought about calling Capone, but Vlad decided to wait until he heard from Thyr.
A soft knock sounded on Vlad’s door. Walking across the room, Vlad snagged his black silk robe
and slipped it on. Igorian was standing on the other side, his lips pursed as he tapped away on his
phone.
“I’ve seen you more today than I have in the past week.” Vlad stepped aside to allow his
assistant entrance.
Igorian flashed him a devilish grin. “Lucky you.”
“Was there something you needed?” Vlad glanced toward his bedroom, hoping Igorian’s loud
tone didn’t wake the human. He knew that Béla was exhausted, and Vlad wanted the man to get as
much sleep as possible.
“Oh, yeah!” Igorian smiled as he stepped into the room. Vlad closed the door and turned to his
assistant. “Word on the street is that Count Slovak Upír is on the hunt, and he is one pissed-off
vampire. You’d think someone threw holy water on him.”
“What’s he pissed about?” Vlad asked even though he was pretty sure he already knew.
Igorian pointedly looked past him. “He has offered a reward for information about his missing
blood donor.”
Vlad’s heart began to beat faster as he glanced back toward his bedroom again. Could Béla
belong to Upír? If so, then Vlad knew there was no way he could keep the human. The Ministry of
Paranormal Affairs would have Vlad’s head for stealing another vampire’s property. Although Vlad
hadn’t stolen Béla, they wouldn’t see it that way. They would have Vlad up on charges and beheaded
before he could blink an eye.
Vlad moved across the room, entering his bedroom where Béla was fast asleep. His fingers
moved so gently they were but a whispered touch as he pulled the blankets back and began to search
Béla’s body for the marking tattoo that would say he belonged to Upír, or any other vampire.
Béla stirred, but didn’t wake up. When Vlad finally pulled the covers back over Béla’s naked
body, he was satisfied that the man didn’t have one single mark on him—aside from the whip marks
on his back.
“Well?” Igorian whispered.
Vlad waved his assistant out of the room before he closed the door to his bedroom. “He isn’t
stamped with ownership,” Vlad answered.
“But do you think he is the one Upír is looking for?”
It seemed odd that Béla showed up in his stables at the same time that Upír was on the hunt for a
missing blood donor. Béla might not be the one Upír was looking for, but Vlad didn’t believe in
coincidences.
“I want you to go down to Phanta Hall and remove one of my donor’s names. It doesn’t matter
which one.” Vlad had no emotional attachment to any of his donors. They were blood donors, plain
and simple. They were merely there to perform a service for which they were paid handsomely. “Then
I want you to file the paperwork for Béla.”
Igorian’s eyebrows shot up. “You are claiming him as a blood donor?”
Vlad didn’t plan on feeding from Béla, but that was the only way to ensure no one could come
into his home and take the human away from him. That would solve one of his problems. “Yes, now
go.”
Igorian turned on his heel and began to walk toward the door. “You are one sneaky man,” Igorian
said over his shoulder. “You just better hope no one finds out that you put in ownership papers on Béla
the same night Upír lost his donor.”
“The man didn’t mark Béla, so he doesn’t have a legal leg to stand on.” Though Upír was a
sneaky bastard. If he found out that Béla was here, the vampire would try to steal his missing donor
right out from under Vlad’s nose.
He needed to tattoo his family emblem on Béla before that happened. An unmarked human was
fair game, and Vlad didn’t plan on letting Béla go. Vlad hated to wake Béla, but getting him marked
was more important.
Vlad hurried back to the bedroom and dressed as quickly as he could. A sense of urgency started
to drive him, making his movements almost jerky as he slid his feet into his polished dress shoes then
pulled his suit jacket on.
He wrapped Béla up in the bed blankets, tucking them securely around the smaller man. Vlad’s
breath caught when a small smile twitched the corners of Béla’s mouth, the human leaning toward
him, inhaling deep before he snuggled in as if assured he was right where he wanted to be.
Vlad had to believe he was doing the right thing, to believe that this was what was best for Béla
and not just his overwhelming desire to keep the human tied to his side. As much as he wanted to
claim Béla, he had to believe he wasn’t being selfish.
Even if he was.
Vlad held tight to Béla as he disseminated and teleported them to the man that did the marking
for him. There were only a few tattoo artists in Phanta City that were sanctioned by the Ministry of
Paranormal Affairs to mark a human. There were a hundred unofficial tattoo artists who would do it—
for a high price of course.
This guy wasn’t exactly official, but he would keep his mouth shut. And that was the only reason
Vlad even considered taking Béla to him. Well, that and the fact that the man was blind as a bat.
All of his art was done freehand, with just the name of the family given.
The upside was that the artist wouldn’t be able to tell anything about Béla other than the fact that
he was a human that had been marked by the House Dracul. And that pretty much meant that Béla
could be anyone.
Besides, the guy owed a Vlad favor.
Vlad shimmered into the back room of the artist’s place of business. He didn’t want anyone to
see him coming or going. As far as he was concerned, the less people that even knew about Béla, the
better. It meant less chance of Upír finding Béla.
“Count Dracul.”
Vlad frowned in displeasure. He hadn’t even announced himself yet. “For a man that can’t see
anything, you sure know a lot about what is going on around you.”
The artist was rake thin, with hair the color of crows and a knowing smile on his face. “There are
many ways to see, my friend.”
Vlad glanced around to make sure no one else was in the shop.
“To what do I owe this honor?”
“I need a marking.” Vlad started to nod to the man still sleeping in his arms until he remembered
that Rembrandt couldn’t see anything.
“Lay him in the chair.” Rembrandt turned and started gathering his equipment. “Will he hold
still for this?”
Vlad glanced down at Béla’s serene face as he gently lowered the man to the long lounge type
chair Rembrandt had indicated. “I’m not even sure he’ll wake up for this.”
“That would be best.” Rembrandt turned back, tattoo gun in hand. “Not all humans react well to
having a marking placed on them.”
Vlad debated waking Béla. He didn’t want to scare the human any more than necessary. Waking
up in the middle of getting a tattoo would certainly freak him out. The choice was taken out of Vlad’s
hands when Rembrandt suddenly cursed and tossed his tattoo gun down on the counter.
“What’s wrong?” Vlad asked as he turned his attention back toward the door, making sure no one
had come into the shop. “Why did you stop?”
White sightless eyes stared right at Vlad. “Are you positive you want to mark this man?”
The question had Vlad on edge. “I am.”
The man splayed his rugged hands wide before settling them on his thighs, his head cocked the
side as if he scenting the air for something. “Then we have a problem because his skin won’t accept a
normal marking.”
Vlad tensed. “How do you know?”
Rembrandt tapped a finger to the side of his nose. “I can smell it. The ink won’t take to his skin.
It will just bubble right out, leaving his skin unblemished.”
Vlad shoved his hand through his hair, frustrated. “Bloody hell!”
The artist remained silent for a moment. The sounds of the city that was just outside the door
interrupting the quiet pause. When Rembrandt spoke again, his voice was low and careful. “There is
another option but you might not like it.”
An eerie feeling slid over Vlad. “What is it?”
“He has to be branded.”
“No!” Vlad was disgusted by the very idea.
The artist stood, his sightless eyes falling toward the floor before his head tilted. “You came to
me for a reason, Count. We both know this. The only way to mark your human is to burn your house
brand into his skin and then wipe your blood over the broken skin. Your blood will not only heal the
wound, but seal him to you forever. No creature alive will be able to remove that mark.”
“It’s barbaric,” Vlad snapped. “I won’t allow it.”
“Please.”
Vlad’s heart lodged somewhere in his throat when he heard the softly spoken pleading and
looked down to see twin orbs of deep green staring back up at him, nervous but unafraid. “Béla—”
“Keep, please.”
Vlad’s throat went bone dry at the beseeching look in Béla’s eyes. He brushed his hand over
Béla’s head as he wondered if the man was going to hate him for this. “It’s going to hurt, little one,
hurt a lot.”
Béla swallowed hard, his hands clutching at Vlad’s shirt. “Keep.”
“You know if you get branded, you’ll belong to me forever. There will be no tattooing over the
mark, no changing it. Is that what you want, Béla?”
“Yes.” Béla’s emerald eyes began to twinkle. “Vlad keep.”
Vlad stared at Béla for a moment, knowing he was going to burn in hell for what he was about to
do. He grabbed Béla’s hand, holding it tight, and then nodded. “All right, Béla, if that’s what you
want.”
“Yes, want Vlad.”
Rembrandt chuckled. “He does seem to like you, Count.”
“Yes.” And Vlad couldn’t help but smile about that. He wasn’t smiling a moment later when
Béla’s eyes teared up as Rembrandt burned the brand into the skin at the base of the human’s throat.
The scent of burnt flesh was thick in the air, nauseating.
Béla never made a sound, not even a whimper. He just kept his eyes locked with Vlad’s as tears
streaked down his pale face. Vlad was pretty sure he would have been screaming his head off.
When Vlad used the sharp point of his fang to puncture the pad of his thumb, wiping his blood
over the wound, Béla finally made a sound, hissing as he arched into the air. Vlad snarled angrily at
the pain he could see etched in Béla’s face.
Such a beautiful face should never have pain in it.
“How much more?” Vlad growled impatiently. He wanted the serene look back on Béla’s face. It
was unacceptable for Béla to be in such pain, especially because of him.
Vlad felt like a monster.
“If you want the mark to stay, then I’d make sure your blood covered every inch of the wound,”
Rembrandt replied as Vlad smeared his thumb not only over the mark, but the surrounding skin.
“I know it hurts,” Rembrandt said, seeming to speak to Béla. “It’s probably going to sting for a
few more minutes, but then the pain will fade. The area will be tender for a day or so, but then it will
begin to scab over. Once the scab peels, the only thing that should remain is the mark.”
Rembrandt spun on his stool, his hand searching around his work station until it landed on a
small blue spray container. He turned back and held the container just a little ways away from the
brand then sprayed white liquid all over the burn.
Vlad’s eyebrows shot up when Béla groaned and settled. It was the most self-satisfied, orgasmic
sound he had ever heard outside of a bedroom or porn movie. It made his dick thicken and pulse.
Damn.
Vlad cleared his throat, suddenly wishing he was back in his shower so he could take care of the
hard-on pressing dangerously close to the teeth of his zipper. He had been in such a hurry to get Béla
marked that he had forgotten underwear.
“There, that should do it. If there are any problems, give me a call.” Rembrandt held a yellow
sucker up. “You’ve been a very good boy.”
“Not Boy, Béla.”
Rembrandt blinked. “Uh…”
Vlad chuckled as he reached over and took the sucker, pulling off the wrapper before holding it
out to Béla. “You’ve been a very good Béla.”
Béla grinned as he shoved the sucker into his mouth.
Vlad wrapped the blanket back around Béla then gathered the man up in his arms, turning to look
at Rembrandt. “Your debt to me is paid.”
Rembrandt grabbed his cell phone and tapped the screen. “That it is.”
Vlad shook his head, once again wondering how the artist could see that much when he was
blind. It didn’t make sense to him. “Thank you, Rembrandt.”
“Any time, Count.” Rembrandt smiled, which was a rarity in itself. “Good day to you, Béla.”
Béla had a sucker in his mouth.
He waved.
Vlad gathered Béla close to his chest and teleported them back to his suite. He almost let out a
very unmanly squeak when he shimmered into the room right in front of Igorian. He did jump, though.
His assistant, however, had no trouble screaming his damn fool head off.
Loudly.
Vlad rolled his eyes when Béla snarled and went after Igorian. His ears already felt like they
were bleeding from Igorian’s scream. He didn’t need Béla’s angry snarls to add to the damage.
“Béla!” he shouted, which he hardly ever did, “that is quite enough!”
Béla instantly dropped, crouching on the floor next to the bed. His head dipped, dropping down
to his chest. He didn’t exactly fold into himself, but it was close. His fear was thick in the air, choking.
Vlad didn’t know what type of world Béla had grown up in, but it had to have been a frightening one.
Igorian looked stunned, his jaw hanging open, not a sound coming out of him. Vlad wasn’t sure
he had ever seen his assistant so quiet before, not even when the man was asleep. He talked in his
sleep.
“Béla.” Vlad spoke gently, moving slowly as he approached the frightened human. Béla
whimpered when Vlad reached for him. “It’s okay, little one. You’re not in any trouble.”
Béla peeked up at Vlad. “Not bad Béla?”
“No, not bad Béla.”
Béla started to relax until his eyes slid past Vlad and landed on Igorian. A deep frown pulled his
dark eyebrows together, a snarl worthy of the most dangerous vampire curled his lip back. “Bad
Igorian.”
“Hey!” Igorian complained as he scampered out of Béla’s reach.
“No scare Vlad.”
Igorian’s eyes snapped to Vlad. “And you want to keep him?”
“Yes.” Vlad grinned as something suspiciously like joy bloomed inside of him. “Yes, I do.”
Chapter 6
It took everything in Béla not to pick at the scab forming on his throat. His skin felt tight, and it
itched like crazy. More than once over the past few days Vlad had reached over and stopped him from
scratching the mark.
A sudden lightness filled Béla when the steel shutters over the windows and balcony doors lifted,
allowing fresh air and light from the moon to filter into the room. He hated when the shutters were
down. Béla always felt trapped. What if an intruder came into Vlad’s bedroom? Béla would have no
means of escape.
He was sitting on the floor, trying to decide which color socks he liked best, when he felt
someone standing behind him. Béla jumped into a crouching position before he spun around to see a
large, looming man standing over him. Béla remembered the guy. It was the same dark-haired man
who had visited Vlad’s bedroom four nights ago.
The stranger didn’t say a word, standing there as if studying Béla was his only purpose in being
there. His greenish-amber eyes flickered to the mark on Béla’s neck. “Is Vlad here?”
Béla lifted his hand and pointed toward the living room where Vlad had been sitting, looking
over some papers the last time he saw the vampire. He was ready to run to Vlad, but there was no
need. Vlad appeared in the doorway in seconds.
“Thyr.”
The man leaned against the wall, a large yellow enveloped tucked under his arm. He gave Béla
the impression of something sleek and dangerous scenting prey. The white flash of teeth was more
chilling than a vampires hiss.
“Vlad,” the man stated.
“I take it you found something,” Vlad said as he crossed the room, absently brushing his fingers
over Béla’s head.
Béla leaned into the comforting touch. He loved when Vlad touched him—which was odd
considering his hatred for all vampires just a few short days ago. But Béla was growing to care for the
man in ways he never thought possible. He constantly woke with a deep fear that someone was going
to take him away from the vampire.
Thyr pulled the envelope from under his arm and held it between his index and middle finger.
“There is the matter of payment first.”
“You know I am good for the money.”
Thyr chuckled. “And a fae is good for magic, but I don’t trust them not to throw pixie dust in my
damn face.”
Béla was confused by the reference.
“Very well.” Vlad picked up the phone by the bed and dialed. “Igorian, bring my checkbook to
my bedroom.”
Moments later, Igorian came through the door, a flashing smile tipping up his lips. “Paying the
human for services?” Igorian laughed, and then his smile slipped from his face when he saw the
stranger standing in the bedroom.
Béla looked between the two, wondering why Igorian gave a low hiss. One of Thyr’s dark brows
arched, but the man didn’t say a word. Turning on his heel, Igorian left. That was the fastest exit Béla
had seen the man make, and the quietest. Igorian lived to have the last word.
Vlad looked at the closed door and then at Thyr. “You two know each other?”
The man shrugged and then waved a hand at Vlad. “Write my check so that I can give you this
envelope.”
Béla noticed how the stranger avoided Vlad’s question.
Writing on the small notepad, Vlad ripped a piece of paper off and handed it over. The man
tucked the paper into his pocket before he gave the envelope to Vlad. “There is some very interesting
information in there.” Thyr took his position against the wall again, his eyes dropping to Béla’s neck
once more before he looked up at Vlad. “It seems Helpsing is a very naughty man.”
Vlad opened the envelope and pulled a paper free, scanning over it. Béla watched as the
vampire’s expression went through a metamorphosis of emotions before his jaw clenched tightly.
“That rat bastard.”
Béla had never heard Vlad speak that way. The man was always so refined. But he could see that
Vlad’s composure was slipping as he read the paper and then turned it over. His eyebrows drew
together until they almost appeared as one long line across his forehead.
Béla knew that long drawn look. It wasn’t a good thing. Upír had looked that way right before the
beatings had begun. Béla moved back, whimpering. So far, Vlad had been kind to him, even gentle.
But what if the man took his anger out on Béla?
Thyr tipped his head before he moved toward the balcony. “Call me if you need anything else.”
The man was gone in the next breath.
Béla kept a close eye on Vlad. His muscles were tense as Vlad looked over the paper once more.
When the man finally glanced down at him, Béla had an urge to run and hide. Vlad frowned as he set
the paper aside.
“What’s wrong, Béla?”
“No hurt Béla.” He could feel himself trembling as Vlad reached out and feathered his fingers
over Béla’s short hair, but he couldn’t stop it. He was terrified.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” Vlad expression was one of confusion before his red eyes softened.
“Oh, Béla. I wasn’t mad at you.”
Béla cried in relief when Vlad picked him up from the floor and enveloped him in strong arms.
He curled close, trembling from the vampire’s earlier anger.
“Never you, Béla.” As Vlad’s hand caressed over Béla’s head, something began to warm inside
of him. His cock started to grow thick, his body aching for a deeper, more intimate touch. Béla’s lips
parted, a low groan vibrating in his throat as his head turned, unconsciously seeking more of the
caress.
“Béla.” When Vlad said his name this time, it was throatier, raspy, with a hint of huskiness.
“What do you want from me, little one?” Vlad’s voice held a growl, a low vibration of warning that
thrummed through Béla’s veins.
This feeling rioted through his system now.
“The sweet spice of your need is wrapping around me,” Vlad said as if fighting his own need.
“You are tempting me in ways you may not want.”
“Want.” Béla’s voice was just as husky, surprising himself. But it was true. He wanted Vlad to
touch him, to hold him in the man’s arms as Vlad took him.
It was building in Béla.
His body tightened involuntarily, every bone and muscle in him reaching for Vlad’s mouth, the
hot draw of his lips, the moist wash of his tongue. Béla had never known kindness when it came to
sex, but he was willing to surrender his trust to Vlad.
Béla could feel his heart struggling to keep up with the demands his arousal was placing on it. It
beat hard and fast, bursting through his veins, a pleasure in and of itself.
Vlad carried Béla to the bed, moving over him, the man’s lips taking Béla’s in the sweetest kiss.
Béla had never been kissed before, and a hunger unlike anything he’d ever experienced shook his very
foundation. He grabbed for Vlad, greedy for more as Vlad’s tongue plunged into Béla’s mouth.
Vlad tasted like heaven on earth.
Eagerly, Béla’s tongue clashed with Vlad’s, his body arching into the vampire’s as he tried to get
closer. Vlad’s arms went around Béla as Béla twisted closer. Béla stared into Vlad’s eyes and felt the
shock clear to the soles of his feet as his tongue continued to lick at Vlad’s lips. The man was looking
at Béla with nothing short of worship in his eyes.
Béla kicked his lounging pants off—the only thing he was wearing—and began to tear at Vlad’s
shirt. He wanted to feel the man’s skin under the palms of his hands.
“One moment,” Vlad breathed out roughly before he pulled away and revealed the most beautiful
body Béla had ever seen. The vampire was muscled, but not in a bulky way. The lines were tight, and
his chest was flawless. The breathtaking sight made Béla remember the scars on his back, and he
started to pull away.
Who would want such a hideously disfigured person?
Once he was naked, Vlad cupped Béla’s cheek. “Have you changed your mind?”
Béla shook his head. “Ugly.”
Vlad seemed confused before his eyes softened. “No, Béla is beautiful.” The man leaned forward
and kissed Béla, making him thrash beneath the liquid fire of the man’s mouth. Vlad’s teeth nipped
Béla’s lower lip before he crawled into the bed. Vlad was breathing hard and rough as his head raised,
his tongue licking over Béla’s throat. But Béla didn’t pull away.
Instead, Béla whimpered for more.
“Oh, sweet Béla,” Vlad muttered as his fingers slipped under Béla’s ass, one tip circling around
Béla’s tight entrance. “So sweet.”
Béla shuddered as Vlad continued to move his fingers, whispering the sexiest words into his ear.
When Vlad pulled his hand back, Béla let out a cry of protest. The man reached into a drawer and
pulled out a long tube. He snapped the cap open and wet his fingers with the clear liquid before
returning his magical fingers to Béla’s back entrance.
Béla hissed when fingers breached him. But then Vlad’s tongue surged into Béla’s mouth and
was certain he’d died and gone to heaven. A blistering need slammed into Béla as he twisted in the
grip of an erotic heat that was burning him alive.
“I love how you react to my touch.” Vlad’s rough whisper sounded tortured. He smiled, the curve
of his lips tight.
“Body hot.” Béla groaned. Vlad’s cock was a length of hot steel pressing against Béla’s suddenly
fiery belly as the vampire nipped at Béla’s chin. He nibbled at Béla’s lips, Vlad’s tongue raking
forcibly past them to dominate Béla’s mouth with luscious, ecstatic licks and smooth thrusts.
The fingers in Béla’s ass moved in a rhythm that had Béla swiveling his hips, trying to make
them go deeper. Vlad’s kiss tasted like midnight, dark and deep, frighteningly savage and yet with a
power so seductive, Béla became lost within it.
He was rapidly losing his mind in Vlad’s kiss. The building sensations were sweeping through
Béla, buzzing through his mind, his senses exploding with greedy lust until he thought he would go
mad. When Vlad lifted his head, Béla could see hunger glittering in them. Lust was too tame a word
for what he saw in Vlad’s gaze.
He didn’t think he had ever known heat as intense as he had when Vlad brought Béla’s hand
down and wrapped it around the rigid flesh. The vampire’s eyes flared. Béla smiled.
“Are you ready for me, my beautiful Béla?” Vlad removed his fingers from Béla’s ass. He could
feel the sexual hunger in Vlad’s large body.
“Yes.” Béla was more than ready. His body was primed and aching to feel Vlad’s cock sink deep
inside of him. Vlad stretched out over Béla’s body, the head of his bulbous cock nudging Béla’s hole.
His breath caught at the tight stretching sensations that began to burn his tender flesh. Béla
watched carefully, looking where they connected, his legs raised, knees bent over Vlad’s arms as the
vampire lifted Béla to him.
The pleasure beat at his brain, ripping past the fabric of reality and flinging Béla into a world of
bombarding colors and light. He shuddered, convulsing beneath the whiplash of Vlad’s touch as the
world dissolved around him. Béla whimpered in distress as Vlad paused, then shuddered as he felt a
hard thrust. Vlad looked as if he were barely holding onto control.
Vlad’s eyes closed as he drew back marginally, caressing the sensitive nerve endings of Béla’s
ass before the vampire stilled again. Béla barely had time to draw in a deep breath before Vlad
slammed hard and deep inside him.
Béla wailed Vlad’s name as the vampire pushed past the clenching muscles, stretching Béla as
his cock began to pick up a rhythm. He writhed under the vampire, fighting to accept the ample width
of male flesh impaling him.
Vlad’s eyes blazed down at Béla, his hands gripping Béla’s legs as he breathed out roughly. “Tell
me you like what I’m doing to you, Béla,” he demanded. “Tell me you are drowning in the same
pleasure.”
Béla nodded before he closed his eyes, getting lost in the maelstrom of sensations. Béla heard
himself scream as the pleasure burst inside him. Desperate, hard, he felt himself dying as his hips
bucked. His climax was like a tidal wave, tearing through him, heaving Béla’s body, shaking it,
shuddering through it, destroying him as he held tight to Vlad’s hair.
Vlad snarled as his hips moved faster, his cock grazing over the sensitive nerve endings. Béla
had never felt anything like this as he thrashed beneath Vlad.
White-hot fingers licked over Béla as Vlad sank his fangs into Béla’s neck, his cock pulsing
deeply inside Béla. Each movement the man made had Béla crying out. When Vlad slowed his hips,
Béla felt exhaustion creep over him.
“Sleep, my beautiful Béla.” Words whispered softly against Béla’s skin. “I’ll be here when you
wake.”
* * * *
When Béla woke, he was alone.
“Vlad?” he called out, wondering where his vampire was, and after what had occurred between
them, Béla had no doubt that Vlad was his vampire. No man, paranormal or not, could touch someone
with such tender and loving hands if it didn’t mean something special.
Confused, because he was positive that Vlad said he would be there when he woke up, Béla
glanced toward the bathroom door. Vlad’s disappearance was more than likely something as simple as
the man going to the bathroom.
Béla waited a couple of minutes. When Vlad didn’t come out of the bathroom, he scooted to the
edge of the bed and slid off, searching the floor until he found his lounge pants. Maybe he was in the
other room going over papers or talking with Igorian.
Béla padded toward the door that led to the outer room of Vlad’s suite. As he drew closer to the
closed door, Béla started to hear muffled voices through the thick wood. He worried his bottom lip as
he debated opening the door or not. Béla knew Vlad was trying to keep his existence a secret from just
about everybody.
If the vampire had company…
Béla pressed his ear against the door, listening. The voices were too low for him to figure out
what they were saying. And then the voices stopped, silence making Béla’s heartbeat seem all that
much louder.
Béla started chewing on his thumbnail as he leaned back and stared at the thick wooden door. If
he opened it and Vlad was having an important meeting, he would be really angry. Béla was trying
really hard to keep from making Vlad angry.
Maybe if he just cracked it open a little and peeked out… Béla opened the door and looked out.
He screeched as he shoved the door open, ran across the room, and attacked the man kneeling at
Vlad’s feet. He didn’t care that Vlad was just about to sink his teeth in the man’s wrist, or that the
human was screaming and trying to get away from him. He didn’t even care that Vlad was shouting at
him.
All Béla cared about was that some other human was trying to take what was his.
In the blink of an eye—and after one nicely placed fist—Béla found himself face-first on the
floor, someone kneeling on the middle of his back. Strong, forceful fingers wrapped around his neck
from behind, holding his head still.
“That is quite enough, Béla!”
“Mine!” Béla cried out as he tried to look up at Vlad out of the corner of his eye. “I give blood.
Me. Béla. Not him.”
“Béla—”
He held up his wrist, hoping Vlad would take it. “Béla give.”
The full impact of what he was doing was not lost on Béla. He hated vampires drinking from
him. Béla had dreamed of the day he would never have to be bitten again. Yet, here he was, begging
Vlad to sink his fangs into Béla’s skin.
But the thought of Vlad taking something the vampire needed to sustain his life from someone
else had Béla’s chest hurting, his heart aching, and his stomach cramping.
Vlad was his.
“Francis, leave us. I’ll speak to you later.”
Béla couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes when he was picked up and carried back into the
bedroom. He couldn’t even bring himself to look up at Vlad when he was set on the bed. He knew he
had been bad.
Even so, there was a dull ache where his heart was beating—a feeling of total and utter despair.
Béla couldn’t get the image out of his head of the human kneeling before Vlad. The sight had been
like a punch to his gut.
“Béla—”
“Béla sorry,” Béla whispered at the resignation and lingering anger he could hear in Vlad’s
voice. He grabbed the blanket and pulled it over his chilled skin. “Not…” Béla frowned as he searched
for the right words. “Not want be bad.”
Béla glanced up when he felt the mattress dip, and then quickly dropped his eyes once more
when he saw the deep frown on Vlad’s face as the man sat down next to him. “Béla sorry,” he
whispered, praying Vlad would accept his apology.
“I’m sorry.”
Béla lifted his head, scrambling to understand why a vampire of Vlad’s stature would apologize
to him. “Why Vlad sorry?”
Vlad chuckled as he ran a knuckle down the side of Béla’s face. There was amusement in the
man’s red eyes. “You are talking in third person, Béla. It is not Béla is sorry. The proper way to say it
is I am sorry.”
Béla blinked, not sure what to say or how to say it. Sorry was sorry, wasn’t it? “I am sorry,” he
repeated very carefully.
Vlad’s eyebrow peeked. “Are you, Béla?”
“Yes.” Béla shivered when Vlad grabbed his hand, not from the cold but from the feeling of their
skin brushing against each other.
“Why did you attack Francis, Béla?” Vlad asked. “He has been my donor for many years. He was
merely doing what he always does.”
Béla pulled his hand away, tucking it against his chest as his entire being filled with pain. He
rubbed the mark at the base of his throat with his other hand. “Béla feed.” Béla tapped the house
emblem branded into his skin, trying to remind Vlad that it was there for a reason. “Béla good blood.”
Vlad’s mouth dipped into a deep frown. “Béla…I didn’t ask this of you merely because I didn’t
want to bring any bad memories back for you, not because I didn’t want to feed from you.”
Béla’s heart clenched. He managed a small, tentative smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Béla.” Vlad smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a flash
of something as his eyes landed on the pulse at the base of Béla’s neck. They quickly darted away,
Vlad turning his head but not before Béla saw him lick his lips.
“Béla give.” Béla shoved his wrist under Vlad’s nose again. If he had been any other vampire in
existence, Béla would have been running for the hills. But he wasn’t. He was Vlad, Béla’s Vlad.
“Béla—” Vlad wanted to feed from him. Béla could see it in his red eyes. There was a hunger in
them that spoke to Béla on a soul deep level.
“Be—” Béla licked his lips, searching his mind for the right words. He couldn’t find them. “Béla
choice.”
“Do you understand what you’re offering, Béla?” Vlad asked. “If I drink from you, I may not be
able to stop.”
Béla inhaled slowly as he ingested the significance of those words. He had known nearly his
entire life that he would die at the hands of a vampire. For many years, he had assumed that death
would come at the hands of Upír. He never thought it would come from the vampire that had given
him back his life.
“Okay,” Béla whispered, saddened but resigned. If giving his life to Vlad was the only thing he
had to offer the man, so be it. Béla flipped back the covers and slid off the bed, kneeling on the floor
at Vlad’s feet. As much as he wanted to provide for Vlad, it took every last bit of his courage to raise
his wrist to the vampire. “Béla give.”
The blood flowing through his veins would be easy enough for Vlad to take. Béla’s heart was
beating so fast that the blood should be shooting through his system at an alarming rate. It should be
flowing like Niagara Falls.
When Vlad reached for his wrist, Béla almost pulled it back. He was scared. He didn’t want to
die. But he wanted to be able to provide for Vlad, even if the one time he did, it would mean his life.
“Come up here, Béla.” Vlad tugged on his wrist until Béla stood, then pulled him forward. Béla
climbed onto Vlad’s lap, his face flushing when he felt the vampire’s thick erection press up between
his thighs. “You never feed me on your knees, Béla. You’re better than that.”
He was?
“Better?”
A smile tugged at the corners of Vlad’s lips. One of his large hands slid down Béla’s back to the
rounded curve of his ass, reminding Béla that he was naked. In all of the chaos of emotion, he had
forgotten.
The hand curled around the nape of Béla’s neck, pulling him closer.
“You are my beautiful Béla,” Vlad murmured as he brushed his lips along the edge of Béla’s
cheekbone. He swept a kiss back and forth across Béla’s lips, brushing more kisses over Béla’s
eyelids, over both cheeks, and then gave him a short one on his lips.
Béla shuddered. His skin was heated, achy. Everywhere Vlad touched him tingled until his entire
body was on fire.
“I can smell your blood, Béla,” Vlad whispered as his teeth nipped at Béla’s chin. “It calls to me
more than anyone ever has.”
Béla tried to keep his breathing steady as the anticipation began to build inside of him. He had
never had his hands trapped before and found the experience exciting. His heart went wild and blood
rushed hot through his veins as a groan rose up in his throat, arousal catching him in a vicious grip.
Béla melted when Vlad claimed his lips in a toe-curling kiss that set his blood on fire. He could
feel their hard cocks rubbing against each other through the soft fabric of Vlad’s slacks.
Vlad’s hands roamed down Béla’s back and hips freely, caressing him, arousing Béla to a
fevered pitch. He explored Béla leisurely with his hands and mouth, making Béla feel as if he were
being slowly drugged.
“I want to savor you, take my time.”
Béla smiled, touched that someone so powerful could be so gentle. Vlad was always gentle with
him, and Béla loved the man for that quality.
On a growl, Vlad nipped Béla’s bottom lip. At first, they merely touched and caressed, kissing
tenderly, exploring each other’s bodies. Vlad was patient with him, even though the tension in his
body told Béla that Vlad was racked with the need.
He was kind and caring, treating Béla like he was cherished lover. It was as if he was afraid he
would break Béla. He didn’t want Vlad to hold back, not now. Béla wanted to experience every heart-
stopping moment.
Béla’s body arched into Vlad’s as the vampire stroked him, every inch of him hypersensitive and
greedy for his touch. Béla couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t hold Vlad tight enough. He was
desperate, a coil of need tightening inside of him.
Vlad carried Béla’s wrist to his lips with tender care and total reverence. And when he kissed the
heart of his palm, and then lavished the same soft worship on his mouth, Béla was lost to him
completely.
The kiss was intoxicating, a savoring caress as he kissed Béla’s breath away. His kisses grew
more demanding, more savage. Béla reveled in his passion, his breath catching as he tightened his
thighs around Vlad’s.
Béla’s body began to throb with the need to have Vlad deep inside of him. His blood went
molten, desire hot and possessive in his veins. There was nothing more intimate than the bond
developing between them.
Vlad’s crimson eyes were centered on Béla, watching him, exploring him.
Béla’s cock was hard and hot between them, but he remained very still as Vlad fumbled at
something between them. Béla realized what it was when Vlad lifted him up and pushed his slacks
down.
Béla cried out when he felt a finger rim around his asshole. It just circled his hole, enticing him,
torturing him. A slight pressure applied, and then Vlad’s finger sank in deep. Béla panted heavily,
wanting to feel more but needing a minute to adjust. He wasn’t sure whether to scream time out or
rock back and forth on the invasion.
The rocking won out as Béla began to rock back and forth, crying out loudly when Vlad added a
second finger and went in search of his prostate. Vlad twisted his wrist, grazing over Béla’s kill zone.
Béla’s cock shot a spurt of pre-cum as he cried louder. A third finger quickly joined the first two,
thrusting several times before they were removed.
A feeling of emptiness started to overwhelm Béla until he felt the blunt head of Vlad’s cock
pushing at his entrance. A quick inhale of breath was all he had time for as Vlad drove his cock deep
inside Béla.
Ah, damn…
Béla felt as if he was losing his mind with each thrust, each curl of Vlad’s hips, seating himself
continuously in Béla’s ass. Vlad’s cock was sliding back and forth, driving Béla crazy with the hard
heat of his mate’s arousal.
Shivers broke out all over Béla’s body when Vlad’s hand snaked up his neck and over his scalp
as Vlad grabbed a fistful of Béla’s hair and gave a light tug. Vlad sank his fangs down onto Béla’s
neck, biting deep.
Vlad’s growl was deep, throaty, and wild as Béla’s body shot its release, a rushing, endless
stream. His body felt like it was boiling over as the explosion seemed never ending. Vlad scooped him
up, holding Béla under his arms as he jackhammered inside of him. He thrust so deep that Béla
screamed out in pleasure.
Vlad pulled his fangs free. His arms became steel bands around Béla as his hips quickened with
unbelievable speed. Vlad fell back and rolled, taking Béla with him as he pounded his ass a few more
times before he growled out his release in savagery.
When Vlad pulled free a few minutes later, Béla groaned at the loss. He liked it when they were
intimately connected like that. It made him feel closer to his vampire. Vlad chuckled as he nipped
Béla on the chin then settled him down on the bed.
“I need to go clean up.”
Béla waved his hand as Vlad turned and walked to the bathroom. A smile slid over his lips as his
eyes fell closed. If this was how he was going to die, he wasn’t going to fight it. It wasn’t such a bad
way to go.
Chapter 7
Vlad chuckled when he walked back into the bedroom and found Béla out cold, snoring softly.
He used the washrag he had brought with him and gently wiped Béla down and then tucked him under
the covers.
Vlad stood there for a moment and just watched the little human sleeping in his bed. He had been
wondering what exactly he was going to do with Béla—until now. Béla attacking Francis had been eye
opening for Vlad.
Before Béla came into his life, he never would have considered only having one donor simply
because he was allowed three donors as coven leader. Blood from the source was much better than
bagged blood.
It was also a status symbol.
One that Vlad didn’t think he would need any longer. It was starting to look like he had found his
one and only blood donor and he was a gorgeous little slip of a human that tasted sweeter than
anything he had ever had, and brought him unimaginable pleasure.
But most importantly, Béla made him want to be a better vampire, a stronger vampire. Vlad had
to be in a position where no one would question him when he took a human as his mate, because that
was exactly what was going to happen.
Béla was his mate.
Vlad rubbed his hand lightly over Béla’s head, something clenching in his chest when Béla
smiled and turned toward his hand.
Had any human ever been so beautiful before?
He needed to talk to Igorian and arrange a formal ceremony, something that would tell his coven,
and the world at large, that he had taken a mate. Béla needed to be given his due as the mate of Count
Vladimir Dracul.
Vlad felt almost giddy at the prospect of having Béla at his side for the rest of his days. Sunshine
had nothing on the sweet man sleeping in his bed. Béla was quickly becoming the most important
thing in his life, and Vlad knew he needed to insure that Béla—and everyone else—knew how much
he treasured his mate.
A soft knocking at the bedroom door drew Vlad away from his musing. He leaned down and
brushed a kiss across Béla’s forehead then headed for the door.
“My apologies, sir,” Butler said. “You have guests in the salon.”
“Very well.” Vlad stepped out of his bedroom, closing his bedroom door before Butler could
peer inside. “Tell Igorian I need to speak to him.”
He had to arrange for his current blood donors to be dismissed. His mate would never stand for
anyone else taking his place. Vlad’s lips almost curved up in a smile as he imagined anyone trying.
Béla would quickly change their minds.
“Very good, sir.”
Vlad felt a new purpose in his step as he left his suite and headed downstairs to the salon where
his guests were waiting. Life was looking up.
Or so he thought until he stepped into the room to see Van Helpsing and his assistant standing
there. Vlad was caught off guard, and it must have shown because Helpsing smirked like Vlad had
given him the reaction he was hoping for.
The rotten son of a bitch.
“Sorry to intrude, Dracul,” Helpsing said as he gazed over the books Vlad had lined along several
shelves built into the wall. “But the date you set for our meeting won’t do. I’ll be out of town.”
Helpsing’s assistant shifted from foot to foot, looking uneasy as he glanced around the room.
The man was doing everything he could to avoid Vlad’s gaze.
Vlad thought about the paper Thyr had given him. It was a sealed contract with the one of the
Ministry officials. Helpsing had promised to get rid of the wolves who owned the Phanta Seaside
docks, and in exchange, Lou Garoux, head of Union Affairs at the Ministry, would build luxury high-
rises, making Helpsing a prime investor.
It was a goddamn real estate scam that would make Lou Garoux and Van Helpsing rich, while
everyone who lived and worked in Phanta Seaside got the shaft. What made Vlad curious was why
Helpsing wanted to meet with him.
It couldn’t be anything good.
“I’m not going to mince words here, Dracul,” Helpsing said. “Things are about to change in
Phanta City, and you’re either going to be at the top when it’s all over or you’re going to sink with the
rest of the bottom-feeders. The choice is yours.”
Vlad’s head tilted as he crossed one arm over his chest, rubbing his chin with his other hand.
“I’m not sure I fully understand your meaning, Helpsing.”
“I’m a lead investor in a project that will bring this city the glamour it needs, a project that will
clean out the riffraff and make Phanta City the place to live for paranormals around the world.”
“What sort of project?” Vlad asked, although he was pretty sure he already knew. He was just
curious how Helpsing was going to spin it.
“It’s a real estate venture, Dracul, one that could make us both very rich men.”
Vlad crossed his arms. “I’m already rich.” Hell, he was loaded. Seven hundred plus years was a
lot of time to amass a fortune.
“Don’t be a fool, Dracul,” Helpsing snarled. “I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime.”
Vlad disagreed with that assessment, but he needed to make nice with Helpsing until he knew
more about what the man was planning. “Send me the proposal and I’ll take a look at it.” Vlad
hardened his stare. “I promise nothing.”
Helpsing’s gaze was assessing and barely contained menace that Vlad knew was there. Helpsing
was not a nice man. He hadn’t been when he was a human and he certainly wasn’t now that he had
been reborn as a vampire. Over the years, he had gotten even worse, believing that the paranormal
world owed him something.
What that something was, Vlad had no idea.
Why Helpsing believed he was owed something was an even bigger mystery. The paranormal
world could be a harsh one. There wasn’t a lot of gentleness in today’s society. Everyone had to eke
out their own way.
Which might explain why Vlad was so fascinated with Béla. There had never been a time in
Vlad’s life when someone needed gentleness from him. They had always looked to him for his
strength, his power and position, even his wealth. They never looked at him like they needed his touch
in order to breathe.
Béla did.
Vlad drew in a steady breath, the beginning of a smile making his lips tremble. He wanted to end
this meeting and get back to his Béla. “I’m afraid I need to cut this meeting short, Helpsing. As my
assistant should have conveyed to you, now is not good time.”
Vlad knew that was the wrong thing to say as the words left his mouth, but it was too late to call
them back. The light of interest flared in Helpsing’s red eyes.
“Problems?”
You wish, you conniving son of a bitch.
Vlad smiled. It wasn’t a welcoming smile. “Of course not. I merely have matters to attend to. As
a coven leader yourself, you should be aware of the time and effort it requires to lead a large coven.”
As small as it was, Vlad’s coven was still twice the size of Helpsing’s. They both knew it. Vlad
had no doubt it was one of the deciding factors as to why Helpsing was even talking to him. If Vlad’s
coven had been any smaller, Helpsing wouldn’t have given him the time of day.
Maybe he should consider thinning out his coven?
Vlad started toward the door. Unless he wanted to be outright rude, in which case Vlad could call
the maddening vampire out, Helpsing had no choice but to follow. Vlad stopped by the door, nodding
to the guard there to open it before turning to Helpsing.
“I assume I will be receiving your proposal soon?”
“I’ll have my assistant send a messenger in the morning.”
“Excellent.” Vlad wanted to shout at the man to get out of his house. The longer Helpsing was
there, the more of a danger he became. “I’ll be expecting him then.”
Helpsing gave him a strange look, one Vlad couldn’t quite decipher, and then walked out the
door, snapping his fingers like he was calling his dog.
The white-haired elf that had accompanied Helpsing started for the door, pausing to look up the
stairs for a moment before turning to Vlad. His deep-amethyst eyes flashed, darkening until they were
nearly obsidian.
“Guard your treasure close, Count Dracul,” he whispered ominously. “Helpsing hunts.”
The odd little elf was gone before Vlad could shake himself out of the daze he seemed to have
fallen into. It wasn’t a glamour because that was a vampire ability, but the elf definitely had an effect
on him. Vlad was terrified for the first time in his life.
Chapter 8
Béla watched through a slit in the heavy red velvet drapes as a rather intimidating dark-haired
man stormed down the front steps of the mansion. His stride was angry as he shouted something to the
white-haired man. Béla took an instant dislike to the evil-looking stranger. If that guy had done
something to Vlad, Béla was going to hunt him down and make the man sorry.
“It’s not nice to spy.”
Béla rolled his eyes when Igorian appeared behind him. Didn’t the man have anything better to
do—like go fetch a latte or something? “No spy.”
“Pfft, whatever. I know a spy when I see one, Hissy.” The assistant dropped down on the couch
and pulled a throw pillow over his lap. “Though I highly doubt Vlad will punish you for being so
nosy.”
Béla took a seat on the floor, crossing his legs as he eyed Igorian. The assistant was loud and
rude at times, but Béla knew the guy had Vlad’s best interest in mind. Anyone who cared for Vlad that
much couldn’t be all that bad.
Maybe.
The verdict was still out on whether Béla liked Igorian or wanted him thrown under a bus. “No
punish.”
“Of course not.” Igorian’s expression held a note of mockery “You’re his favorite new pet.”
Igorian screeched and jumped up from the couch when Béla attacked. He was getting really tired
of the man’s mouth. One way or the other, Igorian was going to stop being so mean to him.
Even if he had to beat the nastiness out of the guy.
Igorian shoved at Béla, but Béla refused to let go. “Not pet!” he shouted as he grabbed Igorian’s
throat and began to strangle the guy. All Béla could see was the cell he’d been kept in, the boots that
used to kick him, and the whips he’d suffered while Upír’s men treated him worse than a piece of
trash.
The two rolled, Igorian landing on top. But instead of punching Béla, Igorian was trying his best
to grab Béla’s wrists. “Knock it off, Hissy, before you make me hurt you. Vlad won’t be too happy
with me if I leave a mark on you.”
Béla bucked, knocking Igorian off of him. The two jumped to their feet, circling each other.
“Don’t make me angry,” Igorian warned as he smoothed his hands down his pink dress shirt.
“You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry. I turn green and grow three times as large.”
Béla paused. Could Igorian really do that?
“I’ll smash you into a teeny tiny little square and then eat you.” Igorian’s lips quivered, and then
he burst out laughing. Béla had no idea what was funny, but felt his mouth curving up into a smile.
“Not nice.”
He jerked back when Igorian closed the distance and placed an arm over Béla’s shoulder. “You’ll
get used to my winning personality.”
Béla didn’t think so. He also didn’t trust this nice Igorian. It was some sort of trick. It had to be.
No one was nice to Béla. No one except Vlad. He tried to pull away, but Igorian kept a firm hold on
him.
“Now you see, I’m not that bad a person. But when it comes to Vlad, well, I’m a little
overprotective. But I can see that you’re sticking around, so we might as well bury the hatchet.”
Now Béla knew there was something wrong. Since when did Igorian want to be friends? Béla was
afraid Igorian wanted to bury that friendship hatchet in his back.
“Mental crazy.” He tried once more to pull away, but Igorian tightened his arm again.
“I’ve been called worse,” Igorian said. “And you can’t prove that theory. My shrink says I’m
getting much better.”
Béla caught movement from the other side of the room. When he glanced up, he saw Vlad
standing there. The man’s eyes seemed to shine when he looked at Béla. This made Béla feel all warm
and fuzzy inside. He couldn’t help the stupid grin that flashed across his face.
“Just trying to get along with Béla.” Igorian patted Béla on the shoulder before releasing him.
“Become chums.”
“I’m glad to see you two finally getting along,” Vlad said as he crossed the room and pulled Béla
into his arms. “I was beginning to wonder if I needed a new assistant.”
Béla could hear the slight humor in Vlad’s tone and wondered if the man was joking or if he was
seriously considering replacing Igorian.
“I’m irreplaceable.” Igorian wandered to the red curtain. “Just ask my shrink.”
When Vlad turned, giving his back to Igorian, the assistant stuck his tongue out at Béla and then
quickly smiled when Vlad turned back around.
The guy was kissing ass. Béla narrowed his eyes, but stayed in Vlad’s arms. He could think of a
few choice words to call Igorian, but none he wanted to say in front of Vlad.
“Béla, can you go into the bedroom? I need to speak to Igorian.” When Vlad released him, Béla
had an overwhelming urge to punch Igorian in his nose. But he did as Vlad asked. He just didn’t close
the door all the way.
Getting low to the floor, Béla listened.
“Igorian, I want you to arrange a mating ceremony,” Vlad said. “I want the entire coven in
attendance.”
Béla heard the screech coming before it even ripped through the air. “You want what?” Igorian
shouted.
“Béla is going to be my mate.”
I am?
“Are you insane?” Igorian asked. Béla nodded silently, agreeing with the crazy little assistant.
Vlad was a vampire. Béla was a human. The two species did not mate. “You’ll be the laughingstock of
the vampire world.”
“Are you disobeying an order, Igorian?” There was a quiet menace in Vlad’s voice. Béla almost
felt sorry for Igorian.
Almost.
“No, sir, but…but can’t you see what you’re doing?” Igorian asked. “He’s cute, I’ll grant you
that, but that is no reason to mate him. Keep him as a pet or something.”
“He makes me happy, Igorian,” Vlad said in a much smoother voice. “Happier than I have been
in nearly seven hundred years.”
Damn, the vamp was old.
“I know.” Igorian spoke as if he regretted even having to admit that. “I just worry, Vlad.”
“I have the same concerns, Igorian. Not many will accept a human at my side. But giving Béla up
is not acceptable. My need to be near him is stronger than my worry of what others may think.”
Igorian made some sound that Béla couldn’t decipher. Next thing he knew, the door was pushing
open and Béla was once again looking at oddly colored socks. The guy had serious fashion issues.
Igorian smirked down at him. “Eavesdropping is much better done when you don’t get caught.”
Béla snarled as he swung his leg out and swept Igorian’s legs out from underneath him. Igorian
crashed to the floor with a heavy thud and a loud cry of pain. Béla crawled over until he could look
down into the vampire’s face.
“No piss Béla off.” Béla quickly tucked his lips in when Vlad walked into the room. He glanced
at Igorian’s prone form then up to the vampire count. He lied through his teeth. “Iggy slip.”
* * * *
Igorian tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the engraved invitations he had Calypso
Copiers make for Vlad’s mating ceremony. God, he couldn’t believe Vlad was really going through
with this. Was the sex that damn good? If it was, maybe Igorian needed to find his own little human—
nah, humans were too much of a headache.
“Is this for real?” Calypso asked as he bounced toward the counter and set the white box down.
“Is Vladimir Dracul really mating a human? I thought this was a mistake, but went ahead and printed
the hundred gold-engraved invites anyway.”
Leaning against the counter, Igorian checked his e-mail on his smartphone. “Nope, it’s the real
deal. Although I’m seriously debating handing my shrink over to Vlad for a few sessions.”
The small fae snickered as he brushed his colorful dreadlocks from his shoulder. “I’d like to be
there when that conversation takes place.”
Igorian reached into his pocket and slapped two one hundred dollar bills onto the counter. “These
invitations were never here.”
Not only did Calypso run the local copier place, he was also an information broker. If anyone
wanted the news of something to spread, all that person had to do was go see Calypso. News flew out
of Calypso Copiers quicker than lightning could strike—for a price, of course.
Or, as the case with Igorian, when someone wanted to keep something quiet, that person paid
Calypso to keep a tight lid on things. Money talked and bullshit ran a marathon. But he didn’t want
word to spread about Vlad’s madness. There was already something fishy going on in Phanta City.
Igorian didn’t want to add to the insanity.
Calypso snatched the money from the counter and shoved it into his tight leather pants. “Who are
you and why are you here?”
Igorian chuckled. “Okay, so send the bill for the invites to my e-mail account and I’ll make sure
it’s paid.”
Calypso shot a thumb over his shoulder. “If not, you know the drill.”
Yeah, Igorian had heard about the huge bodyguard Calypso kept around. The guy stood off to the
side, sorting through some brochures, but Igorian had no doubt the man could spring into action in the
blink of an eye. When someone didn’t pay their debt to Calypso, the guy sent Wulfe Gange to collect
the money.
There weren’t many that didn’t pay.
The werewolves were the perfect species to use as muscle. That was what they were known for.
They didn’t hesitate to use the powerful force behind those brawny muscles to get the job done.
Wulfe Gange belonged to Capone’s pack—the big boss down at the Phanta Seaside Docks.
Whenever someone needed a bodyguard or simple brute force, that person hired one of Capone’s men.
Igorian had no idea what Calypso was paying Capone for Wulfe Gange’s presence, but the sheer size
of the man said he was worth every penny.
Phanta City might not be a luxurious place to live, but it was home for Igorian and he loved it.
But everything that happened in the underbelly of this city had a price. If one couldn’t pay that price,
he or she was shit out of luck.
That was when hustling took over.
“Luckily I pay my debts.” Igorian grabbed the box of invites. “Tootles.”
“You are one weird man, Igorian,” Calypso said as Igorian left the shop. The man had room to
talk. Who wore blue and green face paint? But Igorian never asked. He wasn’t about to tangle with
Wulfe Gange.
* * * *
Vlad furrowed his brows when he approached Igorian and saw what he was doing. “Why on earth
are you skewering those invitations to the bedroom doors with daggers?”
Igorian shrugged. “I’m just trying to set the tone for the ceremony.”
“Igorian,” Vlad growled, just about ready to lay his assistant out. “I would like it if you would at
least try to be happy for me.”
“And I’d like it if it snowed in hell”—Igorian’s head snapped back and forth with attitude—“but
that ain’t going to happen either.”
“Why do you hate Béla so much?” His mate to be was such a gentle creature. He couldn’t
conceive of anyone hating Béla.
Igorian’s shoulders slumped, and he leaned against the door and stopped nailing invitations to
the wood. “Look, I don’t hate your little human,” Igorian said, sounding more serious that Vlad could
ever remember the man being. “But humans and vampires don’t mate, Vlad. They just don’t. It’s
wrong. Béla is food, not mate material.”
Vlad’s eyes narrowed. “Who taught you that?”
“Gee, I don’t know…everyone?”
Sarcastic little twit.
Vlad leaned his shoulder against the wall and watched his assistant’s reaction as he spoke,
wondering where the man’s beliefs came from. Vlad knew he hadn’t taught them to Igorian.
“Did you know at one time, humans ruled the earth and paranormals hid in the shadows?”
Igorian stared for a moment than burst out laughing. “Good one.”
“I’m serious, Igorian. Just about fifteen hundred years ago, humans were the predominant
species on earth. Paranormals hid in the shadows. We were myths, the boogeyman, things humans told
their children to keep them in line or that they dressed up as on holidays. We did not rule the world.”
Igorian gasped. “You’re serious.”
“Perfectly.”
Igorian paled, bending in half to drop his head down, resting his arm on his thighs. “Why have I
never heard of this?”
“Ministry of Paranormal Affairs decided that this information needed to be hidden from the
general population in order for our society to come together as a whole.”
“How do you know about it then?”
“My father told me. He was a young man when the veil came down between our worlds. He
fought in the war for our independence.”
“War?”
Vlad nodded. “The human government had decided all paranormals were a threat to their race
and tried to eradicate us. That’s when we went to war. It lasted nearly twenty years. By the time it was
over, paranormals were in charge and all humans were required to register with the Ministry of
Paranormal Affairs.”
Vlad wondered if he had said too much when Igorian slid down the wall and pulled his knees up
to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. The man was usually pretty damn pale. Right now, he
was practically transparent.
“My father said that the humans were once a very proud race with a long illustrious history. He
didn’t believe that they should be relegated to cattle. They had a lot to contribute to our world.” Vlad
chuckled as he thought of the one thing that would gain Igorian’s attention. “Where do you think
Starbloods came from?”
Igorian’s head snapped up. “No!” he gasped.
“Yes. Starbloods was once a coffee house. It was started by humans. After the war, the head of
the coffee chain was the marked donor of a coven leader. Together, they built an empire that is still
around hundreds of years later.”
Igorian shook his head as if he were trying to dislodge what Vlad was saying. “Humans are sold
and marked. They don’t roam free, and they don’t have brain cells.” Igorian curled his lips in. “I
didn’t mean anything by that.”
“Go to my private library and look up the book on Wars. You’ll see that I’m speaking the truth.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that…everything I thought I knew—” Igorian rubbed
his forehead. “So, humans used to be the rulers of everything?”
Vlad squatted down, resting his arms on his thighs. “The Mona Lisa used to be human.”
“No.” The one word was blown out in disbelief. “Okay, enough screwing with my head for one
day.”
Vlad reached out and took the rest of the invitations from Igorian’s hand. “Go read up on our
history, and I’ll finish delivering these.” After all, most of his coven resided under the same roof. And
those who didn’t would get their invitations mailed to them. He watched Igorian get to his shaky feet
before he gave Vlad a strange look.
“You just had to go and ruin my fucked-up outlook on life. My shrink is going to have a field day
with this.”
Vlad chuckled as Igorian wandered away.
“True?”
He turned to see Béla standing just inside their bedroom door. “It is true, Béla. But there is
nothing I can do to help the other humans. History has written itself, and the paranormal now rule.” He
didn’t like the scared look on Béla’s face. Vlad crossed the hall and pulled his intended mate into his
arms. “But you have nothing to fear. I will protect you with my life.”
Vlad just prayed that it didn’t come down to that. Although he wouldn’t want the humans trying
to suppress the paranormal as they had once tried, he didn’t believe they were all bad.
Especially not his beautiful Béla.
Chapter 9
Béla watched as Vlad used a sharp straight razor to scrape the stubble off his strong jaw. Scrape,
shake, rinse. Scrape, shake, rinse. It was hypnotic, soothing. Béla was perfectly comfortable curled up
on the lounge chair in the bathroom, just watching.
“You pretty.”
Vlad’s eyebrows rose, his hand pausing with the razor just inches from his face as he glanced
over his shoulder. “You think I’m pretty, Béla?” The inquisitive way that Vlad asked said that Béla’s
answer was important to the man.
“Yes.” Béla frowned as he looked at Vlad then to the mirror behind him. He knew Vlad was
standing right in front of him, but all he could see was himself. “Where you?” he asked as he pointed
at the mirror.
“Vampires do not have a reflection, Béla.”
“Then how you shave?”
Vlad chuckled. “Practice.”
Béla slid off the lounger and strode purposely across the floor until he could slide between Vlad
and the counter. He slowly reached up and pressed his hand down over the hand Vlad held the razor in.
“Béla do, please?”
“May I,” Vlad said even as he released the razor into Béla’s hand.
“May I do, please?”
Vlad’s lips curved up. “Better.”
Béla sucked in his bottom lip, chewing on it as he concentrated, carefully raising the sharp blade
and moving it up Vlad’s skin. “You very pretty,” Béla said as he scraped the whiskers off and then
rinsed the blade in the sink just as he had seen Vlad do. “Maybe too pretty.”
Vlad chuckled. “Can a person be too pretty, Béla?”
Béla frowned as he considered how to tell the vampire how he was feeling without sounding
angry because every time he thought about it, that was what happened. He grew angry.
“Mates, yes?”
“Yes.” Vlad waited until Béla moved the razor away from his face before nodding. “We are
mates, Béla.”
“That mean Vlad belong to Béla and Béla belong to Vlad?”
Vlad’s lips quirked. “Yes, that is what it means.”
Béla glanced over Vlad’s handsome face, taking in the faint lines around his eyes, the smooth
skin he had just uncovered with the razor. He had no right to ask what he was about to ask, but Béla
figured things couldn’t get much worse than they had with Upír.
“No share Béla,” he whispered. “Please?”
It was unheard of for a coven leader not to share his donors with visiting coven leaders. It was
considered a courtesy. Béla couldn’t even count the vampires he had been forced to donate to, or
worse. Upír treated his donors like commodities to be bought and sold.
Béla’s heart sank when Vlad began to frown. “Béla be good for Vlad, be bestest. No bad Béla.”
Vlad’s fingers slid through Béla’s short hair before gripping the back of his neck, tilting his head
back at an almost impossible angle. Béla knew true fear when Vlad’s nostrils flared, a tight grimace
thinning his lips.
“I do not share, Béla,” Vlad growled. “I have chosen you as my mate, not my blood donor. That
means you are mine and mine alone. I will not share you with anyone, not your blood or your body,
and if I find out someone has touched you, I will kill them.”
Béla’s eyes widened with each word that Vlad spoke, He wanted to shout with joy, but the rage
burning in Vlad’s eyes held his words back. Still, if he was going to dream, he might a well dream big.
“Béla not share Vlad?” Clearly it was a question and not a statement. Béla wasn’t brave enough
to make it a statement.
“I should hope not!”
Béla was so overcome with joy that he grabbed Vlad’s face between his hands and kissed the
vampire. It wasn’t until he felt Vlad’s tongue brush against his own that he realized what he had done,
and he slowly pulled back, watching Vlad’s reaction carefully.
“Don’t stop now, Béla,” Vlad said with a grin. “That was just getting interesting.”
Never before had Béla even considered taking such liberties. He had never wanted to. Sex had
been nothing more than grunting and mounting a ton of pain. It was Vlad who had taught him that sex
could be tender, not rough. Taking in a deep breath, Béla leaned up and closed his eyes, brushing his
lips over Vlad’s the same way the vampire had done to him.
“Béla.” Vlad’s voice was a mere whisper, but held so much passion, so much fire, that Béla
threw caution to the wind and grabbed tufts of dark hair, pulling Vlad closer. Vlad’s breath skimmed
across Béla’s cheek before Béla closed the distance, pushing his tongue inside the man’s mouth.
Vlad let out a low groan, the razor clattering to the sink as Vlad wrapped his arms around Béla’s
body. The shaving cream smeared between their faces, but Béla was too lost in the aching need
coursing through his body to care. The only thing he cared about was being in Vlad’s arms.
“I need you, my beautiful Béla.”
A shiver of sensual heat had Béla moaning in agreement. His cock was a wedge of hard steel,
straining in his pants as he opened his mouth to say, “Béla need Vlad.”
Vlad licked at his lower lip, his hands gripping Béla’s hips tightly. A sharp breath exhaled from
Béla’s lungs at not only the sensation of Vlad’s erection poking him in his side, but at the heat he
could see scorching the man’s eyes.
Vlad’s tongue trailed down Béla’s neck, making Béla arch back, letting out a low moan. There
was nothing so sexy, so completely filled with driving lust and sensual excitement as the man kissing
his way across Béla’s throat.
His breathing became ragged when Vlad pulled away and spun Béla around, yanking Béla’s pants
down to his ankles. He could have sworn he hear an animalistic growl fall from Vlad’s lips.
He was bent over the counter with his ass pushed out and his hard cock jutting between his legs.
Béla heard Vlad’s zipper lower, and then the man grabbed Béla’s hips.
Vlad’s hands were shaking.
Béla had never been more turned on in his life. His body ached to be filled, to feel Vlad’s hard
cock pounding deep in his ass.
“Hard and fast, Béla,” Vlad panted as his fingers dug deep into Béla’s hips. “Brace yourself.”
Béla groaned as Vlad’s cock sank into his ass. His head spun and his pulse raced as his skin
stretched wide. Béla’s lips parted as small, panting noises escaped.
Vlad had the best dick in the world. It wasn’t too big, wasn’t too small. It fit perfectly inside
Béla’s ass, filling every inch of him until he wanted to scream out his pleasure. He opened his eyes
and glanced over his shoulder, seeing the sexual haze in Vlad’s red eyes. A course of lust shot through
Béla groin, making his cock throb with his heartbeat as Vlad’s fangs became prominent.
Béla had to slap his hands against the tiled sink backdrop to keep from sliding forward as Vlad
slammed into him from behind. The hands digging into his hips only added to the pleasure rocketing
through Béla.
The scent in the air was wild, untamed, and pulled at Béla’s heart. He had gone from hating
vampires to loving Vlad to the depth of his soul. Pushing his legs further apart, Béla damn near
climbed onto the counter, wanting to feel Vlad go deeper.
“You are truly a beautiful creature,” Vlad said as he scraped his fangs along the nape of Béla’s
neck. “So exquisite.”
“Vlad, please,” Béla groaned as he reached back with one hand and wrapped his arm around
Vlad’s neck. He wanted to feel Vlad’s fangs sink into his flesh. He wanted to be claimed again.
Béla cried out when Vlad’s teeth sank into his neck. His cock jerked once then painted the front
of the counter with copious amounts of cum. Pleasure inflamed Béla until spots danced in front of his
eyes.
“Béla!” Vlad shouted as his thrusts grew faster, deeper.
Béla grunted as he felt pulse after pulse of Vlad’s release filled his ass. There was nothing else
on earth like knowing he had brought his vampire pleasure. It was a heady feeling, a powerful feeling.
Once they were cleaned up, Béla turned to press his body against Vlad’s. He liked the fact that
Vlad was taller than him, and several pounds heavier. Vlad’s shoulders were broader, and that was just
what Béla needed, a place to lay his head for a moment and bask in the knowledge that he was being
held by someone that cared about him.
Béla nearly jumped out of his skin when someone suddenly pounded on the bathroom door like
the house was burning down. At the very same time, Vlad’s phone started going off.
Vlad swore and grabbed his phone off the counter, holding it to his ear as he walked to the door
and flung it open. “What?” he snarled, only once, but it was obvious the question was asked of both
the person on the phone and the very properly dressed man standing in the doorway.
“My apologies, sir,” the stranger in the doorway replied. “You presence is requested downstairs.
A representative from the Ministry of Paranormal Affairs is here to see you concerning your newly
registered blood donor.”
“Bloody hell!” The person on the phone must have said the very same thing because Vlad
snapped the phone closed and then slowly turned to look at Béla in a grave manner that instantly sent
chills throughout his entire body. “Béla, love, I need you to stay here.”
Béla tilted his head, staring at Vlad in confusion. He always stayed in Vlad’s quarters. How
would now be any different?
Vlad turned and walked across the room, drawing Béla into his arms. His face was solemn, sad.
His fingers trembled as he stroked them down the side of Béla’s face. “I have to go, Béla and I’m not
sure how long I’ll be. But I need you to do something for me, something very important.”
“Yes.” Béla would agree to anything if it would get that sad look of Vlad’s face. It didn’t belong
there.
“I know you don’t get along with Igorian very well, but I trust him with my life. I need you to do
the same.”
Béla frowned. He wasn’t sure that was a good idea. Igorian was bat shit crazy…and color-blind.
“Please, Béla.”
“Yes,” Béla answered because he had no other choice. Vlad had never asked anything of him.
“Béla trust Iggy.”
Vlad’s lips twitched. “Thank you.”
Béla nodded.
“If Igorian comes for you, I want you to go with him. There are some people downstairs that can
be very mean when they want to be. I’m afraid that they might try and take you away from me.”
“No,” Béla whispered. “Vlad mate.”
“Yes, my love.” Vlad’s hand caressed Béla’s cheek again. “But if Igorian comes for you, I need
you to go with him until I can find you. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
Béla didn’t understand what was going on as he watched Vlad walk out of their bedroom. All he
knew was that Vlad was leaving.
“Psst, is the coast clear?”
Béla growled when he saw Igorian standing on the balcony, his back to the brick wall. He
remembered what Vlad has asked, so he tempered his reaction. “Men gone.”
Igorian slipped into the bedroom and then checked the rest of the suite before he came back.
“Okay, this is not good. Anytime the Ministry shows up, things get funky.” Igorian tapped his chin
with his smartphone. “We need to find out what’s going on.”
Béla backed up. “Stay here.”
Igorian twisted his lips to the side. “Yeah, and when someone breaks that door down to haul you
away, then what? We have to get out of here.”
This whole situation scared Béla. He didn’t like being separated from Vlad. He would do
whatever it took to get his mate back. Even if that meant teaming up with bat shit crazy Iggy.
“We need to sneak downstairs and find out why the Ministry is questioning Vlad about his
registered donor.”
“Not donor,” Béla complained. Vlad said he was more than a simple donor. He was the vampire
leader’s mate.
“As far as the Ministry is concerned, that is exactly what you are.” Igorian grabbed Béla’s hand
and pulled him toward the door. “Come on. The more we know, the better we’ll be able to help Vlad.”
Béla bit his bottom lip when they exited the suite. He’d never been in any other part of the house.
He felt as if he were defying Vlad, but knew Igorian was right. They needed to help Vlad in any way
possible.
Igorian took him into the hallway and then pressed something under one of the tables. Béla
gasped when a part of the wood paneling slide to the side, revealing a stairwell. The entryway was
dark, making Béla take a step back. A cold, resounding fear took hold as images of his cell came to
mind. Béla didn’t want to be any place that was dark or cramped.
“No go.”
Igorian twisted around to look at Béla. “This will take us to the secret passage that leads to the
salon. We’ll be behind a wall. No one will see us, but we’ll be able to hear what’s going on.”
“No go,” Béla insisted.
“Don’t make me shove you in there, Hissy!” Igorian said in warning. “If we try to sneak down
the steps, someone will see us.”
Béla shook his head, adamant about staying out of that dark, enclosed place. His skin tingled
with remembrance of the whip that scarred his flesh. Echoes of the guards taunting him chased
through his mind.
They both turned when a noise sounded down the hallway. Before Béla knew what Igorian was
doing, he was shoved into the passageway, the panel sliding closed behind him. Béla bit the palm of
his hand, suppressing the scream that threatened to escape his lips. His body was frozen in fear as he
tried not to move, tried not to remember.
“We don’t have time for this.” Igorian grabbed Béla’s hand, pulling him down the steep steps.
Béla stumbled a few times, hitting the wall before he righted himself. Soon the passageway expanded,
and lights appeared ahead. Although Béla didn’t like being in this place, he felt a bit better.
“The lights activated when the panel sealed us in,” Igorian explained. Béla wished the man had
shared that bit of information in the very beginning. “No one on the outside can see the lights.”
They weaved their way through the maze of tunnels until Igorian held up a hand and pressed a
finger to his lips. He pointed to a wall and then hurried over. Béla followed. There was soft
murmuring on the other side. Béla couldn’t make out what they were saying until Igorian slid a tiny
panel aside.
“This is preposterous,” Vlad said sternly. “My donor is legally registered.”
“The paper is in question,” someone replied. Béla felt his knees grow weak when he recognized
the voice. It was a voice that leaked into his nightmares. A voice that made him nearly double over
and vomit.
Count Slovak Upír.
“If you come with us, this shouldn’t take long to sort out.”
Béla moved next to Igorian and peaked out of the small opening. He was looking out into some
sort of room where he saw a tall stranger walking away with Vlad. Béla began to growl, but Igorian
slapped a hand over his mouth.
When Vlad was no longer in sight, Upír turned toward his men. They were men who Béla
recognized, men who had tortured him many times over the years.
“Search the place. I know that Boy is here somewhere.”
Béla’s blood ran cold at Upír’s words. He wasn’t going back to that cell. Béla had gotten a taste
of freedom, a taste of what it was like to be loved, to be wanted. He now knew what tenderness felt
like, and he would fight to the bitter end to remain free.
Upír pulled his cell phone out when the men left the room to search Vlad’s home. He stood there
with a smirk on his face that Béla desperately wanted to wipe off—with a brick.
“My end of the bargain is complete, Helpsing. Vlad is out of your way. You are free to take over
Phanta Seaside and run those flea-bitten dogs out of here.”
Upír paused, picking something up from the desk. Béla wanted to shout for the man to keep his
dirty fingers off of Vlad’s belongings. “As soon as I have my blood donor back, then our deal is
complete.”
Béla wasn’t going to be so easily captured. He would make sure of it. Igorian grabbed Béla’s arm
and slid the panel back into place.
“We have to get out of here,” Igorian mouthed to him. “We have to find help for Vlad.”
Béla wasn’t sure how they were going to escape. Upír’s men were crawling all over the place.
Their best bet was to stay put until Upír was gone. He tried to tug his arm free, but Igorian had a firm
hold on him. “Upír bad man.”
Igorian gave a low snort. “No shit. I know where we can go. Just keep quiet. One of the passages
takes us past the main gate. We can go get help from there.”
“No house?”
Igorian shook his head. “If we appear in the house right now, we’re toast. Upír has men searching
it from top to bottom right now. We have to find somewhere else to hide, and I have just the place.
Come on, follow me.”
Béla was all for staying out of Upír’s clutches. He practically ran out of the tunnels, though he
had no clue where he was going. Although the passageways scared Béla, he knew it would be a smart
idea to learn them all.
He was going to put that on his to-do list, just as soon as he got Vlad back. They started to
descend upward until Igorian was pushing on a door. When Béla crawled free, he saw they were
behind some building, the entrance way covered by overgrown vines and weeds.
Igorian closed the exit. “We have to get down to the docks. One, we have to warn Capone about
what’s going on. And two, fuck, we need some protection.” They weaved their way through the throng
of people on the street, making Béla feel exposed. “Capone owes Vlad a favor, and we are about to call
that favor in.”
The further they walked, the heavier the scent of water and fish filled Béla’s lungs. He’d never
seen the ocean before. Upír had held him prisoner for as long as Béla could remember. Everything
around him fascinated Béla. He tried to stop in front of a large window that had food displayed behind
the glass, but Igorian tugged him away.
“We don’t have time to window shop, Hissy. Being out in the open like this is very dangerous.
We have to keep moving.”
Béla almost ran into Igorian’s back when the man suddenly stopped. They were standing outside
some sort of night club. The music inside was loud. Béla could feel the beat vibrating in his chest as
he glanced down the row of people lined up to get in. Never in his life had he seen more elaborately
dressed people.
Igorian stepped up to the men standing at the door. “I need to see Capone.”
The guy on the right turned to the man on his left, a wide grin spreading across his face. “This
jamook wants to see the boss.”
Igorian’s shoulders stiffened. “What the hell did you just call me?”
Béla was getting a bad feeling about this.
The one on the right with a scar under his left eye glared at Igorian. “No one sees the boss
without an appointment. Get to the back of the line and leave me alone.”
“I came here on behalf of Count Vladimir Dracul. Capone owes him, and Vlad is calling in his
favor.” Igorian shoved his finger into the guy’s face, making Béla take a step back. Now he knew for
sure that Iggy was insane. The two men at the door were huge! “You tell the boss”—Igorian made
finger quotes when he said the last word—“that I need to see him now.”
“The Nosferatu is demanding to see the Capo Di Tutti Capi,” the man with the scar said to his
friend before shoving his hands into Igorian’s chest, making Vlad’s assistant nearly fall on his ass.
“You still have to make an appointment.”
“Okay, you have left me no choice.” Igorian put his fists up, wheeling them in a circle as he
stepped closer.
The two men laughed. Hell, Béla was ready to laugh if the situation wasn’t so grave. What was
Igorian thinking? There was no way he could take these two down.
“Call me the undead again and I’ll sock you in the eye,” Igorian threatened. “Now let me in to
see Capone.”
The man with the scar growled as he rushed Igorian. This was it. Igorian was going to die and
Béla would have no clue on how to save his mate. His jaw hit his chest when Igorian popped the man
in his eye.
“Fucking puttana!” the man shouted as he made a grab for Igorian. Béla couldn’t just stand
there. He had to do something or they were both dead. He spotted a gun under the man’s jacket and
made a grab for it as Igorian swung at the man again.
Béla had no clue what he was doing when he pointed the thing at the huge man. “No hurt Iggy!”
The guy with the scar threw his hands up, taking a step back as a low growl rumbled through his
chest. “You’re going to pay for this, facia bruta.”
Béla waved the gun at the guy. “No name calling!”
“I really wouldn’t piss Hissy off,” Igorian warned. “He likes to bite.”
When Igorian reached for the gun, Béla let him have it. He hadn’t a clue what to do with it
anyway. “Now take us to Capone,” Igorian said.
The man with the scar gave them an evil smile. “Sure, right this way.”
“Do I look stupid to you?” Igorian asked. “I’m not going through that crowd of people. Take us
around back.”
Béla could hear the tension in Igorian’s voice, but hurried along when the man with the scar led
the way. Béla kept looking over his shoulder, excepting Upír to appear at any moment and snatch him
away.
They walked down an alleyway that smelled like sex and urine and rot before stopping at a large
metal door. The man reached for the handle, but Igorian’s words stopped him. “No, I want you to call
Capone and tell him to meet us out here.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” the man nearly shouted. “You don’t ask the boss of the mafia to
meet you unless you want to be whacked.” The man’s smile returned. “On second thought, let me
make that phone call for you.”
Chapter 10
Igorian was going to be sick. His stomach was tied in so many knots he was unsure if he would
ever get them straightened back out. The brave face he’d put on while he waited for Capone to appear
was just that, a face.
It was a sham.
If the werewolf staring daggers at him had any idea of just how scared Igorian really was, he’d
laugh himself silly—as he beat Igorian over the head with his gun. The guy wouldn’t even bother to
waste any bullets.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Igorian was forever grateful that Vlad had taught him how to handle a gun when he heard the
deep voice behind him. He might have pulled the trigger otherwise, and that would not have been
good.
Igorian turned. He swallowed hard and wished that he was back home, safe and sound, tucked
into his bed. There was a very simple reason that Loupyne Capone was the head of the Capone family.
He was the biggest damn werewolf Igorian had ever seen.
“Please forgive our intrusion, Don Capone. We mean no disrespect.” Igorian wasn’t stupid by
any means. He held out his hand, turning the gun so he could hand it over, butt first. “I am Igorian,
assistant to Count Vladimir Dracul.”
“I know who you are.” The large man didn’t sound happy about that fact.
“I know it is against protocol to present myself to you in this manner but it is of the utmost
importance that I speak with you.”
The werewolf Don stared for a moment then slowly turned away as if bored by the whole
conversation. “You may speak with my Caporegime. If what you have to say is worth my time, he will
inform me. There’s a reason we have a pecking order to follow.”
Damn it!
“Count Dracul sent me here because you owe him a favor and he is calling in that favor.”
“Then he should have come to me himself.” Capone’s lip curled back, the disgust on his face
warring with his irritation.
“Look, Vlad is in trouble. The Ministry came for him.”
Capone’s muscles bunched as if he was preparing himself for battle. “The Ministry? Why?”
“They are saying that Vlad’s papers on Béla aren’t valid, but I know that’s a lie because I filed
them myself. Slovak Upír was with the delegate from the Ministry. After Vlad was taken away for
questioning, Upír ordered his men to search the mansion. That’s when I knew I needed to get Béla out
of there.”
“Upír bad man,” Béla said as he nodded his head rapidly.
“I had heard that Upír was looking for a lost blood donor.” The Don’s eyes settled on Béla, and
not in a good way. There was speculation in them, calculation. “Two counts after the same donor.
Must be some pretty damn good blood.”
Capone reached out and brushed his fingers across the brand at the base of Béla’s throat. Igorian
groaned, just knowing things were about to go south. He knew he was right when Béla batted Capone’s
hand away.
“No touch Béla. Vlad no share.”
“You dare?” Capone snapped. The men standing on either side of him tensed, reaching for their
guns. “I could have you whacked for such disrespect.”
“You no touch,” Béla insisted. He tapped the brand on his skin that declared him property of
House Dracul. “Béla belong to Vlad. Only he touch.”
Igorian grabbed Béla’s arm and yanked the small human forward. “Béla is more than Vlad’s
blood donor. He is his mate and his life is in danger from Slovak Upír.” Igorian knew he probably
shouldn’t be sharing that bit of information, but he needed Capone to listen to him.
Capone’s dark-brown eyebrow slowly arched as he turned back around. “Dracul has chosen a
human as his mate? I do not believe it.”
“Ask Calypso,” Igorian replied. “I ordered invitations to the mating ceremony from him five
days ago.”
Capone snorted with disbelief. “Calypso would say whatever you wanted for the right price.”
Well, that much was true.
Igorian barely kept himself from rolling his eyes as he reached inside his pocket and pulled out
one of the gold-encrusted crimson-red invitations. He held it out to Capone and then waited.
Igorian was an able assistant to Count Vladimir Dracul. He made it his mission to ensure he
knew everything he could about anyone Vlad associated with, and that included the head of the
Capone family.
One of the things he had learned was that there was a set of rules that the family followed, rules
that were never broken. One of those rules stated that the mates must be treated with respect. Igorian
was really hoping that that particular rule was meant for everyone and not just those who were part of
the Capone family.
“So, it’s true, then,” Capone finally said as he handed the invitation back.
“Yes, it’s true.”
“Madonn’!” Capone shook his head. “What was he thinking?”
Igorian’s eyes slid to Béla. “I’ve asked myself that numerous times. As confusing as it is,
protecting Béla is what my count wants me to do and I can do no other than follow his commands.”
Capone should understand about honor and keeping his word. Igorian had promised to look after
Hissy, and that was what he planned on doing.
Unless Capone wanted to whack him. Then Igorian might reconsider his—damn it. No, he
wouldn’t.
“No, I suppose not.” Capone rubbed the brown hairs on his chin as he stared at Béla. “I do owe
Dracul a favor. If protecting his…his Béla is how he wants me to repay it, consider it done.”
Capone gestured to the two men standing on either side of him. “Frank and Ken Stein are twins.
They are okay wolves even if they do have a few screws loose.” Capone smirked. “And they are very
good at what they do.”
Igorian was almost afraid to ask as he looked at the two beefy bodyguards. “And what is it that
they do?”
“They enforce the family rules.”
They looked like they were very good at enforcing whatever Capone wanted them to enforce. Not
even in a dark alley with a bazooka would Igorian be stupid enough to take those two on.
He liked breathing.
A lot.
Igorian gave a slight bow, going through all the politics he knew the boss expected. “My count
will consider your favor paid in full if you keep Béla safe.”
“Consider it done.” Capone pressed his fingertips together as he stared at Béla. “However, as I
am granting you two of my best foot soldiers and not just one, I will require something in return.”
Igorian’s eyes narrowed. He knew he couldn’t trust the wolf. This deal had gone a little too
smoothly. “What is it you require?”
Capone’s lips curled up at the corners. If Igorian didn’t know that the man was a killer, he might
have considered him handsome—in a rugged, don’t fuck with me sort of way.
“It amuses me that two such powerful vampires are fighting over one little human donor. In
exchange for receiving the protection of two of my best soldiers, I want a taste of Béla’s blood.”
“No!” Béla snapped as he grabbed Igorian’s arm and started pulling him back down the alley.
“Blood for Vlad. No share.”
Igorian hesitated, glancing between the small human and the huge werewolf. They really did
need some protection. If donating a little blood meant they got it… “It’s just a little blood, Béla.”
“No!” Béla stomped his foot. “No share.”
Igorian gave Béla an exasperated expression. “Geez, Hissy, prick a finger for fuck’s sake.”
Béla shoved Igorian away from him then jabbed a finger in his direction. “Bad Iggy.”
Igorian realized he might have pushed things just a little bit when Béla spun around and started
marching away at a fast clip. The human’s hands were clenched at his sides as he walked, muttering to
himself about bad vampires and crazy wolves.
Igorian glanced back at the werewolf leader and shrugged before turning and hurrying after Béla.
He had to stop the insane little man before he got away. If anything happened to Béla, no one in
Phanta City would be safe from Vlad’s wrath.
“Béla, stop, I didn’t mean it.” Béla was fast. Igorian actually had to put a little speed into his
pursuit to catch up with the man. “Come on. Vlad wants us to stay with Capone.”
“No share blood!”
Igorian rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to share your blood.”
Béla stopped and turned. “No share?”
“No, you don’t have to share.” Wow, humans were so touchy about their blood. “We’ll just have
to settle for one guard.”
Béla grimaced as he glanced around the smelly alley. “That enough?”
“Probably not but what other choice do with have?”
“Can’t share,” Béla insisted. “Vlad said.”
Igorian sighed as he wrapped an arm around Béla’s shoulders and started leading him back
toward the waiting wise guys. “I know, Béla. We’ll figure something out.”
Igorian just wished he knew what. If Capone was insistent, Igorian would have no other choice
but to take Béla somewhere else, and he was at a loss as where that could be. Helpsing and Upír
weren’t stupid men. They would search every coven property, every business, and every associate.
That didn’t leave Igorian with a lot of options.
“My apologies, Don Capone, but we can only take one soldier.” He was probably going to end up
with a Colombian necktie for refusing the man’s request. “Béla’s blood is only for his mate.”
“Good.”
Igorian blinked as the man turned around and started back inside the building. What had just
happened?
“Béla has proven that he is the true mate of Count Dracul,” Capone continued. “He will be
treated as such.”
“Thank you.” That was good.
Wasn’t it?
* * * *
Béla glanced around the room he and Igorian had been escorted to. It was a nice room as rooms
went, even if none of the furniture matched. But it was nothing like the luxurious quarters Vlad
occupied.
The couch was tan, the side chair red and green checkered. The bookshelves on the wall—which
didn’t even hold books—were made of a light-colored wood. The desk that Capone sat behind was a
dark mahogany wood. Nothing matched. The office needed a design makeover more than Igorian
needed a fashion update.
Béla wasn’t sure going to the werewolves was their best option. True, he hadn’t met that many in
his time, but what he had heard from the vampires around Upír’s compound didn’t endear him to the
furry creatures, especially someone with Capone’s reputation. The man would sooner rip someone’s
throat out as look at them.
The way Capone kept glancing at him didn’t help. There was a calculating glint in the man’s
golden eyes that made Béla wonder if Capone was trying to figure out how much he could get for Béla
on the open market.
Béla wanted to scream at the man that he wasn’t worthless and that he wasn’t up for sale either.
He belonged to Count Vladimir Dracul, the fiercest vampire in all of Phanta City.
Béla tugged on Igorian’s sleeve to get his attention. “Want Vlad.” The need to be near his
vampire was growing stronger, more intense. Béla’s stomach was rolling with fear.
“Soon, Béla,” Igorian said, using a tone Béla couldn’t ever remember the man using when
speaking to him. It was actually somewhat friendly. “I have to make some phone calls and see if I can
arrange Vlad’s release.”
“Why Vlad taken?” Béla still wasn’t sure he understood that one. He got it that Slovak Upír had
something to do with it, but there was more going on than that. Someone wanted Vlad out of the
picture. “What Vlad do?”
“I am interested in knowing that as well,” Capone said. “A mistake in paperwork wouldn’t draw
the attention of the Ministry of Paranormal Affairs. There has to be more to the story than what you
were led to believe.”
“Van Helpsing,” Igorian said. “ While Upír’s men were searching the mansion, he called
Helpsing. Upír made some sort of deal with Helpsing to get Vlad out of the way so that Helpsing could
take over the Phanta Seaside docks and get rid of the flea-bitten dogs.” Igorian paled at Capone’s
angry growl and quickly held up his hands. “His words, not mine.”
Capone’s fist slammed down on the desk. “He actually said that Helpsing could take over my
docks?”
Béla gulped as Igorian nodded. He wasn’t so sure sharing that bit of information was in their best
interest. Capone’s nostrils were starting to flare, rage flashing in his golden eyes. Capone was pissed,
and Béla preferred to stay out of the line of fire.
He slid closer to Igorian, wondering for just a moment if he was insane for seeking protection
from his archnemesis, Iggy.
Capone gestured with his finger. The large man behind him leaned down. Capone whispered
something in his ear. The man nodded and then left the room. Capone tapped his fingers on his desk as
he returned his attention back to Béla and Igorian.
“Guido is going to double the guard as well as send out some foot soldiers to keep an eye on the
docks. I do not take well to someone trying to move in on my territory. If Helpsing and Upír think that
they can come in and take what I have worked so hard to build, they have another thing coming. No
one takes from Loupyne Capone!”
The man’s knuckles crackled as he clenched them, a pulse beating wildly in his square jaw. “No
one threatens the family.”
“Don’t you mean your family?” Igorian asked.
“They are one and the same, cafone.”
Igorian sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “You guys really do need to speak English. I
swear I’m being insulted left and right.”
Capone ignored him, sitting back and tugging at his jacket. The man appeared agitated. That was
never a good sign when it came to those in charge. Béla knew that from experience. The two
bodyguards he had offered Béla and Igorian entered the room.
Capone waved a hand toward the two hulking men. “Frank and Ken will show you were to lay
low until this mess is cleared up.”
“But we need to—” Igorian’s words were cut off when Capone raised a hand.
“While I acknowledge your need to free Vladimir Dracul, that has now fallen under my duties.
Upír and Helpsing have plotted to get Vladimir out of the picture for a reason. And an enemy of my
enemy is my friend.”
What?
“While I do not consider Vlad an enemy, he isn’t one of my favorite people. But, I will call in a
few favors and have your count released.”
“What’s the catch?” Igorian asked.
“The count now owes me.” The gleam of triumph in Capone’s eyes made Béla’s skin crawl. He
didn’t like Vlad owing anyone, but knew he and Igorian had no choice. They couldn’t storm into the
Ministry on their own. They needed help.
Even if that help was in the form of a werewolf mob boss.
“In order to ensure my debt to the count is repaid, the two of you will be under heavy guard.”
Capone snapped his fingers, and Frank and Ken moved forward. “Take them to the Boom-Boom
Room, but don’t let anyone touch them.”
“What the hell is a Boom-Boom Room?” Igorian asked, but Capone once again ignored the man.
The mob boss stood and exited the room, leaving them with the Stein brothers.
“I just hope the guy wasn’t referring to dynamite,” Igorian grumbled as the two of them stood,
following their bodyguards into the club.
Béla shrank back when the music pierced his ears. He’d never heard anything so loud before.
There were people on the dance floors that looked like any sane person’s nightmare. The dark and
strange people gyrated to the music, some of the bodies painted in odd colors.
This was not a place Béla would have visited willingly.
The people here scared him.
One of the bodyguards unclipped a velvet rope and waved for Igorian and Béla to pass through.
The other bodyguard lifted a thick, crimson curtain to one side. Igorian squeaked as they entered the
room.
“Capone regulated us to a damn strip club?” Igorian shouted the words as his nostrils started
flapping.
One of the bodyguards shrugged. “It’s the last place anyone would look for Count Vladimir
Dracul’s mate.”
The man had a point. Béla wouldn’t be caught dead in a room like this. There were men on stage,
humping poles and strutting around half-naked. The men sitting beyond the stages were calling out
illicit things with lust burning in their eyes.
Béla was ready to bolt toward the door, but Igorian grabbed him and pulled him over to a corner
booth. Béla’s jaw dropped when a half-naked man climbed onto another guy’s lap and started twisting
his hips, reaching for the seated man’s groin.
He quickly turned away.
Capone couldn’t rescue Vlad soon enough.
Chapter 11
Vlad growled low under his breath as he paced the small confines of the interrogation room. He
had been brought straight to the headquarters of the Ministry of Paranormal Affairs and placed in a
room by himself.
He hadn’t seen another living soul since the door had closed and locked behind him, not a guard,
not a delegate, not even a janitor. Not a single person had peeked into the room. Vlad was starting to
wonder if he was going to be let out of the drably decorated room at all.
Good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic.
Escaping wasn’t an option either. The guard that had locked him in had taken great delight in
informing Vlad that the damn room was made especially for vampires. Pipes filled with holy water
were built right into the cement walls. If Vlad tried to break through the wall, he’d get doused, and he
wouldn’t walk away undamaged.
To make matters worse, the guard had pointed out the small barrels in the ceiling, each one laced
with a garlic infusion. If he even attempted to escape, small projectiles would shoot out and imbed in
his skin, filling him with garlic. He would swell up like a balloon before exploding.
Not a pretty prospect.
There were no windows in the room so getting out that way wasn’t an option. He’d fry to a crisp
within minutes if he tried anyway. As old as he was, Vlad could handle the sunlight for small amounts
of time, but only in the early morning hours or at dusk. Never in the middle of the day.
The only way in or out of the room was through the door. Vlad was pretty much stuck where he
was until they either let him go or came for him.
Vlad knew what he was voting for.
He was going out of his mind wondering what had happened to Béla. If Upír got his grimy little
hands on Béla, Vlad had no doubt he would never see his mate again. Upír would secret Béla away
somewhere that he could never be found.
Vlad just prayed that Igorian had gotten to Béla in time and hid him somewhere. And he hoped
Béla kept his promise and followed Igorian. Vlad knew the two men didn’t get along that well. Hell,
they fought like cats and dogs. But the situation they were in called for their mutual cooperation.
Vlad groaned as he dropped his head into his hands as every fight the two men had been involved
in played over in his head. Igorian and Béla were water and dirt. Mix them together and they made
mud.
They were doomed.
Vlad turned his head slightly when the door finally opened. He kept his surprise concealed when
Slovak Upír waltzed into the room like he owned the place. The count’s smugness knew no bounds.
The man’s expression said he had no intention of releasing Vlad anytime soon.
“What is the meaning of this?” Being at someone else’s mercy did not sit well with Vlad. His
anger was mounting, and he was moments away from putting Upír through one of those concrete
walls, holy water or not.
Vlad just hoped the man wasn’t here to gloat about reclaiming his blood donor. He wouldn’t be
responsible for his actions if the guy had taken Béla. Upír leaned against one of the walls, arms
crossed over his chest, staring at Vlad from behind black lenses.
“Do you know why I had you brought here?” he asked.
Vlad gave a tight smile. He was a little confused how Upír had arranged to have him brought to
the Ministry, not why. He knew exactly why. He just wasn’t going to show it. “Because you weren’t
man enough to confront me on your own?”
Upír stiffened just a little, then relaxed as if he thought he had the upper hand. He might, for the
moment, but that wouldn’t last. “You have something of mine, Dracul, and I want it back.”
Vlad shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and gave a slight shrug. “I have no idea what
you are talking about.”
Upír sighed roughly. “I can keep you here for as long as it takes for you to tell me where my
blood donor is.”
Vlad was starting to suspect there was more to Béla than met the eye. Why would a powerful
count go through all this for a simple donor? It didn’t make any sense to him. There were plenty of
humans for sale on the black market.
Why was Upír fixated on Béla?
Vlad wanted to ask, but that would tip his hand, and keeping Béla safe was more important than
his curiosity.
Upír removed the file that had been tucked under his arm, opening it before he said, “You
forfeited all three of your previous donors and had your assistant file just one person.” Upír glanced
up at him. “Just one, Count Dracul? What piques my curiosity is that a well-established, much-feared
vampire as yourself would only need one donor.” Upír closed the file and then pointed the slim folder
at Vlad. “When your compound was searched, no such donor was found.”
Vlad kept his stance casual even as his heart leapt in his chest. “You know as well as I do that
donors are free to come and go. I’m not surprised you found no one.” He was pissed off that Upír had
his home searched. But if Upír was standing here trying to find out where his blood donor was, that
meant Béla had escaped.
Vlad’s lip curved into a wicked grin.
“What the hell is so funny?” Upír’s pale face became mottled with anger. “Do you think it
humorous that I can keep you here against your will?”
Removing one hand from his trousers, Vlad ran his thumb and index finger over his chin. “What
I find quite amusing is that you have resorted to kidnapping to find one insignificant donor. Tell me,
Upír, are you not able to keep a leash on your pets?”
It galled him to refer to Béla as a pet, but he had to keep up the pretenses. Giving the slightest
hint that Vlad had mated Béla wouldn’t be wise, at least until they had a formal mating ceremony.
Only then would Béla be safe
Upír gave him a twisted smile. “You won’t bait me, Dracul.”
“And you won’t get anything out of me,” he returned. “I have nothing to hide and I haven’t a clue
where your donor is.” It wasn’t a total lie. Béla was no longer Upír’s donor.
Upír’s tone was filled with rage. “Fine, rot in here for all I care.”
The door slammed shut.
Vlad laughed to himself. Béla was safe.
Good.
He stayed in that room for what felt like hours before the door swung open again. Vlad was ready
to punch the son of a bitch who came through the door. He was tired of these games. But it wasn’t
Upír who walked in.
It was Wylde Fleur, one of the Ministry’s attorneys. Vlad recognized him because they had done
business together before. “You are free to go, Count Dracul.”
Was this some sort of trick? Vlad no sooner trusted the fae than he did any other species. “What
is going on, Mr. Fleur?”
The elf smoothed his hand down the front of his tailored suit while piercing Vlad with his
amethyst eyes. “A favor has been called in. You’ll receive further instructions once you pick up your
assistant at the Dockside Club.”
Capone owned that club, which meant Igorian had done exactly as Vlad had instructed. Vlad
could barely breathe as relief filled him. Capone owed him. While they weren’t exactly bosom
buddies, the man would honor that favor and keep Béla and Igorian safe.
“I wouldn’t linger around, Count Dracul,” Mr. Fleur said, his eyes flickering toward the door.
“Once Slovak Upír finds out that you’ve been released, things are going to get ugly.”
Vlad didn’t have to be told twice. He headed out of the room and down the stairs to the first
floor, not even bothering to take the elevator. He walked right through the large, open foyer, bounded
down the marble steps, and pushed through the main doors, heading out into the night.
It felt good to be free.
Vlad inhaled the fresh night air and then wasted no time finding a cab and making his way to
Dockside Club. There were two bouncers at the door when he arrived, but neither said a word as Vlad
walked right past them and into the large warehouse type building.
The music was in-your-face loud, the scents a combination of sweat, blood, drugs, and sex. Vlad
gritted his teeth at the thought of his sweet Béla being in this place. The bartender jerked his chin
toward the back of the club, and Vlad felt his anger explode.
Capone had regulated Béla and Igorian to the Boom-Boom Room? It was a private, VIP-only
portion of the night club that catered to men who wished for more than just a lap dance or a show. For
the right price, there were private rooms behind the stage where any person could slate their lust for
just about anything, not all of it legal.
Vlad moved across the large room in one fluid movement, people moving out of his way as if
they were afraid he would mow them over. The large man sitting on the barstool at the entrance to the
exclusive club didn’t even bat an eyelash when Vlad parted the thick curtains that separated the strip
club from the rest of the place and stepped inside.
What the hell?
To Vlad’s utter shock, he spotted Igorian and Béla across the room, by one of the back booths…
dancing. Béla and Igorian were bumping hips while Béla’s arms swung around wildly, his head tilted
up as if he was sunbathing and not dancing. Vlad stood there frozen, watching his mate’s slim body
move in ways that had Vlad growing hard in one breath.
Neither man was wearing a shirt, both covered in a layer of sweat. The colorful lights throughout
the dance hall flashed off Béla’s glistening skin, giving it a sheen that begged to be licked off. Béla
was flushed, but he was wearing a wide smile on his face, as if he were truly enjoying himself.
There were five empty glasses on the table. Two held remnants of something red. Igorian must
have indulged in a blood cocktail. But what had been in the other three glasses?
Vlad crossed the room, but was stopped by two large werewolf shifters.
“Fuck off,” the one on the right said.
“Or die.” The one on the left grinned, showing off his sharp canines. “Painfully.”
Vlad started to growl until he heard Béla’s sweet voice.
“Vlad!” Béla said, his eyes sparkling when he spotted Vlad. “I dance!”
As angry as he was that these two men were preventing him from getting to his mate, Vlad
couldn’t help but smile at the exuberance on Béla’s gorgeous face. “And you dance beautifully, Béla.”
“You’re Vlad?” one of the wolves asked.
Vlad nodded. How could he be mad at either wolf when they were protecting the two people Vlad
cared about the most? “I’ve come to collect my donor and assistant.” He was careful not to call Béla
his mate. That was something Vlad wasn’t ready to let the world know about just yet. He was hoping
to wait until the mating ceremony.
“You have to see the big boss first,” the one on the right said. “He insists.”
Igorian swiveled his hips and laughed. “I’ll keep an eye on Hissy.”
But who in the hell was going to keep an eye on Igorian? The man definitely had a cocktail
because his normally pale skin was flushed and his pupils were slightly dilated. When Vlad gazed into
Béla’s eyes, he saw that his mate was inebriated as well.
Fucking peachy.
Vlad growled as he turned on his heel and headed toward Capone’s office. He was going to have
a word with Béla about drinking. The man’s blood was going to taste like alcohol now. Vlad liked a
good stiff drink as much as the next guy, but he preferred the sweet taste of Béla’s blood unpolluted
with other stuff.
The guard at the door held up a hand. “I’ll let Capone know you’re here.”
Vlad tapped his foot impatiently as the guard walked inside the office and then closed the door
behind him. He couldn’t believe that Béla and Igorian had gotten drunk. What had they been thinking?
Igorian needed to keep a vigilant eye on Béla, not party with the guy.
The door opened, and the guard stepped aside. Vlad walked in to see Capone sitting in his
horribly decorated office. Maybe he’d send Igorian over to help spruce up the place. Anything had to
be better than this. It looked like Capone had decorated his office out of a Dumpster.
“Have a seat.” Capone waved to the red-and-green checkered chair.
Vlad grimaced as he sat down in the ugly ass chair, crossing one leg over the other, stippling his
fingers together. “I want to thank you for taking care of my family, Capone. Consider your favor
repaid in full.”
Capone waved a hand at him. “Was nothing. I owed you the favor.”
Yes, but now Vlad owed Capone for getting him out of the Ministry. Being in Capone’s pocket
was not someplace Vlad wanted to be. There was no telling what favor the wolf would ask for in
return.
“And it was still appreciated.” Vlad gave a slight bow of the head.
Capone sat back, straightening his grey pinstriped suit jacket. “That’s what friends do, right?”
They were not friends, which only told Vlad the man was going to lay a doozy of a favor on him.
Vlad gave another slight nod, silently acknowledging that he owed the mob boss a favor. He knew he
had no other choice.
“How can I help?” he asked.
“I tell you what.” Capone rubbed his jeweled fingers across his chin as he pinned Vlad with a
contemplating stare. “When I need a favor, I’ll come see you.”
“Fair enough,” Vlad replied.
The boss gave Vlad a wicked smile. “Then go collect your mate and assistant.”
Damn. If Capone knew that Béla was his mate, that meant Igorian had to convince the guy for
help.
Capone winked at him. “Don’t worry. No one knows Béla’s relationship to you except me.”
Which meant Vlad had just fallen deeper into the man’s pocket. He gave his cordial good-bye
before heading back to the strip club. Only Béla and Igorian were no longer dancing. The two were
slumped over in the red leather booth, lightly snoring.
“I’m Frank, and this is my brother Ken,” one of the wolves who had been guarding Béla and
Igorian said. “We’re the Stein brothers, and Capone has assigned us to watch over the two.” He
chucked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the two passed-out men.
Capone had said nothing to him about bodyguards, but Vlad wasn’t about to go back into the
man’s office and ask. He’d had enough for one night. He just wanted to go home and cuddle in bed
with his mate.
Pulling Béla from the booth, Vlad cradled the man in his arms. He chuckled as he watched Frank
unceremoniously scoop Igorian up and toss the sleeping vampire over his shoulder like a sack of
potatoes.
A car was waiting for them outside the club, complete with tinted windows. When everyone was
in, the driver drove them back to Vlad’s compound. Vlad was glad to see the gates of his estate closed
when they arrived. Hopefully, there were no surprises waiting for them inside.
Vlad wouldn’t put anything past Upír.
Once through the main gate and up the driveway, the car came to a stop in front of the large
stone steps leading into the mansion. The main doors opened before Vlad even climbed out of the car,
Butler standing there in his pristine suit, not a wrinkle on him.
Vlad glanced at the two bodyguards as he climbed the steps. “I don’t want any visitors right
now.”
Ken nodded. “No one from the Ministry is allowed in, gotcha.”
“And you don’t want Van Helpsing or Slovak Upír anywhere on the estate either,” Frank added.
The two wolves were very perceptive. This just might work to Vlad’s advantage. Though he
didn’t like any of Capone’s men becoming privy to his private life, Vlad needed to concentrate on
Béla. That meant he needed someone to guard the house.
What better protection than two werewolves?
“Igorian’s room is the last door on the left,” Vlad said to the Stein brothers before he entered his
own suite and walked through to the bedroom, gently placing Béla on the bed. Béla sighed softly and
turned to snuggle down into the covers, his hands folded under one cheek.
Had anyone ever been more stunning, awake or asleep?
Vlad knew he was mesmerized by the small slip of a human but he was finding he no longer
cared. Béla made him happy, plain and simple.
He turned when there was a knock on the door. Vlad covered Béla up and then walked back into
the main room, carefully closing the bedroom door behind him before going to see who it was. Béla
was going to need his rest after the night he’d had.
Frank was standing on the other side, a shit-eating grin on his face. “There’s a coffin in Iggy’s
room.”
Iggy? Since when did… Vlad rolled his eyes. “Yes, the younger or newly converted vampires
sleep in coffins. I would appreciate you keeping that to yourself.”
Frank’s expression turned serious. “Ken and I are working for you until Capone says otherwise.
I’m not a chiacchierone and neither is my brother. What goes on in your house is none of our
business. As long as no one tries to hurt Béla or Iggy, all is good.”
When Vlad gave the man a confused expression, Frank chuckled. “It means chatterbox.”
Ken appeared at Frank’s side. “We’ll do a perimeter sweep and then lock the place down.”
“I do have others who live here,” Vlad pointed out. “Not all of my coven resides under one roof,
but many do.”
“Then I’ll need a list of names of those allowed to come and go,” Frank said. “Sorry, Count
Dracul, but keeping Béla and Iggy safe is our top priority.”
Vlad nodded. “Very well. When Iggy wakes, he’ll supply you with that list.”
Ken and Frank glanced at each other, and Vlad would swear they were having some sort of
private communication. But just that quickly, they turned their heads and looked at Vlad. “We’ll be
checking the place over if you need us.”
“Very well.” Vlad closed the door, wondering if having those two here was a blessing or if he
had just invited trouble into his home.
Chapter 12
Béla groaned and grabbed his head before it exploded. He had suffered beatings that didn’t hurt
this bad. He rolled, pressing his face into his pillow, hoping the horribly bright light in the ceiling
would go away.
Rolling just made his stomach rebel.
Béla slapped a hand over his mouth as he sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, hopping
down and racing toward the bathroom. He made it just in time to drop to his knees before whatever
concoction of death he had swallowed the night before came back up. Béla was going to die. He just
knew it.
“How’s the head?”
“Ouch.” Béla covered his ears. Vlad’s deep amused chuckled rumbled through the bathroom like
a freight train in a tunnel. “No shout.”
“Here, love, drink this.” Vlad squatted down in front of Béla and held a glass out to him. “It will
make you feel better.”
Béla was pretty sure only death would make him feel better, but if Vlad said… Béla’s stomach
started to roll again as a horrible stench wafted up to his nose. He frowned as he stared down into the
glass of brown, lumpy sludge.
“You feed Béla poop?”
“No.” Vlad chuckled again. “It’s a cure for your hangover. There is no poop in it.”
Could have fooled Béla.
“Hangover?” Is that what they called this living death?
“A hangover is what happens to beautiful Bélas that drink too much alcohol while dancing their
sexy little assess off.”
Béla’s frown deepened as he looked up at Vlad. “You have more than one Béla?”
“Do I have more than—No!” Vlad’s lips thinned. “What would make you think that?”
“You said Bélas, not Béla.” Béla held up two fingers. “That more than one.”
“Just drink the cure, Béla.”
Béla sniffed at the contents of the glass and then groaned, holding the sludge out and away from
his face. “Smell bad.”
“I know, love, but you need to drink it.”
“Don’t wanna.”
Vlad chuckled again, and Béla hated him for it. “If you drink it all down, I’ll wash your hair for
you.”
Béla blinked up at Vlad. Seriously? The big bad coven leader would wash his hair if he drank the
liquid poop cure? Béla pinched his nose with his fingers and then tilted the glass up to his lips and
swallowed down the entire disgusting mess.
For a moment, he was afraid it would all come back up as his stomach rolled and clenched then
rolled some more. Béla set the glass down and held his hand over his mouth, praying he didn’t throw
up in front of Vlad.
That was not how he wanted his handsome vampire to see him.
When his stomach finally started to settle, Béla lowered his hand and glared up at Vlad. “Blood
taste like poop now.”
“No, love, your blood will taste just as sweet as it always does in just a little while. It takes a few
minutes for the cure to kick in and then you’ll see. You will begin to feel better in no time.”
Béla groaned and pressed his head against Vlad’s thigh. “Never feel good again.”
Vlad’s fingers threaded through Béla’s hair, actually making him feel a little better. “Igorian is
just as sick as you are.”
“Iggy evil,” Béla growled. “Drinking fun my ass.” Pulling from Vlad’s lap, Béla pointed to the
shower. “Need to get clean.”
Vlad nodded and stood, leaving Béla to get undressed. He turned the water on and stepped under
the warm spray, sighing at how good it felt. Béla heard a noise behind him and turned.
It was Vlad, and he was completely naked, and so damn hard that the head of his cock was an
angry purple color. Béla stood there, mesmerized by the hard, sinewy muscles that encased Vlad’s
thighs. There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on the man’s body.
His eyes slowly began to rise, taking in the slim waist, the very erotic V on either side of the
man’s groin, and an abdomen that proudly displayed not a six-pack, but eight very gorgeous muscles.
Vlad stood as if he prided himself on his well-honed body, shamelessly displaying his male
physique for Béla to take in.
“Do you need help?” Vlad asked as his large hand slid down his stomach, and his red eyes
lowered until he was staring directly at Béla’s full-blown erection.
“Y–yes,” Béla admitted as he licked his lower lip. There was a passionate gleam in Vlad’s dark-
red eyes that told Béla exactly what the man was thinking. Or at least what he wanted.
Vlad stepped into the shower, closing the stall door behind him. He pulled Béla close, turning
him away from the spray. “Any time you want me, all you have to do is touch me.”
Béla’s nod was slow as he shivered. He gazed at Vlad’s mouth, taking in those beautifully shaped
lips, full enough to tempt but with a hard edge.
Vlad slid his tongue up Béla’s ear, slowly moving him back, trapping Béla against the shower
wall, one of Vlad’s hands on either side of his head. The liquid shift of muscle made Béla’s knees
weak.
“My cock is yours to have, whenever or wherever you want to feel it.” Béla groaned at the
thickness he heard in Vlad’s voice. He was exquisitely aware of every inch of skin-to-skin contact.
Every nerve ending quivered in need so deep it hurt.
“Make love to me, Vlad.” Béla slid his arms around Vlad’s wet shoulders, letting his fingers play
in the man’s short hair. Vlad nuzzled his neck, one of his hands lowering to tweak and pull at Béla’s
nipple.
Desire swept through Béla, his cock becoming impossibly harder for Vlad. He hissed when he
felt the brush of wet heat against his nipple. His body was suddenly melting in the throes of sensual
pleasure as the water continued to beat down on Vlad’s back.
Vlad’s hand moved lower, his lithe and powerful fingers wrapping around Béla’s cock.
He hissed at how good Vlad’s hand felt stroking his shaft, bringing him close even with only a
hand job. The man had wonderful, glorious hands, and he knew how to use them.
Vlad gave one last tug before releasing Béla’s pulsating flesh. “Wrap your legs around me, Béla.
I want to feel you riding my cock.”
Béla jumped up, Vlad caught him around his sides, steadying him as Béla wrapped his legs
around Vlad’s muscled waist. He instantly felt the head of Vlad’s cock tapping at his hole. “Want you
in me.”
Vlad’s undiluted laughter was rich and warm. “You have no patience, my beautiful Béla.”
Béla bit his lower lip as Vlad reached behind him and guided the head of his cock into Béla’s
body. Béla could barely breathe through the sensations, his body burning with heat as a soft scream
escaped when Vlad started to push inside. Vlad began to tease Béla’s ear with his tongue as he let
Béla’s body become accustomed to the invasion.
“Do you feel it, Béla?” Vlad’s voice was rough, as if unnamed emotions were trying to break
free.
“Your cock? Yes.”
Vlad shook his head, burying his face deeper into Béla’s neck. “No, the connection. Do you feel
it trying to pull us under, trying to consume us?”
Béla felt it. He just hadn’t known what it was. The need to be in Vlad’s arms was a constant now.
The need to feel the man’s lips, his voice, or his hands made Béla’s skin ache all the time.
“Yes,” he whispered.
Vlad pulled Béla closer, thrusting deep inside his body, reminding Béla that Vlad was not a small
man. His bottom ached, but it was a damn good ache that Béla never wanted to stop. Béla was amazed
at the tendons on Vlad’s neck standing out in sharp relief.
Béla tightened his legs around Vlad, pressing his heels into the alternately flexing and relaxing
buttocks to impale himself deeper onto his mate’s cock.
“Vlad.” Béla held on tighter as the man picked up his pace, sending Béla to the edge in a heated
rush, his body burning alive for the man holding him, loving him. “Love Vlad.”
Vlad’s movements faltered, and then he fucked Béla to within an inch of his life. “I love you,
too, Béla.” As Vlad surged forward, he pushed Béla down onto his cock. Within seconds Béla was
crying out his mate’s name, his seed spilling between their bodies.
Vlad wasn’t too far behind. A few more well-placed thrusts and he was growling out his release,
his fangs sinking deep into Béla’s neck. It was a strange how Béla no longer despised the act of a
vampire drinking from him.
Just as long as it was Vlad.
Vlad released him, licking at Béla’s neck.
Béla laughed. “Tickles.”
“What, this?” Vlad licked a long path from his shoulder to his neck.
Béla laughed louder. “Yes, that.”
Vlad gave him a quick kiss and then pulled his flaccid cock free. “We better get a shower before
the water turns cold.” He set Béla on his feet, grabbed a washcloth, and began to scrub Béla down.
“Open.”
Béla opened his legs, the cloth skimming over his aching hole and then down around his balls.
He should be embarrassed, but he wasn’t.
Once Vlad was done with Béla, he washed up quickly and then turned the water off, stepping out
of the tub. He held a towel out for Béla.
When he was wrapped in the towel, Vlad carried Béla to bed. Now this was something Béla could
get real used to. Béla closed his eyes, enjoying how Vlad was stroking his hair. He felt himself drifting
to sleep when Vlad’s calm, low tone filled the bathroom.
“Why is Upír trying so hard to get you back?”
Béla stiffened, pulling back from Vlad’s arms. Vlad gave him a strange look that Béla couldn’t
define. A trickle of sweat ran down his back, and Béla felt like he was going to be sick all over again.
“Béla?”
Béla curled his fingers in before tucking them in his lap. He knew he would make Vlad upset if
he didn’t give the vampire an answer. After all, Upír had come into Vlad’s home and had the guy
hauled away. Vlad had gone through a lot of trouble to keep Béla.
The man deserved an answer.
Béla was just too frightened to give one.
“Béla.” Vlad’s voice was sterner this time, more dominant. “I want an answer.”
“Upír not want Béla.” At least, Béla hoped that Upír didn’t want him. “Not like Vlad want Béla.”
At least, Béla hoped Vlad still wanted him.
“Then why is he doing this?” Vlad asked. “Upír has to know that he could be sanctioned by the
Ministry of Paranormal Affairs for having an undocumented donor. There has to be something you’re
not telling me.”
Béla quaked as he glanced up, praying that he still had a home when he told Vlad what he had
done. “Béla bad,” he whispered. “Béla steal from Upír.”
Vlad stared for a moment as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, and then his eyes
slowly slid closed. “Bloody hell.”
Béla’s heart pounded painfully in his chest as he waited for his judgment. Either Vlad would let
him slide on being bad or the man would kick him to the curb. Béla was terrified that the haven he had
found with his vampire would disappear because he took something that didn’t belong to him.
“Béla scared,” he murmured. “Hungry. Took shiny stick to trade for food.”
Vlad’s eyes popped open. “Shiny stick?”
Béla nodded slowly. “Was on Upír’s desk.”
Béla reared back when Vlad suddenly squatted down in front of him, the man grabbing his face.
“Was it about this long?” Vlad made a small space between his finger and thumb. “And this wide?”
He made another small space. This was even tinier than the first one.
“Yes.” Béla nodded again. “Small shiny stick.”
Hadn’t he just said that?
“Where, Béla?” The tremor in Vlad’s voice scared Béla more than anything else could. Count
Vladimir Dracul was a legend in the paranormal world. People didn’t cross him and live. For Vlad to
suddenly be scared was more terrifying than facing off against Upír. “Where is it, Béla? What did you
do with it?”
“In barn,” Béla replied. “Hear noise. Hide shiny stick.”
“Show me.” Vlad bounded to his feet and started out of the bathroom, dragging Béla behind him.
“Now?” Béla cried out as stumbled after the swift vampire.
“I need to see that shiny stick, Béla,” Vlad replied. “It’s very important.”
“Okay.” If Vlad wanted the shiny stick, he could have it, but… “Clothes first?” Vlad stopped and
turned so fast that Béla barreled right into his chest. “Ooph.”
“Careful, Béla.”
Béla frowned. “You stop first.”
Vlad grinned. “So I did.”
“Clothes?”
“Yes, of course.” Vlad hurried over to his dressing room. Béla peeked around the corner when he
heard drawers opening and closing. He had never ventured into Vlad’s dressing room before. It had
always seemed too invasive.
Béla’s eyes widened when he spotted something tucked into the far corner of the room. “You
keep coffin in closet?”
“What?” Vlad glanced up from where he was pulling his pants on. He turned and looked in the
direction Béla was looking. A soft chuckle came from the tall man when he glanced back. “Older
vampires, such as myself, no longer need to sleep in coffins. We are strong enough to sleep in a real
bed.”
“Why keep?” Béla asked as he ventured further into the room. It didn’t seem to make a whole lot
of sense to keep something if he wasn’t going to ever use it again. It just took up space.
“I still keep it around in case I’m injured. I heal faster in my coffin.” Vlad walked over and lifted
the lid on the ornate wooden coffin. He reached in with his hand, coming back with a handful of dark,
rich soil. “To truly get a healing rest, a vampire has to sleep with a bit of the soil from his birthplace
under his bed. I keep mine in a box under the bed.”
Béla nodded, remembering the chest of dirt he had found under the bed. “Saw box.”
“I have more layered under the foundation of the mansion just in case I need it.”
“That good?”
“That is very good.” Vlad dropped the dirt back into the coffin and closed the lid before walking
back over to hand Béla a stack of clothes. “We need to take you clothes shopping. You can’t keep
wearing Igorian’s clothes.”
Béla growled as he took the clothes and started pulling them on. “Igorian bad.”
Vlad’s light laughter filled the dressing room. “He’s not bad, Béla. He got just as drunk as you
did, and you could have said no at any time. You didn’t have to accept the drinks he kept getting you.”
“He vampire.”
“True.”
“No disobey. Béla good.”
“Oh sweet Jesus.” Vlad palmed his face before dropping both hands to his hips and staring at
Béla. “Béla, love, you are my mate. Igorian doesn’t get to tell you what to do. No vampire does. You
are not a slave or a blood donor or a pet. You are the mate of Count Vladimir Dracul.”
“You tell Béla what to do.”
A smirk curved Vlad’s luscious lips. “That’s because I am the count. I tell everyone what to do.”
Chapter 13
Vlad heard Béla’s scream as the room beyond the one they were in exploded, the walls shaking
as something slammed into the house. Vlad dove across the room and tackled Béla, taking the man to
the hard floor. He quickly crawled over the top of Béla, covering his mate with his larger body.
“I’ve got you, Béla,” Vlad shouted as the man shuddered beneath him, frightened sobs shaking
his small frame. He had no idea what had happened, but it was obvious that they were under attack of
some sort.
That hadn’t been a normal explosion.
Vlad cringed when he felt another explosion hit the mansion and then another, the house shaking
each time. When the dust finally seemed to settle, Vlad cautiously raised his head and glanced around.
Several of the drawers in his built-in dresser had fallen out, clothes spilling all over the floor.
The door on the dressing room hung off its hinges, dangling perilously. Vlad wasn’t sure what was left
of the bedroom. All he could see was smoke.
Worried that the house might be on fire, Vlad climbed to his feet, pulling Béla up with him. He
wrapped one arm around Béla’s waist and hurried him from the dressing room. Béla started coughing
as they stepped over broken ceiling tiles and wooden beams to get to the bedroom door.
The main room was in a little better shape. The smoke wasn’t quite as thick, and there was a
whole lot less damage.
Vlad glanced over his shoulder as he pushed Béla into the room ahead of him. Shock rolled
through him when he saw the giant hole in his bedroom wall. He could see the stars twinkling in the
night sky beyond the wall.
He could also see a man standing down in the yard with an antitank rocket launcher.
“Run!” Vlad shouted when the man raised the bazooka and aimed it at the second-floor bedroom.
He made sure he kept his body between Béla and the rocket as they ran for the door. Vlad heard the
explosion just as they cleared the doorframe.
He grabbed Béla and wrapped himself around his mate as they went down, hitting the floor
before crashing into the far wall. Vlad laid there in a daze, his heart pounding frantically in his chest,
his head throbbing from where he had hit it on the floor molding.
“Count Dracul!”
Vlad blinked as he was rolled over onto his back. He started to growl when Béla was pulled from
his arms until he realized that his mate was awake and reaching back for him. “I’m okay, Béla.”
Vlad smiled his thanks when Frank helped him sit up. He opened his arms when Béla dove at
him, cuddling his mate close to his chest. “Is anyone hurt?” he asked as he glanced from Frank to Ken.
“Did you catch the idiot shooting at the house?”
Frank glanced at Ken, something silent passing between them for a moment before he glanced
back at Vlad. “You know what happened?”
Vlad waved his hand toward his smoking quarters. “There’s a maniac out there with a fucking
bazooka.”
Frank’s eyes twinkled. “If I catch him, can I keep the bazooka?”
“Uh, yes, I guess.” Frank was an odd one. Vlad couldn’t help but wonder if the same could be
said for the man’s twin brother. “Just make sure whoever it is doesn’t destroy any more of my house.
They almost killed me and Béla as it was.”
“Yes!” Frank jumped up, pumping his fist into the air as he started running down the hallway
toward the main staircase.
Ken just chuckled as he stood, gesturing after his brother with his thumb. “He doesn’t have a
bazooka in his collection yet. He’s always wanted one.”
Vlad took the hand Ken held out to him, climbing to his feet without releasing Béla. As they
started down the hallway, Igorian came barreling out of his bedroom, pulling a neon-pink polo shirt
over his head.
“Oh, hey.” Igorian stumbled to a stop, his eyes darting around when he saw everyone standing
there. “I thought I heard a noise.”
Vlad seriously wanted to ask Igorian about the hickey he could see on the vampire’s throat, but
the loud retort of a gun being shot outside sent Ken running at full speed down the stairs. Vlad shoved
Béla into Igorian’s arms.
“Go to my office,” he shouted before disseminating. He reappeared in the grand foyer just a Ken
reached the bottom step.
“Neat trick,” Ken said before running out the front door.
Vlad ran out the door, reaching the front steps of the mansion just as Frank walked up the
driveway leading another man by a rope, this one with his hands tied behind his back. Frank had the
bazooka resting on his shoulder.
“Look what I found.”
“A bazooka?” It was just a guess.
“Naw.” Frank kicked the man in front of him in the ass. The man stumbled forward and fell to
his knees. “A jamook with a bazooka.”
“I am not a jamook, you flea-bitten mongrel!”
Vlad’s jaw dropped in shock when Slovak Upír raised his head to glare at Frank. “You tried to
kill us.”
Upír’s head snapped around, his eyes beady little slits of anger and hatred. “And I would have
too if this damn dog hadn’t interfered.”
Frank reached down and smacked Upír upside of his head. “Wolf, testa di cazzo, not dog.”
“I will see you all hang for this!” Upír shouted, his voice filled with more indignation than a man
should have when facing his possible beheading. Upír didn’t seem to understand that he had attacked
the home of another coven leader and tried to kill him. Not even the Ministry of Paranormal Affairs
could get him out of this one.
“Bring him inside.”
Vlad didn’t wait to see if his order would be followed. He was too intent on getting back inside
the house and getting to his mate. Vlad really didn’t want Béla to find out Upír was there from anyone
except him. He needed to be there to support Béla, protect him.
He just needed Béla in his arms again.
Vlad found Béla curled up in the chair behind his desk when he reached his office, his knees
pulled up to his chest. Igorian was pacing, his hands clenched at his sides. The moment he stepped into
the office, Igorian tensed and spun, issuing a low hiss as he flexed his claws.
“Vlad!” Béla was up and out of the chair, running around the desk to throw himself into Vlad’s
arms. Vlad caught him, burying his face in Béla’s neck and just breathing in his mate’s sweet scent.
Vlad lifted his head after a calming moment and looked across to his assistant. “Thank you,
Igorian.”
“Ah.” Igorian waved a hand. “You might as well call me Iggy. The name is kind of growing on
me.”
Vlad chuckled and loosened his grip on Béla so he could look down at him. “Béla, Slovak Upír is
here.”
“No!” Béla started to struggle.
“Sshhh, little one. I won’t let him get to you. I promise. In fact, Frank has him all tied up. He
can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
Béla stilled. “Vlad no lie?”
Vlad smiled as he cupped Béla’s face between his hands, not taking offense at the man’s words.
“I would never lie to you, Béla.”
“Where?” Béla asked.
“They are probably holding Upír in the foyer at the moment. I need to call the Ministry and have
them send someone to pick him up.”
“No Ministry,” Béla snapped. “Ministry take Vlad.”
“Not this time, Béla,” Vlad said. “Upír came into my territory and tried to kill me. That’s against
our laws. He was caught red handed with a bazooka. There’s no way—”
Béla frowned. “What bazooka?”
“Big boom,” Igorian supplied as he threw his hands out and made sound effects with his mouth
to imitate an explosion.
“No like big boom.” His frown deepened even more. “No like little boom either. Head still hurt.”
“I know, love.” Vlad rubbed his hand over Béla’s short hair, smiling when the man leaned into it.
It seemed Béla needed his touch just as much as he needed to touch Béla. “Béla, we still need the
shiny stick.”
“Okay.” Béla sighed. “I get.”
“No!” Vlad rubbed his hand down his face when Béla jumped and stared at him with wide
frightened eyes. “No,” he said a little quieter. “I don’t want you out of my sight until Upír is safely
locked behind bars of holy water.”
“Need shiny stick,” Béla insisted.
“Um.” Igorian waved his hand. “Excuse my ignorance but what is a shiny stick?”
Vlad had to admit it sounded weird, and he could be totally wrong about what he suspected it
was, but he didn’t think he was. “The reason Upír is trying to get Béla has nothing to do with him
being a blood donor.”
“It doesn’t?” Igorian asked, his eyebrows raised skeptically. “Then why is he after Béla? Because
it seems to me that that man has a serious hard-on for our little human.”
“When Béla was escaping, he stole a shiny metal stick off of Upír’s desk, one about this size.”
Vlad made a measurement with his fingers, watching as dawning realization spread over Igorian’s
face.
“He stole a thumb drive,” Igorian whispered in wonder, staring at Béla with a whole new respect
shining in his red eyes.
“I believe so, yes.”
“Where is it?”
“Béla hid it in the stables.”
“Our stables?” Igorian asked.
Béla and Vlad both nodded.
“Well, hot damn, let’s go get it.” Igorian started for the door.
“Not so fast, Iggy,” Vlad said sternly. “Neither of you are going anywhere without bodyguards.
It’s too damn dangerous.”
“Fine.” Igorian rolled his eyes. “We’ll take Frik and Frak with us.”
“Did I hear our names mentioned?” Frank asked as he walked into the office, his brother right
behind him. “Boris and Butler and some guy named Cass are keeping an eye on our guest. We wanted
to make sure our charges were safe.”
“I appreciate it,” Vlad said. “Béla needs to go to the stables to retrieve a thumb drive he hid in
there. I’d appreciate it if you both accompanied him while I call the Ministry and report Upír’s actions
to them.”
“Yeah, sure,” Frank said.
“Watch him, Frank,” Vlad ordered. “If anything happens to Béla…”
Frank nodded, a seriousness in the wolf’s eyes that Vlad would not have expected from such a
happy-go-lucky type of guy. “We’ll keep him safe, Count.”
Vlad nodded, his heart trying to climb into his throat as he watched Frank and Ken Stein escort
Béla out of the office. It took every ounce of his hard-earned control not to go tearing off after his
beloved mate.
Vlad forced himself to turn away and reach for the phone, dialing the Ministry of Paranormal
Affairs. “Igorian, go check on Boris and Butler, make sure they have what they need to keep Upír
contained.”
Igorian nodded and left the room.
Vlad turned his attention back to the phone. When the switchboard at Ministry headquarters
answered, he reported the attack on his compound as well as Upír’s attempt to kill him. He was
promised that a unit would be dispatched to his estate as soon as possible.
And that was it.
Vlad hated politics, and this was why. He had no idea how long it would take for the Ministry to
send someone to get Upír, or even if they would. Upír seemed to have some sort of connection to the
Ministry that gave him special handling. More than likely, he had someone in his pocket. Not unheard
of in this day and age.
Hell, wasn’t Vlad in Capone’s pocket?
Cradling the phone, Vlad went to check on Upír. He didn’t want the count escaping. He finally
had the guy, and there was no way Vlad was going to risk his chance at ridding himself of the
headache.
Too bad he couldn’t have Helpsing here as well. That would solve most of Vlad’s problems.
“Do you think any charges you file against me will stick?” Upír shouted when Vlad entered the
salon. “I’ll have your head on the platter for this.”
Vlad sat on the side of his desk, tapping his index finger against his chin. “What piques my
curiosity is that a well-established, much-feared vampire such as yourself would do something this
careless.” Vlad gave Upír a crooked smile. “Yeah, I threw your words back at you. Not verbatim
though.”
“Here you go.” Frank walked back in with the thumb drive. Vlad was glad that Béla hadn’t come
in. He knew his mate was terrified of Upír, and he didn’t want to subject the man to Upír’s wrath.
Béla had suffered enough.
“That’s private property!” Upír shouted as he struggled to get to his feet. Frank walked over and
slapped Upír across the face.
“Settle the hell down.”
Vlad smirked as he accepted the laptop Igorian brought him.
“I hope you learned a valuable lesson here,” Igorian said as he wiggled a finger at Upír. “When
you own a bazooka, you have to use it responsibly.”
“I know I will.” Frank gave Igorian a shit-eating grin. “Maybe.”
Vlad frowned at Igorian’s strange sense of logic. Shaking his head, Vlad set the laptop on the
stand by the door and opened it, waiting for it to boot before inserting the thumb drive. When he
clicked the files open, Vlad couldn’t believe what he was reading.
“Don’t keep us waiting,” Igorian said as he bounced up and down. “Do tell. Do tell.”
“Do you remember that Ministry official who was found dead last year?” Vlad asked no one in
particular.
“Shut up!” Upír shouted. “I swear I’m going to make sure you die painfully for this!”
Frank backhanded Upír. “I thought I told you to settle down?”
Before Vlad knew what was happening, Upír broke free of his restraints and went after Frank
with a silver dagger. Vlad was ready to take the count down when Béla raced into the room, screaming
at the top of his lungs. “No hurt Franky!”
Vlad saw his life flash before his eyes when Béla jumped in front of the knife intended for the
wolf. His mate went down, crying out as Frank punched Upír so hard the man went sailing across the
room.
Red-hot rage filled Vlad. He extended his claws, intending on killing the bastard when the lights
in the room dimmed and a slow, humming vibration filled the air. Vlad had to blink a few times to
believe what he was seeing.
In walked several men, all clad in black. Their hair was the color of raven wings, their eyes
obsidian. The largest one knelt in front of Upír, and that was when Vlad saw the black band that
around the man’s right upper arm.
CROWS
Covert Regime of Warlock Specialists. They were the creatures the Ministry sent in when the
crime was so severe that death was too easy an out. Vlad felt a chill race down his spine. These men
were the paranormal boogeymen. No one escaped when CROWS came after them.
No one.
One of the men turned toward Vlad, extending his hand. His nails were long, black, and sharp.
Vlad extracted the thumb drive and dropped it into the open palm, not wanting to touch the man.
The one kneeling by Upír grabbed the count by the back of his collar, and then they were gone,
poof, nothing. Even the other men who had entered the room were nowhere in sight.
“That. Was. Some. Scary. Ass. Shit,” Igorian said as he shivered.
Vlad ignored his assistant as he hurried over to Béla. He pulled his mate into his arms before he
ripped Béla’s pant leg further, examining the wound. Vlad let out a shaky breath when he saw that the
blade had merely scraped the side of Béla’s thigh.
A mere flesh wound.
Vlad felt like he was going to pass out with relief.
Frank knelt by Béla, Ken joining him. “You were ready to sacrifice your life for mine.”
“Upír not hurt friends anymore,” Béla said as he hissed. Vlad wanted to go after Upír and kill the
man for hurting his mate. “Upír bad man.”
Frank stared down at the blood dripping down Béla’s leg. “You bled for me,” Frank said
solemnly. “I owe you a blood debt.”
Vlad inhaled sharply, knowing how rare it was for a werewolf to give a blood debt to someone. It
was the most sacred oath someone could give. Frank would die before he forwent the bond he now felt
he had with Béla.
“My brother is all I have in this world,” Ken said as he looked at Béla like he was a
representation of the second coming. “You could have died when you saved him. I owe you a blood
debt as well.”
Vlad gulped. Sweet mother of mercy.
Two blood debts.
Béla smiled and patted Frank and Ken on the sides of their faces. “No worries,” he said simply as
if he hadn’t just earned the undying loyalty of two fierce—and mob-connected—werewolves. “You
friends.”
Vlad didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead, he pulled Béla into his arms and hugged him.
“You are a marvel, little one.”
“Yes.” Béla nodded. “Béla beautiful.”
Chapter 14
Vlad glanced down at himself, wishing he could see his reflection in the mirror, feeling the
nerves in his stomach tie into heavy knots. Not only did it amaze him that he was mated, but that he
was having a ceremony in front of his entire coven to cement how he felt for Béla.
Now he fully understood what the phrase cold feet meant. Not that he would run away from Béla,
but all kinds of doubts were entering his mind. Maybe he should have foregone the ceremony and just
taken Béla on vacation.
“You look fabulous!” Igorian sang out as he stepped into Vlad’s bedroom.
Vlad nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw what his assistant was wearing. His salmon-pink
tux was bad enough, but did he have to wear a purple, pleated shirt underneath? His pant legs rose
above the man’s ankles to show off a pair of polka-dotted burnt-orange socks.
“Although I myself would have picked more vibrant colors, black and crimson-red look great on
you,” Igorian said before he walked over and adjusted Vlad’s cummerbund. “I feel like you’re getting
ready for prom.”
Vlad rolled his eyes. “You’ve been reading too much of the history books.” Even so, Vlad was
glad that Igorian was interested in the past and how things were before the war between humans and
the paranormals started. He just hoped the guy didn’t start acting stranger than he normally did.
“I still say you should have worn a little bling. That would have really set off your old-world
Victorian outfit.” Igorian threw an arm over Vlad’s shoulder and held up his phone. “Smile for the
Snapchat.”
Vlad growled. “Do not post anything on the Internet.”
Igorian didn’t seem fazed at Vlad’s snarled warning. “You can only open the file once. I’m just
sending it to Cass.”
“Unless you have Snap Save.” Vlad winked at Igorian. “I’m technologically savvy. I just choose
not to mess with that stuff.”
Igorian’s jaw dropped for a moment, and then he chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that.”
Vlad chuckled.
“Oh,” Igorian said, “Wylde Fleur called earlier. I forgot to tell you what with the mating
ceremony and everything going on.”
Vlad rolled his eyes. “What did he want, Iggy?” If the Ministry was still trying to pin something
on him, he was going to take Béla and run. He refused to be separated from his beautiful human again.
“He wanted to send you a mating present but he didn’t have time to buy anything, so he thought
he would let you know that Slovak Upír was found guilty of his crimes and executed. He won’t ever
bother you or Béla again.”
Vlad reached out a hand to the wall to steady himself. He almost felt dizzy at the news. “That
might actually be the best mating present ever.” Béla would never have to fear the man again.
“Did he say anything about Helpsing?” The vampire was dirty. Vlad had seen enough on the
flash stick to know he had some mighty interesting business investments that the Ministry would be
interested in. Maybe that would lead someone to what Helpsing was planning for Phanta City.
The man needed to be locked up for everyone’s sake.
“Wylde said that Helpsing was able to play innocent in the whole scheme and the flash stick
didn’t have enough evidence on it to charge him with anything, but Wylde will keep an eye on him.”
Not good news but Vlad knew that, eventually, Van Helpsing’s shenanigans would come back to
bite him in the ass.
“Enough office chitchat. Let’s go get hitched.” Igorian smiled then bounced out of the room.
Taking one last look at his outfit, Vlad followed Igorian out of the bedroom. He descended the
staircase and entered the large ballroom to see his entire coven in attendance.
Igorian had done a beautiful job decorating for the ceremony. Hundreds of white lights glittered
on the ceiling, giving the entire place a starry-eyed feel to it. Vlad still wasn’t sure why the guy had
hung a large moon over the altar. Igorian leaned sideways and whispered, “It’s traditional at a prom.”
“This is not a prom,” Vlad snarled.
“Just go with the theme.” Igorian hurried over to the Stein brothers.
Vlad was once again felt like he had fallen down the rabbit hole. Standing over by the wall,
Frank and Ken Stein were dressed in black tuxedos, wearing powder-blue pleated shirts, and both of
their slacks rose about their ankles, showing off fuzzy white socks.
Vlad was going to strangle Igorian.
There was even a buffet-style table set off on one side of the room, piled high with human food.
But then again, Capone and his men were here. It would be in poor taste not to feed the wolves.
What had started out as a private ceremony for only his coven had turned into a bizarre kind of
ball of the century. Or some shit like that. That was what Vlad deserved for letting Igorian plan the
whole damn thing.
He moved toward the altar to await Béla’s arrival, trying not to let on how nervous he was
feeling. When the room grew quiet and heads turned, Vlad couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the
entryway.
His breath caught in his chest as his vision tunneled to one beautifully dressed human. The world
seemed to melt away as Vlad’s throat constricted.
Béla was the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on.
His mate was dressed in a white, silk tuxedo that seemed to make his skin shine. Béla’s hair had
grown out since Vlad had cut it, the strands just touching his ears. It was a stylish mess—which he
suspected Igorian had helped the man with—that had Vlad’s fingers craving to run through the
incredibly stunning strands.
But what captivated him most was the sparkle in Béla’s emerald-green eyes. The man looked
truly happy.
Igorian rushed toward the door. “Sorry, I forgot!”
Vlad chuckled as Igorian grabbed Béla’s arm and walked him toward the altar. Not only did Béla
look stunning, but nervous as well. He locked eyes with Vlad and didn’t look away as Igorian handed
Béla off to him.
“Hi,” Béla whispered before biting his bottom lip.
Vlad felt his heart swell twice its normal size at the scared and innocent look on the man’s face.
He knew he would never love anyone as much as his loved his Béla. “Hello, beautiful.”
Béla blushed.
Vlad grinned as he walked Béla to the short podium that was draped in a crimson sash. “Do you
remember what we practiced?”
Béla nodded. “I remember. Béla practice very hard.”
“Good.” Vlad gave a low chuckle. “Then let’s begin.”
Béla lifted his arm, pressing his wrist against Vlad’s, palms out, as Vlad grabbed the sash and
tied their arms together. Both wrists were exposed.
Vlad cleared his throat and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “I, Count Vladimir Dracul,
pledge my life, my love, and my honor to Béla Dracul.”
Béla inhaled sharply. Vlad had held back that tidbit of information. He hadn’t told Béla that he
would be taking Vlad’s surname. The man’s eyes began to brim with tears before Vlad lifted their
bound arms and bit into Béla’s wrist, not spilling a single drop of blood. He licked the wound closed.
“Our souls are now as one.”
Béla’s eyes snapped toward all the people in the room, and Vlad could see how terrified the man
was. He placed the tips of his fingers against Béla’s cheek. “Just concentrate on me, love.”
His mate gave a jerky nod. He straightened his spine before he spoke. “Béla love Vlad. Béla
never leave Vlad. No one drink from Béla but Vlad.” Béla flashed Vlad a look from under his lashes.
“Béla die without Vlad’s love.”
Vlad had an overwhelming urge to pull his mate into his arms, but stayed still as Béla lifted their
joined arms. He wore a small ring on the end of his index finger that had a sharp point. Béla turned the
ring and pierced Vlad’s wrist.
Béla paused. “Is Vlad okay?
“I’m fine, love.”
Béla lifted Vlad’s arm and drank from his wrist, not letting one drop of blood go to waste. Vlad
instantly became hard, this being the first time anyone had drunk from him. He could feel his eyes
changing, his blood surging, his body growing primed and ready.
His mate must have noticed because when he lifted his head, Béla flashed him a wicked smile.
His mate licked his lips, and Vlad had to stop himself from taking the man down and fucking him
right here in front of everyone.
“Our souls be one,” Béla said.
The room erupted into a loud cheer, mostly from the wolves. Igorian was fanning his face with a
purple hanky, dabbing at the tears trickling down his face. “I just love proms.”
Vlad pulled Béla close, wrapping the man in his arms before taking the man’s lips in a sultry
kiss. He kissed Béla with a hunger that belied his outward calm, licking the seam of his lips before
delving inside and laying claim to all that was now his.
By the time he lifted his head, the reception had moved into full swing. People were no longer
waiting for him and Béla to come up for air. They were partying.
“Congratulations,” Capone said as he approached. “I’m touched by what I have seen here today.
So much so, that, on this day of your mating ceremony, I grant you one wish.”
Vlad’s heart pounded in his chest. This was his chance to wipe his debt clean. Or he could
arrange to do business on the docks. Maybe he could change a few laws. The possibilities were
endless. But he knew there was only one thing he wanted, and that was to be out of Capone’s pocket.
“Fries from golden M!” Béla blurted out as he bounced in place.
“Granted.” Capone gave a slight bow of his head. The boss turned toward Vlad, giving him a
calculating smile. The bastard knew exactly what Vlad had been going to ask for.
But Vlad couldn’t be mad at his mate. Not when he had the most treasured gift of all. He cupped
Béla’s cheek, his mate grinning wildly at him. Vlad chuckled before he said, “That’s my beautiful
Béla.”
THE END
WWW.STORMYGLENN.COM
WWW.LYNNHAGEN.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Stormy believes the only thing sexier than a man in cowboy boots is two or three men in cowboy
boots. She also believes in love at first sight, soul mates, true love, and happy endings. You can
usually find her cuddled in bed with a book in her hand and a puppy in her lap, or on her laptop,
creating the next sexy man for one of her stories.
Stormy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website at www.stormyglenn.com.
Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but lovable. She also loves a hero who can
see past all the rough edges to find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart. You can find her on any
given day curled up with her laptop and a cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their
story.
For all titles by Stormy Glenn, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/stormy-glenn
For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Document Outline
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- About the Authors
Wyszukiwarka
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