Vampire Crush(58)
Author: A.M. Robinson

"I am so pleased that you could join us, Sophochka," Vlad says. He is perched on the rotting picnic table, his black shirt molded to his chest. As I watch, he crosses his legs and brings his hands to rest on the bump of his knees.

"Where is Caroline?" I rasp, searching the clearing frantically. Nothing. I stand up and turn in a circle, peering through the gaps in the trees. The rain has turned everything misty, creating a wall of fog that prevents me from seeing beyond this tiny bubble of space. Vlad waits for me to stop twirling before casually leaning to the side to reveal Caroline’s slumped figure tied to a tree with a bright pink neon cord. Her head hangs forward, her curly blond hair veiling her face.

"Is she . . . ," I start, the dawning horror feeling like ants crawling up my skin.

"Oh, she is not dead. I just did not want to listen to her for one more second – she knows quite a few curse words. What is a ‘lametard’?"

"Let her go," I say. "She has nothing to do with this."

"She has everything to do with this," he snaps. "If you would have but given me a second chance to court you, I would not have needed to resort to such drastic measures. But you have made it clear that you have no intention of doing this the civil way, and I do not have time to overcome your stubbornness or endure your public insults. I have tired of this place," he says, springing off the picnic table with an agile hop. "Here is what I offer. You agree to become a vampire and marry me now, and I release her. She might wonder why she has a sore neck for a few days, but otherwise, she will remember nothing."

My eyes fly to Caroline. "You didn’t . . . ," I start, but I see how his gray eyes are sparkling; I see how there is color in his cheeks.

"Oh, I did not make her a vampire. Just a beverage. After all, it has been such a very long time since I indulged in fresh human blood," he says. Reaching out, he runs one cold finger down my cheek and then traces the crescent of skin exposed above the collar of my T-shirt. "Usually I have difficulty pulling back. But then I remembered that I needed her to get to you."

I slap his hand away without thinking. How about we not antagonize the crazy vampire who holds your sister hostage, okay, Sophie? Swallowing, I try to keep my voice calm. "I thought that you needed witnesses."

"We have them," he insists.

"Who? Squirrels?"

"No, of course not," Vlad says. "Sometimes your humor is inappropriate. I was speaking of Devon and Ashley."

"They hardly talk!"

"I admit that they are not ideal, but you have left me with little option. Still, just to allay your worries . . ." Walking over, he pats one of them on the cheek. "Come, Ashley, say hello to Sophochka."

Ashley opens his mouth and emits a dusty grunt.

"A word," Vlad insists, but I don’t hear whether or not Ashley speaks because Caroline is stirring. I need to distract him.

"Okay," I say, and then repeat it loudly to cover up her groan.

Vlad turns to face me. "’Okay’ what?"

"Tell me more about what will happen when we are Danae," I say, moving to the side so that his back is completely toward Caroline, who is now blinking as though trying to focus.

He smiles. "I suspected that you were not nearly as indifferent as you claimed. I am sure that they will reward me handsomely. A real house, for a start – they are said to have thousands across the world. And then perhaps a position of some import."

Caroline is now fully awake and staring at us with wide, horrified eyes. Holding her gaze, I telepath a plea for her to stay still. It fails. She begins to wiggle, and while she may be tied to the tree with a jump rope, Vlad did not count on cheerleader flexibility. However, there is no such thing as cheerleader stealth. In order to mask the rasping sound of her movements, I step closer to Vlad, checking to see if Devon and Ashley have noticed her. Nope. Their expressions are still Grade-A vacant. Still . . .

"Vlad," I say sweetly. "I do not like them watching us. It’s creepy."

He looks over me to bark at the twins. "Turn away," he orders and they dutifully turn to face the trees. When he turns back to face me with a smug smile that says, "Look what I can do," I ask him what kind of position he could have.

"I do not know," he says. "I have always wanted to be a judge. High Examiner Vlad Mervaux. Yes, that has a nice ring to it."

"You would make a wonderful judge," I lie, noticing that Caroline is almost free. His face moves even closer, so close that I can see the darker ring of gray in his eyes.

Picking up my hand, he runs the pad of his thumb over my knuckles. "You know, you are not entirely without hope. We will work on the clothing."

Be still my beating heart. Now that Vlad is so close, I can no longer see Caroline. I hope that when she is free, she runs. Just runs. Then when I am sure she is safe, I will make my move with the spoon.

All this talk of social-climbing has made Vlad amorous. He moves forward, trying to press up against me, and I instinctively back up until I hit the hard trunk of a tree. His features have relaxed, and now he sizes me up with a gaze that lingers like a lazy drawl. The sound of the rain dribbling its way down through the canopy of leaves drowns out almost everything else. So many things are rustling that it’s difficult to figure out if one of them is an escape rustle. I brace myself against the tree, digging my fingernails into the bark as I lift my heels to sneak a surreptitious look behind him.

But I am not stealthy enough. His eyebrows quirk downward, signaling suspicion, and his head begins to turn. I have to stop him. But how?

Darting forward, I grab his cheeks and pull him toward me. Before I can give him the kind of sexy, diverting, cheek kiss that will go down in the annals of seductress history, he turns his head, forcing his mouth against mine. His lips are cool, wet, and slightly . . . tangy. Oh. Oh. Gross. My fingers clutch his shirt, not because I’m in danger of melting into a puddle of goo, but because it helps keep me from slapping him away when his lips begin to move sluggishly. Caroline better be running like the wind right now, the wind.

Suddenly our teeth bump and scrape. He bites my lip, sharp as a bee sting, and I gasp. Rearing back, I dart to the side without thinking – not being familiar with the ins and outs of demonic make-out sessions, I am determined to evade whatever "move" this heralds. I turn, ready to defend myself or make excuses. For a few seconds my brain refuses to process the evidence in front of me. When it finally sinks in, I only wish that it were a hallucination.