Daric’s Mate (The Vampire Coalition #5)(2)
Author: J.S. Scott

“I’m sorry, sir, but my delivery person is gone for the evening because of the storm.” The female voice sounded weary.

Fuck! He ordered from Temple’s often, and they had never had a problem delivering, even when it was snowing. If they did, they would never deliver because it snowed all the damn time during the winter in this remote area. His home and the tiny town about three miles away, in a far-flung area of the Rocky Mountains, rarely saw a day without snow in the winter at this elevation.

“I’ll pay. Five hundred bucks extra to anybody you can find to deliver. In addition to the cost of the food. And I need a lot of food.” Actually, he needed blood, and Daric didn’t want to waste energy going to retrieve human food. His reserves were low; he’d waited way too long. After his day sleep, he’d be forced to immediately find an unsuspecting blood donor, his need finally overcoming his revulsion. Until then, he was hoping that gorging on pizza and bread sticks would take the edge off the gnawing hunger that was making his gut burn, his gums ache with stabbing pain, and his fangs want to burst free from confinement.

The phone line was silent, but Daric could hear the woman breathing. He clenched his fingers around the phone, fighting the urge to give the woman a push, a slight mental compulsion to obey his demands. As a prince of the vampire healers, there was very little that Daric wasn’t capable of doing with his magic. However, doing anything other than feeding, like taking away free will from another being, came with a price. The pain wouldn’t be anything like the backlash he suffered whenever he was forced to take the life of a fallen, but it wouldn’t be pleasant in his weakened state. And, his f**king noble conscience would plague him later, beating at him for doing something that he would definitely have chastised one of his healers for doing. Having royal blood could be a real bitch sometimes.

“I’ll find someone.” The woman’s breathy answer was barely audible.

Daric didn’t recognize the voice, though he thought he had probably spoken to everyone who worked at Temple’s . God knew he called there often enough. “I need ten extra-large pizzas with everything. No fish. No fruit.” Daric shuddered. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t eat, but there was something criminal about putting pineapple or tiny fish on a perfectly good pizza.

“Must be some party.” The female’s comment was muttered in a low voice, too quiet for a human to hear.

But Daric wasn’t human, and he grumbled, “No party. I’m hungry.”

“Sorry…I…sorry.” She sounded distressed, embarrassed that Daric had responded to her personal observation. “I’ll get those out to you as soon as possible,” the woman answered in a louder, more professional voice.

“I’m not done.” Did she think that was all he wanted? He had told her he was hungry . “I need ten orders of bread sticks with plenty of dipping sauce.” He paused before asking, “And those little chocolate desserts. I want ten of those.”

“Is this a joke? Who is this?” The voice on the line sounded exasperated.

A joke? The damn human female was mocking him? “I am Daric Carvillius.” Who did she think she was messing with? Nobody screwed around with his food.

“Shit! I’m sorry, Mr. Carvillius. I should have known. My name is Hannah. I don’t take orders very often.” Her answer was immediate and remorseful.

Okay. That was more like it. Daric wasn’t so sure that the cursing was appropriate, but at least the woman was properly contrite. “Just get it here. Fast.”

“As quickly as possible, Mr. Carvillius.”

Daric disconnected the call, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a heavy sigh.

Dragging his depleted body into the living room, he threw his massive bulk onto the couch, trying not to think about how desperately he needed blood. Compulsion and revulsion were constantly at war, revulsion almost always winning, until a vampire healer absolutely had to feed. At that point, compulsion took over and the healer fed, hating the act, but compelled by a force stronger than the foul distaste he felt when taking blood. Eventually, need would always win, forcing the healer to act.

Daric was pushing that fine line, his need growing stronger than his morals.

Fuck! It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 2

Damn it!

Hannah Temple slammed the phone back into the cradle on the wall, brushing it absently with the towel in her hand to remove the flour that now coated the entire telephone, a result of her grabbing at it without removing the pizza dough from her hands before answering the call.

“I should have just let it ring,” she muttered to herself, glancing out of the window of the empty restaurant, seeing nothing but blowing snow, wondering what had possessed her to agree to this order and the delivery.

Money. You could use the money and Temple’s needs the business of Daric Carvillius. You can’t afford to turn down that kind of cash or piss off Temple’s best customer.

Stripping off her contaminated disposable gloves, she tossed them into the trash with an exhausted sigh, yearning for a hot bath and a good book.

Not happening, Hannah. You have a huge order to fill and deliver.

Walking slowly to the door of the small eatery, Hannah flipped the sign to Closed. It was nearly closing time, and she didn’t really expect to see another customer, but she might as well make it official. It was going to take her a very long time to finish this order, and then deliver it outside of town. If she could even make it to the Carvillius home. Her old truck was a workhorse, but it wouldn’t matter if the mountain roads were filled with more snow than any vehicle could handle. Hannah wasn’t sure how much snow had fallen throughout the day and evening. She had been too busy working the restaurant to notice, most of her staff either out with the flu or unable to make it down the rural roads and into the tiny town of Temple. The small village had been named after one of her ancestors, a man responsible for establishing the community. The pizzeria was nearly a historical landmark, a business that had been started by her grandfather in his youth. Hannah’s father had learned from her grandfather, running the business as it had always been run, keeping tradition alive. Now, unfortunately, the business was in the hands of Hannah-the-Clueless, a woman totally unprepared for the challenge of keeping the business efficient and thriving.

I should have closed today, not tried to run the restaurant with almost no help.

It wasn’t as if the little pizzeria was incredibly busy, but she had been steadily working since lunch, and her leg was aching.