Vampires Don't Date the Boss
Vampires Don't Date the Boss
He knew better. He did. But this vampire didn’t care. He wanted her.
Vampire Mythicals Book 3
Edward Thompson knew that he needed to stop. That lusting after his boss, one Eve Harrison would likely get him killed.
He would not put it past her to stab him through the heart and end his vampiric life. At this point, though, would he mind?
Not particularly. Vampirism wasn’t what he expected.
And his new boss, Eve, was not like his sire. She was smoking hot, a lethal fighter, and had already killed one of them.
What would she do if she found out he wanted her?
Probably kill him.
The inside of the nightclub reeked with the smell of horny humans, all looking for that sexual match, like heavy incense wafting out into the street. The desires thundered, matching the bass that echoed in the street, or so it seemed to Edward Thompson.
He could feel it in the air, like a sweat he couldn’t wipe from his skin.
He’d considered going inside, but it seemed fruitless.
Too many cameras.
And he didn’t like people watching while he was eating.
One of the long-held vampire myths was wrong—vampires could see their reflections just fine. Closed-circuit monitors captured them as well. Truly, any sort of film did.
While post-mortem their remains disappeared, but in the breathing existence, yes, they could be recorded. All those lovely photos of humans that look the same generation after generation? Many were vampires hiding in plain sight.
Sometimes the best places to hide were with a crowd.
Melios told them that.
But Thompson wasn’t one for crowds before he turned, much less now. He remained careful where he showed up. He hadn’t been turned for very long, really, not on the grand scale of some of the others. Their sire, Melios? He had been around for a few centuries. He’d never been told exactly how long, but it was much longer than a few decades, as so many in the nest were.
None of the nest were particularly old, relatively speaking, but it didn’t seem to bother Reynolds, Malcomb, or the others like it did him.
Maybe that was because none of them mentioned their human life before. Though reminiscing about the past was not encouraged.
The past was gone.
They’d all killed it when they’d turned, as Melios liked to say.
Thompson, however, still thought about those he grew up with. There were still humans who knew Thompson from before, and he didn’t want to bite someone he went to school with or some such.
If Malcomb or Reynolds had similar concerns, they never voiced it.
“You not going in?” Jake Reynolds asked.
Thompson shook his head. “I’ll catch the scraps.” It was easier to grab a potential meal from someone in the shadows than it was in the club, where everyone was touching and watching everyone anyway.
At least, that was the way that worked for him
Reynolds shrugged. “We don’t get out often. You should enjoy it.”
“Fuck, I will,” Isaac Malcomb said, grinning as he headed for the door.
“Be back soon,” Reynolds said. “Malcomb!”
Malcomb spun around and his teeth bared from his grin.
Reynolds touched his mouth.
Thompson rolled his eyes. Overly enthusiastic, sometimes. Of course, getting away from their sire and being allowed to just exist was a rarity.
They’d earned it this time.
They had been tasked to handle a problem with some newly turned vampires. Finding said vampires and disposing of them.
One of those weird twists in the world--no vampire could kill one of their own—at least, not by direct physical contact.
So indirect physical contact was warranted. Like strapping offenders to the roof before dawn. Let the sunshine do the work. First, the sun ashed, then the wind carried away the evidence.
While guns worked too, they had their own problems. Guns left evidence. Even if it was just bullet casings. And evidence meant questions. Humans who asked questions caused problems.
Part of the reason two members of their team had joined.
Joanie Alekhine and Travis Collins waited by the door of Mythicals, the bar that Melios had sent them to check out. The place had recently been bought out by a new owner, some werewolf, and it was supposed to be friendly to the mythical population. And humans were always ripe for the picking because they loved to be seen at the latest place in town.
Though how that worked, Thompson didn’t know, because humans weren’t supposed to know mythicals existed. It seemed, tonight at least, there were plenty of humans who were very into the idea of checking out the bar.
Lots of food for the taking.
Thompson’s stomach growled. He started to walk away from the bar’s entrance.
“Hey there, sexy,” came a female voice.
He turned. Human, he thought—no obvious signs of mythical nature, anyway.
“I think you need to buy me a drink,” she said, rubbing her hand on her hip suggestively.
Hunger surged inside him, and he could feel the desires creeping up. His gaze ran over her pleasing curves. Lush hips that certainly would feel good against him as he feasted.
She started to walk toward him, and he could smell her desire, bubbling up to the surface. The smell of her intoxication increased as she got closer, but regardless, he was hungry. He checked the surroundings as she came over to him.
Willing was always easiest.
Melios had always told him that.
Taking was necessary, but if they’re willing to give it to you…
The woman approached. She was willing. Very willing.
Others in the immediate area were glancing their way.
This was why he didn’t come down to bars often if he didn’t have to.
He didn’t like it.
She got closer. “Wow, you really are a hottie, aren’t you?” She touched him. He felt the vibration of desire rolling off her like the thumping bass at a car show. She was looking for something tonight.
And Thompson was going to be that something.
He clenched his teeth and slid his arm around her. “Come with me.”
She held onto him as he walked back into the shadows between the buildings.
Out of prying eyes.
“Honey, we should—” she started to say.
He silenced her by yanking her against him. He was both hungry for the blood in her veins and hard for the feel of her hips against him.
She gasped; a crooked smile passed over her face. “Well, hi,” she said, her hips rocking into his.
He silenced her with a searing kiss. She groaned as he ran his hands over her curves, savoring the feel of the soft flesh under the dress.
It didn’t take him long to pull her further into the shadows.
In a moment, she begged him.
He touched her, in all the intimate places, her heart pounding in her chest, the blood rushing under her skin. He turned her away from him, against a stair rail, and when he buried his cock inside her, he buried his teeth into her neck.
She cried out.
He rocked his hips into hers, devouring the flavor of her, his bloodlust finally getting its fill, for now at least.
She was gone, lost in the sensations, her body quivering under his, her insides squeezing him in her ecstasy.
Drain her dry…
Melios’s words thundered in his head.
The demand to feast and drain every drop of this woman felt like falling into a cold shower, stopping him cold. Whether it truly was his sire, from somewhere else, telling him what to do, or just the ingrained teachings the vampire had always said over the years, Thompson wasn’t sure.
Only that it was enough to make him break.
The woman’s head dipped to the side, the blood oozing out her wounds like she’d fallen asleep.
Slowly, my dear, Thompson thought. “Slowly back to reality.”
He licked the area, getting the last of the blood, and letting his saliva do what it did to seal the wound.
She moaned and he carefully stroked her arms, her legs, as he pulled out of her, his cock still hard, unsatisfied. He fastened his pants, adjusting everything as his cock started to lose some hardness. It was still painfully uncomfortable, but he couldn’t do anything about that.
The woman started to wake. She became more aware, and looked around, her eyes wide.
She stared at him. “You’re… Did we?”
He pulled her to him, stroking a strand of her hair from her face. “You are exquisite.”
She shook her head. He put his hand on her chin and brought her gaze up to him.
“You probably should be getting home,” he told her, his tone very carefully chosen.
“I should be getting home.”
He nodded. “Call your ride.”
“I’ll call my ride,” she said and pulled her cell phone out of her little wrist purse thing.
Thompson walked her back to the sidewalk. He kissed her cheek, whispered a few soft nothings to her, enough to keep her calm and get her to go right to bed when she got home. And not notice the wounds on her neck. They’d likely be healed by morning, but a suggestion to not look in the mirror when she got home was always useful.
He remained close enough to make sure she got her ride. He didn’t have to wait long. Maybe five minutes. She climbed in and was off.
Yet another victim of a vampire.
Thompson didn’t love using that part of himself, the ability to influence minds, if he didn’t have to. Melios had talked like all vampires could do it, but none of the others in their little squad had shown signs of the skill, so Thompson thought it would be better to keep that knowledge to himself. He didn’t think he was horribly good at it, anyway.
It was just helpful when he got into a jam. Or some unwanted attention.
He walked around the other side of the bar and saw a little fenced-in area. The outdoor smoking section. What he was looking for, he wasn’t sure.
Still hungry, maybe?
He couldn’t place it, but he wanted to wander around. See what was going on. A sensation he couldn’t place prodded him to go.
It took but a moment to see the patio where patrons could smoke. He found a shadowed area and waited.
Why he still wasn’t sure.
Several women were out there with their cigarettes, talking, and laughing.
One wore a bride-to-be sash, with a little tiara and veil on it, her voice louder than the others.
He wasn’t sure.
It wasn’t hunger. No, what he took from that other woman, he’d be sated for several days, anyway. Maybe even a week if he didn’t exert himself.
Yet this woman gave him pause. A cadence to her voice that he recognized.
“Are you excited?” one of the ladies said. “I mean, it’s in three days. You have to be excited.”
“I’m happy to be moving forward,” the bride said. “It’s time.”
“Damn straight. Took Darnell forever to ask you!” another woman said. “I swear, I wanted to punch him in the head for waiting so long.”
The bride shook her head. “Don’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault. I just wasn’t ready.”
“Asking doesn’t mean have to do it right away, though.”
The bride shrugged. “He’s been so patient with me, and so caring. I would never have gotten through everything without him. Between all the losses—”
“You have had it rough. The whole damn family, gone.” One of the women patted her on the shoulder.
The words hit Thompson hard.
“Not entirely. My grandmother’s still alive. Albeit up in Morning Pines Nursing home, but she’s alive.”
“Does she even know who you are?”
“Some days. Most of the time, she tells me about visits from dead people. My mom visits four or five times a week, to hear her tell it.” There was levity in her voice, but not much.
A couple of the women shook their heads.
She held up her glass. “But now is the time. I’m growing. Moving forward. I have a good job, a great house, and in a few days, I will have a husband who adores me.”
“He’d better,” one of the other ladies said.
They toasted their glasses.
It made Thompson smile to watch the exchange. Seeing someone who evidently had fought through hardships, and come out on the other side, moving forward. Those types of stories always touched him.
Not that he told anyone that.
But for a moment, he felt privileged to be a part of this celebration, if only from the shadows, listening.
“Good luck to you,” he whispered.
She turned, so he could see her face.
The woman was his sister.
His baby sister from his human life.
She looked around for the ashtray. “I do wish my brother had met him. Wally would have really liked Darnell, I think.”
“I’m sure I would have,” Thompson muttered.
Suddenly, she looked his way. Like right at him. He moved backward, more into the shadows.
One of the women came to her side. “Luc? What is it?”
She shook her head. “For a second, I swear I saw Wally.”
“I’m sure he’s out there. And I bet he’s super proud of you, girl,” she said. “Now come on. We got some partying to do!”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
Thompson nodded. “I am.”
Flat rate shipping in the Continental USA