Fashionably Dead (14 page)

Chapter 13

You are H-O-T hot
, I thought as I hung out in the Grand Foyer of the Cressida House, admiring my babysitter.

“I’m sorry?” he said with a twinkle in his gorgeous blue eyes.

Oh hell, did I say that out loud? Shit, shit, shit. I mean, he’s gorgeous, but I don’t want him to think I was checking him out . . . even though I was. That would be sexist and wrong and rude. God, what in the hell is wrong with me? He is not a piece of meat. He is a very nice, very handsome Vampyre guy who is showing me the ropes and he’s going to think I’m a crazy slut. I can’t believe I said the hot thing out loud.

“Actually you didn’t,” he grinned. “One of my gifts is mind reading.”

“Holy hell,” I gasped, mortified. “Did you hear all of that?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “And thank you.”

“Oh my God,” I pleaded. “Is there an off switch?”

“Yes,” he said slowly, “but with where your mind seems to be going, I’m loath to tell you.”

“Please?” I gave him a flirty smile. He returned the favor with a killer smile of his own. Were those dimples? Damn it, I loved dimples.

“Alright, but there’s a price,” he teased.

“What’s the price?” I asked, hoping it had something to do with my lips on his.

“If you keep having thoughts like that,” he informed me, grabbing his chest as if his heart was breaking, “there’s no way I’ll let you close me out of your mind.”

“Sorry,” I giggled. Damn, he was beautiful and sweet and silly with a fantastic ass and . . .

“Enough! You’re killing me,” he grinned. “Close your eyes.”

I did.

“Now visualize heavy metal doors, similar to garage doors. Reach for them and slowly pull them down. When you have closed all the doors, visualize heavy metal locks and lock them.”

I did.

“Is that it?” I opened my eyes in surprise.

“Yep,” he smiled, “that’s it.”

“Is it working?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Think of something wickedly sexual, something I would absolutely have to react to . . . and we’ll see.”

Were all male Vampyres were perverts? I envisioned something very naked, very sweaty and very vocal between the beautiful Vampyre and myself. I watched him closely for a reaction. Nothing. Thank God.

“What if I want you inside me?” I asked.

“Oh my sweet, you only have to ask,” he said. His eyes turned green and he laughed.

“Shit,” I blurted, “that came out totally wrong. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean inside . . . I mean, um, I meant my head. Inside my head.”

“I know what you meant,” he sighed, “but a man can always hope.”

If I could still blush, I’d be a tomato.

“If you want me inside you,” he teased as I rolled my eyes in embarrassment, “just unlock the doors and open them.”

“It’s that easy?” I asked.

“It’s that easy,” he replied with another beautiful smile. “Now Astrid, do you know what to do when you go into the ballroom?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Kind of,” I said, “but I’m at a loss.”

“A loss?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, “you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

He paused and stared at me for a long moment. “Do you promise not to laugh?” he asked, the twinkle back in his eyes.

“With a set-up like that, I’m not sure,” I said, really liking this guy.

“Would you like to guess?” he asked.

“Rumplestiltskin?” I teased.

“Nope.”

“Herman?”

“Definitely not,” he shot back. “It’s Heathcliff.”

“Really?” I tried to stifle my giggles.

“Really,” he smiled. “My mother was a huge
Wuthering Heights
fan, and also a good friend of Emily Bronte.”

“My Nana loved Emily Bronte too. So you must be . . . ?”

“One hundred and forty,” he answered, watching my face for a reaction. He got one.

“Sorry,” I stammered, “it’s hard to wrap my head around that. You don’t look a day over thirty,” I added hastily.

“In mortal years, I was twenty-seven when my father changed me.”

That stopped me. “Your father?” I was astonished. “Vampyres can’t have children.”

“It’s a long story. He fathered my sister and me when he was mortal. He and my mother were changed when we were babies. My mother didn’t make it. My father was devastated, but he raised us and loved us. He waited until my sister and I were in our twenties and then gave us the option. We took it.”

“So your real biological family is still alive?” I was awestruck.

“Yes,” he said with pride, “other than the Royal Family, we’re the only biological Vampyre family.”

“Just don’t tell me your sister’s name is Catherine,” I joked.

“Okay,” he said sheepishly, “I won’t.”

“Get. Out. Of. Town.” I started laughing. “You’re kidding!”

“Nope, it’s Catherine. She goes by Cathy . . . you can meet her later. And yes, we take a lot of crap about our names. She is one of the Elite Guard for the Warrior Prince, as am I.”

“Where’s your dad?” I asked this one hundred and forty year old man who looked my age.

“He’s the leading scholar of Vampyre History and resides with our King. I believe they’re in Italy at the moment. They’ll be visiting the North American Dominion within the month,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to a settee.

“Astrid, when you enter the Grand Ballroom,” Heathcliff coached, “keep your eyes downcast until the Warrior Prince speaks to you.”

I was so glad he couldn’t read my mind, because that sounded like backward-ass feudal bullshit to me. Venus told me I had to behave, so behave I would.

“Okay Astrid,” he said.
God, he was dreamy.
“Someone will be out for you shortly. I have to go in now.” He squeezed my hand and turned to leave.

“Heathcliff,” I called after him.

“Yes?”

“Where do you live?”
Hell, could I be more transparent?

He stopped and smiled, clearly delighted with my question. “I live wherever the Warrior Prince lives, but we stay in Kentucky often.” He winked at me, turned and left.

God, why couldn’t I have a boyfriend like that? I was sure I’d just embarrassed myself. There was no way someone who looked like that didn’t already have a girlfriend or ten or twenty.

Why in the world were all the Vampyres so good looking? Everything about the Vampyre world was exquisite—the Vampyres themselves, their homes, their clothes, their asses. For God’s sake, there was another one at the top of the stairs. From this distance he looked like a Greek god come to life.

The Cressida House might be gorgeous, but nowhere near as stunning as the Vampyre descending the Grand Staircase. God, this one may be better than Heathcliff. His name had to be Romeo or Fabio. He was the finest looking man I’d ever seen. Talk about hot; that guy could melt the polar icecap. He was so hot, he could melt panties . . . so hot that he could . . . wait. Holy hell, I knew him. Shit, shit, shit.

It was Ethan. My heart bounced around in my chest like a Ping-Pong ball. He was headed my way, the crazy Rogue killer Vampyre I’d been fantasizing about day and night. How in the world did he look better than I remembered? That wasn’t fair. Whatever. It didn’t matter how good-looking he was. It couldn’t erase the fact that he tried to kill me.

I frantically glanced around the foyer. Why wasn’t anyone around? If I ran he’d definitely notice and if I transported away, I’d probably be put to death by the Prince. Either way I end up deader than I already am. Shit, can’t I ever catch a break without being killed? Maybe he won’t see me if I stand really still.
That’s stupid
. Please God, let him walk right by and not notice that I’m standing next to the door that he’s moving toward. Please, please, please . . . damn.

He stopped dead in his tracks about six feet from me. He started at my stiletto clad feet, sliding slowly up my bare legs, pausing at my breasts that were firmly hugged by my black strapless Prada. From there his eyes traveled lazily to my neck, my lips, and finally my eyes. I saw delight and something I couldn’t define flash in his beautiful gold eyes as recognition hit. He recovered quickly, much quicker than I did.

“Hello Angel, you’ve been on my mind,” he said, walking toward me.

“Interesting. My mind erased you—
and
Angel’s not my name. Gotta go,” I mumbled, moving down the hallway at a sprint. Away from the ballroom and away from him. I’m supposed to meet the freakin’ Warrior Prince, not get murdered by a hot Rogue Vampyre.

Door, door, door . . . where in the hell was a door? If I could find a closet or a bathroom . . . wait. Did they even have bathrooms here? I mean, they don’t use them. For a place so huge you’d think they’d at least have a stupid closet, for shit’s sake.

I quickly glanced over my shoulder. Great, I’d lost him. At least one thing had gone in my favor. Now I just needed to find a . . . door! Thank God! I threw myself into what turned out to be a bathroom, evidenced by the toilet I tripped over.

“Crap, that hurt,” I muttered, getting up off all fours and turning on the light. I glanced in the mirror, hoping that they had a special one that a Vampyre’s reflection showed up in.

Nope.

“Okay . . . ” I explained to no one as I adjusted my dress. Sprinting, strapless dresses and stilettos didn’t go well together. “I’ll just stay in here for a few minutes and then find my way back. Hopefully Mr. Hot Pants Killer will be gone. I can meet the Prince, slit my wrist, get this stupid medieval bullshit over with and get the hell out of here.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Holy shit,” I screeched, hopping my butt up on the counter. Very poorly thought out move on my part as my ass landed in the sink. How did I not know he was in here? Damn, I sucked as a Vampyre. “Did you even think about knocking?”

“No,” Ethan grinned. “I find the element of surprise to be helpful, Angel.”

“I told you that’s not my name,” I insisted. I tried un-wedge my rear end, but a butt in a sink is a butt in a sink.

“No, it may not be,” he said, moving just a little bit closer, “but that’s what I think I shall call you.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, changing the subject and hoping I didn’t look as ridiculous as I knew I did. “Did you and your Rogue friends get caught?”

He stared at me in amazed confusion for a moment. “Are you serious?” he asked.

“Of course I am, you dork.”

“Oh, little Angel,” he grinned with delight, “I’m not the Rogue. I’m the Rogue’s worst nightmare.”

“Really? How very Rambo of you,” I offered flatly.
What was he? Some kind of Vampyre police?
I was trying to keep my eyes on his face when they desperately wanted to roam his whole body, followed by my hands, then my mouth.
Whoa there, Nelly.
“So then I suppose you’re in trouble for ripping your sister’s limbs off?”

He laughed.
Help me
. . . he was even more beautiful when he laughed.

“I’m always in trouble, Angel,” he said, running his hand through his hair and watching me closely.

What was it with this guy? Heathcliff was as good looking as Ethan, but ol’ Heath didn’t make me want to rip my panties off. I couldn’t think straight when I was near this bad Vampyre. Damn it, if my ass wasn’t stuck in the sink I could make another run for it. He stopped inches from me. My insides started to tingle.

“You’re a mystery, little Angel.” With strong hands, he gently lifted me out of the sink and settled me on the counter. He slowly and deliberately ran his hands down my thighs. I had a burning desire to open them, trap him between them and make him see Jesus.
What the fu . . . ?

I knocked his hands away and pressed myself against the mirror. I was hoping to put more than just a few inches between us. This murdering Vampyre was making me consider things no nice girl should ever consider—sex in a sink, for one.

He moved closer. I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended he was Charlie from the senior center. Not. Working. Shitfire. The seniors didn’t smell like he did. If he didn’t smell so damn good, I wouldn’t feel the need to knock him to the ground and ride him ‘til he was blind.

God, he really smelled like Heaven. I opened my eyes to find the sexiest killer alive a mere thought away from my lips. His eyes had changed from gold to green. He slowly ran his fingers down my neck and along my collarbone. I felt my nipples harden. His eyes flashed a brilliant green, and his lazy grin almost made me pass out. I was quite certain that he no longer wanted to kill me.

“Why are you here, Angel?”

He was so close I got confused. He was literally jumbling my brain. Was that his special Vampyre power, or was I just in heat? If he ran his fingers any closer to my traitorous boobs, I was going to have multiple orgasms. He smiled as if he knew what I was thinking.

“I have to go see your Warrior guy. Prince, thing . . . guy . . . .um . . . ” I mumbled.

“You must be in a lot of trouble.”

To my great dismay, I leaned into him. His lips feathered across mine and he made the sexiest sound I’d ever heard. Holy hell, he was making staying clothed very difficult.