Stake That (7 page)

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Francis kicks the ground with his toe. Let me tell you, the guy’s feet make Michael Jordan look like a midget. I’d hate to meet him in a back alleyway.

Oh, wait, we’re in a back alleyway. Uh, never mind.

“Her name is Dana. She works here as a biter,” Francis explains. Of course, I’m all wondering if a bouncer dating a biter is as cliche as a bouncer dating a stripper. But Frannie looks so upset, I decide not to ask. And really, who am I to judge?

“Three days ago, she called in sick. And she hasn’t shown up since. She’s not been back to the crypt. In fact, I’ve searched everywhere for her. It’s like she’s dropped off the face of the earth.”

“I’m sure she’ll turn up,” I say, trying to sound comfort-ing. I pat him on his big hairy forearm. “Don’t worry.”

He grins ruefully and pats me on the head. “Thanks,” he says. “You’re probably right. Nothing to be concerned over.” He gestures to the door. “Would you like to go in?”

“Please.”

I walk inside, once again enveloped by the dim lighting, smoky air, and crimson interiors, this time soundtracked by the band She Wants Revenge, crooning from some hidden overhead speakers. I can’t say I’m surprised to learn that vamps dig Emo.

I enter the lounge and approach the hostess.

“Hey, I’m back,” I say, trying to act as nonchalant as pos-sible. “Can I get the same biter as yesterday?

Jareth, I think his name was? He was uber hot.”

I giggle to myself as she checks the list. Jareth’s going to be so annoyed when he sees me again. But, hey, I’m just simply following orders. If he has a problem with me, he’ll have to take it up with Magnus.

“Sure. He’s not with anyone at the moment,” the hostess says. “Go ahead to room six and I’ll send him in.”

Perfect. I thank the woman and head behind the curtain to room six, praying that Jareth doesn’t take forty-five minutes to show up this time. I forgot my Game Boy DS and I’m so not the type of girl who can just sit around and twiddle her thumbs contentedly. Besides, we’ve got a mission to accom-plish here. No time for goofing around.

Luckily it only takes about five minutes for the door to open and “Hotness” to walk through.

“Hi, my name is Jareth, and I’ll be your— God!” He curses as he lays his eyes on me. I raise an eyebrow. “You’ll be my god? Hm … Well, we’ll have to see about that. I mean, it takes a lot to rock my world these days.”

His powder-white face pinkens and he quickly changes the subject. Heh. “What the hell are you doing here?” he growls. “I thought I told you I work alone.”
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“And I thought I told you I don’t listen to stupid, pig-headed vampires. And if I didn’t, well consider this fair warning.”

“Watch out, little girl,” Jareth says, looming over me, rais-ing his arms in what I assume he means to be a threatening, evil gesture. “I am a creature of the night. I am not to be toyed with.” I roll my eyes. “Ooh. I’m scared.”

He lowers his hands and huffs in annoyance. “Well, you bloody well should be. I could bite you, you know.”

“And I could stake you,” I say, rummaging through my messenger bag to pull out the chunk of wood Teifert gave me. I stand up and wave it at Jareth’s face. “One false move and…POW!” Jareth stares at the stake, then at me, then back to the stake. Then, to my surprise, he bursts out laughing.

“What?” I scowl, so not appreciating his reaction. After all, I am a vampire slayer, right? He should be shaking in his boots just at the mere sight of me.

“What… the hell … is that?” he asks, between chortles. He’s laughing so hard he’s holding his stomach.

“A stake.”

“That’s not a stake. It’s a chunk of wood.”

“Well, it’s … not… finished yet,” I say, defensively, lowering the weapon.”Ineed to carve it. Embed it with my own essence.” Wow, that sounds a lot dumber when it comes out of my mouth.

“Bwahahahaha!” Jareth continues laughing at my expense. “What are you going to do? Give the evil vampires splinters?”

I can feel my face heat with embarrassment, which is
sooo
annoying. How dare he make fun of me? I have been put on this earth to slay his kind. One false move and I’ll go all des-tiny on his ass. Somehow. Though probably not with this particular stake… .

Grrr …

“Shut up!” I cry, unable to come up with one of my infa-mous Rayne comebacks. “Stop laughing at me.” Jareth sighs, reaching up to wipe the bloody tears of mirth from his eyes. “Oh, Rayne,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re precious, you know that?”

“Well, you’re just lame and annoying.” Why does it seem like I’ve totally lost the banter battle here?

Jareth holds out his hand. “Give me the stake.”

Oh, yeah, right. Like I’m going to fall for that one. It may not be finished, but it’s the only weapon I’ve got. I hide it be-hind my back.

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“No effing way.”

Jareth sighs. “Just for a minute.”

“Why? So you can render me completely defenseless and suck me dry?”

“With that as your weapon, you already are completely defenseless, sweetie.” I sigh. I know he’s right. Reluctantly I hand over the stake. Stupid Slayer Inc. for giving me such a pathetic weapon. After all, Buffy the Vampire Slayer got swords and axes and cross-bows. Is that so much to ask for?

Jareth turns the stake around in his hands. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Swiss Army knife. I involun-tarily jump back.

“Relax,” he says. “I’m going to help you carve.” He clicks open the blade and starts running it across the wood, shaving off chunks. I watch, mesmerized, as a pretty nice stake emerges from the mess.

“I am a sculptor by trade,” he explains. “Mostly my carv-ings are of stone, but the principle is the same.” He hands me the stick and knife. “Now you try. Run the blade down, away from you.” I do as he instructs, slicing into the wood.

“No. Like this.” He comes around behind me and takes my hands in his and guides me through the next stroke. “There you go,” he says in my ear.

Now, for the record, I must repeat here that he is, without a doubt, the most annoying vampire in the known universe and I can’t stand him. In fact, if they said he was the last blood mate on earth, I’d choose to remain human just to stay away from him. If he was the last man on earth, I’d turn les-bian. If he was the last person on earth, I’d become a nun.

That said, he really is freaking HOT. And when I feel his cool breath in my ear as he helps me carve, my body totally betrays me and gets all mushy inside. Which is so frustrat-ing! Gah!

“Okay, I, um, think I’ve got it now,” I say, desperate for him to take a step back before I do something really stupid, like turn around and kiss him. “Thanks.”

To my relief (and disappointment if I’m being totally hon-est here) he lets go of my hands and retreats to the bed. He sits down, watching me with his intense blue eyes. I have to force myself not to shiver under his gaze.

Focus on the wood, Rayne. Less thinking, more carving.

“There!” I say about ten minutes later. “How does that look?” I hold the stake up for his perusal. He walks over and takes it from me, examining it with a critical eye. “That’s actually pretty good,” he says, sounding a little too surprised for my liking. But secretly I’m pleased. “You’re a natural.”
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“Natural Born Killahh!” I quip.

He chuckles. “Let’s not get carried away. Just because you can carve a stake, doesn’t mean you can stab someone with it.”

“Gonna teach me that, too?” I tease.

His face darkens. “No.”

The simple word seems to hold a whole lifetime of stories. He’s definitely got to have some deep, dark torment and I’m dy-ing to ask him what it is. But we barely know each other and also there’s that whole thing about how we don’t even like one another to contend with, so I decide to let him off the hook.

“Okay, no biggie,” I say with a shrug. “Thanks for help-ing me carve it though.”

“Not a problem,” he says. “As long as you promise never to use it on me.” I’m about to crack a joke, but he looks too serious at the moment, so I let it go. “It’s a deal,” I say instead.

He smiles. “How about we go into the Post-Bite Lounge for a bit,” he suggests. “See if we can pick up any gossip.”

“Post-Bite Lounge?”

“Yes. You know how after giving blood at the Red Cross you can feel a little light-headed and queasy?

Same thing after being sucked. So they have a lounge where they serve cookies and orange juice to the humans before they send them back into the world.”

“Ah.” Wow, these vamps think of everything, don’t they? “Okay, cool. Let’s lounge it.” I stand up and head toward the door.

“Uh, Rayne?”

I stop and turn around. “Yeah?”

He pauses, then says, “This is going to sound weird, but…”

“Everything is weird at this point. I doubt anything you could say could make it any weirder.” I can see Jareth’s hard swallow from across the room. “You don’t have a bite mark.” Okay. I was wrong. That is definitely weirder.

I cock my head in confusion. “What?”

“You’re undercover as a human who likes being bitten by vampires. You just spent time with a biter. Now we’re going into the Post-Bite Lounge. People might notice that you don’t have any marks on your neck.”

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“Oh.” I reach up and touch my neck. Hm. He’s right. “You think that’ll raise a red flag?”

“I don’t want to take any chances. We can’t blow our cover. This is too important.”

“Right. No. We shouldn’t.” I chew at my lower lip. “But… oh.” I suddenly realize what he’s suggesting. Am I up for that? To be bitten by him? I guess I don’t have a choice, do I? Sacrifices for the cause and all that.

“Come here,” Jareth instructs.

I walk over to the bed and sit down beside him. “Is this gonna hurt?” I ask, realizing I’m trembling. What is wrong with me? I’ve wanted to be bitten by a vampire for like EVER. Now I’m finally getting my chance. Of course, this type of bite won’t turn me into a vampire. You have to be injected with their blood for that. But still… how cool, right?

So why am Isooonervous?

“My fangs have an instant numbing solution that’s in-jected at the moment of penetration. You won’t feel a thing.” “Oh. Okay,” I say, not feeling all that much better for some reason. Jareth reaches over and brushes my hair away from my neck. I suddenly feel open. Exposed. Vulnerable. I swallow hard and close my eyes. I can feel his breath on my neck as he lowers his head. His lips brush lightly against my sensitive skin and I involuntarily let out a shiver.

“Ready?” he whispers softly. I can feel his lips forming the word against my flesh. It’s kind of erotic, to tell you the truth. I bite down on my lower lip.

“Uh huh,” I say, my voice suddenly as squeaky as Sunny’s. Moments later I feel a little pressure on my neck. Just a pinch and then … ecstasy. I am so not going to be able to describe to you guys how awesome it feels to be bitten by a vampire. There aren’t hu-man words. It’s better than Oreo ice cream sliding down your throat on a hot summer’s day. Better than slipping into a steamy bathtub on a crisp fall afternoon. Better than curling up by a fire on a freezing winter’s night.

It’s better than anything I can possibly think of. Not that at that moment there’s much thinking going on in my head. I’m just enjoying. Completely and utterly enjoying the sensa-tions coursing through my veins. It’s heaven. Absolute heaven.

My head lolls backward and I let out a moan of pleasure. “Oh, god,” I cry. “Don’t stop.” But he does. I guess he has to, seeing as he’s not out to drain me dry. Not that I’d have minded being drained dry at that particular moment. In fact, I would have embraced my death with open arms if that sensation were to continue. Now I totally understand why it was easy for vampires to survive in the old days when they didn’t have blood donors.

Once bitten, totally smitten.

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His fangs retract. The electric current zapping through me clicks off like a light switch. The pleasure is gone. The ecstasy evaporates. I feel empty and alone and needy and desperate for more. No wonder this place is so popular. One bite and I already feel completely addicted. I lift my head and open my eyes, looking over at Jareth. He’s wiping his mouth, looking horrified and flushed and flustered beyond belief.

“Uh, there you go. You’re bitten,” he mumbles. He draws in a deep breath and pulls out a handkerchief, dabbing his sweaty forehead. Evidently the experience did something to him as well. Which makes me feel better, in a way. I’d hate to have succumbed to that rapture, only to find him all noncha-lant and superior afterward.

I reach up to feel my neck, pressing my fingers against the tiny bite holes. “That was incredible,” I murmur. “Amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it. Does it always feel that good? Or just the first time?”

“I certainly don’t know,” Jareth says in a totally unwar-ranted grumpy voice. He rises from the bed and walks toward the door. “I was only bitten once. When I was turned.”

“Oh, right. Of course. Well, let me tell you, that totally rocked my world. You’re good at the biteage, dude.”

“I beg of you. Don’t ever, ever call me dude again.”

I sigh. “Sorry. But I was trying to give you a compliment.”

“None necessary. It’s just business. Nothing more.”

“I know, but…” Why do I suddenly feel kind of hurt? He’s right. This was obviously just for the job. To look legit. Nothing more. But still, it felt so intimate… .