The Vampire's Submissive

The Vampire’s Submissive

By Violet Gray

Text copyright © 2013 Violet Gray

All Rights Reserved

Cover art by Niina Cord /
http://niinascoverdesign.weebly.com 

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual
people or places is purely coincidental.

Dedication

To Niina Cord. I’m your biggest fan.

The author acknowledges the following trademarks:

GQ
magazine

The streetlamp
flickered and popped, plunging the corner of the cobbled sidewalk into
darkness.
Creepy much?
Katy Foster locked the door to Bebe’s Bookshop
and peered over her shoulder. The fine hairs at the nape of her neck prickled.
“Stop it. You’re being silly, Katy,” she chastised herself under her breath.

The scent of
coffee and pie wafted through the air. Maybe she could dart into Moe’s across
the street and scare away the heebie jeebies with a mocha and a slice of pecan
pie. No, she needed to get home. That paper on gender roles in contemporary
romance literature wouldn’t write itself. The street lamps flickered and a
whiff of cigarette smoke irritated her sinuses, but she didn’t see anyone.
Moving quickly, she walked toward the city parking lot, suddenly desperate to
be safe inside her little red banger.

Nothing bad
ever happened in Sweetwater.

Oh, damn,
now she’d done it
. Anytime a character in a book said those words,
something bad inevitably happened. Shuddering, she tightened her grip on her
car keys and shivered in spite of the wool coat wrapped around her size
eighteen frame. Where was everyone tonight? The street was terribly quiet, even
if it was ten o’clock on a Monday night. She neared the alley between
Sweetwater Hardware and Billy’s Guitar Shop.

Smoke, thick
and putrid, curled and danced its way out of the alley. Okay, that was weird.
Hurrying, she held her breath and dashed past the opening to the alley. An arm
snaked out of the smoke and grabbed her around the throat. In her mind, she was
screaming, but no sound escaped. He dragged her backwards into the alley, and
she gagged as his oily, filthy scent invaded her nostrils. Oh, god, she was
going to die. He threw her onto the ground and knelt over her, pressing a knife
against her neck. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Please! Let
me go!”

He laughed.
“You ain’t going nowhere. You’re a fat one, but I don’t mind.” He reached down
and pressed his hand against her knee.

She scooted
backward, a scream finally breaking free. “Help me!”

“Shut up!”

He hit her
across the face and she saw stars flash behind her eyelids. The dirty ground
scraped against her legs, bared by her cute floaty deep red skirt. She’d made
it herself. It would be ruined.

“No,” she
whimpered, disbelieving this was happening to her. A nightmare. She was caught
in a nightmare. “Help me! Oh, god, help me!” He struck her again.

In the moment
before blackness consumed her, she thought she saw Jackson Wainwright’s perfect
face.

Jackson
Wainwright heard the cries for help from several blocks away. Taking off at a
run, his nightly jog for serenity forgotten, he followed the sound of her
pleas. She sounded familiar.
Keep calling, baby. Keep calling
. Her cries
would distract her attacker, giving him the element of surprise. Not that he
actually needed it. His incisors had descended the moment her first plea for
help had pierced the night. He ran past Bebe’s and he knew he’d found her. He
could smell her sweet scent. The dark curling smoke gave him a moment’s pause.
Non-human. Probably demon. And not the gentlemanly sort like his best friend,
William. He heard him hit her and then he was on him, just as she fell back
against the ground, her head striking the filthy asphalt.

Sonofabitch.

Jackson
wrapped one arm around the demon’s chest and used his other hand to rip the beast’s
head from his shoulders. For a heartbeat, the head glared at him, then head and
body transformed into ash. Wiping the disgusting soot from his hands onto his
shorts, he knelt beside her. He recognized her beautiful, heart shaped face at
once.

Katy.

Dammit
.

She was
unconscious but breathing. The demon had bloodied her lip and a huge bruise had
already begun to form on her right cheekbone. He didn’t want to frighten her,
but he needed to get her out of there in case the thing had friends lurking about.
He could take her home, doctor her up. Or, he could take her to the hospital.
Much as he wanted to keep her close by, he knew she might be frightened if she
woke up in his home.

They were
passing acquaintances, seeing as how he shopped often in Bebe’s. Always at
night. He’d admired her from afar for two years but something about her kept
him from asking her out. Her fragility perhaps. A docile flower like Katy
wouldn’t be comfortable with his dark needs.

Hospital, he
decided.

Lifting her
easily into his arms, he held her close, trying not to notice her lush breast
pressed against his chest. Fail. Her thick wavy blonde hair--he’d bet it was
natural--flowed over his arm and down her back. Thank god he’d gotten to her in
time. If that bastard had succeeded in hurting her, Jackson would have spent a
great deal more time killing him. As it was, the sonofabitch was lucky he’d
killed him quick.

Walking two
streets over and then three more blocks north, the hospital came into view. He
headed straight for the emergency entrance and recognized Kyle Porter, the
night guard. “Kyle, this is Katy Foster. She was attacked in the alley between
Billy’s and the hardware store.”

“Goddamnit,”
Kyle muttered, holding the door open for Jackson. “Did you catch the guy who
did it?”

“He got away
while I was checking on her,” Jackson said, the lie rolling off his tongue.

“The police
will want a statement.”

“Yeah, I’ll
hang around.” Fisting his hands at his sides, he wished he could kill the demon
all over again.

The police
came and took his statement, along with his description of her attacker. Should
he go home, or should he wait and see if she needed a ride? Would they keep her
overnight? Was she conscious? The questions crowded his brain but none could
quiet the rage, the innate urge to kill. He needed to talk to Alexander, head
of the vampire council for Mississippi. Alexander needed to know about the
attack as well as the very real possibility that more demons had descended on
the small Southern town. Jackson ran a hand through his mussed dark brown hair.
If only they would tell him something, let him know she was okay.

“Mr.
Wainwright?” A nurse beckoned him. She led him through a secure door, and he
followed her past several curtained rooms. When she stopped, he drew a subtle
breath. Mixed with the strong odor of antiseptic was Katy’s unique scent.
Wildflowers and a summer breeze.

 “She’s
asking for you,” the nurse said. “It’s against policy seeing as you aren’t
family, but she’s become rather vocal.”

Katy? Vocal?
That didn’t sound right. She was so soft spoken at the bookshop. “She
recognized me in the alley? I wasn’t sure.”

“Yes, she knew
you were the one who saved her. She wants to thank you. Since she doesn’t have
any next of kin for us to call, we can have a police officer take her home…”

“I’ll do it.”

The nurse
nodded, satisfied Katy would be in good hands, and walked briskly to the desk
in the center of the ER.

He pulled back
the curtain and stepped inside the small room. Her mouth looked much better now
that the blood had been cleaned off. How he’d managed not to bite her earlier,
he had no idea. Fear and rage must have drowned out the hunger. Plus, he’d
eaten bagged blood a few hours before, so he’d been sated when he found her.

“Katy?” he
whispered. Her eyes were closed.

She opened
them and tried to smile. “Ouch,” she said, touching her fingers to her injured
mouth.

“Are you all
right? Oh, god, that’s a stupid question. Of course, you’re not all right.
You’ve had a terrible scare.”

“It would’ve
been worse, Jackson, if you hadn’t stopped him. I thought it was you…I wasn’t
certain…I only saw you for a moment and then everything went black. Did you
catch him? The man who tried to…I’m sorry, I can’t say it.”

He moved to
stand beside her and brushed a curl from her forehead. “You don’t have to say
it, Katy. No, I didn’t catch him, but they will. I gave a good description.
Katy?”

“Yes?”

Damn but her
blue eyes were the most beautiful he’d ever seen. “Do you have a roommate?”

She shook her
head. “No, I live in my Aunt Agatha’s house over on Cherry. When she died a
couple of years ago, she left the house to me. That’s when I moved here.”

He nodded. “I
ask, because I don’t think you should be alone right now. You’re safe, of course,
but I’d feel better knowing you weren’t alone. Is there someone you could
call?”

“Oh, I don’t
want to bother anyone, and I don’t have family here. Or anywhere for that
matter.” She wrapped her arms around herself protectively.

“The way I see
it, you’ve got two options.” He held up a finger. “One. Stay at my place for a
few days.” He held up two fingers. “Two. Let me stay at your house. Just so
you’re not alone while you’re recovering.”

She shook her
head. “Oh, but, Jackson, I don’t want to be any trouble…”

Typical
Southern response. Tucking his hands in his front pockets, he shifted his
weight onto one leg and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “It’s
settled then. We’ll go by your place so you can pick up some of your things,
then you’ll stay with me. A week minimum.”

She smiled
ever so slightly and nodded her head before letting it flop back on the pillow,
exhausted. “Thank you, Jackson.”

Anything
for you
, he wanted to say, but he didn’t dare. Now, here’s hoping he could
keep his hands—and his teeth—to himself.

At her house,
he watched her fill a suitcase with clothes. He flinched when he saw the
virginal white cotton nightie she tucked in next to her underthings. Was she a
virgin? He’d never asked her age, but she looked to be in her mid-twenties. She
piled some books in with the clothes and toiletries. Zipping it up, she went to
lift it off the bed.

“Oh, no, you
don’t. I’ve got it.” He lifted it easily. “Anything else?”

“Just my
laptop.” She reached for the small bag.

“Ready then?”

She nodded and
he placed a hand at the small of her back. Once in his car, she rested her head
against the seat. “I should call Bebe and ask her if I can have tomorrow off.
I…I don’t think I’m ready to face the world just yet. Is that bad?”

“No, Katy. You
know your limits, and I’m sure Bebe will be more than understanding.”

“You’re
right.” She reached inside her purse and pulled out a phone. He listened as she
explained her situation to her boss. When she ended the call, she looked at him
and smiled. “It’s fine. She wants me to take two days. More if I need it.”

“Good.” He
longed to reach out and wrap his arm around her shoulder, but he didn’t dare.
He couldn’t bear the thought of frightening her.

They pulled up
to his house, a Civil War era white-washed beauty set on a hundred acres of
forested land. He lived on the edge of town. He liked it that way. People
didn’t tend to notice when he didn’t go out during the day.

Inside, he
directed her to a guest room, conveniently located next to his, in case she
needed anything, he told her.

“It’s lovely,
Jackson,” she told him, as she set her purse on the dresser.

He laid her
suitcase on the bed so she could unpack. “Are you hungry?” Damn, he’d forgotten
to buy food.

“A little. A
sandwich would be nice, but I’ll fix it myself.” She tucked a strand of golden
blonde hair behind her pretty little ear.

He tried not
to think about the vein pulsing in her neck.

“Nonsense. You
unpack and rest and I’ll bring it up in a bit.” After he’d run…literally…to the
store. Thank goodness the grocery stayed open late.

Half an hour
later, he tapped on the open door.

“Come in,” she
said.

Those two
little words sent frissons of pleasure to his groin. God, he wanted her, wanted
to devour her plump lips, tease her pretty breasts, and fill her to bursting
with his cock. He drew a steadying breath. “Dinner is served.” He carried the
tray to the bed and set it on her lap. “I hope tea is okay to drink.” He’d
bought a gallon ready-made.

“Perfect.
Thank you, Jackson.” She took a sip of sweet tea.

He made to
back out of the room.

“Jackson? Do
you mind staying? I don’t think…what I mean is…I don’t feel comfortable being
by myself right now.”

He nodded and
settled himself into a chair and watched her eat. She sucked on a strawberry
and he nearly came in his pants. “You like strawberries? I wasn’t sure.”

“They’re my
favorite fruit. Want one?” She held one out.

“No thank you.
Those are all yours. I ate earlier.”

When she’d
finished her meal, he took the tray downstairs and washed the dishes. What
would he do if she asked him to stay in her room for the rest of the night? Not
that there was much night left, of course. “Jackson?”

He turned to
find her standing in the middle of his kitchen.

“I’m tired but
I don’t think I can sleep. Would it be too much trouble…would you mind staying
with me?”

She had no
idea. No clue how much he wanted to possess her, to seduce her, to drive into
her wet slit and mark her as his own.

“Of course,
Katy. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” How he managed to sound calm and
unaffected, he had no clue.

“Thank you,
Jackson. Again.”

He nodded and
tried to smile.

When he
entered her room, the lamp beside the bed was on, casting a warm glow in the
room. “Do you mind if I leave the light on?” she asked.

“No, of course
not. Whatever you need.” How was he supposed to lie beside her and not touch
her? He didn’t sleep. Ever. He clenched his fists at his sides, determined to
still the desire raging inside of him.

She snuggled
deeper under the covers. He wore shorts and a T-shirt. He didn’t think she
would want him to climb in the bed as he usually slept…naked as the day he was
born.

“Are you
sure?” He wanted to be certain this was what she wanted.

She nodded,
her eyes drooping sleepily. He wondered if she was wearing the virginal nightgown.
He couldn’t see under the quilt. She was burrowed that deeply. Lifting the
covers, he caught a glimpse of the gown and nearly groaned. Her lush breasts
peeked over the top of the bodice, and he could see her rosy pink nipples
through the cotton fabric. He climbed into the bed, leaving plenty of room
between them.

“Jackson?” Her
soft voice felt like sandpaper on his nerves.

“Yes, baby?”
The endearment slipped off his tongue.

She blushed.
“Can I cuddle?”

Oh, hell. He
was toast. He pulled her against him, gently, and she settled her cheek against
his chest. “Thank you,” she murmured before she drifted off to sleep. Moments
later, in her sleep, she moved her leg, draping it over his. He groaned. His
hard-on raged.

Katy Foster
would be the second death of him.