Page 23 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Three

He’s mid-drink of a glass of blood and nearly chokes on it when I sidle up to him.

“Me?” He looks behind him.

“Yes, you. Is there another Lance here?”

Lance isn’t a bad looking guy. I’m not exactly sure what his story is, but I don’t think he’s one of the older vampires, otherwise he wouldn’t be a valet.

“I needed a friendly, handsome face,” I tell him. “Can you be my friendly, handsome face, Lance?”

“Ummm…” He clutches at his glass, hand shaking. “I’m not so sure—”

I bat my eyelashes up at him, smile as brightly as I can, and put my hand on his arm, just like Sky did with Bran. Honestly, coming over here I just wanted to make Bran jealous, but now that Lance is bumbling beneath my attention, there is a bright flare of pride igniting at the center of me.

If I have this kind of power, what else can I do with it?

“How long have you been at Duval House?” I ask him, and sip from my drink, elongating my neck as I tip my head back. His eyes immediately zero in on the pulsing artery in my throat.

“1983,” he answers. “I was twenty-six at the time.”

“So that makes you…”

“Sixty-five. I’m sixty-five years old.”

He could be a grandfather right now if his life had turned out differently.

I look back toward the dais and find Sky still talking to Bran, but he’s not looking at her. He’s looking at me. And his eyes are bright, burning gold.

The thrill intensifies and my clit pulses.

Oh fuck.

The absolute satisfaction I’m getting out of this is so fucking wrong.

But…

Lance follows my line of sight. “Oh shit. Bran,” he says, even though we’re a football-field apart and the room is full of the cacophony of the party. “I’m sorry. We were just talking.”

My heart beats harder.

And in the next blink, Bran is gone.

Lance yelps and darts away.

Goosebumps erupt on my skin as that dark flame burns brighter.

He’s going to come for me.

I turn around and run.

I’m like a child that’s just lit a bomb.

And now I’m running away, both terrified and giddy, waiting for it to go off.

There are three side doors to the ballroom and I take the closest one to me. The hallway is empty beyond and the lighting is low with just a few hanging pendant lights sending a halo of golden glow over the polished hardwood floors.

The sound of the party fades behind me as my heart hammers in my head.

When I turn down the next corner, a hand lashes out, grabs me by the arm, and yanks me into a darkened room.

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