Page 6 of Snowed in with the Vampire Prince

Another lie. It was actually his scent that was making it hard to focus. The blood had very little to do with it. But I needed a minute to myself to decide what, exactly, I was going to do next. I needed a minute alone without being in danger of meeting those big golden-brown eyes and giving in to the temptation this young man represented.

I expected him to argue, but he hadn’t done anything I’d expected him to do thus far, so naturally, he didn’t do that either. He stood quickly, wobbling for only a moment—but long enough for me to dart into a standing position and steady him without even deciding to. The bare skin of his chest burned beneath the cool skin of my hands.

I expected him to flinch away at my touch. Instead, he met my gaze and gave me a small, encouraging smile. “We could shower together. If you want.” He suggested it just like that. Bold as you please.

My jaw must have dropped open because he added, sounding smug, “You were looking at my body way too hard, so I know you’ve got to be into guys. Or, at least, you’re clearly into me.”

“Definitely not!” I snapped, even though I was extremely tempted, the wheels in my head already spinning in less than helpful directions. I added, halfheartedly trying to scare him, “I was looking at your jugular because I’m a vampire, and I drink blood, you ass.”

It wouldn’t have held up in court. I can tell you that right now.

It was clear he didn’t believe me either, but after a long moment of both of us waiting for me to change my mind, he sighed and then gave me a half-shrug. “Okay, suit yourself.”

Then he turned and trotted off in the direction I’d pointed out earlier. I watched him vanish into the bathroom, glowering at his retreating form. My glower deepened even further when he didn’t even bother to close the door all the way, a clear invitation in case I changed my mind.

All I wanted was to be alone on my death day, the one day of the year that I took for myself. And this young man—I realized I still didn’t even know his name—was going to make that impossible. Worse, it was as clear as day that he was going to be nothing but trouble.

And, like it or not, between the snowstorm—which a quick peek at my window told me had now become a full-blown blizzard—and the wolves that undoubtedly still lurked somewhere outside, if I wanted to continue saving this young man’s life, that meant I had no choice. I was stuck in this cabin with him, at least for the immediate future.

Chapter 4

James

Idecided to throw myself to the wolves—quite literally—halfway through my shower.

The vampire’s bathroom was about as nice as you’d expect. I’d already gathered from his expensive clothes and even more expensive furniture—not to mention his attitude problem in general—that he was rich. His cabin didn’t have a ‘sketchy mountain man log cabin’ vibe. It was much more of a ‘designer log cabin straight out of an expensive catalog’ sort of aesthetic. His bathroom was no exception. There were black marble counters, black and red tiled floors that were heated, a glass-encased shower that was almost like standing under the warm summer rain, and a collection of bath products that must’ve cost at least a hundred dollars a bottle.

I used them with gleeful abandon, feeling more and more resentful toward the vampire with each passing moment. I’d left the door to the bathroom wide open, hoping that he might change his mind and come join me. And he didn’t, even though it was perfectly clear from the way he’d sized up my body—more than once, I might add—that he was very interested in me, at least on a purely physical level.

About halfway through my shower though, I started to feel more… normal. More like myself. And therefore, my resentment was increasingly mixed with a grudging feeling of gratitude that he hadn’t taken me up on my offer.

What was I even doing?

I had come here to grieve my father. Then I got bitten by wolves. Actual werewolves. I still couldn’t wrap my head around that.

I don’t know why it should have surprised me so much to find that werewolves existed. It didn’t surprise me in the least to know that vampires existed, because one of them had saved my life once.

I hadn’t known exactly what was happening at the time, of course. I’d been seventeen years old, and I’d gotten into a car wreck that should have killed me. A drunk driver had swerved into my lane and hit my car head-on when I’d been coming home from a friend’s house. My car had been crushed like a tin can, but the driver’s side door had been found a good fifteen feet away from the car, with the hinges a mess of twisted metal, like it had been torn off with great force and then thrown.

The first responders had found me laid out gently on the side of the highway, as far from the oncoming traffic as possible. My hands had been folded across my chest and I hadn’t had a single scratch on me, even though my clothing was completely covered in blood. The taste of tangy-sweet copper had lingered in my mouth, and it had been just like waking up with this strange vampire’s blood in my mouth.

I had one single memory of my rescuer. A raven-haired girl with brown skin who looked to be about fourteen or fifteen. But instead of being dark, her eyes were a deep shade of reddish gold that seemed to almost glow with an inner light. And her teeth had been needle-point sharp. Just like the handsome vampire in the other room.

Which meant she’d been a vampire too.

But she had looked down at me with concern, instead of bloodlust. “You’ll be okay,” she whispered softly. “I called for help. When they get here, tell them you crawled away from the car. Don’t tell them I was here.”

Fading in and out of consciousness, I’d merely nodded. Then she’d gone, so quickly that she might have simply vanished into thin air.

All these years, I’d wondered if it was a dream. Now, I knew that it wasn’t.

Looking back on it, I was now certain that the vampire who had saved my life then had given me some of her blood to heal my injuries. Which meant that my life had already been saved once before by a vampire. That probably explained my non-reaction to this vampire, the total lack of fear response I should likely be having. My subconscious probably already knew what I was just consciously becoming aware of: vampires weren’t the bad guys in my story. They were the heroes.

And then, tonight, the moment I’d realized I was a goner, I had been saved by a vampire yet again. Granted, he was no gentle dark-haired wraith girl with strange eyes, but a very solid, very present, very pushy vampire with an attitude problem. And I was stuck here with him.

And I was throwing myself at him, apparently.

Why was I doing that?

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