Page 10 of Snowed in with the Vampire Prince

He had a very angular, severe face. His nose was thin and proud, his jaw looked hard enough to sharpen a knife on, and there was a cruel set to his mouth that was way more enticing than it should have been. He had dark slashes for eyebrows and, below those, eyes that were the color of amber. Once again, I was struck by the oddness of his eyes. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was a vampire.

Strange, how quickly that fact seemed perfectly normal to me. But I had always known that the young woman who had saved me from the car accident wasn’t human. Just a good Samaritan vampire passing through, apparently.

I frowned, wondering if all vampires had savior complexes. Or maybe being a vampire didn’t change who you were all that much as a person? Like, if you were a good person to start with, maybe you became a good person who happened to just be gifted with extra speed and strength. And a desire to drink your meals.

My gaze dropped to his lips, where a few drops of blood lingered from when he’d bitten his wrist to save my life. And, of course, I’d seen the fangs earlier. They hadn’t been all that scary if I was being perfectly honest. They’d looked like very sharp canine teeth, except maybe a smidge longer than was normal for a human.

My gaze drifted down lower, really letting myself take in his appearance. He was easily two hundred pounds of pure muscle, with broad shoulders and a well-developed chest, the outline of which was distinguishable through his black V-neck cashmere sweater. He wore matching black slacks that fit him way too well for my own good. He looked expensive, annoyed, and dangerous.

“You’re not going back outside tonight, human,” he told me. “Put it out of your head.”

“Stupid vampire,” I grumbled, peeling my gaze away from his body with real effort.

He didn’t reply, but somehow I could tell he was trying to fight back a smile.

That’s great, bud, I thought, moving from annoyed to outright infuriated. Glad I amuse you.

Not trying to be too obvious about it, I scanned the cabin. I hoped to locate another exit, but I found none. It wasn’t necessarily a small space, but there wasn’t a back entrance, and there was only one window next to the door. Besides, the vampire had already proven he could move blindingly fast—he’d catch me regardless.

Though it was all one room, it had a full—albeit small—kitchen. To the left of the front door, there was a circular wooden table with a couple of chairs pushed into it. In the main area was a black leather couch with silver grommets that looked outrageously expensive and matching wing chairs arranged around a fireplace made from shiny black bricks. I had to hand it to the vampire. Total villain aesthetic, but it worked. Tall and narrow espresso-colored bookcases hugged the fireplace on either side, filled with a very neat and orderly collection of books. I bet he even alphabetized them—he looked like the type to be obsessive about the small things.

On the floor in front of the fireplace was a snow-white fur rug that looked an awful lot like it might have once been the skin of a polar bear. Except that it was now dotted red, evidence that he had marched out into the storm and fed me—a total stranger—his blood to save my life. Or my humanity. Whatever.

“What are you even doing out here?” I asked, turning back to him, ready to go on the offensive. “Or do you enjoy the prospect of getting torn apart by a pack of werewolves so much that you just can’t stay away?”

“It’s my death day,” he replied. Then he looked almost surprised at himself like he hadn’t meant to tell me that.

“Your death day,” I repeated, searching his face. From the quick and easy way that he’d said it, I could guess he didn’t mean that he was planning on dying today but rather that this was an established tradition of some sort. Like when someone casually mentions their birthday. But judging by the whole setup, the fireplace, the snow, the seclusion, the glass of red wine on the floor beside one of the armchairs, and the fact he was obviously alone… I intuited that his death day was meant to be a somber affair. Something to be endured alone rather than enjoyed with other people. “The day you were turned into a vampire?”

Raw emotion flashed across his face, so I knew I’d scored a direct hit. Grudgingly, he nodded, still standing between me and the door.

Interesting. My assumption had been right. He was here, alone, on what amounted to his vampire birthday. It clearly wasn’t a celebratory occasion though, which meant that he… what? Had problems with being a vampire? Missed his humanity? That, or maybe he just really, really enjoyed brooding.

I suddenly wasn’t sure how I felt about this line of thought since I wanted to stay infuriated with him.

“I’m sorry I’m interrupting. I feel like I crashed your party.”

Now that I was face to face with him again, I was once again acutely aware that I owed him my life.

“You didn’t mean to get attacked by wolves,” he replied coolly. He added, “I’m tired of calling you ‘human.’ What’s your name?”

“James,” I said immediately, matching his cool tone exactly, once again scanning the room in vain for an exit.

“Just James?” he prompted, sounding annoyed. His eyes followed mine, and it seemed to click with him what I was doing because his expression darkened.

“Yes,” I replied. “And are you just ‘vampire,’ or do you have a name, too?”

“Pierce.”

I smiled. “You don’t look like a Pierce. Maybe like a Vlad or a Demetri or something.”

“That’s offensive,” Pierce scoffed, but he seemed to relax a notch. His eyes were still filled with worry like he thought I might bolt at any moment. He added, “You’re stereotyping me because I’m a vampire.”

“Guilty. Sorry. You’re the first vampire I’ve met. Sort of, at least.”

“Sort of,” he repeated, cocking his head to the side, his amber eyes studying mine intently. “I was wondering if maybe you’d met others like me. You just seem so… calm. I expected you to run for the door when you realized what I was. That’s what any normal person would do.”

“I do want to run for the door,” I reminded him, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “But you’re in the way.”

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