Page 2 of Her Vampire Hero

"'Fang-tastic Dentistry'?" Jenny read aloud, squinting at a sign featuring a grinning cartoon tooth with suspiciously pointed canines. "Cute. Real cute."

She continued down the street, her disbelief growing with each step. 'Fur-ever Grooming' boasted a neon sign with a wolf's silhouette, its fur seeming to ripple in the flickering light. 'The Midnight Brew' was the only normal-sounding name, but even it had an odd symbol etched into its window—something that looked unsettlingly like a pentagram.

"I've got to hand it to the Beastly Falls Tourism Board," Jenny muttered. "They really commit to a theme."

There was a lot of people out and about this late. She checked her phone. Still no signal, but it was 9 p.m. Didn’t small towns roll up the sidewalks at sundown? As she walked, she became aware of the eyes following her. Pedestrians stopped in their tracks, conversations dying mid-sentence as she passed. In the reflection of a shop window, she caught a glimpse of glowing yellow eyes and pointed ears before their owner ducked out of sight.

"Okay, listen up!" Jenny spun around, addressing the gawking crowd. "I get it. Small town, new face, everyone's curious. But the staring? Super creepy. So unless one of you fine folks wants to point me toward a mechanic or a phone I can use, how about we all just go about our business?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Then, slowly, a path cleared in the crowd. At the end of it stood a man—at least, Jenny thought it was a man. He was easily seven feet tall, with biceps the size of her thighs and what appeared to be... fur? Growing out of his collar?

"You smell different," the man-mountain rumbled, his nostrils flaring as he approached.

Jenny took an instinctive step back. "Uh, thanks? I think? Look, big guy, I'm flattered, but I'm really not in the market for whatever brand of weird you're selling. I just need a phone and maybe a tow truck."

The crowd had begun to press in closer, murmuring amongst themselves. Jenny caught snatches of their conversations, none of which did anything to calm her rising panic.

"...new blood...”

"...the curse..."

"...who's her mate?"

"All right, that's it." Jenny held up her hands, her voice rising an octave. "What is going on here? Is this some kind of creepy costume party? Because if so, you guys win. A+ for commitment. Now can someone please explain what the hell is happening?"

The man-mountain took another step forward, looming over her. "You're in Beastly Falls now, little human. And you can't leave."

Jenny's mind raced, processing the impossible scene before her. The weird shop names, the glowing eyes, the talk of curses and mates... It was like she'd stumbled into the unholy lovechildof Twilight and The Truman Show. This was not the reality show she was supposed to be interviewing for.

"Oh, hell no," she said, backing away. "I do not have time for this lack of sleep hallucination or whatever games my mind is playing on me. I have an interview in three days that's going to change my life, and I am not letting some small-town cult derail my career plans." Jenny backed away from the fur-covered mountain of muscle looming over her. The crowd of supernatural onlookers pressed closer. She'd faced down plenty of handsy customers and condescending coworkers in her time, but this? This was a whole new level of what-the-actual-hell.

"Look," she said, forcing a nervous laugh. "How about we just pretend this never happened, and I'll be on my merry way?"

The werewolf—because apparently that's what she was dealing with now—growled low in his throat. "You don't understand, little human. You're here for a reason. You're meant to be someone's mate."

Jenny's eyebrows shot up. "Mate? Listen, Fido, I don't know what kind of kinky roleplaying you've got going on here, but I am nobody's 'mate.' The only thing I'm mated to is my wrench set, and that's a strictly platonic relationship."

She took another step back, her eyes darting around for an escape route. But the crowd had formed a tight circle around them, effectively cutting off any chance of a quick getaway. Great. Just great. She was trapped in some bizarre Twilight Zone episode, complete with hot werewolf action. If she ever got out of this, she was never watching late-night sci-fi marathons again.

The werewolf's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply again. "You smell special. You must be mine."

"Okay, first of all, ew," Jenny said, holding up her hands. "Second, I hate to break it to you, big guy, but the only thing special about my smell right now is eau de rain and engine grease. Not exactly Chanel No. 5."

She glanced around desperately, hoping to spot someone—anyone—who looked even remotely sane. But all she saw were more impossibly beautiful faces, some with pointed ears, others with glowing eyes, all watching the unfolding drama with rapt attention.

The werewolf took another step forward, his massive form blocking out the streetlight behind him. "You don't have a choice, little human. The town has chosen you. You're mine now."

Jenny's back hit a lamppost, the cold metal seeping through her damp clothes. Panic clawed at her throat, but she forced it down. She'd be damned if she was going to let some overgrown lapdog see (or smell!) her fear.

"Listen here, Lassie," she snapped, jabbing a finger at his broad chest. "I don't know what kind of backwards, misogynistic bullshit you're trying to pull, but let me make one thing crystal clear. I. Am. Not. Yours. I don't belong to anyone but myself, and if you think for one second that I'm going to roll over and play submissive little mate to your alpha dog routine, you've got another think coming."

The werewolf's eyes flashed dangerously, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Jenny's bravado wavered. Maybe antagonizing the giant supernatural creature wasn't her smartest move. But before she could reconsider her life choices, a smooth voice cut through the tension like a knife through butter.

"I believe the lady has made her position quite clear, Grayson. Perhaps it's time you backed down."

Chapter Two

The crowd parted, revealing a man who looked like he'd just stepped out of a Gothic romance novel. Tall, lean, with skin as pale as moonlight and eyes that glowed with an inner fire. His dark hair was artfully tousled, as if he'd just rolled out of bed after a particularly passionate night. Not that Jenny was noticing things like that. Nope. Not at all.

---