Page 53 of Your Coffin or Mine
“No, but it doesn’t surprise me. The villagers have always been a superstitious lot.” In fact, the humans very rarely get the truth about the supernatural right. But perhaps I should look into these movies.
Her shoulders bunch and excitement lines her being as she practically vibrates with eagerness. “Oh my gosh, we basically would have like a dinner party, maybe some dancing, and invite a bunch of people. It would help put this place on the map.”
“I will think about it.”
She makes little fists and shakes them, bouncing and dancing in her seat. “Eeeeek, awesome. Also, I’ve been meaning to askyou if you mind me putting the photos of you on my Insta too. Be warned, though, you may get bombarded by all the thirsty women.”
“Thirsty women?”
She frowns for a moment, as if taken aback. “It’s just a saying. Jesus, I swear sometimes it’s like you weren’t even born in this century. Thirsty because you’re hot, attractive. A tall glass of water?”
I lean across the table and twist a soft curl of her hair around my finger, enjoying how her smell deepens. “Do you find me attractive, Aubrey?”
Her chest rises as she takes a deep breath in. “I think that’s pretty clear.”
I cup the back of her neck and pull her to me, whispering my lips against hers teasingly. “I find myself very thirsty for you as well.”
Her cheeks pinken as she blushes, and the pulse at her neck takes up its alluring dance. Her scent rises and I kiss her, groaning into her mouth almost instantly. It doesn’t seem to matter how many blood bags I consume... I want her regardless.
One whiff of her and my cock and fangs rise to attention so quickly it should be criminal.
Chapter 18
VLAD
This woman will bethe death of me.
“She’s going to kill me. My tombstone will read: Vlad Tepesh, ended by fucking garlic.”
I cross my arms over my chest, place the side of my fist over my lips, and pace.
If I had just declined, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. Her offer to feed me is something I have not experienced, and it’s obvious the meal is special to her.
She’s turning me into a weakling. A garlic-eating weakling.
“Why are we whispering in a pantry closet?” Doyle asks, looking around the small room lined with wooden shelves full of food and provisions. The “closet” is massive, with stores of goods, and has a secret hatch into the underground tunnels. One I have half a mind to throw him down at the moment.
My fist opens, and I slap my face into my palm, growling at myself. “Because I can’t think around her, obviously.”
I groan at the overpowering smell permeating the kitchen. The thought of her wanting to cook for me has a strange sensation coursing through my body, because she would do this for me, but the fear of death is not an obstacle easily overcome.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Doyle, there’s enough garlic in that dish to kill every vampire in Europe.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and lifts a brow. “Youarethe only vampire in Europe.”
“Exactly what I just fucking said.”
He blows out an exasperated breath and shrugs. “So just tell her you don’t want any.” His eyebrows pinch together and his face twists into a look that saysyou’re an idiot. “Why are you making this complicated?”
It’s unheard of that I would allow anyone, much less a human, to cook for me. Wine is usually the only thing I imbibe other than blood. That I’m allowing her to make me a meal laced with garlic is absurd, and yet here we are.
I pace some more. “Because I’ve never had a woman want to cook for me, Doyle.”
“Technically, it could kill you,” he remarks, jutting a finger in my direction.
“But she doesn’t know that.”
