Page 18 of Toadstools and Vampire Kisses

He lets out another sigh. “Yes, yes. You are really going to be miserable about this, aren’t you? Very well. I shall be on my best behavior as a proper guard. Satisfied?”

“Good enough,” I mutter in agreement.

He pauses and cocks his head. “Do you think any from the Algriech coven will make a move on the Durmonts?”

My lips thin worriedly. “I do not know. But that is why we hunt in the late evening. If any come near at all, we will know. So far, things have been silent and I have not caught the scent of any other vampires here, but that can change at any moment.”

Jack looks down at his hands and nods. “I want to let you know that I do appreciate you doing this.” He glances up at me somberly. “Truly. I know that you did not have to stay. And now it looks like you might be the only one of us close to bonding with a witch and I am not sure whether to be jealous and resentful or not since this was not something you even wanted… and yet now that you have, I must pull you away from her every night to keep watch. I am conflicted.”

My anger dissipates in the face of his obvious frustration, and I am forced to remind myself again that my cousin is still young. At one hundred and sixty-three, finding a mate and a greater purpose than simply fulfilling his reckless desires and strong instincts understandably occupies much of his thoughts. Because of that, he does not know how to feel about our current situation in which his responsibility garners little personal reward for him while he must watch another possess that which he desires. I remember that frustration all too well, especially the day I discovered my lack of allure and knowing it could hamper my ability to attract a mate. I often have tasted the bitter draught of disappointment. Jack is simply too young to know that disappointments will often measure in step with achievements, and it is proving a bitter lesson for him.

I grab his shoulder and give it a firm squeeze. “We do not know for sure if I am nesting or not. And if I have been so blessed, it does not reflect poorly on you that you did not find the same. If you truly desire a mate, I am certain that you will find her at the right time, and she will be perfect for you in every way.”

He gives me a wry smile with a lopsided flash of fang. “What you mean to say is that you are certain that it will be a female who will drive me as crazy as I make everyone else.”

“But of course,” I scoff. “I trust that she will make it quite the chase for you.”

Jack gives me a disbelieving look, but he chuckles. “Then it is sure to not be dull. Very well, cousin. I will keep that in mind, and I really hope that she is the one for you. After everything, you deserve happiness more than anyone else in our coven.”

I pause a warmth of emotion flooding my heart. I give his arm another squeeze and rise. “I will see to my bathing now. You’d best see what sort of costume you can acquire. Maybe if none of the witches recognize you, it will give you a better shot.”

His bark of laughter makes me grin as I leave him sitting on the bed as I adjourn to our private bathroom. With any witnesses to my disgust, I shudder as I strip off the damp material, allowing it to fall to the floor with a graceless wet slap. I hate to ask Edward to clean up after me since he is not a house servant, but I cannot abide touching the clothing any further. I tried to ignore it, imagining it was merely something as natural as blood, but wet blood does not have that terrible musky smell that a pumpkin has, nor does it have the heavy, slick texture of the gourd’s innards. I am more than pleased to have it off me and hopefully not touch it again until next Hallows’ Eve if possible.

And I will only do so at all if it means that Fran’s delight will be my reward.

Turning on the shower—a marvel of this age I cannot get enough of—I step inside and sigh happily as warm water cascades over me. As tempting as it is to linger beneath the spray, I am more eager to return to Fran. For that reason, within minutes I step out from the shower as I wring out my hair, the subtle scent of lavender and musk from my soap caressing my skin. Grabbing a soft towel, I proceed to dry myself as I leave the bathroom, my mind already firmly on my attire for the night.

Tonight, in light of the festive mood, I am thinking of the russet vest and jacket. Most of my wardrobe is black by preference, but the russet and another outfit of deep sapphire are the two exceptions. I smile as I imagine how Fran might react to seeing me in a more autumnal apparel for the dance. Thankfully, centuries of practice makes dressing a quick affair as my proficiency with my corset was obtained many years ago. I don’t pull it waspishly tight as some of the dandies did before my sleep, but simply a refined symmetry that I find pleasing to the eye.

Suitably dressed, I leave our room but not before penning a brief note for Edward asking him to see to my clothing with a monetary thanks enclosed for the inconvenience. Jack is nowhere to be seen, but I imagine that he has recruited Edward to help him find some sort of costume. Regardless, it allows me to leave the room in blessed peace to make my way through the halls to the main wing where Fran resides. I am as nervous as a juvenile vampire at his first solo feeding when I finally stand before her door. Swallowing down my nerves, I lift a hand and rap the wood, and am gratified when it opens to her beautiful smile.

The door widens to give me entrance, and my heart thuds in my chest at the sight of her decked in an unmistakable costume of witchery, right to the old style of the breweress’s hat adorned with orange ribbons and small decorative spiders that sits at an angle on her head. In response, I feel heat rush up through me with a pulsing desire. I need to feel her mouth pull at my flesh, sucking my essence and joining us as my body sustains and claims hers. My cock swells with that overwhelming instinct, and my mouth goes dry as I follow her inside.

If she is not the one, then surely the gods themselves have played me a fool.

ChapterThirteen

FRAN

Good gods. For a moment I forget to breathe as I stare at Reynard appreciatively. As it is, it’s a miracle that I remember to step out of the way to let him in. Reynard doesn’t merely step into a room—he dominates the space and yet looks nowhere else but me, as if I am the most important thing. It does funny things to my pulse. I don’t recall him having such an overwhelming presence the last time he was in my room. Of course, last time he was in here was with his cousin, and it had been an emergency situation with Reynard seated on the bed beside Jack rather than filling the room as if he owns it.

He smooths a hand down his vest and coat and smiles down at me. “What do you think?”

What I think is that I would much rather peel it off him and see how it looks on my floor. Or rather, how he looks reclining on my bed without it.

“Very nice,” I say instead and nearly cringe at just how that sounds the second it’s out of my mouth.

Niceis such a low-level compliment—I might as well have just congratulated him on being dressed. Rather than be upset with my meager compliment, his smile broadens, showing plenty of fang as he grins down at me with pleasure. That smile nearly makes my knees weak. He really is the complete package. As handsome as he is sweet, he is devastatingly good-looking in the russet paired with black rather than the black and charcoal grays I’ve seen him in before. It’s a funny coincidence seeing him in that considering the costume I’ve selected for him. That in mind, I perk up and hurry over to the bed. He leans in as I pass and… Did he just sniff me?

“It’s perfect, actually. It will go excellently with what I’ve found for you,” I babble as I pick up the fox mask from the bed.

Reynard’s dark brows arch and he walks over to me, his gaze dropping on the carved mask in my hands. His full lips curve with amusement as he looks down at it and chuckles.

“I am to be a fox then?”

I flush a little, realizing how ridiculous my choice is for a grown man. “I know it’s a silly play on your name, but it was the first thing that came to mind, and I happened to have this mask in my chest of treasures.”

He lifts his eyes to meet mine, and something glimmers in their depths. “Ah, a treasure. Do not mistake my amusement, Fran. I find the choice charming and would be delighted to be the fox to your witch.”

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