Page 8 of Toadstools and Vampire Kisses

Hold him when in need, is it?I smile and tug him along with me further into the ballroom, our miscommunication set aside. He relaxes gradually as we walk among the revelers until he is peering about with an eager fascination that is quite sweet. It is indulgence I rarely see among other adults, and even less frequently among men that I’ve met.

I have to admit, though, our coven is outdoing themselves this year. Perhaps it is because we have visiting dignitaries from the local vampire queen, but I can’t recall our pre-parties looking anything like this. Even though the first day is always a day for preparation, it is a party in itself.

All around there are couples and little groups dressed in their best and socializing as they work on creating the decorations that will last until the ball next week. The younger children run around the room dressed as all manner of fae, and Eleanor watches over them indulgently as she hangs dark sashes and veils. Mother makes her rounds through the room, doling out praise and admiration under the watchful eye of a behemoth ginger wearing a thoughtful, though intimidating, expression. Adeon, I presume, though we haven’t yet been introduced since he was absent when the festivities began.

Reynard slows, and we pause to admire a small operation set up on a far table where a candy apple line has been put together to concoct the sweet treats. My cousin George and his husband Ben are supervising the older children there, along with my cousin Marianne. Three adults hardly seem enough for a dozen kids ranging between twelve and sixteen who can collectively test the patience of a saint, but they volunteer every year.

“You were saying?” I prod, giving his arm a small squeeze.

He smiles down at me, and as we begin to walk again, I marvel again at how much it changes his appearance. He seems so ostentatious, bordering on insulting at times—especially when we first met—and definitely way, way out of my league with his perfectly manicured appearance, but when he smiles there’s something almost boyish about it.

“The abilities of a vampire depend a lot on individual bloodlines. We all excel at a form of glamour that makes us blend in with humans as you see,” he says, gesturing to himself. “And there are other typically common abilities that we share, but there are traits that are exclusive to very particular bloodlines.” He hesitates, and I have the feeling that he’s weighing how much to tell me.

I give his arm another squeeze, hoping that communicates to him that it’s okay that he can’t divulge all his race’s secrets.

“Bloodlines, huh. Is that based on who turned you?” I ask, captivated.

He blinks, and another small smile teases at the corners of his mouth. “I sometimes forget what odd notions humans have about us. We are not ‘turned.’ We have never been human at all. We are born vampires and just have incredibly long lifespans. Those you consider turned are usually those humans who are blood bonded to us and something happens to interrupt the bond, which causes the individual to go feral to survive on their own.”

A stark tension appears around his eyes and mouth as his expression turns grim. “I tell you this because it is important to know that generally vampires do not seek to harm humans, and it grieves us deeply to destroy one who is bonded and loved by one of our kind. Unfortunately, it is an unpleasant business that we are often forced to deal with when they are separated from their bonded and begin slaughtering people. I fear it is those poor creatures that humans tend to confuse with us as much as they confuse our bloodlines into a single supernatural entity.”

I stare up at him, a bit overwhelmed. I never thought it would be that complicated. My thoughts hitch on one important, glaring point, however.

“You said typically. Does that mean that there are vampires who go out of their way to hurt humans?” I ask apprehensively.

His mouth tightens perceptively. Drawing to a halt, he pulls his arm from my grasp and turns to face me. Staring down at me from his greater height, his pale eyes fixed on me, there’s something so inhuman about his stillness in that moment that my skin prickles and a shiver runs through me. Something shifts within his eyes, and he sighs.

“Do not look at me that way,” he murmurs.

“What way?” I ask, my voice barely above whisper.

Everything about that moment feels heightened. I can feel the tension running through me that has relaxed only minimally, and the world seems to go around us in its hurried pace as people continue to mingle. Despite the numerous people in the ballroom, it feels as if we are standing there completely alone, everything else fading into a background cadence that barely seems to matter. Is this what has attracted humans to vampires?

“Like you think I am going to pounce on you.” His lips curve, though there is no humor in that sculpted smile.

I stare up at him, aware of a warmth suddenly flooding through me. Wait, weren’t we just talking about vampires harming humans? Then why is my imagination dragging up illicit images with those words?

“You’re not supposed to be doing this,” I pant.

His brows draw down in confusion, and I feel like an idiot as he takes one step away from me. “I assure you that I am doing nothing.”

Oh, gods.Why this—why now? All I know is that it isn’t his complete lack of seductive charm and finesse that’s doing it. Even now, with me practically panting after him, he’s staring at me like I just turned into a toad and sprouted a second head.

I clear my throat awkwardly and wrench my gaze from his. I almost start to fan myself but thankfully stop myself in time before I make my discomfort really obvious. From the corner of my eye, I watch his nostrils flare, and a sense of dread sinks through me as his eyes widen.

“Are you aroused?”

My mouth drops open, heat leaping high into my cheeks with all the intensity of a bonfire. Did he really just say that aloud? He must have come to the same conclusion because he freezes for an instant, and then his eyes get impossibly wider and his already pale skin leaches whatever small amount of color it possesses.

I clear my throat and offer my arm again as I look away discreetly, giving us both a moment to recover. To my relief, he tucks my hand into his elbow again and we resume our walk, though in stilted silence.

“You were saying? About the vampires that harm humans, that is,” I rush to clarify. I don’t need him elaborating on my aroused state which had been mercifully doused at his observation.

“Yes. There are some,” he said reluctantly. “They rarely kill humans—or at least they have not for quite some time—but they do enjoy a heightened emotional state in those they take blood from. You will know them by their very pronounced fangs. They are not evil but if you come across a vladimir, you should practice considerable caution. Their allure—their ability to charm humans—is very strong, and many relish the flavor of fear.”

“Gods.” I shiver a little as my imagination runs full speed ahead, spinning an image of just the creature he speaks of. Now that sounds a lot closer to what I had expected when I learned that vampires were attending.

His hand covers mine on his arm and squeezes it gently. “If you run across someone you suspect being a vladimir vampire, I need you to alert me right away.”

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