6. Merri
Merri
I pace back and forth across the living room like a madwoman. “What does that even mean— his One ?” I throw my hands up in frustration. “It sounds like a tagline for some gothic horror flick. I mean, how many vamps do you know running around saying that?”
Nina, sprawled on my couch with her head dangling upside-down, just laughs. “Girl, if a tall, brooding vampire declared me his One, I’d be halfway down the aisle.”
“Wouldn’t even need the aisle,” I mutter, eyeing her. “You’d be halfway down the altar.”
Greer, the sensible one, just shrugs from her spot on the armrest. “You don’t owe him anything, Merri. Just because he staked some weird claim doesn’t mean you can’t walk away.”
She’s right, but I feel myself bristle, anyway. What makes him think he can just… choose me? “And for all I know, he just wants to turn me into his personal blood bank.” I shudder, remembering the flash of crimson in his eyes that no amount of ‘vaccine’ could hide.
“You should at least figure out what he means.” Greer’s voice is calm, level, but I can feel her eyes on me, assessing. Greer sees through people, like x-ray glasses for emotions. And right now, she’s reading me like the Sunday paper.
I’m halfway through thinking up a response when a loud knock interrupts us. I freeze, exchanging a look with Nina. “Uh-oh. It’s not him, is it?”
“It better not be. He may own the building, but he can wait to be buzzed in. Like everybody else,” I say, rolling my eyes as I swing open the door. A wall of flowers meets me—dark, velvet roses practically spilling into my arms. And of course, there’s a card, elegant and smug. I pull it out and wave it at my girls.
Dinner tonight? 7 PM. -B
Nina’s off the couch in a flash, squealing like a little kid on Christmas morning. “Oh, those roses are sexy .”
“Sexy?” I deadpan, tossing them onto the armchair like a rotten potato. “Try ‘stalker-ish’ And no, I’m not going.”
Nina shakes her head, sighing in mock disappointment. “Seriously? Not even for some expensive takeout and vampire-approved ambiance?”
Just as I’m about to launch into all the reasons why I’m definitely not going, my phone vibrates in my hand. I glance down, expecting another one of those endless school notifications. Nope. It’s Pick Ups. The app flashes a new message, and with it, my blood pressure skyrockets.
“He did not.” I say it flatly, but my heart’s hammering in my chest.
“Did not what?” Greer asks.
“He bought out my entire week of ride-share jobs.”
Greer’s eyes go wide. “You mean, like… every single night?”
I nod, exasperated. “That’s seven nights of fares gone. He’s paying to keep me out of work. Does he seriously think he can buy his way into my life?”
Nina raises a finger, the picture of calm delight. “Well, if he’s going through all this trouble, maybe you should go see what he has to say. Like, get your questions answered, and snag yourself some free food.”
“Are you hungry, Nina?”
“Naw, just thirsty ,” she says without missing a beat, wiggling her brows.
I throw a pillow at her. “Fine. But this isn’t romance. I’m going to set him straight, and make it very clear that flowers and bought-out ride-shares aren’t getting him anywhere.”
***
By the time I’m at Baden’s penthouse, it’s barely half past six, but I’m itching to get this conversation over with. I raise my fist to knock, but an awful smell reaches me first. Burnt… something. Garlic? Onion? A failed attempt at something edible, that’s for sure.
I’m still standing there, wondering if the vampire version of Hell’s Kitchen has gone down inside, when the door swings open. Baden stands there, bathed in a cloud of smoke, looking… flustered.
I blink, the half-prepared speech dissolving into laughter that erupts faster than I can catch it. “Were you trying to impress me or burn the place down?”
He stiffens, but I can see a faint pink rise in his cheeks—a look I never thought I’d see from Mr. Stoic Vampire. “I thought you might appreciate a homemade meal.” His words are tight, defensive. “But it turns out I’m not quite as… experienced in the kitchen as I’d thought.”
I bite my lip, trying to contain the laughter that just won’t quit. “I think your attempt probably counts for a lot,” I manage, still grinning. “But you’re a vampire, Baden. No one expects you to be a chef .”
He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a low, exasperated sigh. “Maybe I should’ve left it to the professionals.”
“Oh, you think?” I raise an eyebrow, finally catching my breath. The anger I’d brought with me is fading, disarmed by the very last thing I’d expected to find—a vulnerable, almost human side of him. “Maybe next time, skip the whole burning dinner bit and just stick to not setting off the fire alarms.”
To my surprise, he laughs—a deep, quiet sound that makes my stomach do an annoying, traitorous flip. “I’ll consider it.”
He runs a hand through his shaggier than normal hair. The deep waves look as if they’ve been whipped around by a tsunami. The ends are curled from the steam and ahem smoke, and I want to lay his head in my lap and brush it back into order. Instead, I smile, and suddenly, I don’t feel like yelling at him anymore. This isn’t the brooding vampire who’s been shadowing my every move; he just looks like a guy—nervous and probably a little embarrassed that his “grand gesture” has gone so far south.
He clears his throat, catching my attention again. “Would you… like to stay for dinner? I’d order something this time, I promise.” His voice is softer, almost hopeful.
I glance down at the slightly charred pan on the counter. “You sure you’re not planning to serve… that ?” I gesture to what’s left of his culinary disaster.
“Absolutely not,” he says, the faintest smile quirking at his lips. “I may have better luck with takeout.”
The invitation is tempting in a way I didn’t expect. But then, the questions start flooding back, simmering beneath the surface like the burnt remnants in his pan.
“Alright, fine.” I settle myself into one of his sleek, spotless chairs, folding my arms across my chest. “But you’re going to tell me exactly what you mean by this whole ‘One’ business while we wait.”
He watches me for a moment, a strange intensity in his silver eyes, like he’s weighing what to say. Finally, he inclines his head, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “If that’s what you want, Merri.”
Baden places the takeout order with swift efficiency, giving the order to the hostess on the phone. Not that it matters. Just an observation. But as he sets the phone down, he pulls out a chair opposite me, folding himself into it like he’s settling in for an interrogation.
“So… let’s hear it,” I say, crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes. “What exactly does ‘One’ mean?”
He stares at me for a long second, like he’s weighing the right words. “You’re familiar with the concept of mates?”
My pulse does a small, traitorous flutter at the word, but I keep my face blank. “Yes, I’m familiar with the concept. Also familiar with the high level of toxicity thatcomes with it.”
A jaw tics but he doesn’t flinch. “It’s… different with vampires. Most of us go our entire existence without finding a mate. The term is rare. Special.”
“Special,” I echo, the word leaving a bad taste in my mouth. “Does ‘special’ mean you get to throw flowers and fire hazards my way because of it?”
The corners of his mouth tighten, but his expression remains calm. “It means, Merri, that you’re the only one who has made me feel alive in centuries. Centuries, ” he emphasizes, his gaze fixed on me like he’s daring me to brush it off. “It’s a sensation I thought I was incapable of. Until you.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t sign up for this, Baden. Just because you feel something doesn’t mean I… owe you anything.” My words come out sharper than I intend, but honestly, I’m reeling, and I don’t want him to see that.
He nods, accepting the jab, his eyes searching mine. “I don’t expect you to. You don’t have to be anything you’re not. But for me, this connection isn’t something I can walk away from.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “This isn’t about ownership. It’s about… purpose.”
“Purpose?” I snip, trying to mask the uncomfortable warmth spreading through me. “You can’t just pick someone and decide they’re your ‘purpose,’ Baden. I have my own life. My own path.”
“And I respect that.” His voice is level, calm. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t… ignore it. Believe me, I’ve tried.” He sighs, running a hand over his jaw. “If there were a way to rid myself of this feeling, I would. This isn’t something I wanted either.”
My throat tightens, and I feel myself softening despite every logical reason not to. “So what? You just… expect me to be okay with this?”
“I don’t expect anything from you.” His gaze locks with mine, intensity simmering in those silver eyes. “Except for honesty. If you’re uncomfortable, if this is something you want no part of, tell me, and I’ll respect it. But don’t deny that there’s something here, Merri. Because I know you feel it too.”
The honesty in his voice—quiet, raw—hits me harder than I expected. I hate that he’s right. I do feel something. The maddening pull, the way he gets under my skin, the way his voice sometimes makes me forget my own damn name. But I’ve seen possessive, and I’ve seen unbreakable bonds. My parents are living proof of both.
I don’t get a chance to respond because just then, the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of our takeout. Baden rises to get it, and I find myself exhaling a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
While he’s busy at the door, I force myself to breathe, to push back the jumble of emotions swirling around in my chest. He’s standing right there, close enough to touch, and yet… he feels miles away. This isn’t something I ever thought I’d be dealing with. An overprotective vampire, and a claim he says he’d give anything to ignore.
He returns with the takeout bags, setting them down on the table with quiet precision. I unpack the food, grateful for the distraction, but when he sits down again, his gaze is unwavering. We eat in silence for a few minutes, both of us lost in thought, until finally, he breaks it.
“Merri, this… bond… it’s not a game. It’s not something I just ignore.” He leans back, regarding me with a sincerity that unnerves me. “But that doesn’t mean I expect you to feel the same. This is your choice.”
I poke at my food, mulling over his words. It’s too much, too intense, and yet… there’s something oddly freeing in his honesty. “So, what happens if I say no?”
“Then we both move on,” he says, his voice steady. “Or try to.”
The idea of moving on, of letting this connection—whatever it is—fade into nothing, doesn’t sit as comfortably as it should. I shake my head, trying to clear the muddled thoughts. “I don’t even know where to start with this, Baden. My life isn’t exactly set up for… for whatever this is .”
He smiles faintly, the barest hint of something vulnerable dampens his eyes. “Neither is mine.”
The weight of his words settles between us, heavy and filled with unspoken possibilities. There’s a calmness in his gaze, a rare stillness that’s at odds with the usual intensity he exudes. And maybe that’s what gets to me—the realization that, beneath all the possessiveness and protectiveness, there’s a part of him that’s just as lost in this as I am.
I push my plate away, leaning back in my chair. “Alright,” I say finally. “Let’s try and be… normal about this, or as close to normal as we can get.”
His brow quirks, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “Define normal.”
“Normal,” I say, drumming my fingers on the table, “is figuring things out without the melodrama and declarations and—” I gesture to the charred remnants in the trash. “Without burning down the kitchen.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “Noted.”
The tension between us lightens, giving way to a strange, fragile comfort. I’m not sure how we got here, or where this is heading, but for the first time since this whole ordeal started, I can breathe again.
“So… I do have a surprise for you,” he says, breaking the silence.
My eyes narrow. “What?”
“Although it’s not my cup of tea.”
“Right, you prefer the bloody kind.”
“Hilarious,” he says drolly. “I brought one of your game machine things. I thought you might enjoy giving me another go round.”
“Another chance to lose, you mean? Sure, why not?” I grin, feeling a spark of mischief creep in. “Definitely. You might even learn a thing or two about handling yourself in combat.”
The challenge in his gaze flares, and he smirks. “Is that so?”
“Only one way to find out.” I follow him into a cozy den with enough electronic equipment and video games to fill Silicon Valley. I swallow and try not to orgasm. Playing it cool, I say, “Prepare to get annihilated.”
***
An hour later, we’re sitting side by side on his plush couch, controllers in hand, leaping and kicking, fighting to our TV deaths. To my surprise, he’s not half-bad, though he’s lost every round so far. He curses softly under his breath, squinting at the movie-theater-sized screen as if sheer willpower alone might help him win.
“You sure you’re a vampire?” I tease, landing another blow that sends his character flying. “You’re moving more like a human.”
He huffs, exasperated. “I trained for real combat, not… this.”
“Oh, so you’re just blaming the medium? That’s cute.” I nudge him, laughter bubbling up, and to my surprise, he laughs too—a real, deep laugh that transforms his whole face. It’s disarming, and I find myself leaning into him without even realizing it.
We fall silent, my shoulder brushing against his. I feel his warmth, his presence, every inch of him somehow amplifying the pull between us. I look up, catching his gaze, and the laughter fades, replaced by something else, something heavier and undeniably magnetic.
His hand comes up, brushingmy cheek, lingering a beat too long. My pulse races, and his breath paints my skin, warm and close. I tilt my head, eyes flicking to his lips as the world around us fades, leaving only this fragile, potent connection.
Then his lips are on mine, soft yet searing, igniting a fire that spreads through me, filling every inch of my body. Liquid fire roars through my brain. Burning away every rational thought until all I can think. Feel. Is Baden. Baden’s tongue stroking mine while his fingers do the same. Up and down my spine with a hypnotist’s rhythm until nothing matters but him and this moment.
He pulls me onto his lap, and I straddle him. When my legs grip the sides of his thighs like a thoroughbred, he grips my hair in a knot, pulls my head back, exposing my neck and growls, “Enough,” against my throat.
Huh? Struggling to breathe under the weight of desire that blankets me, I can’t even ask what the hell he means. Talk about a mixed message. He’s telling me enough but pulling me closer.
“Enough with the damn torture. Enough pushing me away. Enough waiting and playing by your rules.” He tips my head back down so that my eyes meet his scarlet gaze. Freaking redder than red gaze. “You’re mine.”
“Yours, but—”
“Mine.” He growls and takes my objections before they can leave my mouth and trashes them. He stands up, holding on to me, all of freaking me, like I’m a feather weight instead of a bowling ball, and carries me to bed. And I give no protests, not a damn one. My usual snark consumed by his fervor.
Baden pulls me close, his body silhouetted in the fading evening light. The tension between us is palpable, a living, breathing thing. His fingers trace the curve of my neck, turning the muscles liquid.
“Merri,” he says. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
I lean into his touch, unable to resist the pull of his gaze. “What do I do to you, Baden?”
His eyes darken, a storm of emotion swirling in their depths. “You make me feel things I thought I’d never feel again. You bring light to my darkness.”
His lips find mine, a searing kiss that obliterates all coherent thought. I feel the ache of want building inside me, a primal need that goes beyond reason or sense. Clothes—we’re wearing too many—so we discard them in a flurry of impatient hands.
As soon as I’m naked, the speed is gone, replaced by the slow-burning hunger in his eyes. “Merri, your beauty is beyond words. Beyond anything in my experience. I’ve lived so many lifetimes, and known so many people, places, and things. Nothing compares to you.” He draws his fingers along my arm. His fingers are slightly chilled. A vampire thing? But the fire it leaves in its wake is volcanic. Lava rushes through my veins at his touch.
Then he stops talking, and his lips devastate me as much as his words did. He kisses the side of my neck, and my jugular vein jumps as if begging for him to turn me. He doesn’t. Instead, he slides those lips across my shoulder bones.
“Baden—” I gasp as he nips and sucks. Leaving love bites, I know will bloom tomorrow.
“Merri, I’ve waited centuries for you. I won’t rush a moment of this.” Baden’s eyes glow, and I’m lost. Lost in the feel of his cool lips on my hot skin. Lost in the way, his lips suckle and lick. Lost in the way he opens me, not just my legs, but my heart.
“Baden—” I reach for him, and he shakes his head. “Not yet, Merri. Not yet.” He slides down my body, his cool breath blowing on my molten core. “You’re so wet—so ready.”
I blush and try to cover myself, and Baden growls. “Mine. All of you.”
He parts my folds and licks me from top to bottom. His tongue is a velvet whip lashing me with pleasure. I buck, and Baden pins me down. Holding me still as he feasts on me. Sucking and licking. I can’t catch my breath—can’t scream. Baden holds me on the edge of a cliff, and I want to jump.
“Baden—” I buck, and he shakes his head. “Not yet. Not until I have all of you.” He slides a long finger into me, and I gasp. It’s cold, yet it sends a wave of heat through me. Baden pumps that finger and adds another. Scissoring me open. He licks and sucks, and I’m a ball of need. A bubble of need that Baden won’t let me break.
“Baden—” I buck, and he shakes his head. “Not yet…” His fingers bunch into a knot that presses against my G-spot. My toes curl as he sucks my clit. I shatter as he growls, licks, and laps. Cleaning me up.
He doesn’t suck my blood but sweet, holy, moly, it still feels like he’s sucked the life out of me. He drags his lips away from my pussy like a man being dragged to the stake. But his lips travel with purpose, with surety to my breasts, where he feasts again.
Squeezing and pulsing. Pinching and twisting my nipples until I’m a writhing mess. Baden lifts his head and commands. “Merri, you are mine. Say it.” He demands, but how can I when I’m breathless with need?
Anger flashes in his eyes when he demands an answer again. Pinching his fingers on my clit, lighting my body with a sharp thorn of pleasure mixed with a bite of pain. And I fucking love it.
Baden asks a third time. His fingers still tormenting me. And fuck, I’m ready to agree to anything. Except, he swallows down my words as his mouth possesses mine.
Baden growls again. “Mine?” Baden sinks his fangs into my lower lip, and I explode again. He laps and sucks, and I swear he’s drinking not just my blood but me.
He settles between my thighs. His eyes blazing. “Meredith—”
“Fuck it. Make me yours.”
He does. He slides into me, his cool cock a balm to my overheated pussy—deliciously stretching me open. Pumping and thrusting. I wrap my legs around him. Meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounds and pants.
His howls reveal the monster he is. Sending me over the edge. My pussy squeezes him, and we explode together.
Baden collapses on me, satisfied at last. “Merri Collins,” Baden strokes my face. “You’re mine.”
I sigh and know it’s true.
Dammit.
Vampire or not. I’m his.