Chapter 11
Iparted my lips to speak, but my mouth couldn’t seem to form any words.
Out of all the vampires the VGO could have sent, it was Joseph—last name unknown—who’d come. The organization had branches all over the world, but their headquarters in Edinburgh were especially revered amongst immortals. It was there that he was head honcho.
Still in shock, I blurted, “I was expecting one of your minions.”
He threw his head back and laughed.
Joseph was over a thousand years old and beautiful in every single way a man could be—something I used to think of Robert, until he broke my heart.
His eyes and hair were dark and deep, his muscles plentiful.
He towered above me, so I put him at four or five inches above six feet.
And that Scottish accent of his? Crazy sexy.
To my great mortification, he was now staring at me like he suspected I was mentally unsound. Probably because I was gaping at him like I’d just had a pie thrown in my face. I bit the inside of my cheek, reminding myself of the vamp I was dealing with.
Joseph was so powerful that he could kill me with mere words. Literally. If he gave the order, dozens of ambitious vampires would eagerly slay me for the opportunity to prove themselves to the VGO.
I smiled sweetly. “Won’t you please come in?”
I offered to take his coat. Our hands touched when he handed it over, and I felt a zing pass between our skin. I suspected he’d felt it also. Joseph had sampled my blood not too long ago, and he was looking as if he wouldn’t mind sampling it again.
It was impossible not to notice how the vamp’s muscles rippled through his clothing as he moved.
He was dressed more casually than what I would have expected of somebody so high-ranking, in dark fitted jeans and a black t-shirt.
Expensive timepiece, of course—vampires loved their fancy watches, maybe because time was a novel concept to them—which he’d paired with a couple discreet leather and thick chain bracelets.
On his feet, he sported the type of high-end distressed leather boots that are meant to look like they’re intended for construction but are far too swanky to dirty up.
I faltered for a beat. Should I opt for the coziness of the living room or the brightness of the kitchen?
“How about we go to the kitchen table?” I offered. “Unless it would be easier for you to draw my blood on the sofa?”
I was relieved when he said the kitchen would be best. It seemed less intimate.
Had Joseph not been a member of the VGO, and had I not been woefully heartbroken, I would have been tripping over myself to get to know him. At least, I liked to think so. In reality, I probably would have been far too intimidated to even say hello to a man so sexy.
Also, though Robert had betrayed me, it would be sleazy to seduce another man in his home. Particularly because Joseph was under the impression that Robert and I were engaged.
Plus, I reminded myself, I’d sworn off dating vampires for good.
As much as I was telling myself to stop being so ridiculous, a teeny, tiny part of me was still (yes, still) hoping for an alternate explanation for Robert’s disappearance.
Uncertainty had once again become my middle name, despite my sureness after discovering the million dollars in my bank account.
It was as if I’d rebooted during my nap, becoming pathetic all over again.
With every irrational point I made to myself I also made a rational counterargument.
I didn’t have concrete evidence that Robert hadn’t been coerced into dumping me, though why anyone would make him do such a thing was beyond me.
And the million dollars? I couldn’t conclusively say that he was the one who’d made the deposit, but who else could it be?
With all the writing on the damn wall, dwelling probably—definitely—made me a sad, sad chump. Unfortunately, there was no switch inside my head that I could flip and instantly change the way I felt. I couldn’t help that I was still in love with Robert.
Once Joseph and I were at the kitchen table, I offered him a seat and a glass of blood.
A positive of congregating with vampires was that they were no-fuss guests.
I didn’t need to worry that the blood wasn’t enough—that maybe I should also offer cheese and crackers, or some variation of sweet baked goods, the way I would with a human.
I poured Joseph a tumbler of runner’s blood, then set it before him. I jumped when he spoke, nearly knocking the glass over.
“Where’s your fiancé?” he asked in his lovely lilt. His tone suggested he really didn’t care. Or that he might even be happy about Robert’s absence.
Damn it. I hadn’t thought to make up a cover story, since I never dreamed the VGO would send a bigwig like Joseph.
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
Could he be messing with me? I thought, paranoid.
Mocking me? What if Serena and Robert had been parading around the VGO headquarters and Joseph was merely testing my response?
But why would he do something like that—toy with me?
Surely a vampire so important would have better things to do with his time.
“Oh, he’s here and there,” I said with a wave of a hand, which sounded nonsensical even to me. Better than an outright lie, though. Changing the subject, I enquired, “So, what’s in there? You look like a secret agent.”
I, of course, had a good idea what was in the small, hard-shelled case Joseph has set on the table.
It contained various syringes and tubes that would be used to transport my blood back to the United Kingdom.
Thinking about it made me light-headed. Like a lot of people in the world, I had a mild fear of needles.
Smiling, he arched a brow.
Good God he was stunning. Like, ridiculously, inhumanly, dumbfoundingly stunning. I wondered if he’d been that hot when he was mortal, whenever that had been. The only thing I knew for certain was that he was over a thousand years old, which I’d learned while I was at the VGO headquarters.
It was funny, I thought, that Joseph and Robert were both alluring vampires, yet entirely different in appearance and personality.
Joseph’s dark mane was wild and unruly, while Robert’s conservative jet-black style rarely had a strand out of place.
I used to joke that he was immune to bed head.
Joseph’s chocolate eyes were warm and frisky; Robert’s steely grey gaze was intense and hypnotizing.
Joseph was playful, while Robert reserved his sweetest self for those who were closest to him.
If the two were desserts, Robert would be a compact but ultra-rich chocolate torte in a posh restaurant: served on a gleaming plate with a sprig of mint, a fancy drizzle of raspberry coulis, and a razor-sharp triangle of bitter chocolate poking out the top.
Joseph, on the other hand, would be a delectable ice cream sundae, heaped with all sorts of filthy, ooey-gooey toppings: hot fudge, caramel, marshmallow fluff.
Both treats were delicious, but in contrasting ways.
Maybe that explained why I was so attracted to Joseph. I was pissed at Robert, his opposite.
No, that was ridiculous. Robert or no Robert, Joseph was plenty mouthwatering on his own.
Joseph opened the case. It was padded with egg crate foam I associated with soundproofing, which then made me think of all the screaming I hoped I wasn’t going to be doing. Stuck in the sponge were several rows of empty test tubes. He didn’t expect to fill all those, did he?
“I don’t see any syringes,” I said.
Joseph shook his head. “It would take a lot of time to do it that way.”
How else did he think he was going to get blood out of my veins? “You aren’t planning on . . .” I curled my hands into claws and hissed like a Hollywood vampire. “Are you?”
He seemed to find that hilarious. “You think I’m going to, what, fill my mouth with your blood and spit it into a bucket?”
I folded my arms across my chest, pouting over being mocked. I wasn’t truly angry, only . . . Flirting, I realized. Oh my God, I was flirting with a VGO vampire.
I sat up straight and cleared my throat.
After he finished having himself a nice belly laugh, he pulled a clear, rectangle-shaped bag from a pocket in the case. Attached to one end was a long, skinny hose. “If this is all right by you, I’ll hook this into your arm and then disengage once the bag is full.”
“But you’ll still have to use a needle?”
“Unfortunately, yes. But it’s better than—” he imitated my Hollywood vampire “—isn’t it?”
Gulping, I nodded. That’s a big fucking bag, Joseph, I didn’t say.
“Let’s hope I have blood left once you’re finished,” I joked flatly, trying to sound as if I was totally cool with the situation, like any of it was normal. Tra-la-la, just another day with an ancient vampire extorting my blood.
I watched in silence as he began prepping our makeshift blood draw station. He, much to my relief, moved with confidence, which told me this wasn’t the first time he’d done it. Or, at the very least, that he was skilled with needles. I thanked my lucky stars that vampires didn’t suffer shaky hands.
“Will my blood stay cold in that case? It won’t go bad?” Even if it did, the VGO would be out of luck. I wouldn’t have much blood left for him to harvest.
As if reading my mind, he said, “Not to worry. If your blood spoiled, I wouldn’t ask you to give more.”
It occurred to me that Joseph might, indeed, be reading my mind. Some vampires could, though usually they made it known. I suspected it wasn’t out of politeness, but because vampires like to boast.
He added, “I’m not taking it far.” Maybe he wasn’t immediately returning to Scotland.
Joseph worked in silence as he opened a sterile needle packet and then hooked everything up to the bag. I looked away when he tapped my vein. He positioned the bag so that my blood would flow into it with ease.
“I’m impressed. Very gentle,” I commented.