The Vampire’s Darling (Creatures & Cottages #4)

Prologue

Arran

“Hello, old friend,” Calla says fondly as I meet her at the base of the island’s main hill. Intricate earrings dangle from the small goblin’s large ears and I give them an appreciative glance, much to her delight.

“Good morning, Calla.” I hold my forearm out for her and she reaches up to wrap her long fingers around my wrist, then we slowly make our way up toward The Dancing Daisy.

“Do you remember the last reopening ceremony we had for the bookshop?” Calla asks, seemingly in need of small talk.

I’ve never been good at idle chatter, but I appreciate her subtle attempt at jogging my memory.

As Starry Hill’s second-oldest resident and the one creature who has an ever-present finger on the town’s pulse, Calla always tries to keep me up to date, and I assume this is her way of reminding me of the lineage of the shops.

Not that I can forget. I’ve never forgotten even one creature who has set foot on my island.

I stare at the old ribbon-cutting shears in my free hand, thinking back to the countless openings and reopenings they’ve been a part of over the past almost four hundred years. “When Lochan and Lucille took over from his parents at The Daisy? Aye, of course. It was mere decades ago.”

“Time moves differently for you than us,” Calla remarks as I help her up a particularly large stone step when we pass Second Street.

“Don’t I know it.” I rub a hand over my head, but quickly bring it down again, not wanting to disturb any of the special sunscreen covering my entire body, including my freshly shorn hair.

Getting used to lathering myself up with the unexpectedly light substance has been odd, but the effect has been welcome after four centuries of not feeling the sun on my skin.

When Tilly, Starry Hill’s new human nurse, first introduced me to vampire sunscreen I made a fool of myself by slathering my whole body with the entire bottle’s contents and looking like some type of ghoul, much to the town’s amusement. Not that they said anything directly to me.

I’ve since learned the proper application technique, though I try to use the product sparingly, only making use of it on special occasions—such as today.

A sizable group of all kinds of creatures is gathered in front of The Dancing Daisy, excited energy rolling off of them in tangible waves as they wait for the yellow door to open.

I hover at the back of the crowd while Calla officially welcomes Eleanor to town. The shy human gives a heartfelt speech about what The Dancing Daisy means to her and all her plans for the bookshop.

While she speaks, my gaze roams over to Shinsu where he watches Eleanor with such utter devotion it makes the corner of my mouth almost tip up into a smile.

A similar look of affection passes between Bodin and Tilly as the orc pulls his wife to him and cradles her growing stomach. Ren grins down at Maisie, his tail wrapping around her legs, and soon all I see are happy couples in the crowd.

A longing of some kind stirs inside me, but I quickly push that unwelcome feeling down.

I’ve given up on love a long time ago, and I’m not about to change my mind based on a fleeting breath of loneliness.

Eleanor catches my eye as she concludes her speech with our town’s slogan. “Starry Hill—and The Dancing Daisy—welcome all.”

That’s my signal to go forward and hand her the shears for the ribbon-cutting portion of the ceremony.

I hate being the center of attention, even if it is for less than a minute, but it’s a duty I’m happy to be part of today.

It’s my first daylight ceremony ever. Past events used to be scheduled for twilight hours so I could attend, but now that I have access to vampire sunscreen, there is no need to delay until sunset.

“Congratulations, Eleanor,” I say while I shake her hand. I pass her the antique shears then step back into the crowd so she can share this moment with Shinsu.

When I come to a stop in a quiet, shaded corner, I fold my arms across my chest and take stock of all the creatures present. My eyes fall on a dark-haired human woman who has so much life shining out of her, it almost takes my breath away.

I recognize her as Tilly’s cousin, Audrey.

She visits Starry Hill from time to time for events, but she’s never shown any interest in living here.

That might be a good thing because those bloodred lips and astute eyes have an almost intimidating quality to them, like she’s looking for her next challenge.

Likely feeling my eyes on her, Audrey looks right back at me. Our eyes lock. Part of me wants to flee. Another, curiouser part of me wants to stay, wondering what she sees when she stares at me like that. There is zero fear in her gaze, even though I’m fairly sure she’s aware that I’m a vampire.

Audrey’s eyes rake assessingly over me, stripping me almost bare while I stand fully clothed. My brain momentarily flashes to a thought of what she would look like underneath all the bravado, but the thought melts away as the corner of her mouth tips into a little smirk.

This woman is dangerous and it’s better to avoid her like the sun.

I don’t wait to get my shears back, and as the gathered creatures funnel into The Dancing Daisy, I disappear down an alley, speeding back to my castle, where I can wash off my sunscreen and hide in its safe shadows until sunset.

Audrey’s crimson smirk follows me for the rest of the day, taking up unwelcome space in my head, forcing me to imagine all sorts of scenarios that might transform those lips into other expressions.

I’ll simply have to stay busy and wait a while for my thoughts to clear of Audrey’s haunting qualities. In a couple of decades, she won’t come to Starry Hill anymore and I won’t see her ever again.

But, until then, if I know what’s good for me—and her—I need to stay away from Audrey.

Sitting in my dark parlor on the ground floor, I stare at the lone, flickering candle on the mantle above the empty fireplace. There’s something notably poignant about the image, but I don’t care too much to explore the significant meaning any further.

Thoughts of a certain human still persist, no matter how busy I’ve kept myself since the reopening ceremony this morning. I’m not known as a particularly friendly creature, but even I can feel my mood is grumpier than usual.

My stewing gets worse and eventually I get up and start pacing. My shoes thud dully on the sandstone floor, the rhythmic ocean waves crashing against the cliff my castle sits on the only sounds echoing through the night.

I need to go into town to get my blood bags, but it’s karaoke night, so everyone will be out late and off frolicking in darkened corners throughout the island. It’s not a sight I especially want to be privy to tonight.

A soft creaking noise pierces through my brooding thoughts, and I recognize the sound of my front door slowly being opened. There’s no knocking, which means it’s not one of my friends, but I also don’t fret, because there’s no urgency to the soft footsteps.

With my curiosity for the intruder’s identity thoroughly piqued, I stride toward my entryway.

My hands land on my hips as I stare down at Audrey, a frown marring my brow when I try to come up with any reason for her to appear in my home in the middle of the night.

Doesn’t this woman have any self-preservation instincts? How can she think it’s a good idea to enter the home of a vampire she’s never actually talked to? What if I were unfriendly? Or godsforbid, hungry?

“Hi,” Audrey says brightly, lifting her hand in a wave like we’re old friends.

My frown deepens even further. “Why are you here?”

“Uhm, can we have a sleepover?” Audrey asks, widening her eyes in a way that I suspect is meant to make her look innocent. But that wicked tilt to her mouth is telling me she’s enjoying whatever she’s doing far too much.

It takes me a minute to register her words. “A what?”

“I’m staying the night and will be gone in the morning,” Audrey says brightly, stepping toward me and patting me on the chest.

For a second, I’m stunned by her audacity, the feeling of her hand on me, and having someone in my home. Why does my castle all of a sudden feel small? Almost like it can’t contain all of her energy.

Audrey keeps walking farther into the foyer, and I turn to stare at her. “I… uhm… you…”

She spins around, and gives me a broad smile that somehow shoots straight through me and settles around my knees, making them wobbly for all but a moment. “Which way is my bedroom?”

Unable to think of any worthy retort or any intelligent questions as to her presence, I simply lift my hand and point to the right, where the unused guest bedrooms are.

“Thanks, stud.” Audrey blows me a kiss, effectively taking the air out of my lungs, then practically skips up the stairs, while I remain right where I am, stunned and feeling fully unmoored.

What the fuck just happened?

Once I have a semblance of brain power again, I fill up a ceramic pitcher of water and place it on a tray with a cup and a packet of shortbread cookies. I cautiously climb up the stairs, then place the tray outside of Audrey’s room.

Do I knock? Should I ask her if she needs anything else?

Suddenly aware of how dark the castle might be to human eyes, I light the candles in the sconces along the corridors of her wing, then prepare a lantern for her too.

My hand hovers in front of her closed door, listening for any signs that she’s still awake or if she might need something from me.

Why am I hesitating in my own home? She’s only human. What could she possibly do to me?

A picture of Audrey on her knees for me with those pretty red lips wrapped around my cock flashes behind my eyes, but I push that image away.

Maybe now is the right time to leave and get my blood bags. Some fresh air might do me good, frolicking couples be damned.

The last thing I need is a beautiful temptation right under my nose. Or a challenge I might want to rise to.