Chapter Three
As I slid on my black dress and combed my hair into a sleek, low ponytail, my mind whirred and clicked like an old pickup truck.
I trusted Stark. I did. But my gut was telling me he was up to something. Maybe good. Most likely bad.
No, I didn’t believe he would hurt me, but he wasn’t above your basic scheming.
Stop, Mas. You either trust Stark or you don’t. Which is it?
Bottom line, he’d brought me here for a legitimate reason, and I had to stop overthinking it. He was protecting me from myself.
A year ago, it wouldn’t have been a big deal for a vampire to kill a human, because they could easily cover it up.
They’d been doing it for thousands of years.
But the world had drastically changed while I was in prison.
Yeah. Prison. Nearly eight dang months. All because Stark had wanted to punish me for marrying his evil brother, Lazlo.
Of course, Stark had ignored the part about Lazlo kidnapping me and my sister, Maybell, using her as leverage to force me to become his wife.
Anyway, after I got free, Stark had actually accused me of enjoying my time with Lazlo, which was why we’d gotten into the world’s biggest fight. I’m talking huge, planets colliding, and tiny forest creatures running for cover.
Yeah, I’d said some things that probably felt like a wooden stake to his undead heart, but his response had been full-on nuclear retaliation!
The man had actually called the cops on me, but not before setting up a Hannibal Lecter murder scene in my living room.
You know, the part where Hannibal turns the guy into a giblet angel?
Well, that. With Stark as the centerpiece.
He’d even continued pretending to be dead until I was locked up.
There’s some dedication for ya. That was how he’d gotten me sent away for murder.
Now, you’re probably wonderin’ why the heck I’d trust him again after all that. The answer was that actions spoke louder than words. Always have. Always will.
Stark had realized that he loved me and hurting me was hurting himself. So he had done the unthinkable and broke every vampire law in existence for thousands of years in order to tell the world the truth: I hadn’t really killed him, because he was a vampire, one of many living in plain sight.
Cue pandemonium.
To quell the public’s panic, Stark had then announced that their kind had enacted new laws prohibiting killing humans, which brought me to my now ranty truth…
Stark feared I’d kill someone and didn’t want me to face the consequences. Death. And him being a very powerful vampire—maybe even the most powerful in the world—he’d likely be the one to put me down. Killing me would be the last thing he’d want.
See, Masie. This all makes perfect sense. He loved me, and I had to stop doubting him.
There was a knock on the door, and I went to answer it.
Standing outside on the walkway, Stark’s six-foot-three frame came into view. He wore an elegant black tuxedo, his long dark hair neatly pulled back, exposing his angular jawline and refined cheekbones.
My girly parts purred like a cat looking for scratch. “Wowy, wow. Don’t you look handsome.” Somehow he seemed even taller in the suit—something about those sleek, tailored lines.
He looked me over and came inside, placing a kiss on my hand. “And you look so divine I could eat you.”
“I’m not gonna say no to that.” He was a masterful lover, and that included licking the bean.
He released my hand. “Are you ready for that tour now?”
“Did you tell all your guards to make themselves scarce? That’s why you ran off earlier, isn’t it? You didn’t want me to find out that I’m right. I am not free to leave.”
His ice-blue eyes turned to a dark green. “I do not know what you mean, Masie.”
I always said his eyes were like a mood ring. In this case, I deduced he was lying, which I let slide. I’d already decided I had to trust his reasons for bringing me here.
“I’m starvin’. Think we could eat before the tour?
” I placed my hand over my growling stomach.
I wasn’t sure what would be on the menu tonight, but I was hoping for more of that moonshine.
A huge pile of carne asada tacos would be even better, but giving up human food had been the price for staying alive.
“Ah. Yes,” Stark said. “I anticipated you might require nourishment to tide you over before dinner.” He pulled a flask from his coat pocket.
I snatched it with my greedy hands, unscrewed the silver top, and gave it a whiff. Moonshine. Thank God. I slugged down the chilled, strawberry-sweet liquid and then gave the container a little suck until nothing more came out.
With a sigh, I handed back the flask. “I’m still hungry.”
“I know, my love. I know. However, you must learn to battle your hunger, to dominate it. Your survival depends on absolute discipline of your desire for blood.”
Screw that. I needed food! “If I could just have some more—get my head straight—”
“No.” He tucked the flask inside his coat and cupped my cheek.
“Masie,” he said tenderly, “I have been through the change myself. I have watched countless others try and fail. Only those who have a firm handle on their urges survive. And if anything happened to you…” He bent his head and pressed his mouth to mine.
His tongue swept over my lips, and I opened up to him, allowing the moment to pull me in.
His kisses were the complete package. Toe tingles, heart racing, nipples pearling.
He pulled away.
“How do you do that?” I said, needing to catch my breath.
“Practice.”
I narrowed my eyes, once again hating the thought of his mouth on someone else’s. “You mean with your pillow or the back of your hand. Right?”
He chuckled. “Of course.”
“Thought so.”
“Now, are you ready to see your home for the next several months?”
My jaw dropped. “You said we’d be here for a month.”
“No. I said the most difficult part of your transformation will be the first month.”
He had not said that. Who did he think he was fooling? “You said that after a month you wanted to get married—”
“I said that if you survive, I would like us to marry; however, that does not mean the work stops after four weeks or that we would marry immediately.”
I wiggled my lips, trying to work out the pieces. “Not that I’m in a hurry for any of this, but why not?”
“Marriage between vampires is a process. So why not enjoy some relaxation here while I conduct things?”
I raised a brow. I had the impression he wanted to drag out my stay. But why? Was he afraid I’d go bananas and eat up my entire town if I left?
“Explain this process,” I said, my tone growing sassitable, sassy and irritable.
“What is there to explain? It is no different from human couples seeking the approval of their family members.”
I smelled BS. “Okay, but Lazlo’s dead.” Dead for good this time. Stark had killed him and Fiona for attacking me.
“My brother was born after my father sold me to a vampire, so I did not have the opportunity to interact with him until many years later, after I learned he’d also been turned.
However, despite my hopes of us having a close relationship, I quickly discovered Lazlo would never be welcome in my coven.
He was far too wild to handle such responsibility. ”
I wondered how Lazlo had gotten mixed up with vampires, too. Did Stark have something to do with it? Or maybe their dad?
Stark continued before I could ask, “So you see, my coven is my true family, and they are very ancient, very powerful. To join them is a great honor. Therefore, bringing you into the fold will require persuasion.”
“Okay.” I whooshed out a breath. It sounded complicated, and frankly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of his coven, also known as “the Party,” even if they’d take me. According to Charlie, they were a group of powerful vampire elites who controlled everything behind the scenes.
“Do not concern yourself with such things right now, Masie. You must focus on one day, one step at a time.” He kissed me again.
I sighed. “You’re right.” I had bigger things to worry about.
“I know. Now, let me show you the island while the moon is at its brightest. Then we will dine and dance, and you will meet a select group from my coven whom I consider to be my closest friends. They are eager to know you.”
“Closest friends? Here?” I snapped. “You never said anything about meetin’ anyone.”
“There is nothing to worry about. They are here to make your transformation more comfortable.”
His pale eyes began to swirl from sage green to blue to green again. The way they changed colors was hypnotic. He claimed that only the older, more powerful vampires had eyes like his—some sort of warning sign.
He added, “You have nothing to fear tonight.”
Suddenly, I felt calmer. “Promise me: no more surprises. I mean it, Stark.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”