Chapter Five
The island’s restaurant was nicer than any I’d ever seen, including the one at the country club in Leiper’s Fork where Stark lived.
When you entered, you had to walk across a tiny wooden bridge, over that same trickling stream, and then follow a torchlit path through an atrium filled with fragrant flowers and lush tropical plants, very different from the outside vegetation.
“I designed it myself,” Stark said.
“I love it,” I said, holding onto his arm as two men in black shirts opened the restaurant doors for us.
On the inside, the dining room was filled with white tablecloths, candles, and oddly dressed vampires sitting in front of empty plates. Well, mostly. One guy was sniffing a ravioli. Another gal was petting a slice of chocolate cake like it was a tiny puppy.
Now, that’s just sad. But Stark had once told me that he also enjoyed ordering food he couldn’t eat—something about the aroma bringing back memories. He even baked cookies every once in a while just to fill his house with cookie goodness.
“I’m guessing the patrons aren’t drinking red wine,” I said, looking around at their glasses.
“Correct. This blood comes from humans who eat from a select menu of black truffles, wagyu beef, and organic blueberries.” He pulled out a chair for me at a table set for two.
“Later in the week we are serving Taco Bell blood. It is a new vampire delicacy, but let us discuss curated blood trends another day. Tonight, we are here to celebrate.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” Because my stomach had just turned green. Taco Bell-flavored blood? Bleh! I wondered if it made them fart.
I sat, and Stark took his place across from me. Meanwhile, the fifty or so vampires in the room kept staring and whispering.
“Is it just my imagination,” I said, “or are your friends all waitin’ on you for something?”
“I cannot get anything past you, Masie. Tonight is the first step in the process of a formal vampire union.”
I clamped my mouth shut into a hard line. Had it ever occurred to him to tell me these things ahead of time? “Mind sharin’ the ingredients of this process?”
A waiter came up to the table with a bottle of chilled champagne and two glasses. He popped the cork and poured some for us both.
“Well?” I pushed.
“Well, first I toast to my beautiful wife-to-be.” Stark got to his feet and raised his champagne flute in the air.
“Everyone, thank you for attending night one of Powoli Tra? Erekcj?. As you know, I have chosen Masie Kicklighter to be my eternal companion, after which, my power will become hers. Hers will become mine. Together, we will be an undefeatable force to represent, defend, and grow our coven’s prosperity.
” He raised his glass higher in the air. “To fear!”
“To fear!” the room called out in unison.
I slid my hand away from my glass. I was not about to toast to something like that. Good health, yes. Longevity, okey dokey. I’d even toast to getting your monthly bill on time. (Condom scare for my friend Ashley, who worked at the Rooster.) But toasting to fear? Just didn’t seem right.
Stark was quick to notice my lack of toasting. “Masie,” he growled quietly, “do not embarrass me. You must drink.”
“No,” I whispered.
“Masie…” he warned, “these are my friends, my family, my allies. You cannot disrespect them.”
“Then maybe you should’ve told me that our marriage’s purpose will be world domination through fear.”
“It is merely tradition to say such things, no different than the Vikings, the Romans, the…UFC.”
I arched a brow. “You watch that stuff?”
“Vampires love bloody sports. It is akin to watching porn.” He cracked a wide smile, exposing his two rarely seen dimples.
I couldn’t help smiling back. He was just too dang charming. When he wanted to be.
“Fine.” I took my flute, sipped, and set it back on the table. “To fear.”
The room of vampires applauded, and Stark took his seat.
Meanwhile, I was trying hard to stay irritated, but the adoring way he kept looking at me made it difficult.
“So, what’s next?” I asked.
“You drink. We dance. Then you mingle with the guests.”
“In other words, they’re going to grill me.”
“If you mean they want to assess your aptitude for leading by my side, then yes. However, you have nothing to fear, Masie. They will see, just as I have, that there is little in this world you will not face head-on. You are a born leader.”
I was just a girl who lived a simple life in a manner she felt proud of.
Or, at least, tried to. I believed in loving my neighbor, helping the community, and being there for family and friends, even if I didn’t see eye-to-eye with them on everything.
I also loved making Mamma proud, though I still couldn’t stop with the swearing, and I’d also had premarital sex with Stark.
But the fact that I felt bad about it only proved I was a good person.
“I don’t want to be a leader,” I said. “I just want to be a good daughter, sister, friend, and someday, wife.” His wife. I loved the man, and as fate would have it, my wagon was hitched to his. Not in a dirty way, though. Never gonna happen. “All I want is to love those who deserve my love.”
“And that is why I love you, Masie Kicklighter. You want all the right things, for all the right reasons.” He raised his glass to me and polished off the contents.
I took another sip of my champagne, the bubbles tickling my throat and the tartness sticking to my tongue.
Strange. According to Stark, vampires could get drunk but couldn’t exactly taste alcohol. Not like a human.
I was about to comment on it, but then I caught sight of a man coming from the kitchen. He wore a black dress shirt and had long greasy hair.
Wait. I recognize him.
The man exited out the front of the restaurant.
“I know him,” I said.
“Him who?” Stark turned his head, following my gaze.
“That man in the black shirt. He just went outside.” I pointed.
“Staff member. You probably saw him earlier while we were out walking.”
“No.” My eyes lit up as my brain spit out the answer. “He’s one of those mean vampire bikers who came to the Rooster.”
Back when I was human, the guy and his two buddies came into our establishment, looking for Stark and acting like they wanted to start something.
By some miracle, I ran them out, but then I learned they were wanderers—a kind of nomadic vampire who went from place to place, searching for snacks.
I’d asked Stark (whom I’d been trying to steer clear of at the time) to run them out of town before they killed someone, and he’d agreed.
For a price.
I’d have to spend the night with him.
After I’d made it clear that sex was off the table, we had a deal, but before Stark could get rid of the vampire bikers, things went south.
And not in a “may I offer you some sweet tea” kind of way.
The three vampires attacked my uncle Jimmie, nearly ripping out his throat.
If Stark hadn’t given Jimmie his blood, he would’ve died.
To this day, the thought of holding Jimmie in my blood-covered arms, wondering if he would heal, turn, or die, still sent shivers up my spine.
But luckily, Jimmie came back human since his heart had still been beating strong when he’d ingested Stark’s blood.
It was when the heart was weak and on its last few beats that you had to worry about becoming a vampire.
That was what had happened to me. Stark got to me too late.
In any case, he’d promised to take care of Jimmie’s three attackers, so why was one of them here on the island?
I could handle Stark’s little lies and sneaky vampire habits, because it would take time for him to learn another way. But this? He knew family was everything to me, and no one got a free pass when it came to hurting the people I loved.
No one.
The anger formed a fiery ball inside my chest and climbed up my throat, launching from my mouth. “You said you made dirt out of those men,” I hissed.
Stark’s mouth slammed shut, his lips forming a straight line.
I slapped my hand on the table, wishing it were Stark’s nut sack. “Why’d you lie?”
With his jaw muscles flexing, Stark slowly met my furious gaze. I knew his friends could hear us because they were watching and smirking—something he likely didn’t appreciate.
Well, suck it up, buttercup.
“Because, Masie, you do not yet understand our rules, and I knew you would not be pleased to learn I had let him live.”
Oh, hell no. Maybe Stark could use the “you just don’t get us” card when I was a human, but he’d had ample opportunities to come clean.
Suddenly, the seeds of doubt I’d been suppressing sprouted into a big, glorious field of basketball-sized doubt-nuggets. Those nuggets blossomed into a hot mess of pissed off.
“He and his friends almost killed my uncle Jimmie.” I stood, refraining from yelling, but not by much.
“I am aware,” he said condescendingly.
“Well, ya know what? I’m just now ’coming aware that I can’t trust one word off your slippery tongue. You’re…you’re nothing but a fanged weasel, Stark.”
“Weasel?” he repeated.
“Since we left Leiper’s Fork, you’ve done nothing but lie or hold back the truth.”
“The truth? You can’t handle the truth,” he snarled.
I shook a finger at him. “Don’t you go all movie quotes on me.”
Stark stood, too, and slammed his hand on the table. “That was my line first. Everyone knows humans pilfer our catchphrases: It’s just a flesh wound. You complete me. I’ll be back.”
“Really? Really! That’s your answer?” No apology. No groveling. Just showboating famous movie lines.
“I love you most ardently,” he said.
I couldn’t believe him. The audacity! “Jane? You’re taking credit for Jane?” This man needed to go. “Okay, Stark. Well, here’s a quote for you. Say hello to my little friend.” I held up my middle finger.
His pale blue eyes went wide. “You put that away right now, woman, or so help me, I will—”
“Help? You’re beyond help. Quote by Masie Kicklighter.” I turned to leave.
“Do not dare walk out on me,” he snarled.