Page 11 of Fangs and Family
‘Call me, Nina. Don’t overthink it, just call me… please,’ He asked, and my breath caught as hope suddenly blossomed together with a warmth spreading through my chest right before the arsehole added. ‘Don’t drag Sara into your mess. Leszek won’t be happy if she’s hurt again.’
1.Dola - the Polish goddess of fate and fortune that weaves the tapestry of fate for every living being
2.An athame or athamé is a ceremonial blade, generally with a black handle. It is the main ritual implement or magical tool used in ceremonial magic traditions.
Chapter 4
Idrove carefully, desperately trying to concentrate on the road, conscious of the precious cargo beside me. Sara sat slumped in the passenger seat, struggling to stay awake. Her silence made me wish for her sarcastic observations to distract me from my thoughts.
Nina’s expression dominated my thoughts, the sight of her dark eyes warming when I asked her to call me, then instantly icing over when I warned her about Sara’s involvement. Still, I needed her to phone me, and after she flinched away from my touch, proving she still wanted nothing to do with me, I used her concern for Sara to force the issue.
I wasn’t proud of myself, but I didn’t regret it either. The analyst, the level-headed security chief in me, knew there was no wrong way to achieve a favourable result and the thought that I’d made a mistake. I decided to ignore it, even if I hated how it made me feel.
I knew Nina would call me. Maybe not today, but soon. She could be stubborn. We had sparred verbally enough times for me to understand that the impossible woman never gave an inch, always needing to be in control, but I couldn’t blame her for that as I wasn’t any different.
Even when we’d first met, and the truth of the magical world was new to Nina, she’d insisted on examining my fangs. When I’d refused to show her, she’d tripped me up and shoved her fingers into the side of my mouth, positive I was trying to scam her best friend.
The memory of her body pressed against mine, her small breasts awakening urges I’d been stupid enough to act upon.Fuck!My mind drifted again, and the car swerved, waking Sara.
‘Are we home?’ She muttered, turning toward me. ‘Adam, are you alright?’
‘Not yet, sorry, and yes, I’m perfectly fine.’
‘Yes, you’re bloody wonderful, with the emphasis on bloody. Your lip is bleeding.’ Sara rolled her eyes, pointing to my face, and instinctively, I licked my lips, my tongue scraping against my elongated fangs.
‘Just a minor accident, nothing to concern the mighty Oracle. Go back to sleep.’ I snarked, trying to discourage her from enquiring further.
‘Gods, you are such an arsehole sometimes. Just tell me. I saw your face when you got in the car. What’s gnawing at you?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ I said, hoping she would let it be, but Sara was Sara, and she simply sat up straight and focused all her attention on me.
‘It’s Nina, isn’t it? She’d set you on fire, and you don’t know what to do with those feelings, do you?’ She said it as if she hadn’t just condensed two years’ worth of anguish with one sentence, and my answering groan drew a sympathetic smile from her lips. ‘Adam, I don’t need my seer abilities to notice how you look at her. The hunger in your eyes turns them into seething pools of crimson fire, but of course, if you don’t want to talk about it.’
‘No, I don’t. So drop it.’ I snapped, much harsher than I intended, making her frown before she turned toward the window.
‘Fine, suit yourself. I was only trying to help because I know how much Nina likes you.’ With those words, she closed her eyes, curling up in the chair, and I felt like a complete bastard or, even worse—a fool because all I wanted to do now was to ask why she thought Nina liked me.
Leszek was waiting to greet us, pacing outside his mansion, and as soon as I pulled over, he helped Sara from the vehicle. I saw indulgent amusement in Sara’s eyes as he fussed over her, the love they shared as clear as day. I could only shake my head. They’d been together two years now, but my boss was still stuck in the honeymoon phase.
I parked Sara’s car in the underground garage, blending into its shadows to transport myself to my apartment. It was a valuable skill to have. The ability to manipulate the magical borders of the Nether called the Shadow Realm, folding them to move from place to place, had saved my life enough times that I paid particular attention to perfecting the technique. I didn’t know how most vampire magic worked, my sire having abandoned me before I awoke, so everything I knew was learned in the school of hard knocks. Every skill discovered was practised until I could perform it without thinking.
I didn’t like to remember the moment I awoke from death’s embrace all those years ago, my body contorted by the agony of blood deprivation. If not for the accidental meeting with Leszek in the foggy banks of the Motlawa, I would have died in the first blush of dawn.
Now, I can walk in the sunlight with little discomfort, only sensitive to direct exposure, and not even that when well-fed. However, newborn vampires, before their first feed, cannot face the dawn without being immolated,which explains all the vampire myths, I thought. All our terrible fame probably came from the newly turned, crazed, starving, and caught unawares by daylight as they searched for sustenance.
I was an unclaimed vampire, and that bothered me. Someone created me without care or by accident. I clearly wasn’t a choice; I was more likely a victim of an accidental draining and the potent magic of Gdansk’s old town instead of a traditional blood exchange. At least that gave me the freedom few vampires, especially those as young as myself, could enjoy.
I shrugged off the random thought, just happy to have survived. Leszek went even further, though. When we couldn’t find another vampire willing to take in a stray, he took on the role of Seethe Master until I gained enough self-control not to kill indiscriminately.
I emerged from the shadows in my penthouse, the nearest sensor catching my movement, and a light flared to life, the modern system programmed to give the impression of welcoming candlelight. At the beep from a small console, I reached over, entering the code to disarm the security alarm, and the apartment came fully to life.
Leszek liked his mansion to be as close to nature as possible, each unused space full of plants. I was the complete opposite, enjoying the amenities that science offered and revelling in its precise geometry and symmetry, the shiny metallic surfaces and polished concrete floor giving my penthouse a sophisticated industrial look. Electronic devices were everywhere, and the only soft, plush textures were those I used for sleep and sex, not that I have had much of either the last two years.
‘Lorelai, dim the lights and run the bath,’ I called out, and she dutifully answered, ‘Yes, Master,’ in a soft female voice. Lorelai was the best thing I’d ever received in payment for my services, and I was glad I gave in to the client’s begging.
That client had been a fellow tech head and warlock whose family grimoire had been stolen. I accepted his offer because even though his morals were on the darker shade of grey, he’d never crossed the line into human sacrifice. Upon completion, the warlock handed me an iron box with strange engravings and a USB cable attached. At my raised eyebrow, he had explained that it was the magical version of artificial intelligence, so I accepted, the techie in me gleeful at acquiring a new toy.
Weeks later, after a fruitless search for whoever was leaving wet footprints on my concrete floors, I discovered the sneaky shit had bound a kikimora1 to a computer and that the glitches in my Home AI were her trying to escape. Thankfully, after pulling in a few favours from the local witches and a long discussion with the grateful spirit, we came to a mutually beneficial arrangement, and I now had an assistant who could run everything in my home without the usual repetitions and frustrating mistakes.
