Page 287 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

“I'm taking you home.” When she still resisted him, he turned and took hold of her shoulders again. He peered at her with sympathy. “Kate,” he said gently. “Do you want me to erase it from your memory?”

She blinked at him, then shook her head vehemently.

“You've seen this before.”

She felt dizzy at that. “I… I have?”

He nodded, soberly. “I've erased your memories. But it's getting to the point where I've erased too much. I don't want to cause any psychological damage.”

It was an odd mixture of relief and fear that washed through her. To know that she had seen this before was proof that she was safe with him. And yet knowing that he'd tampered with her mind was profoundly disturbing. She started walking, willing at least to let him take her home.

When they were in his car, she asked, “So were you going to turn him?”

Fox chuckled. “No, love,” he answered with the charming British accent that helped keep him in boy toys. “We don't turn people and we don't kill for blood. I was just feeding. It didn't harm him a bit and he won't remember a thing.”

“We…?” Her mind raced ahead. “Oh. Stella and Dom. Right?” Fox lived with the owner and manager of one of the nightclubs where their band played. She had always thought it was strange that three adults—none of whom were in a relationship with each other—would live together when they all could clearly afford their own places.

He nodded.

“Wait… are you telling me that vampires don't turn people?”

“No. I'm telling you that we don't. You can think of us as rogue vampires. That's why we're in Tucson, Arizona—it's the last place most vampires would want to be.”

“Because of the sun?” She knew she was being slow on the uptake, but her mind couldn't process all this at once.

“Right.”

“So there aren't other vampires here?”

“Nope.” Pulling up in front of her place, he turned in his seat to look at her. “So, listen, Kate. I'm going to make it so that you can't tell anyone about this. It's for your own good. Mortals who know about vampires usually either get turned or sucked dry.”

She felt like she was going to cry again. He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Kate, I promise you're safe with me. There's nothing to be afraid of. Can you believe me?”

Call her crazy, but she did believe him. She nodded.

“Good. Look at me,” he commanded softly. She felt a little wave of something, or perhaps she just imagined it because she knew he was hypnotizing her.

“Do you want to just leave your keyboard in my trunk until tomorrow?”

She nodded.

“Okay, good night. Call me if you need to talk more about it, okay?”

“Okay, goodnight,” she said.

She went into her little adobe casita and made a cup of chamomile tea to calm her nerves.

As the fear wore off, she felt little shivers of thrill running through her. Dom was a vampire. Dom—the extremely good-looking nightclub owner who was the object of almost all of her fantasies—got even hotter in her mind.

“Mmm, yummy,” said Stella, Dom's bar manager and fellow fang, lifting her eyes toward the door. Kate Strand, the lead singer of the Morphs, had just come swinging through it. She was dressed tonight as Marilyn Monroe—complete with a 50's style dress and platinum curls. Kate's look changed from week to week and she could pretty much rock every look she tried.

“I'll say,” Dom agreed, watching her approach the bar in her black stilettos. She was a lithe little thing—slender with small breasts and hips and more presence than three women combined.

“Oh yeah, she's retro this week,” Fox said absently. It was Fox who had “discovered” Kate and invited her to sing for his band, the Morphs. He was the third vampire in their Tucson nest, and his interests didn't lie with the female sex. Otherwise, he too would surely have been gawking. Pretty much everyone in the bar was rubbernecking her right now. Although she could have been wearing her Spiderman shirt and jean shorts and they'd still be looking.

“Hey, Kate,” Dom said, filling a glass of ginger ale with lime for her.

“Hey,” she said breathily, swinging onto the bar stool next to Fox and beaming at Dom for the drink. “Thanks.”

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