Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
We’ve never met before but I know who he is, regardless. He moves like a panther, dressed in black pants with a matching shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showcasing tanned forearms, with dark wavy hair that meets his chin, arched brows, and dark brown, nearly black eyes that seem to drink in the sight of me.
“Lena Reid,” Abe says, “may I present my good friend Valtu Aminoff.”
“Dracula,” I say to him, the first time I’ve felt vaguely star struck, and I’ve sung privately for Gary Cooper at his birthday party. After all, Valtu Aminoff was the inspiration for Bram Stoker in his namesake book. He’s probably the most famous vampire around, even though they say the story in the book doesn’t bear much resemblance to the real-life tale. Apparently Aminoff’s is much more tragic.
Valtu gives me a languid smile. “With a body like that, you can call me whatever you’d like, love.”
“Remember she’s here to eat, Val. And by that, I mean blood.” Abe motions at Adonis and Ezra. “Come, let’s get the feeding room ready for her.”
At the mention of the feeding room, my body thrums with hunger.
“Careful,” Abe says into my ear as he walks past. “He’s a deviant and has a penchant for redheads.”
I give Abe a look of surprise. “Does that include you?”
Abe rolls his eyes as Valtu reaches out and takes my hand, his grip soft but strong, pulling me toward him.
“Delighted to make your acquaintance,” he says in a low, smooth voice as the others leave the room. He brings my hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it before flipping it over and running his nose along the veins of my wrist. They seem to stand out like ink now against my white skin, as if he’s hypnotizing my own blood.
Whatever he’s doing is working though, because my knees feel a little weak.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” I tell him.
“I’m sure,” he says, still holding onto my wrist while his other hand snakes around my lower back. “Though I bet you didn’t know I was musician.”
“You’re right. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Not really.” He leans in and smells my neck.
“You’re awfully forward for someone I just met,” I tell him, my eyes widening.
“And you’re surprisingly sheltered for a jazz singer,” he says against my skin as he places a kiss beneath my ear. It explodes like fireworks. “You ought to hang around vampires some more. Then I won’t seem so forward.” He breathes in deeply, enough that my skin erupts in goosebumps. “We could make some beautiful music together.”
“That better not be innuendo,” I tell him.
He pulls back slightly to stare at me, fingers pressing into my waist. “Well, since you already think I’m being forward, I have a question for you. Have you slept with another vampire before, or do you only save yourself for those that work for Mickey Cohen?”
I swallow hard, feeling vulnerable and on the spot. Why did Abe leave me with a deviant again?
“I see,” he says, eyes flicking over my face. “Don’t you know that sex with another vampire is the greatest pleasure you can find in this world?”
My cheeks flush. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re coming on to me.”
He chuckles and then dips his head against my neck, his nose dragging up to my earlobe which he takes between his lips and sucks, causing a red-hot current to shoot between my thighs.
Goodness, this is inappropriate.
Then he pulls back and examines my face, so close I’m not sure how he can even focus. I can only stare into the unending depths of his dark eyes, feeling a little lost.
“Hmmm,” he murmurs.
“What?” I whisper.
You’re already taken for, he says, his voice shooting into my head. I’ve only experienced the telepathic way of talking a few times before. Shows how often I’m around vampires.
Taken for? I ask, hoping my thoughts are being heard in his mind.
He nods, his gaze on my lips. Body, heart and soul, from the looks of it.
I do have a boyfriend, I remind him.
Sure. But it’s not him. He pulls back slightly, keeping a hold of my hand though he lets go of my waist. He doesn’t have your heart or soul. That belongs someone else.
Not Callahan, I think, then wince when I realize he probably heard me.
Valtu grins, like he solved a puzzle. It’s alright. We all have our little things when it comes to love.
I don’t think either of us knows a thing about love, I tell him.
A look of sadness comes across his brow. You’re probably right. I’m still looking for her in every face I see.
I frown at that odd remark—who is her?—while he lets go of my hand and steps away. “Oh Doctor,” Valtu calls out. “Is the feeding room ready? The lady is wasting away before my eyes.”