Pick Your Poison Read online

  Maybe...? Blinking, I stared up at him, wondering at the weird man as he let his words trail off.

  “Huh?”

  Smiling that creepy smile of his, he chuckled and bent over me, until I was forced to lean back or rub noses. Eskimo kiss buddies, we would never be.

  “Uhhhmmmm... what are you doing?” Blinking owlishly at our forced proximity, I grimaced.

  Stefan paused and his smile started to falter a little but he shrugged, forcing it back into place, releasing me and placing his hands behind his back.

  “Just seeing.

  My gums below my upper lip started throbbing, throat burning slightly as I inhaled deeply. I was thankful he’d chosen that moment to back the hell up. I’d no desire to lash out at anyone, but I was frightened, no idea what, exactly, was happening to me, and he had my back up.

  Swallowing convulsively to try and relieve the ache in my throat, his proximity bothered me more than I cared to think about. “Please go away, your presence is inducing a migraine.”

  Stefan leaned in again, studying me like a crude experiment gone wrong, as if to eye me for any defects. “Vampires don’t get migraines.”

  “How the hell would you know?” I shot back, the urge to reach out and rub my forehead strong—then smash it against his until he cries like a little bitch, just too damned tempting. “And quit touching me! You make my skin crawl!”

  “Sure it’s not something else?”

  Reaching out for my wrist, he just couldn’t seem to help himself. I hissed and jerked away. Stefan threw his hands up at that, smirking.

  “Like, for instance, simply the way I smell?” The smile was back, wide across his gaunt face, and I felt an angry rattle creeping up my chest.

  “You mean like dead men’s toes and frog’s feet? That kind of thing?” Jaw clenching, my lips pulled back and I let out a long hiss.

  Exposing a fine set of partially dropped fangs, peeking out just over the tops of my regular teeth, I made my intentions clear: back off or I’ll bite you, jackass.

  Whatever Stefan had been looking for, I’d just done it.

  Letting out a long breath, he straightened his shoulders. “Well, that was easy. Didn’t even have to bleed for it.”

  Raising a hand, he flicked his wrist and the door flung closed, the ties at my hands and feet slipping free with his next.

  Rolling the sleeves of his black shirt up, he motioned me over. “That’s what I thought. Come on then, come at me, sweetheart.”

  My voice hissed as I spoke. I felt two long fangs drop all the way down then, the building pressure pressing on my gums receding almost instantly. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

  Wrapping the clean sheet draped over me around my torso tight, I slipped from the bed on the opposite side of him.

  Unease crept through me, trickling up my spine in warning as he crooked his finger, untying the buttons of his shirt with his free hand to expose his neck.

  My eyes darted to the thick veins out on display, thumping steadily as all that warm, delicious smelling blood worked to get through. That’s what I was smelling, that hunger pang inducing smell was blood, and I wanted it so bad it hurt—it didn’t matter whose. Practically drooling at the thought, I gulped.

  Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Even the sound of his steadily beating heart was music to my ears.

  Glancing down at my own chest, fingers sneaking up to press on the warm skin, right between my breasts, no steady thump accompanied the hollow tap and I gasped, panicked. My new existence truly sunk in then and I felt the small room I was trapped in closing in around me, shrinking in on me as it caved in from all sides.

  Chest heaving, though nothing really happened with the action, no great relief or oxygen producing feat to accompany it, a sharp cry died in my throat as I stumbled.

  Gaze whipping to Stefan again, then his neck, I scrambled back, shoving a hand out.

  “Bloodlust hitting you yet?” Stefan tapped his nape, fingers dancing along the smooth column of his tender throat. “Feeling the urge to take a quick bite?”

  Callie’s hasty retreat, tying me to the bed... She’s afraid of me. I can’t be trusted. She was smart to flee. I’ll bet she was the one who’d thought to tie me up, too.

  “Stay back, Stefan,” I warned, shoving the small nightstand next to the bed out of the way to push it between us.

  It felt unrealistically light in my hands as I picked it up and shoved it in front of me, hefting the heavy bit of sturdy furniture with ease.

  Stefan paused, cocking his head, the strangest look on his face. “Come on then, darling. I thought you were hungry?”

  Barriers, I thought. I need barriers. Eating? How can he think of eating at a time like this?! I have to protect them from me. I’m not safe! None of them are safe! Why are they all here?!

  “Oh, better yet,” my finger stabbed at the door as I glanced up from my own mutterings, “get the hell out, and do that magick shit to the door while you’re at it. No one in or out, especially Callie. Tell everyone to leave, right now!”

  She was the food I’d smelled. God... I felt sick just thinking about it. Callie’s blood smelled good enough to eat.

  A low moan rumbled in my throat. “No... I’m a monster.”

  Rushing over and huddling into the far corner of the room, taking the thick comforter folded at the end of my bed along with me, I tossed it over my head. Resting my forehead against the cool wall, hidden away from the world in my little blanket fort, I tried to block out the growing thump-thump of Stefan’s stupid heart as he stood there like some idiotic, understuffed scarecrow.

  At least ten minutes passed and my tummy was cramping like mad, fangs aching, fingers itching as I clenched them tight on my knees. “Leave. Leave. Leave,” I whispered over and over, eyes squeezed shut so tight it hurt. My toes curled in the carpet and I tried to think of anything but that tell-tale heart.

  Thump-thump, thump-thump.

  “Norma?”

  Thump-thump, thump-thump.

  No. No. No. NO! “Go ‘way!” Hissing, I cut the sound short, my skin crawling as my limbs trembled. I had the shakes. If I could, I imagine I’d be sweating bullets right now, my unbeating, dead heart racing like mad if I had one that still actually worked.

  That’s it, a vampire is a blood addict. Divit had saved me by giving me an addiction? “I’m an addict, a blood addict.” For life. “Thanks a lot, asshole.”

  “What?”

  My blanket fort rustled as I shifted. “Not you. Divit. The jerk off cursed me. And why are you still here? Shove off! I said leave!”

  Thump-thump, thump-thump. No. No. No.

  Ahhhh, he was closer, I could smell it. Inhaling deeply, I could almost taste it. Forcing all the air out of my lungs immediately, the noise that left my throat wasn’t at all human. “No! I can’t!”

  “Norma Gene?”

  “I said fuck off, Steffie-kins! What part of that is so h-h-hard for you to unders-s-s-tand?!” Shoulders shaking as I fidgeted in my little corner, twitching like mad—and maybe I am—it was his hand on my arm that did me in.

  “Norma Gene?” His voice was so low and soft as he next spoke, a sadness creeping into it I understood all too well. I glanced up then, dry-crying as he tugged the comforter off my head to stare down at me.

  “I’m a monster, aren’t I? You were testing me. You’re going to make me trust you and chop my head off like you’d tried Divit!” Babbling by this point because, really, anything he wanted to do to me he could, and we both knew it. Helpless as I am, even more so at the moment, I was completely at his mercy.

  “I-” From the look on his face, he’d come to do exactly that.

  My dry-crying worsened, tinged with pain and hurt and anger.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he said instead.

  Staring down at my toes peeking out from my blanket, paler than they’d ever been, the veins a deeper blue than usual, my skin slightly tinged with violet and indigo, I sighed disgustedly.

  “Y
ou shouldn’t. You were right. I wanted to bite you. I didn’t know it at the time, but I’d wanted to drink from Callie, too.” Shoulders slumping, I came completely clean. “For a moment I thought she smelled like scrambled eggs and french toast, or cinnamon rolls or something... Hell, I don’t know. Don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, everyone knows that witch can’t cook for shit.”

  Crouching down to roll the comforter off my shoulders, the man of ice shocked me when he chuckled—a true, genuine laugh—and tried to pull me towards him.

  “But you didn’t,” he grudgingly admitted, a heavy note of respect in his voice. “You’ve had plenty of opportunities, and you’re newly turned, and yet you’ve done none of it.” Shaking his head in disbelief, Stefan’s eyebrows shot up. “Normal Genie, I don’t think I made a mistake. I think Divit made a wise one.” Scowling instantly, he added. “But I’ll murder you on the spot if you ever tell him that.” Back to smiling again, as if Hell had frozen over and I really had died after all, the insane necromancer tried to tug me towards him again. “Now come here.”

  Grunting, still in a frozen sort of paralytic state, I resisted, thinking it all some trick so he could stake me to a wall to saw my head off, just like he’d planned all along. I tried to slap his hands away, hiccupping from all that dry-blubbering, but resistance was futile.

  After a brief and rather pathetic slap fight that made me look like a giant weenie, the warlock won by default, via magick—the cheater.

  A small army of dusty creatures came scurrying after me from the under the bed, their tiny teeth gnashing as their little, black, heartless eyes flashed. I laughed at first, swatting a few away. Who wouldn’t? Dust bunnies? Really?

  Those little dust beasties were small but their bite was a lot worse than their bark!

  Yelping after the first one got his dirty, dust filled paws on my ankle and his grime filled teeth sunk in, I howled at the little dirtballs stinging bite and the indignity of it all, flinging him off. Two more advanced, followed by more of their dirt created brethren, and the germophobe in me caved.

  “I’m going to start calling you a war-borg, broomstick humper.” Grumbling and scowling, I glared as I was given no choice but to give in or get attacked by miniature dirt-imals wrought from magick and the deep pits of some germy hell again.

  Stefan’s finger waved towards the bottom of the bed ominously, a bit of blue sparking from the tip as he fought not to laugh, and I scrambled towards him faster.

  “Hug-outs are for pussies.”

  “You’re trying to piss me off so I’ll go away, but it’s not going to work.” To prove his point, the skinny jerk parked it and situated his long legs on either side of me.

  “You’re manorexic, did you know that?” Lip curling up as I gave him a dirty look, I flicked one of his twig-like appendages. “You make Divit look fat, daddy long legs.”

  “Still stalling.” A small smile tilted his lips and I had to check the ceiling to make sure Hell well and truly hadn’t frozen over.

  Or maybe, just maybe, he was doing this to torture me? Because he knows by now how much I hate him and how much I’d detest the thought? Why, that evil little...

  When it became apparent the crazed warlock with obvious severe mood swings wasn’t leaving until I complied, it was either cave in or torture myself for heaven only knows how long.

  “Fine, but make it snappy. Who knows where you’ve been and Callie only has so much bleach.” Careful to tuck my chin, jaw clamped tight, I made sure not to move a muscle, no pretend breathing, no talking, no nothing, and let him hug it out, like we were freaking hippies or something.

  We’re supposed to be frenemies, damn it. This shit is downright humiliating.

  Stefan waited until a full minute had passed, the most torturous minute of my entire newly dead/undead life, before he spoke. “Vampires settle things with blood debts. I erred in my quick judgement of you, and I’m sorry.”

  Gripping my chin in a surprisingly steely hold, Stefan’s cold black eyes flashed blue as he tilted his neck in offering.

  “I’d give you my wrist, but this is more personal. I’m giving you my trust, Normal.” His voice deepened as it lowered, eyes flashing until electric blue lit his irises. “Something I should have given Divit the benefit of a doubt with years ago.” He paused. “Don’t fuck it up.”

  Squirming, I shook my head, trying to break free, but he cupped the back of my head, bringing me towards him, and I forgot I didn’t need that sucked in gulp of breath when I took it. The sweet scent of blood filled my nostrils.

  He was so close, body heat radiating off of him like a furnace as my palms flattened against his chest.

  “Drink,” he instructed, “but take it slow. You’re stronger than you think. Ease up. Your natural instincts will take it from there, and you’ll know.”

  Fingers digging into his shirtfront, I licked my lips, his skin so close the tip of my tongue caught a faint taste. I hissed, red tinting my vision. There was a sudden banging at the bedroom door, or maybe it had been going on for some time and I was just now noticing, but I was already bending down.

  Lips sealing over a vein at his neck, I licked the spot and struck, fangs burying deep.

  Stefan stiffened, letting out a short cry of shock, jerking, but then relaxed. His hands fisted the folds of my sheet at my back as the metallic tang of blood filled my nose, his own unique flavor rolling over my tongue to slip down my throat. Groaning, grip tightening almost punishingly as I pulled him closer, I lapped at the punctures I’d just made hungrily.

  Like he’d said, I’d know where to go from there, my natural instincts doing their thing. It flew by faster than I’d ever thought possible, this whole take blood now or else thing, fluttering by in a sort of haze. Before I could gather my wits or blink I was slowly pulling back.

  I knew exactly when to stop as my belly quit panging angrily, a strange contentedness—not a fullness, but a lack of hunger—filling me. Bloodlust settled, for now, I laved the twin marks my fangs had made, sealing the wounds with a few swipes of my tongue to lift my head.

  Stefan blinked, snapping out of it, and shook his head, releasing the death grip I realized, belatedly, he had on my ass to stare up at me.

  Eyes finally coming into focus, though still slightly dazed, he admitted, “I... uh, I... That was rather, uhm, surprising.” Clearing his throat, he shifted uncomfortably beneath me and tried again. “I hadn’t expected that.”

  “Expected what?” Surprised and still a little unsettled about the butt grabbing thing, I slipped off his lap, both wondering where Divit was and relieved I’d gotten my first feeding out of the way—and all on my own. It had been somewhat easier than I’d thought, considering.

  I imagined Divit’d be proud, glad he didn’t have to hold my hand through the whole thing, but I was still stung he’d missed it. Why had he left? Was he ever coming back? My chest hurt at all the unanswered questions. Why had he left... me?

  The entire time I’d fed, he’d been on my mind. Visions of that night, my last night alive, back at my place, being holed up in that crazy bathroom, had flashed through my mind.

  Offhandedly, I wondered what he would taste like now. Would he be the same? Stefan had been sort of rich but bitter, like dark chocolate and cream, but I preferred my meals like my men: a little on the spicy side.

  Adjusting my sheet over my chest, I glanced around the room. The place was trashed, Stefan still slumped in the corner looking dazed, and someone was thumping madly at the door.

  Walking over, I went to open it, surprised when I gripped the knob and sparks shot off, but it turned. Peering around the other side, I found Callie and Divit staring back at me, an array of emotions flitting across their faces. Divit’s customary sardonic glower was more of a dark, thunderous scowl, but I was glad to see it.

  “Oh, good, you’re back.” Lips tipping up of their own accord, I couldn’t contain my smile. “And you’ve changed.” My eyes scanned him greedily. “You clean up nice. I l
ike that shirt on you.”

  Nostrils flaring, Divit’s eyes narrowed. His long arm slapped over the door above my head and he forced it open, pushing his way past. “I never left,” he muttered, growling low.

  The sound sent a shiver of excitement down my spine, while his admission had me frowning. I followed after the man in the tight black shirt and equally as dark ass-hugging jeans like an eager puppy, breathing in his yummy scent as I went. Mmm. Mine.

  Callie was left staring after us with the strangest look on her face, my long bed sheet trailing after me like a bridal train as I tossed her a friendly wave and a quick grin, and took off.

  “You... asshole!” Divit snarled, jolting to a stop as Stefan stumbled to his feet.

  Two distinct puncture wounds stood out against the warlock’s smooth, pale skin like twin, shining beacons. Too busy panting after the vampire to realize he’d stilled so suddenly, my eyes glued to the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, I would have slammed right into his back if Callie hadn’t noticed and stopped me.

  “Hold on, mate, it’s not what you think.” Stefan glanced at Callie, who was still standing by and watching the drama unfold as he hastily buttoned up his shirt.

  “Mate? Mate?! That,” the enraged vampire jabbed a finger in my direction, “is my mate! Mine! You... You, you sniveling little worm, just shared blood with my woman! First blood!”

  “I- We- What?! Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Making a cutting motion neither man was paying any attention to, I tried to nip this mess in the bud. “Back the truck up, glitter-butt!” Mate, not friend-mate, means married—I speak enough werewolf to know. Others mate forever—forever-forever. Those assholes—now me, too—live for a long-assed time.

  “It wasn’t like that, regardless of how this may seem.” Chin lifting stubbornly, dark eyes flashing electric blue as the warlock’s hands folded over the front of his pants, something painfully obvious came to light.

  “Oh, my god, I gave Steffie-kins a hands-free handy! And I didn’t even know it.”

  Horror stricken, I glanced to Callie, who was trying desperately not to laugh, red-faced as she cupped her hands over her mouth, her wide green eyes dancing as she bent over, snort-chortling.