Love Bite (Vampire Romance) Read online




  Love Bite

  Celia Kyle

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  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  About the Author

  Blurb

  Zoe got fired, bounced a check, came up short on rent, and sold her blood. All in one week. How’d she sell her blood? It sure as heck wasn’t a plasma center. Nope, she went all out and headed to the vampire club, Claret, to get her fang on. She hadn’t counted on the vamp to be over six feet of Viking god and sexiness. Arik can put his fangs anywhere as far as she’s concerned.

  Only drawback? One of the vamps Arik sired is pissy and wants to play with Zoe. Until she’s dead. Can Arik find her before his bloodchild decides he’s done playing with his food and is ready to take a hunk out of her?

  1

  Zoe’s salvation didn’t come from the lottery. Or a handful of balloons with a big check because she won a sweepstakes. Or even a gameshow host telling her to “come on down.”

  Nope, her rescue was lime green. Or yellow. A lime yellow-green? Whatever color it happened to be, she was more concerned with the bold, black type and cute cartoons that encouraged her to donate plasma.

  For money.

  Mooon-eeeey.

  Was she really considering selling her plasma?

  Zoe stared at the sheet of paper, one of those weird flyers that randomly ended up under car windshields. Usually they were ads for nightclubs, gyms, or car repair shops. Today? The local donation center was peddling themselves.

  She nibbled her lower lip, staring at the page and considered her options. Like, the fact she had zero. In one hand, she held the flyer, in the other, she clutched her last paycheck from her job. Last because… she wouldn’t sleep with her boss. Cliché? Yes. Still her reality? Yes.

  Her attention then shifted to another envelope on the kitchen counter—a statement with a great big “insufficient funds” stamped in not-so-pretty red letters.

  This wasn’t her. Like, seriously. She’d gone to school, dammit. She had a degree… that she was still paying for. But it was a degree!

  Zoe groaned and leaned forward, resting her forehead on the cool, granite kitchen bar. She closed her eyes, hiding from the three pieces of paper that consumed her thoughts. Fired. Overdrawn. Sell blood.

  Oh, add “need to pay rent” to that list. Sure, rent wasn’t all that much since she shared a loft apartment with three other gals, but Zoe couldn’t expect her friends to carry her financially. She’d gotten into this stupid, idiotic mess. She’d get herself out of it. Her immediate issues were covering the overdraft in her account and paying rent. She could finagle a few bucks out of her brother and… She rolled her head to the side, temple now on the hard stone, and spied the yellow-green, obnoxious flyer. And she could sell plasma. She had two weeks to raise the cash she needed. Four donations would net her a total of two hundred-fifty dollars between the regular pay and “bonus” the flyer promised. That’d cover a good hunk of rent, her tips from her waitressing job could pay for the rest and her brother would give her—

  A hand appeared out of nowhere, snatching away her chosen method of deliverance from financial panic.

  “Whatcha got?” Gwen held the sheet in front of her and Zoe winced. Gwen was sweet yet sarcastic, knew everything about everyone, wasn’t a slob, and had advice to spare. Zoe had a feeling she was about to get a dose of unwanted advice. But if it happened before the other two gals got home, she might only have to listen to the mess once.

  That’d be nice. She really hated being the youngest chick in the loft. The other three always thought they knew better. Zoe wouldn’t admit that sometimes they were right.

  “Nothing.” I reached for the page, anxious to grab it back, but Gwen danced out of reach.

  “Uh-huh.” Gwen popped her gum and waved the flyer. “This doesn’t look like nothing.” Then she got back to reading before giving Zoe a confused frown. “You want to— “

  “Who wants to what?” The loft door thumped shut and I groaned. Aubrey was home—hilarious drunk, rocked power suits like they were going out of style, and also thought she knew everything.

  “Zoe wants to donate plasma,” Gwen called out, voice carrying through the cavernous open floorplan.

  The thump and clunk of Aubrey’s shoes hitting the wood floor reached her and soon the soon-to-be lawyer—paralegal but “whatever” according to her—padded around the corner. She had her skirt hiked up, flashing panties and the top of her hose, and fought to push them down while she came nearer.

  “Because we suddenly have an urge to do the community a service?”

  Both women gave Zoe that whole single-eyebrow raised look.

  Zoe hated the “royal we” Aubrey used when she was about to get know-it-all-y. She groaned and closed her eyes again, turning her face back toward the counter so she could hide. If Aubrey was home, that meant the fourth of their dynamic quad would be walking through the door in three… two…

  “Whaddup, my bitches?” The slam of the door shook the front wall followed by the jangling thumps of Natalie dropping her crap. Nat was awesome. She had the patience of a saint and explained things so that the “idiot” parts of her tirades were implied. That’s what came from being a teacher, apparently. She could insult just about anyone and the person would never know it.

  Zoe wanted to be her when she grew up. Though, many would say twenty-five was pretty grown up. Her roommates? Not so much. And Gwen was only a year older than her.

  “Zoe’s selling plasma.” Gwen shouted and Zoe groaned again.

  “She’s a drug addict looking for cash to get her next score?” Nat entered the kitchen, the three of them surrounding Zoe now.

  “Selling plasma is a perfectly respectable way to earn extra cash,” she grumbled. “Didn’t you guys read that article in the paper last Christmas?” It was all about how to earn extra gift-giving money. “And the donation centers are classy.”

  At least, that’s what she hoped.

  “Uh-huh.” Nat rubbed Zoe’s back. “We’ll help you kick the habit, hon.”

  All Zoe could do was groan apparently. “I’m not on drugs. I’m not suddenly investing in my community— “

  “Which is good since they’re paying you. Hard to invest when you’re taking money, not giving it.” Gwen popped her gum and Zoe sneered. Not that Gwen could see because Zoe was still hiding. She even shook her head so some of her dark curls surrounded her in a cozy curtain of hair.

  “I hate you all.” Not really, but it was nice to say when they aggravated her.

  “Nah, you love us. Which is why you’re going to tell us why you suddenly have the urge to earn cash by sticking needles in your body.” Gwen acted all sweet, but Zoe heard the steel in her voice.

  Screw it. It wasn’t like they kept many secrets. They’d roomed together for three years. They’d cried together after breakups, and high-fived when one of ‘em did the walk of shame after a hot night out.

  She patted her hand around the counter-top, feeling for the check and notice from the bank, shoving them toward the three women. The rustle of paper came next, her roommates shuffling the pages around their small circle.

  “Hmm…” Aubrey, considering and always slow to make judgement.

  “Huh.” Gwen, fazed by nothing.

  “Motherfucker.” Natalie, the woman most likely to go to bat for a friend with an actual bat. And she was the one teaching today’s youth not to run with scissors.
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  Because if a person carried scissors, they should use them on another with intent, not accidentally.

  “It’s fine,” Zoe grumbled. “I have a plan— “

  “Selling plasma,” Aubrey broke in, disapproval clear.

  “And getting a loan from my brother. You guys won’t have to cover me. I’m good.” Mostly. –ish. She hoped.

  “You realize this isn’t the way to solve your problems.” Still Aubrey—voice clipped and annoyed.

  “I’m not doing anything illegal.” Zoe wasn’t gonna be able to hide any longer. Not if this argument was about to get serious. She lifted her head and faced her friends. “It’s a viable way to make extra cash and it helps people.”

  “You could sue him.” Gwen held up my check, Manny’s uneven scrawl on the envelope. Come back when you’re ready to ride. “For being a douche, if nothing else.”

  Zoe rubbed her face with her hands, annoyance and exhaustion getting to her. Stress always made her tired, made her want to hide away and just hope her problems disappeared. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Look, I love you guys.”

  “Aww…” Natalie clasped her hands and fluttered her lashes.

  “But I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” She hooked her heels on the rung of the barstool and stood, reaching over the bar to snatch the flyer from Gwen. “And if that means donating plasma to make rent, that’s what it means.”

  All three women crossed their arms across their chests. Well, below their boobs anyway. None of them—Zoe included—was lithe or lean. There was sorta extra cushion… everywhere.

  “You’re determined?” Aubrey started the questioning.

  “Yes.”

  “You won’t reconsider?” Gwen added.

  “No.”

  “You won’t let me slash his tires?” Natalie grinned and I wasn’t sure if she was kidding.

  “No.”

  Silence descended. At least, for a little while. Gwen couldn’t stand quiet and had to fill the dead air with something. “Well, if you’re set on doing something with your blood, you should just become a vamp donor.”

  Vamp donor. Vampire blood donor.

  That set the rest of them off, Zoe included, but her disbelief had her yelling louder than the rest. “You want me to become a blood whore?”

  Gwen ignored the other two and focused on Zoe. “You’re already a whore, Zoe.”

  “I’m— “

  “We all are.” The other two snapped their mouths closed, all of them listening to Gwen. “We all do things for money. I spend other people’s money and make them look pretty. Aubrey saves her boss’s ass because he’s an idiot whose daddy bought him a degree. Natalie herds young, evil children around for hours. We’re all whores for the dolla bills, y’all.”

  Tick tock, seconds passed and not a single one of them spoke. Aubrey finally broke the quiet. She nodded and spoke slowly. “She’s right. Kinda. It’d be just another job.”

  “It’s very… intimate.” I wrinkled my nose. “They invade your personal space and bite your neck.”

  “You can tell them it’s wrist only,” Gwen pointed out.

  “But…” Zoe wasn’t sure what was supposed to come after that “but,” but there had to be something. She didn’t really have a logical reason to smack down Gwen’s idea. It was just… teeth. In her wrist.

  Teeth.

  Wrist.

  Vampire.

  Vamps had been out for a while, stepping into the spotlight, making a place for themselves, and generally melding with night-time society. They had that bothersome day-time allergy to deal with, unfortunately.

  “There are several clubs in the city. They’re always looking for donors and they’re selective in both their employees and members.”

  Aubrey spoke again and I narrowed my eyes with suspicion. “Have you…”

  A light blush tinted her roommate’s cheeks. “We recently took on a new client on a retainer basis. I was required to do a full inspection of the premises and activities.”

  Zoe was no longer the center of attention. Which was damned nice. It gave her a chance to really think about whether she wanted to become a blood… donor to a vamp.

  “Oh, stop staring at me like that,” Aubrey snapped. “It was for work. All I’m saying is, I’m familiar with the process. It’s not painful, the club is tasteful, and the donors are treated with respect or the owner ‘deals with’ them.” Aubrey sniffed. “Vampire law is outside the firm’s purview so we didn’t question how things are ‘dealt with’. We were hired to defend them in the event that there is a human-vampire lawsuit.”

  “Because there has been?” Zoe raised her eyebrows.

  “No, but one can never be too careful.” Aubrey shrugged. “Not all humans take being turned away very well.”

  “But you guys somehow think I’ll be accepted? If they’re so picky?”

  More silence, all eyes on Zoe. She wished Aubrey would say something shocking again.

  Gwen was the first to snort. Aubrey chuckled. Natalie called her an idiot. Really, Zoe wasn’t usually this uncertain, but if she was a vamp sitting down for a good meal, she wouldn’t have picked the gal with a little wiggle and more waggle. She didn’t hate her body, she loved her curves, but… she was also realistic about body expectations. Vamps who had lived for hundreds of years had a lot of time to develop those expectations.

  “Bless your heart.” Aubrey patted Zoe’s hand. God, she’d been “bless your heart”-ed. “Vampire conversion has been on hold for a long time by vamp law. Do you know what that means?” Thankfully Aubrey didn’t expect her to answer. “It means that the youngest vamps date back to the Rubenesque period. They loved them some curvy girls. You’ll have more vamps wanting to suck your blood than you’ll know what to do with.”

  “Plus, vamps pay, like, ten times the plasma center.” Gwen spoke the next words slowly. “Per donation.”

  It was Natalie’s turn to jump in. “A parent of one of my students is in an exclusive contract with one vamp. She gets bitten once a week, five grand each time.”

  Zoe could pay off her student loans in two months and still have money left over with that kind of cash.

  Yeah, this was happening. She met Aubrey’s serious stare. “What’s the name of that club?”

  Just call her Zoe Spencer, blood whore.

  2

  From the outside, Claret didn’t look like the kind of place where a vamp could go to get his eat on. But, apparently, it was. Zoe checked the address on the card Aubrey gave her once more, confirming the logo on the building and address matched the small piece of cardstock she held.

  Yup, she was at the right place.

  Zoe checked her watch, wincing at the time and nibbling her lower lip with a bout of nerves. She’d called the club, inquiring about interview hours, and was told she could come by any time between four and seven any evening, Monday through Sunday.

  Only problem was, her part-time job schedule kept her busy most nights and if it wasn’t her waitressing gig, it was class. Aubrey wasn’t the only one trying to further her education. An associate’s degree only got Zoe so far in the world. Tonight, she had a class at five. Since she’d get dinged for not showing up—what professor took attendance?—missing class wasn’t an option.

  Which was why she stood outside Claret at three instead of four. A quickie interview and then one bus ride should still get her to class by five. She could do this.

  Zoe took a deep breath and straightened her spine, pushing her shoulders back. Her blood was just as good as anyone else’s. There was no reason she shouldn’t be hired to come by a couple of times per week. If she made enough, she could only work for Claret and lose her waitressing gig. It’d make school a lot easier since she’d have more time to herself.

  She left the sidewalk and strode to the entrance, grabbing the handle and giving it a tug. She sighed in relief when it opened, meaning she wouldn’t have to look like a total idiot just yet. Being turned aw
ay at the front door was so not something she wanted to do.

  She slowly padded into the club, her ballet flats sinking into the soft, plush carpet. She blinked and squinted her eyes, trying to see into the darkness of the space. Shadows were cast against the wall, dim lights hanging from the ceiling giving the space an eerie atmosphere. Or that was just her imagination.

  When no one emerged, she moved deeper, scanning the open area for an employee.

  “Hello?” She wouldn’t admit that her voice wavered, fear making it tremble slightly.

  Zoe wove her way through the scattered mix of tables and loveseats, the smooth surfaces glittering in the yellow cast of the lights above. She ran her hand over the back of one of the cushioned chairs, the soft fabric tickling her fingers—soft and silky.

  She spied a bar on the opposite wall, bottles of liquor lining a shelf behind the long, gleaming counter. She doubted the bartender would pour glasses of blood, not when “donors” filled the club, but maybe it was a thing for vamps to drink from inebriated humans?

  She had no idea and the longer she remained in the tomblike club, the more she thought she didn’t want to know. Like, at all.

  But she needed the cash.

  She paused near the bar, turning back to face the open floor. “Hello? I’m here for an interview as a blood who—donor.”

  Zoe couldn’t start off by insulting the very people she was gonna work for.

  “Can I help you?” A moist breath fanned the back of her neck and she jolted, releasing a high-pitched squeak as she spun to face the speaker.

  A man towered over her, midnight hair nearly covering his sparkling blue eyes. Not just blue, though. It was the brightest, most ethereal she’d ever seen. Otherworldly? Was he a…

  He stepped closer, lessening the distance between their bodies. She swallowed hard and eased back, unease flittering in her blood with his nearness.

  “Can I,” he purred the words, a sensual smirk on his lips. Sensual? Maybe that was the look he was going for, but it seemed almost smarmy. Like Manny. Zoe mentally groaned. Was she gonna end up working for people like her ex-boss? “help you?”