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“I’m definitely going insane,” I say, then pinch myself ten times, hoping one of them will take, and I’ll finally wake up. But despite my best efforts, I can’t convince myself it’s all a dream. My arm stings, I’m outside the haunted mansion, and the hot man in front of me just showed me his fangs.
Archie
“I did not just see fangs,” the gorgeous librarian complains as she paces back and forth in front of me.
Since she did just see fangs—mine, to be exact—I choose to stay silent and let her process. Especially since it gives me the perfect opportunity to devour her with my eyes, wishing I had my lips on her, tasting her.
She looks adorable in her bookish t-shirt. It hides her curves, leaving everything to the imagination, and the words on the front make me smile… and wonder just how big she likes her books, and her men. Though now is probably not the time to find out. Not when she looks like she’s about to jump out of her skin.
“How could I have been there?” She groans. “Then here?”
“It’s going to be okay,” I say. “You’re not hurt. You’re safe.”
“But—” She looks back toward the library all the way on the other side of the fields. Her heartbeat picks up its pace, and I place a soothing hand on her arm.
“You know where you are,” I say. “And your little library is right there. It’ll barely take any time to get back.”
Even less time at vampire speed, but I refrain from telling her that.
“But magic? I mean, what the hell?” There are tears glimmering at the edge of her eyes. “I’ve never experienced anything like this before.” She looks up at me, eyes wide. “This shouldn’t be happening.”
She’s confused and starting to fly off the handle, and I’m not sure what to do. Good thing my knight, Freddie, isn’t here, or he’d be laughing his ass off. Four hundred years, give or take, and a crying woman can still make me lose my cool.
“It’s okay,” I say, reaching for her arms and rubbing them up and down. I certainly can’t leave her, not that I would want to. There’s something about her that draws me in. Something I’m not sure I’m ready to examine. She’s pretty, with warm brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes that I could get lost in, but it’s more than that. Though I can definitely appreciate that her body is soft in the way modern women don’t like. She’s got curves that a man can take hold of when he—Where is my brain going? She’s crying and I'm thinking about taking her?
“What’s your name?” I ask, moving closer. She’s trembling, and I can hear her heart racing even faster.
“Janet,” she chokes out.
I lift her chin, trying to get her to meet my eyes. Maybe I can compel her to calm down.
Her sky-blue eyes meet mine, and I am lost. I haven’t seen that shade in forever. Not since before I was turned, and it’s so beautiful. Vague memories of frolicking in green fields and chasing butterflies run through my mind, and I shake myself.
“Well, Janet, you’re safe here,” I say, forgetting all about compelling her. “I may be a vampire, but I would never harm you.” Or anyone else. I did terrible things in my past, but I set aside the monarchy, and I’m living my last years as I choose. Though the thought of stepping into the sunlight and putting a stop to my endless existence is suddenly a little less appealing.
“I’m going nuts,” she says, her eyes darting around the garden. “Glowing books, vampires—How did I get here?”
She’s repeating herself, and her shaking worsens. I have to do something to interrupt her spiral. There’s only one thing I can do.
I lean down and press my lips to hers. She’s so soft and full of life. My body reacts in ways it hasn’t in a long time. Her arms come around me, warm against my cold skin. I deepen the kiss. She tastes of mint and coffee, a heady combination. And when I finally feel her body relax against mine, I’m gone.
Grabbing her waist, I tug her closer. Grinding my hips against her, I groan and cup the back of her head. My fangs descend, and I instantly pull back. She sways into me, completely unaware. I don’t want the kiss to end—I want more—but even I recognize we’re moving too fast.
I take a step back and wait for my fangs to retract while I look her over. She seems better, but I keep my mouth closed over my fangs, just in case.
It floors me, the effect this one kiss has had on me. I hadn’t believed there was anything left for me among the living. I’d been searching for a new reason to live every day and coming up short. I’d been prepared to walk into the sun any day now, but all I want to do is pull her into my arms and kiss her again.
Instead, I ask, “Are you okay?”
She takes a few deep breaths. “I’m better now, but I still don’t understand.”
“Not everything is meant to be understood,” I say, then quote, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“Shakespeare? Really?” she asks, and a smile curves her lips.
I raise my hands. “I enjoyed that play when it was performed.”
“At the festival?” she says. “I saw Hamlet there a few years ago.”
