Page 42 of Kiss Kiss Fang Fang


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“Yes, well if the way you smell is any indication, it has been long years since any man so much as came near you with a penis.”

I stifled a laugh. Cara’s cheeks were turning red.

“Do you beat them away with heavy objects?” I asked. I’d noticed the same peculiarity in her scent as well. She nearly smelled like a virgin might, and despite her claims it was hard to imagine she’d really spent any significant time with a man. “I know I’ve been away from the world for a long time, but you appear to be perfectly breedable and in good health.”

Cara gave me a long suffering, dry look. “I can’t even tell if you’re being serious anymore.”

“Lucian suffers from delusions. Particularly, the delusion that he’s funny. Don’t mind him.”

“At least he doesn’t want to eat me,” Cara noted.

Not exactly true, I thought.

“I want to drink you,” Seraphina said. “And I’d leave enough for your little heart to keep beating. You wouldn’t have to worry.”

“She won’t need to worry,” I said, “because you will not feed from my human.”

“His human,” Cara said in a mockingly deep voice. “For somebody who talks like I’m basically a rental, you can be very possessive.”

I moved back to the wall, feeling myself fume on the inside. She was right, of course. The things I said didn’t match with the conflict raging inside my chest. I didn’t want to give up Cara when the bond collapsed. I didn’t want to be responsible and let her grow old and live her own life outside my world.

She was a connection back to a time when my life was brighter. She reminded me of what it felt like to be human. And even though I knew I was a fool for thinking so, I thought that quality in her would still remain if she was no longer mortal.

I clenched my fists at my side. But I was not going to discover that truth. Because I was not going to be selfish and reckless. I was going to do what I said. Protect her, then return her as safely as I could to the life she’d lived before we crossed paths. That was the only way it could be.

22

Cara

The dress Seraphina gave me was itchy and hot. I was wearing what felt like seven layers and it was nowhere near chilly enough outside to call for it. But I admittedly enjoyed the way Lucian kept sneaking glances my way. I wondered if the puffy, old-school dress reminded him of the girls he’d chased before he was a vampire.

I tried to picture that.

I pulled up a mental image of Lucian and then tanned his skin. I tried to remove some of the icy intimidation that seemed to radiate from him. I imagined that dimple and easy laughter. I thought of him teasing a girl in a small chapel classroom over a hundred years ago.

“Why are you smiling?” Lucian asked.

“Was Lucian the name you were born with? Or do you guys get to choose kind of like a superhero name when you get turned? I think I’d want to be something cool. You know? Like, Opal Waterfall.”

Lucian let out a spurting laugh. He pressed a fist to his mouth. “Uh, Opal Waterfall would be quite the name. But, no. We keep our names. We only take the name of the family that turned us.”

“Did you say what ever happened to the guy who turned you? Dominic, right? How did he die?”

“You don’t need to know about things that happened before you even existed.”

I folded my arms, which pressed my cleavage up into the little square window cut down from the neckline of the dress. Lucian’s eyes drifted in that direction, and I naughtily didn’t uncross my arms.

He teased me at every opportunity, and it was only fitting that I return the favor when I could manage it.

“Will Bennigan be at this place?” I asked a little while later. We were arriving outside another decrepit looking bar downtown. A tall man in a dark suit waited out front—a vampire, I assumed.

“That’s another question.”

“Questions are how you get to know people. Excuse me, but if I’m forced to be stuck at your hip and constantly visualizing wild, kinky sex dreams about you, then I want to at least know if you like crunchy or smooth peanut butter.”

Lucian stopped me suddenly. “Wait. The sexual dreams. You said they are kinky. What is unusual about them?”

“Uh, I don’t think it’d be appropriate to really recount the details with you.”

“It is important. It could mean you’re in danger.”

“What?” I asked, heart starting to pound. “I mean, I just had one where you kind of… you know, bit my neck while we were, you know. And then there was one where you kept saying ‘I’m gonna fang you so dirty, little human. I’m gonna fang you so hard.’” I could feel my cheeks blazing with red heat, but figured I’d gone this far, and I might as well tell him everything if it was important. “And there was also one where you were wearing a cape and had your hair slicked back. You came in through my window and you said…” I trailed off. My throat went completely dry and shut itself in self-defense. Do not finish that sentence. Surely he doesn’t need every little detail.

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