“Why didn’t you tell me you failed to make contact with the mercenaries? You only said you went to check on Stella in case any hunters were at her home.” I let out a groan. I hate that Neli did not trust me with this information, but part of me wonders if it is not my fault. I am not so forgiving when it comes to mistakes.
“What could you have done that I couldn’t? Also”—Neli blinks, tears forming in her eyes—“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re always saying how inferior I am, which is a total crock, but I knew you would never let me live this down. I’d be hearing about it for the next three centuries.”
She is correct, but that is still no excuse. “Stella could have been harmed. You were harmed. And that is more important than pride.”
“I know.” She sighs remorsefully. “I did manage to call in a favor with Vincente and ensure Stella encountered a few travel delays.”
“Vincente is still alive?” He is an old acquaintance from my Transylvania days, and as any vampire knows, there really is no such thing as immortality. Just ask Kylgorii. Sunshine happens.
“Yeah. He works for Homeland Security now. The night shift. He’s apparently very skilled at sniffing out bombs, and the benefits are really great—medical, dental, 401k.”
“So, in other words, he is still batshit crazy.” Vampires do not require such “benefits.”
“Exactly. Anyway, I got home early in the morning and wasn’t sure what to expect, so I snuck in through the secret tunnel in the wine cellar. Someone attacked me from behind, and then I woke up buried in a grave the next night.”
“So you do not know who killed you?”
“No. But I’m guessing it was one of our private security guys. They probably realized I wasn’t the hunter and tried to cover it up. There’s been no sign of them.”
“Or perhaps it was the vampire hunter who killed you.”
“No. He wouldn’t have bothered with burying me. I’d be charcoal dust right now.”
I am not so convinced. If they thought she was human, they would not have burned the body.
“Either way, I caught that last hunter. He was my first meal, and I’m afraid I forgot to question him before I dined.” Neli turns and heads into her bedroom. I follow. “I just wish I’d been more careful. I knew the mercenary guys were setting traps all over the place.”
Our own security did the deed? I will have their heads! “Oh, Neli. I am so very sorry that you will no longer be my major-dorko. I know it must distress you greatly; however, I assure you that you can continue to launder my shirts and run my winery.”
“Are you for real, Boz? My life is over! I’m a freakin’ vampire! And you’re talking about your shirts?”
“And running my winery,” I point out.
She huffs and shakes her head of wet red hair. “You just don’t get it.”
“But I do. I do get it.” Issue No. 30, Psychology Today. “You are experiencing a great sense of loss. You feel as though your identity has been taken from you. I am merely attempting to provide you with a sense of normalcy while you advance through the stages of grief. Denial, anger, depression, and acceptance.” I scratch my scruffy chin. “Or is it depression, then anger? I cannot recall. But the point is, I am here for you. And when you are ready and have completed your grieving, I shall assist you in finding your very own slave. Someone who will watch after you and, more importantly, whom you may insult as much as you like.”
Neli looks at me from across her bedroom, a frilly pink affair, and then rushes toward me, delivering a firm hug around my midriff. “Oh, Boz.” She sniffles, and I feel a rib crack.
“Ow. Ow.” I attempt to unlatch her from my frame, but she is very strong. “Okay,” I grunt, “baby vampire. Easy on the prince now. Stella would like to marry me in one piece.”
Neli pulls away. “You’re getting married?”
I nod with a smile.
“Oh my God. This is wonderful news.”
It truly is. I get the girl of my dreams, and I no longer have to continue deceiving Neli about giving her the true death. Also, Neli is now free to explore the world and find her own fanged love when she is ready. It may take a while, though. I heard our old friend Nicephorus, widely known as Mr. Nice, has kidnapped the author team of Pamfiloff and Gilmore, forcing them to write my story faster. The crusty old vampire is a romantic and very eager for my wedding. As am I.
“I’ll plan your wedding,” she says excitedly. “Give me some time to make it perfect. It will be my wedding gift to you both. How’s after harvest?”
“But I am quite horny and need to bed my bride as quickly as possible.” Neli understands that I will want to wait until the wedding night to give this honor to Stella. “I cannot afford to wait months for such an event.”
“Boz. Please. You only find your mate once in your existence. It has to be done right, in the old tradition.”
She looks at me with those green eyes. I can deny nothing to her. Neli is like my little sister. Or distant cousin. Or a coveted pet, perhaps. Either way, she is family. “Very well, but please be sure to hurry.”
“Give me a few weeks, and I promise it’ll be the most amazing wedding since Prince Pamfilovamimivich married Meshica Mermana.”
“Oh no. All that gold? I prefer something more in the tradition of the Great Kylgorii Gillmoreanu.” His marriage to Errika the Impaler still lives in infamy to this day.
“You got it. One Gillmoreanu wedding for the record books coming right up.” Neli smiles up at me, flashing a little baby fang, and my heart warms. I can already feel her soul settling into her new vampire body. I know she will find peace. And she will make a very excellent vampire. She had the best to learn from.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Stella
I can’t believe the torture Boz has put me through over the last three weeks. He insisted we wait for our wedding night to be together. I assured him it was perfectly acceptable in this day and age, but true to his ancient, gentlemanly ways, he politely declined. “A vampire only marries his mate once, and it must be done right.”
And then he bit my neck and gave me another one of those mind-blowing orgasms.
Seriously, I can’t even imagine how he’ll be in bed if just nibbling on my neck brings me to the point of insane ecstasy. I’m pretty sure my head will explode tonight.
It’s finally our wedding day. I’m dressed, my makeup is done, and Mom is putting the finishing touches on my hair. Mabel and Eliza have been cooking up a storm for over a week. It was Boz’s idea to have them cater “the nuptial feast for the human guests.” Neli provided a list of traditional Transylvanian wedding dishes to inspire their creations.
Speaking of Neli, I’m not going to lie, seeing her transformation has given me a new perspective on becoming a vampire. Someday. Maybe? I know it wasn’t what she wanted, and it did break my heart that I was partially to blame (had I just stayed in France, she wouldn’t have died), but Neli assured me that she felt surprisingly happy. “I love being able to levitate. It’s so much fun!” she’d said.
I then asked her if Boz could bond with me, since she was now free of him. I wondered if that might be a way for me to have my cake and eat it too. I could stay human, walk in the daylight, have children, and eat normal food. I would stop aging and be with Boz forever. It turns out it’s a possibility.