“I can’t dance,” she fibbed.
“Everyone can dance. You just need to stop and feel the music.” Viktor smiled, and took the first steps, leading her into a waltz.
Waverly acquiesced as she relaxed into his arms. As a child, her mother and father had taught her to dance, insisting that it brought culture into an otherwise uncivilized world. She couldn’t recall how many times she’d catch them in an embrace, swaying to Motown. But this wasn’t home. And Viktor wasn’t family. He was a dangerous, albeit charismatic, vampire.
“See there, you’re doing quite well,” he encouraged her.
“I’m sorry. It’s just—” She attempted to concentrate, still shocked she was dancing with the vampire who’d saved her.
“Is this about Miami?” Viktor laughed.
“Of course it’s about Miami. I’m sorry to disappoint you but I really am not into that scene. I’m just an art nerd who loves to surf and eat burritos. Watch sunsets. Whatever Teagan was into, that’s not me.”
“No, I don’t imagine it is.”
“Did you know Teagan?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t know her. I rarely frequent that establishment. I was looking more for what you’d call fast food. An in and out sort of thing.”
“But you live in Miami, right?”
“Sometimes. There are at least another half dozen or so locations around the world that I also call home. The world is a big, beautiful place. Why just stay in one home?”
“You don’t need to stay in San Diego.”
“Let’s just say I’m concerned about your safety given what happened in Miami. Just because you’ve decided you’re done playing in the occult playground, doesn’t mean that paranormals are done playing with you. That was a very dangerous place to be. That vampire. He seemed quite attached to you for someone who has only been there once.”
“I didn’t even know him. I swear it. It was just a mistake.”
“But your friend is still missing?”
“Yes, she is,” Waverly told him, her body close against his.
“And do you plan to stop looking for her?” Viktor pressed.
“Well, I don’t know. It’s not like I can take off from my job all the time, but I can’t help but keep looking.”
“Then perhaps you do need protection.”
“I’m going to be fine. There’s nothing else you can do for me.” Waverly struggled not to stare at his mouth, recalling his fangs. She gasped as he gave her a knowing smile.
“They’re not there now, pet. They tend to scare people. Wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” He laughed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Embarrassed, Waverly exhaled a deep breath, reconsidering her words. “It’s just I’m not used to seeing—”
“Fangs?” Viktor smiled broadly, amused with the human.
“Yes. Well, I suppose it’s just a word.” She refused to say anything more about his ‘fangs’ lest he show them to her.
“I’m not uncivilized.” Viktor spun her around as the tempo of the song increased. “I will help you find your friend. And keep you safe. You’re in my charge after all.”
“But this has nothing to do with you. You aren’t responsible.” A nervous laugh escaped her. “This is crazy. You can’t stay here.”
“I’ll admit it’s been years since I’ve been to San Diego. Do you fancy sailing tomorrow? I’ll charter a boat.”
“Sailing?” Waverly loved a day on the Pacific Ocean nearly as much as she enjoyed surfing. What is happening? Don’t say yes. Don’t say yes. “You’ve found my weakness.”
“I aim to please, Dr. LaFleur.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Christianson. I appreciate everything you did for me but I’m not like Teagan. I don’t date vampires. I’m not food.”
“On the contrary, I believe you’re quite delicious.” He winked. “And I haven’t even tasted you yet.”
Arousal and fear threaded through her at the thought of his lips on her neck. “I don’t want to be bitten.”
“Maybe you haven’t been bitten by the right vampire,” he mused.
“Indeed, but I don’t ever plan on letting anyone bite me,” she countered.
Time suspended as she gazed into his eyes. His magnetism enveloped her, and she struggled to break free.
“You all right, pet?” Viktor asked, his voice soft.
“Yes, yes. Everything is fine.” She blinked, focusing on Viktor, attempting to shake off the spell.
Viktor slowed to a standstill, holding her hand, his arm still around her waist. “I’ve got you.”
“I can’t do this.” Her eyes fell to his lips, her voice wavered. “I really should go. I have some work to do.”
Waverly’s heart pounded in her chest as he leaned toward her, his warm breath upon her ear.
“I assure you when I bite you, you will be begging me to do it,” he whispered.
“Viktor, I…" Words failed her, her chest touching his. Her traitorous body responded, flooding with arousal. She imagined his lips on her skin, his tongue slipping between her legs.
Gunshots rang out, shattering the moment. Patrons ran for cover, scurrying about the lobby, ducking behind tables and exhibits. Screams echoed throughout the room as the hail of bullets shot up into the ceiling, raining chunks of glass onto the event.
“Get down,” Waverly cried out, clutching to Viktor as they ducked behind a large stone column.
“I’ll be back,” he whispered and in a blink of the eye, he’d disappeared, leaving her safely behind a thick column.
Waverly sucked back tears as a hot stabbing pain tore down her leg. With her dress torn, she could only see a red pool of blood on the floor. What’s happening?
She searched for Viktor in the pandemonium. From across the room, she saw her vampire, fangs bared, pinning the gunman to the floor. How did he get there so quickly? Although the gunfire was silenced, the chaos continued, people pouring out of the front doors.
Sirens sounded from outside the building, and she breathed a sigh of relief. A gentle hand touched her shoulder and she looked up to Viktor.
“I…I think I’ve been shot.” Tears streamed down her face as she held up her hand to him, blood dripping from her fingers. Strong arms surrounded her, and the room began to spin.
“Hang in there, love,” he told her. “It’s going to be okay. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.
“Help me,” she begged as another stabbing pain sliced through her entire body. A black tunnel swirled in her line of vision, a pin of light fading fast. As if suffocated under a wave, she succumbed to the darkness. “Viktor…”
3
Viktor sat in the velvet chair, staring at the beautiful woman in his bed. He shook his head, inwardly cursing. He should have just taken her to the emergency room. Instead, he dematerialized her to his home in Miami Beach. Her injury revealed itself to be a flesh wound, which he easily healed. Sealing it over with his tongue had been the easy part. As he suspected, the taste of her would haunt him, her exceptional blood both potent and flavorful.