Stakes & Stilettos ib-4 Read online

  Stakes & Stilettos

  ( Immortality Bites - 4 )

  Мишель Роуэн

  Newly vamped Sarah Dearly wants her normal life back, but fate is fighting against her. She tries to get a regular job and gets staked in the interview, only to be rescued by a masked vampire who calls himself the Red Devil. Then a wallflower-turned-witch curses her, making her a bloodthirsty, sun-allergic nightwalker--the worst vampire there is. As if all that weren't enough, she can't get married because her 600-year-old boyfriend, Thierry, is in a centuries-long marriage of convenience he can't escape.

  As Sarah's nightwalker tendencies make her more dangerous, even to those she loves, she'll have to counteract that curse, unmask the increasingly intriguing Red Devil, and get a commitment from her man. But if that's what it takes to secure her happiness, Sarah is ready...even if it means embracing her inner vamp to do it.

  Prologue

  Ten weeks ago

  She wasn't wearing any shoes. That was his first impression.

  His second impression was that the attractive brunette was completely insane. She had to be if she was approaching him.

  He watched warily as she struggled through the narrow opening in the barrier and stared out at the sight before her. She was now perched alongside him on a support beam of a tall bridge high above a very dark, cold river.

  Her eyes, wide with fear, finally landed fully on him.

  "Hey!" she called out. The swift wind blew the bottom part of her thin, silky dress up above her knees to show off her long legs. Her leather coat, more fashionable than adequate as protection against the cool early winter chill, gaped open in the front.

  Don't come any closer, he thought. She was going to get herself killed climbing out past the safety barrier of the bridge. Dying was his goal that night, but he'd rather not see anyone else suffer the same fate.

  "Go away," he said simply.

  She didn't go away. Instead her gaze moved around erratically. "Holy crap. This is high up, isn't it?"

  A marvelous observation. He eyed her as she shuffled closer to him. Insane. Most definitely insane.

  "Help me!"

  He frowned. "Help yourself. Can't you see that I'm trying to kill myself here?"

  Quelling any thoughts of empathy, he gazed down at the dark waters of the Don River hundreds of feet below them. Quite honestly, there could not be a worse time for him to have been interrupted. She was putting herself into extreme danger.

  "Help me first and then kill yourself," the woman suggested.

  Who was she? What was she doing there? Did she know who he was? Had she been sent to stop him from ending his already overlong life?

  No. The young woman who'd chosen to climb out onto the bridge in bare feet at the very end of a particularly cold month of November hadn't sought him out in particular. He could see it in her eyes. He could taste her fear. This was merely a coincidence.

  A very inconvenient coincidence indeed.

  The woman bore unmistakable fang marks on her neck. She'd recently been bitten by a vampire.

  There was fresh blood on her throat.

  He ignored the dark hunger that swelled within him and the ache of his lengthening fangs.

  He hadn't drunk blood in a hundred years. No need at his age, but the want was still there.

  Every day. Every hour.

  Long shadows appeared behind her as three men approached. His breathing hitched. Were they after him? Had he been followed to the bridge?

  Tonight was to be the end of his long life. The end of a so-called master vampire. Thierry de Bennicoeur, dead after nearly seven hundred years. Had they followed him to witness his fate?

  No, the men's gazes locked onto the woman instead. A tall blond man—a human—smiled as his eyes flicked to Thierry and then back to her.

  "A friend of yours?" he asked.

  "Yes," the woman said quickly, her troubled gaze moving to Thierry again. "A good friend. And he's going to kick your ass if you don't leave me alone."

  Thierry raised an eyebrow. Kick his ass?

  The blond man snorted. "That I'd like to see."

  "Vampire hunter," Thierry said out loud. He had confronted so many hunters in his time that it was obvious to him what the fair-haired man was, and the wooden stake the hunter held tightly in his grasp was only one clue.

  "Who wants to know?" The man's gaze slid from the woman's bare feet to her long lean legs. It was the gaze of a predator, and not one who wished only death for his victim.

  Hunters enjoyed playing with their prey—especially helpless and attractive female fledglings—before killing them.

  "Who I am is none of your concern." Thierry forced his voice to remain impartial. "You are invading my personal space. Kindly take your business elsewhere."

  And leave the woman in peace or I will kill you.

  "We've just come to claim this little piece of vampire ass," the hunter said, "and we'll be on our way, so you can get back to whatever it was you were doing."

  The young woman drew closer with shaky steps and grabbed the hem of his coat.

  "Don't let them hurt me," she implored. "Please."

  He could feel the warmth from her body.

  Walk away, Thierry told himself sternly. Leave them. Leave her. You don't know this woman. Where is her sire? This should be his responsibility.

  Now on his hands and knees in an attempt to crawl through the crudely cut opening of the bridge's fenced barrier, the hunter grabbed her ankle. To Thierry's surprise, the woman kicked the hunter directly in his eye.

  Good aim. One of the best self-defense targets on the human body—groin or eyes. The hunter screamed and clutched at his face.

  The woman scrambled away and almost lost her footing. Thierry reached out and steadied her, pulling her against him.

  She looked up at him with surprise. "Thank you. I thought you weren't going to help me."

  "Reflex," Thierry said. And it had been. For the most part.

  There were two other hunters who began to climb through the barrier. They both had sharp weapons. While Thierry didn't really care about his own fate that night, he had now made a stand when it came to the woman's. Her safety, at least for the next few minutes, was his only priority.

  Unfortunately, there was only one choice of escape.

  He looked down. "I suppose we'll have to jump."

  The woman's grip tightened at his waist. "Wasn't that your original plan? And wasn't your original plan to kill yourself?"

  He thought of the stake tucked into the back of his pants with which he had truly planned to kill himself before allowing his remains to be swept away by the river below.

  It would have to wait for another time.

  "With my luck the fall tonight won't kill me," he said with a sigh. "But you just might."

  He tightened his arms protectively around her and without waiting for another protest, he jumped off the bridge. Her scream rang loud in his ears.

  He couldn't remember the last time he had had a beautiful woman cling to him so fiercely.

  For the briefest of moments it made him feel alive and wanted—very dangerous feelings for someone like him to have.

  However, when they landed, the freezing cold water managed to douse those feelings and reality quickly set in.

  He'd have to get rid of her as soon as possible. There was no other choice. Having a woman like this in his life—so young and fresh and filled with vitality—could only prove to be a deeply dangerous mistake.

  For both of them.

  Chapter l

  My name is Sarah Dearly. Fledgling vampire and part-time bartender, at your service.

  Welcome to my highly dysfunctional life.

  Two and a h
alf months ago I was bitten and turned into a vampire by my blind date from hell, chased across the city by vampire hunters, and managed to meet the handsome master vampire of my dreams right before we had to jump off a bridge together to escape getting killed. And that was all the very first night.

  Since then things have been steadily… oh, insane would be a good word. But I've managed. Ten weeks as a vampire had changed a whole lot of things in my life, but I was still me. Still Sarah. Still not anyone to be afraid of in a dark alley. Ten weeks without my biting any necks or magically turning into a bat. "Evil" is definitely not my middle name.

  I'd been damn lucky, all things considered. Although I do think changing into a bat would be a nice gift-with-purchase for this whole, unfortunate vampire deal.

  "Sarah, are you ready to meet the man who'll change your life forever?"

  I glanced up from the dirty martini I was shaking and looked across the top of the bar at the grinning redhead. Her name was Heather, a former waitress at Haven, and her enthusiasm was almost contagious. Almost.

  "Change my life forever, huh?" I said. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

  "Definitely a promise. New directions, new opportunities. A chance at a fantastic future."

  "If I even get the job."

  "You know me. Of course you'll get it!"

  Okay, I had to admit it. I was a little excited. Especially since Heather had asked me personally to interview with her new boyfriend that very night. We were meeting at a café just down the street from the club. We weren't meeting at Haven because it was vamps-

  only. It was a rule. Heather's boyfriend was human, but obviously pro-vampire since he was with her, so it was all good.

  I liked Heather a lot. She was fun and funny and never gave me a hard time when I worked the bar and she waited tables. She'd quit two weeks ago after she met the man of her dreams, who had started a brand-new merchandising website called Vamp

  International that was set to launch next month. The job I would be interviewing for dealt with the fashion end of things and it sounded, from Heather's description, too good to be true.

  Plus, it paid big bucks.

  I pulled my tip money out of a small juice glass next to the till. A small juice glass was all I needed. Nobody tipped the bartender here. Or very rarely. I'd noticed that on the average, vampires were extremely lousy tippers.

  Haven was my boyfriend's nightclub, which catered to the fanged citizens of Toronto, open from 9:00 p.m. until nearly dawn.

  Less than a week from now Haven would be transferring over to the new owners. Thierry had recently made the decision to sell the club, and apparently the new boss wanted to bring in his own servers. A bummer, but not an unexpected one. Luckily, it would still be a vampire club—one of only two in Toronto at the moment—so it was nice to know there would still be somewhere to hang out, but I couldn't count on getting a semiregular paycheck anymore.

  Therefore, this job opportunity had seriously come at exactly the right time for me. I was broke.

  I felt a warm hand at the small of my back, and I turned away from Heather to see Thierry now standing next to me. I hadn't even seen him approach. Master vampires—they were a sneaky lot.

  Thierry was, in a word, gorgeous. At first glance, or even second, you'd never guess he was pushing seven hundred years old. He looked more like he was in his midthirties, and super hot with the whole tall, dark, and fangsome thing going on.

  A lot of people were either scared or turned off by his sometimes cold and aloof manner, but I preferred to think of that as part of his charm. I knew underneath that icy exterior was a man as wonderful on the inside as he was on the outside. But I was fine with it being my little secret.

  "Is everything all right over here?" he asked.

  I nodded. "I'm about to take off for my interview."

  "Hi, Thierry," Heather said, smiling widely at him even though I knew she was one of those who didn't like him very much. "Why don't I wait over here for you, Sarah?" She moved far enough away to give us some privacy.

  Thierry moved his gaze to mine. His eyes were a medium gray color, but somehow managed to look metallic, like silver. It was a bit spooky until you got used to it.

  "You don't need to get another job," he said.

  "Oh, but I do. I definitely need a nice, normal job to help pay the bills." I fished into the juice glass and pulled out the penny that was stuck to the very bottom, and then knelt to tuck the money into the front pocket of my purse. "I wanted to buy a new dress for the reunion, but since I can't afford it, I'm going to ask Amy if she has something I can borrow."

  My ten-year high-school reunion was in two days. Despite my life being in constant peril in the ten weeks since I'd been turned into a vampire, things had cooled off enough that I felt that I didn't want to miss it. It was to be my last gasp as a normal person before I finally, grudgingly, accepted my new life as a vampire. And yes, life as a vampire.

  Vampires being the walking dead was just another unfortunate rumor, like me being a weapon of mass destruction.

  The rumor currently going around was that I was the "Slayer of Slayers." Sheesh. You kill one vampire hunter in self-defense—an act that had now grown in legend to twelve hunters and counting that I'd taken down with my well-manicured, but lethal hands—and a girl gets a reputation.

  I hated to admit it, but I think that's one of the reasons Heather's boyfriend, Josh, had agreed to meet me for an interview at this crazy hour of the night. He was impressed by my rep. Hey, if it helped to get me a cool new job, I would milk it for all it was worth.

  Thierry frowned at me. "Of course you should have something new to wear. Why didn't you say anything to me earlier?" He slid his hand into the front pocket of his black suit jacket, pulled out a money clip, and proceeded to peel off a few bills. "How much do you need? Will a thousand be sufficient?"

  "Uh… yeah, that should just about do it." My mouth began to water at the sight of the money, but after a moment I forced myself to hold back the drool. "Wait, no. No, Thierry, please. I don't want to take any more of your money."

  "What do you mean?"

  Ninety percent of my body reached out to that roll of money, but 10 percent was holding me back. That 10 percent was surprisingly strong. "Look, I feel like I've sponged off you for over two months. Now I have this opportunity to interview with Heather's boyfriend so I can make my own money. You shouldn't have to be there with a handout whenever I get sick of what I'm wearing."

  "I don't mind," he said.

  "Well, I do. I need to find my own way when it comes to this sort of thing."

  God, I was being so mature. It was a little sickening. For my entire life I thought having a rich boyfriend would be the perfect solution to all of my problems, and don't get me wrong, it was fantastic. But it also made me feel… dirty. And not in a good way. It made me feel that by taking his money I was less of a person. Less of a vampire. Whatever.

  Ten weeks ago I'd been fired from my full-time, lousy-paying, but regular job as a personal assistant. My funds had dwindled away to practically nothing. I was down to bartending tips and Thierry's generosity. A real job was way overdue.

  A small smile curled up the side of his mouth. "Are you saying that you don't want me for my money?"

  I smiled back at him. "Oh, I want you. But the money thing is something I need to work out for myself."

  He reclipped the money and slid it back into his pocket. "If you insist."

  I felt a quick pang of regret but stifled it. It was the right decision. I wasn't a kept woman.

  And it's not as though we were married and half of Thierry's bucks immediately became mine.

  No, the position of "Thierry's wife" had already been filled by a gorgeous seven-hundred-

  year-old French vampire named Veronique.

  She wasn't in the country at the moment.

  Not that she minded our relationship. In fact, strangely enough, she encouraged it. They'd been married "in name only" now for ove
r a century. Apparently divorcing somebody you'd been hitched to for six hundred years wasn't something you could do by simply hiring a lawyer and signing some paperwork.

  Didn't bother me.

  Much.

  Okay, it bothered me a lot, but I tried not to dwell.

  "Stay close to Heather," Thierry said. "And promise to return here as soon as this interview is over."

  "I promise."

  It sounded bossy, but he was just being careful. When my reputation first became known

  I'd had a couple of bodyguards assigned to guard my body. I now had just one. A big brute of a guy appropriately named Butch. He was also a vampire, which definitely helped.

  My last bodyguards had been human. One of them had also tried to kill me, but that was another story.

  However, Butch had recently requested a few personal days for unknown reasons, which I would assume were personal. This meant that I was currently bodyguard-free, so it was vital that I be with somebody trustworthy at all times.

  Frankly, it felt as if I was constantly being babysat, but if it kept me breathing I would tolerate it for as long as I had to. The reputation would fade away and the hunters would move on to something more interesting sooner or later. I hoped it would be sooner.

  Lately things had cooled off considerably on the hunter front. I'd been informed there was some kind of vampire-hunter convention going on down in Las Vegas right now that the hunters were flocking to like wooden-stake-carrying birds flying south for the winter.

  Remind me to stay away from Vegas at the moment. Only a crazy vamp with a serious death wish would show his or her face down there with all of those hunters lurking about.

  "Then I wish you the very best of luck with your interview." Thierry leaned over and brushed his lips against mine. Our relationship had definitely improved lately. Sure, he tended toward the strong silent type, and he did have a bit of a… dark side. To put it extremely mildly.

  But kissing me in public was a definite sign that things were better than ever.