Мишель Роуэн - Stakes & Stilettos

That is, if I didn't suddenly have his vampire girlfriend behind me, pinning my arms down at my sides.

"Let go of me, Heather," I snarled at her. "Right now."

"Not a chance."

"I thought we were friends? Why would you do something like this to a friend?"

"Because I love Josh. But I guess somebody involved with a cold, emotionless jerk like

Thierry wouldn't understand what true love feels like, would you?"

"This isn't love," I managed.

"We're going to be together forever."

"You've only known him for a few weeks, haven't you?"

"It doesn't matter. I know it's forever." Her fingernails dug painfully into my arms. "Do it, Josh. Do it now."

"Let go of me!" I yelled and struggled so hard against her that I almost broke free. She had a fight on her hands to keep me in place. I wrenched to the side, twisting my body to possibly bite her on the nose, but then I felt something very bad slam into my chest.

I gasped.

It was something sharp.

Something extremely painful.

Heather finally released me. "Sorry, Sarah. I wish you'd given us another choice."

My eyes widened as I looked down at the wooden stake protruding from my chest. I touched the end of it with shaking hands, blinking hard.

"Wh-what…?" My mouth was dry. I fell to my knees on the cold, hard ground and stared up at Heather, who'd gone to stand next to Josh. They both looked down at me coldly.

Oh, my God. I'd been staked. They'd staked me.

I couldn't breathe. The pain in my chest was like a living thing that was burrowing into my body. The night that surrounded me began to fill my vision with a growing darkness.

I thought she was my friend. I trusted her.

Too good to be true.

I gasped for breath and fell to my side, my head landing on a patch of thick white snow.

I couldn't see anything. I was blacking out. I was going to die.

Then suddenly there was a whir of movement in my now dark and cloudy peripheral vision. I heard both Josh and Heather yelling.

And then there was only silence.

I felt hands on me, pulling me up to a standing position. Gloved hands prodded at my chest, pushing the camisole to the side. I wanted to protest being groped by whoever it was, but I couldn't find the words at the moment. The world began to fade.

A sharp smack resounded on the side of my face. "Stay with me, Sarah."

Unfamiliar deep voice. Male.

"Who… wh-what—?"

"They won't hurt you again. The stake… it's not in your heart. Almost, but not quite.

You're a very lucky woman. I'd heard that about you—that you're damned lucky. You'll be all right. I promise."

I forced myself to focus my vision enough to see the vague outline of a man close to me, his face mostly covered by a black winter scarf. I couldn't see his features other than a glimpse of his eyes. He wore dark clothes—a long black coat. His hands were encased in black leather gloves. He was tall and strong and he lifted me up into his arms.

"Th… the… st-stake… ?" It wasn't more than a whisper. It hurt to talk.

"I'll let someone who knows how to remove it properly do the honors. I don't want to hurt you. I can't stay, though. I'll get you back to your friends."

I blinked and that hurt, too. "Wh-who are you?"

"They call me the Red Devil."

Frowning also caused pain. "The R-red Devil?"

What the hell kind of a name was that?

"Shh… save your strength. You're going to need it."

The Red Devil—or whatever his real name was—pressed me protectively against his chest and swiftly began walking out of the park. I sensed that we were headed back to Haven, at least I hoped so, but I couldn't be sure since after another moment I passed out from the pain and shock.

It was official.

Being staked sucked.

"She's dead! Sarah's dead!" It was George's voice. He was a vampire waiter at Haven and one of my very best friends. "No wait… she's not dead! She's still breathing!"

"We need to go to my office," Thierry said tightly. "Now, damn it. Hurry up."

The fact that I could hear voices was a good sign. It meant that I was conscious. Or sort of conscious. I currently couldn't see anything, although that was probably because my eyes were closed and they wanted to stay that way. I groaned.

"She's waking up! Sarah! Don't go toward the light!"

"Wh-where did h-he go?" I managed.

"Who? Sarah, please don't try to talk. There was no one outside. Only you. You knocked on the door or we never would have known you were there."

I didn't knock. I couldn't have. I'd been much too unconscious to knock. The Red Devil… he brought me back here and he must have left before the door to Haven opened.

"George," Thierry said. "Please help me bring her to the office."

There was a scuffle. I heard more voices murmuring as we passed through the main area of the club. I was being carried in someone's strong arms. I forced my eyes open a crack to see that it was Thierry. He held me tight against his chest, and his expression was tense as he focused on the direction he was quickly moving in.

"Thierry…" I moaned against his black shirt.

His jaw clenched and he glanced down at me. "Shh, Sarah. Conserve your strength."

He kicked open his office door and entered the room to place me as gently as possible down on his black leather sofa. It still hurt like hell.

"Close the door," he told George.

I opened my eyes wider. George stood by the door wringing his hands. He was a vampire who was over eighty years old but looked like a twenty-something Chippendales dancer with shoulder-length sandy-colored hair, a tall, ripped bod, and a tendency to wear leather pants and tight shirts. He closed the door and came over to my side.

"Sweetie," he said with an audible shake to his voice. "You're going to be okay."

"Really?" My mouth was very dry.

"It might not feel like it right now, but it'll be fine."

I coughed. "Thanks for the vote of c-confidence." I looked down at my chest. The stake was still sticking straight out of it. My breathing was ragged. "That is s-so going to leave a mark."

"Who did this?" Thierry asked.

I swallowed and cringed at the pain that caused. "Heather's b-boyfriend. He… he wanted me to sire him." I gasped for air. "There was no job. She let him stake me when I told him n-no…"

His silver eyes narrowed. "I will kill him for this."

"One thing at a time," George suggested.

"Yes." Thierry's jaw clenched and his expression was grim. His eyes reflected a brewing storm inside. "Sarah, please be brave for me. I need to remove this stake, and since it's so close to your heart, I will need you to be very still."

"Do you want me to leave?" George asked.

"No," Thierry said quickly. "I need you to stay. The blood… there will be too much blood.

You need to keep Sarah safe."

Anyone else might wonder what he meant by that. Was George a trained nurse? No. Was

Thierry squeamish when it came to blood and worried he might pass out and George would have to finish the job?

Nope.

I glanced at the bright red blood already soaking through my nice new white lace camisole. White, of course, because that's always the way, isn't it? Then I looked up at

Thierry. His eyes had already turned from their normal silver shade to the black of a hungry vampire, and when he spoke his words were slurred due to his lengthening fangs.

Thierry had a bit of an addiction to blood. When he got a taste of it he went a little crazy—to say the least. It had happened only once before, by mistake, and he'd nearly drained me dry. Vampires at his age don't need to drink blood at all, and when they do, it only makes them want more. And more. Thierry normally drank cranberry juice now and