MaryJanice Davidson - Dead Over Heels

“I meant, your money is no good here, Majesty.” And she—God, this was so embarrassing—she actually went down on one knee and bowed her head to me. “You’re The One, the foretold queen, and you’ve rid us of Nostro and Marjorie in two years.

My life is yours.” She looked up, green eyes twinkling. “Or, at the very least, I can pay for your drinks.”

“Uh . . . that’ll be fine, Marcia.” I was so rattled I didn’t know what to do. Pat her on the head? Wave her away? Invite her to join us?

Luckily, Sinclair did know what to do. “Your loyalty is noted and appreciated, Marcia. Now leave us, dear.”

Quick as a snake, Marcia was on her feet and away from the table.

Hmm. Maybe I should try that.

“Just in time,” Jessica commented. “I was about to puke.”

“ I didn’t know she was going to do that,” I snapped. “It was so incredibly—”

“Vampire hearing,” Sinclair said quietly.

“—nice of her that I was speechless,” I amended hastily.

Someone waved at our table, and Sinclair stood. “I’ve received some faxes from St. Paul. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you keep ditching us,” I warned him. “You’ll pay.”

His eyes gleamed, and he kissed my knuckles. “I look forward to it. Our room, half an hour?”

“Maybe,” I sniffed, pretending my thighs weren’t already tingling.

“Oh, barf ,” Jessica said. “I never thought I’d wish the cancer would come back to distract me, but . . . ”

“Don’t even joke about that!”

“So, the bloodsuckers are happy because you’re the best of a bad lot, eh?” Nick asked.

“And just when I thought you were done being a dick,” I grumbled.

“Honey, I haven’t even—wait.”

“Wait, what?”

But Nick was looking across the lounge, out into the lobby, where a lone girl was wandering around. She was startling looking, with shoulder-length platinum hair and pale skin. And she was dressed in a white nightgown, in bare feet.

“Must be a kid of one of the guests.”

“Yeah, but it’s a pretty fucking dangerous place for a kid to be wandering around, don’t you think?” Nick was already getting up. “Just a sec.”

Jessica and I looked at each other. “Are we really going to let the guys have all the fun on this trip?” she asked.

Then we got up and ran after Nick.

Hon? Can I talk to you for a sec?” The little girl—couldn’t have been more than ten—whirled at Nick’s voice and I saw she had huge blue eyes, eyes the color of the sky. Then she laughed and ran off.

“Wait! I need to talk to you! Where are your folks?”

All three of us ran after her because—shit!—she had run out the lobby door, out of the (relative) safety of the crowded lobby. Her white blond hair streamed after her like a bridal veil and I thought that I had never seen such a beautiful child. Real tempting pickings for the asshole bloodsucker who liked to munch kids.

We came out in time to see her disappear around the block, laughing. I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, “We’re not playing tag, kid! We gotta talk to you!”

No response. I glanced at my human friends. “Later, gators,” I said, because I was going to do my Bionic Woman thing in a sec and they had no chance of keeping up.

But even running as fast as I could, by the time I rounded the block, the kid was nowhere to be seen.

I trudged dejectedly back to them. “That’s great. Now we get to wait for another Goddamned crime scene.”

“If she lives in the hotel, she probably knows a hundred ways to get back in. Like Eloise,” Jessica suggested. “I think she’ll be okay. She certainly gave us the slip easily enough.”

“Good point,” I said, cheering up.

“All the same, I think I’ll hang out here for a while,” Nick said. “Honey, you go up to the room and get some sleep.”

“And leave you out here in the dark by yourself?”

“Uh . . . hon, I’m a cop.”

“A human cop looking for a kid-killing vampire! Besides, the Advil worked fine. I’m not even tired.”

“Well, shit. That means I have to stay out here, too.”

Jessica and Nick both looked surprised. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Oh, like I’m really going back inside to have nasty sex with Sinclair while you two are walking around trying to prevent vamp-on-kid crime. That’d only make me the biggest jerk in the world.”

“Well—” Jessica began sweetly, but Nick cut her off.

“Seriously, Betsy. Go inside. We’ll just walk around out here for a little while and if we don’t see anything, we’ll come in. And if we do see something, we’ll call your cell.” He put a (gentle!) hand on my arm. “Really, go. It’s your honeymoon, right?”

I was completely torn. Do the right thing, and stick with my human, fragile, easily shreddable friends? Or take the olive branch Nick was so plainly offering? The pleading look on Jessica’s face made up my mind for me.

“Okay, but call me if you see or hear anything. We can jump out the window and be on the street in about three seconds.”

“Just get dressed first!” Jessica hollered at me as I went up the stairs. Jerk.

Too impatient to take the elevator, I bounded up the eight flights, ran down the hallway, and jammed my key card into the slot. The door obligingly beeped, I entered, then shut the door behind me and started taking off my clothes. Sinclair was already in bed, the covers turned invitingly back. His faxes were neatly piled on the desk—hey, at least he didn’t bring them to bed. This time.

“You’re flushed,” he said, surprised. “Did you feed?”

“No, I ran two blocks in about eight seconds. Nick saw a kid alone in the lobby and we were worried about her.”

“Ah. I trust you warned her.”

“Actually, we couldn’t catch her. Quick little minx. Jessica thinks she lives here and knows all the alleys and warrens, like a little rabbit. And pretty!”

“Pretty?” he asked doubtfully. (Sinclair wasn’t a fan of kids, and barely tolerated BabyJon, my ward and half-brother.)

“Oh my God, you’ve never seen a prettier kid. She’s practically got ‘bite me’ written on her forehead. So after we couldn’t find her, Nick and Jess stayed outside, just in case.” I hung my shirt on the shoe in the wall, kicked off my pumps, and stepped out of my shorts. I started to wriggle out of my bra when Sinclair held up a hand; I knew what that meant.

So I walked to the bed and let him gently remove my bra and panties, let him pull me down to him. Then I bit him, hard, on the throat and he bucked beneath me in surprise and pleasure. His cool blood trickled into my mouth like dark wine (irony: I hate wine) and my head started to swim almost immediately.

I could feel his dick pressing against my stomach, almost jerking like a live thing, and he was still spasming beneath me, so I broke off and licked his blood from my teeth.

“How about that ?”

In response he rolled me over, pounced on me, and bit me right on the jugular. Now I was the one writhing in pleasure—there was something about being taken, something that was just as fine as doing the taking—I don’t know, I can’t really describe it.

Then he plunged into me and I shrieked at the ceiling, shrieked and clawed at his back while he drank and thrust, while he filled me up and I filled him up, and I had time for a scant thought

please God don’t let the cell phone ring

what?