Croix would be arriving soon. Vanna peered out the storefront window. Finally, she'd meet another vampire. She smoothed down her black blazer. She wouldn't make the same mistakes she'd made with her boss's now-deceased henchman. She wouldn't act desperate.

Russ stood beside her, the comforting warmth from his big body engulfing her smaller frame. Desire flickered to life, her nipples tightening. Vanna ignored her arousal, and she ignored him.

She had to focus on her goal. She'd make a good impression on the rocker tonight, he'd agree to turn her, and she'd fulfill her destiny. There'd be no more doubting herself, her... No. She couldn't think of that. She -- "Vampires can smell when you're nervous, love." Russ's deep voice rolled over her.

She turned her head and looked up, up, up, meeting his gaze. Russ gave her one of his stomach-flipping smiles, and her lips twitched in response.

Vampires didn't smile. Vanna sucked back her joy, flattening her lips. "I'm not nervous," she lied, her voice cold and flat as a vampire's voice should be. "And what do you know about vampires?"

Russ opened his mouth.

"Nothing," she answered for him. "Only what you've seen in movies. There's so much more than that, Russ." Vanna took a deep breath, struggling to contain her enthusiasm. "I've spent my life studying them, and I still don't know everything." She hoped she knew enough.

"Oh, sweetheart. I am a vampire." Russ laughed, the sound boisterous and loud and oh-so-s.e.xy. "I told you that --"

"And I told you that it takes more than a pair of cosmetically altered teeth to be a vampire." She huffed, hurt that he continued to lie to her. They had a relationship of sorts. He didn't need to pretend he was something he wasn't.

"You don't even dress like a vampire." Vanna waved her hand at his sky blue shirt and black dress pants. "And no vampire has red hair." Or freckles. She gazed at his broad, handsome face. He was the exact opposite of what she should find appealing.

"You don't even glower properly," she grumbled. She folded her arms and glared out the window. How could she be attracted to someone so clearly human? Becoming a vampire was her destiny.

"I might be a little rusty at glowering." His voice lilted with humor. The man, the human, was laughing at her. "But I do know you. You're nervous, sweetheart." He stroked his calloused fingers down her face, sending sweet sensations shooting across her skin, easing her anger. "You need to burn off some of that excess emotion."

She had lost control and snapped at him, something a vampire would never do. If she did that in front of Croix, he'd think she wasn't worthy of eternal life. She couldn't mess up like that again. Croix was a jaded, cynical, rock star vampire. Vanna tapped her fingers against her skirt-covered thighs. He likely received and rejected proposals like hers daily.

"You're right," Vanna agreed. "I need to burn off my excess emotion. How do you suggest I do that?" She tilted her face upward.

"I can think of a few ways." Russ cupped her face, his palms large and warm and enticing, and he dipped his head. She stared at him, fascinated by the specks in his hazel eyes. They were brown and green and gold accented by a rich crimson concentrated around the rim. Why hadn't she noticed the unusual color of his eyes before?

His flesh brushed hers, and she sighed, parted her lips and leaned into his strength. As he deepened the kiss, she rested her hands on his chest, the cotton soft under her fingertips.

A vampire would wear black silk. He was so wrong for her. She should -- Russ pushed into her mouth, sliding his tongue along hers in a stimulating caress, and she moaned, opening wider to him, her doubts demolished by his touch. He tasted of that spearmint gum he always chewed, his flavor fresh and tingly, and she sucked on his tongue, devouring him.

He pulled her closer, their bodies b.u.mping together, the hard, thick ridge in his dress pants pressing against her stomach. She swiveled her hips into him, rubbing him, enticing him. She'd had him twice, and it hadn't been enough. She needed him again.

"Vanna." Russ groaned, sliding his hands down her back. "We shouldn't do this here, love."

"Oh." Her face heated. They were kissing in the store, in front of the stoic security guards, and her smirking coworkers. Vanna stepped back from Russ, horrified that she'd once again lost all her carefully cultivated control. What if Croix had seen her? "I... I... I..." She reached for words, but she couldn't find any, her mind blank.

"Come with me." Russ pulled her toward the back rooms, his pace flatteringly rushed. He wanted her.

She wanted him. Vanna followed. G.o.d. He had wide shoulders, another sign he was wrong for her because vampires were tall and svelte, and Russ was built like a bull, all bulging muscles and ma.s.sive feet.

"If Croix comes --"

"We'll hear him." He pushed her into a storage room. "He's a rock star. His hearing must be shot all to h.e.l.l." Russ lifted her onto one of the huge jewelry safes, the gray metal cool on her bare thighs.

"What do you know about rock stars?" Vanna frowned as he tugged up her skirt.

"I know enough." He unb.u.t.toned her blazer, revealing her black lace bra. "I'll hear Croix arrive. Trust me."

She did trust him, despite his foolish claims of being a vampire. Vanna pulled back his belt, releasing the buckle, and unzipped his black dress pants, the fabric falling to the floor. He wore stark white briefs. As a vampire-in-waiting, she hadn't worn white in years, that color showing every bloodstain.

"I love how pale and beautiful you are." Russ's running commentary flowed over her. "Your skin shines like ivory. I can see your tiny blue veins, dainty and delicate, begging me to kiss them." He scattered fervent kisses over her chest, his lips smacking the tops of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She smiled as she stroked him through the cotton, feeling the bloom of his c.o.c.khead, the slight curve of his shaft. Russ was the noisiest lover she'd ever had, and she basked in the warmth of his adoration.

"Ohhh... that feels so good, pumpkin." He rocked into her hand. "I need to feel your fingers on my flesh." Russ yanked down his underwear, his c.o.c.k bouncing. "Yes." He wrapped her fingers around him. "You have the softest hands." She worked him over, her grasp firm on his thick shaft. "I won't last long, not with the way you're loving me."

He snapped the tiny ribbons holding her panties in place and slid his hands down her mons, threading his fingers through her neatly trimmed hair. "Nice," he murmured his appreciation. She jerked as his fingertips reached her wetness.

"Easy, love." Russ brushed his mouth against her sensitive neck, and she trembled, stimulated by his heat. "Let me touch you." He stroked her p.u.s.s.y up and down, up and down, and her tremors increased, shaking her entire body.

The way he touched her set her soul on fire. She spread her legs wider, allowing him better access to her. He teased her entrance, rubbing his thumb over her c.l.i.t, and dipping his fingers into her cream, while she pumped his c.o.c.k, drawing out his seed, a dab of prec.u.m forming on his tip.

"You're wet for me, hot for me." His voice deepened to a rumble. "Tell me that's true, Vanna. Tell me you ache for me like I ache for you." He pumped into her deeper and deeper.

She shouldn't tell him anything. He was a fling, that was all he could be, and she shouldn't lead him on or give him hope. But she couldn't lie, not now, not with his fingers inside her. "I do ache for you, Russ." She arched into him, and his c.o.c.k brushed against her inner thighs, leaving a trail of wetness. "Take me. Fill me."

"Yes." Russ placed his ma.s.sive hands on her hips and pulled her toward him. "Feel me inside you." He pushed into her tight p.u.s.s.y, his broad c.o.c.khead stretching her to the point of burning. "Doesn't this feel right? This is how it is meant to be, you and me, joined, together."

The endless slide continued, and she gritted her teeth against the pain, the fullness. He was so big, so thick and long. "You can do it, love," he coaxed, nibbling on her right earlobe.

She could. She clutched his shoulders. She'd taken him twice before. She could take him again.

"That's it." He kissed her neck as her p.u.s.s.y lips pressed against his curly red pubic hair. "Good girl." Sharp teeth traced her jugular vein, and she shivered with excitement, dropping her head back.

Russ sucked and licked as he rocked into her. The heat of his mouth and the press of his lips reminded her of someone and some time -- a distant past or a time not yet experienced. Vanna closed her eyes and clasped his head to her flesh, trying to entice the lurking memories closer.

"Touch me, Vanna." Russ's voice scattered her thoughts. "I need your soft hands on me."

She ran her palms down his cotton shirt. His back muscles stretched and contracted under her fingertips. His power and strength were tactile things, moving and alive and barely constrained by his clothes. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, locking her ankles behind him, securing him to her.

"Grab my a.s.s," he ordered, driving his c.o.c.k into her p.u.s.s.y faster and harder, a sheen of exertion forming on his freckled forehead. "Squeeze me."

Vanna did as she was told, grasping his clenched a.s.s cheeks, marveling at his contrasts. He was soft skin and hard muscle, good-natured yet demanding, gentle yet strong. His complexity fascinated her, distracting her from her true purpose, her destiny.

He varied his angle, his shaft rubbing against her c.l.i.t, and she moaned, her body coiling tighter and tighter around him. "Russ," she pleaded -- for what, she didn't know.

"That's it, love." He covered her with words and kisses as their bodies smacked together, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s flattening against his chest, her nipples stinging with the hard connection, the pain accentuating her arousal. "Come for me, Vanna, my sweet, sweet Vanna. Scream for me. Tell the world you're mine."

"No. No. No." She shook her head, denying her release. She couldn't do that. He wasn't a vampire. She couldn't -- He nipped her neck, and she screamed, heat sweeping over her, bursting the wall around her emotions. She arched, and he pushed forward, roaring his release, filling her with his hot c.u.m. He pumped three more times before stilling.

Vanna sighed, her body limp and lethargic, and she leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder, her nails remaining embedded deep in the flesh of his a.s.s. She breathed deeply, smelling s.e.x and blood and him.

"My love." Russ petted the back of her head, his touch sure and comforting. "My sweet little love. I have waited for you for so long, for an eternity, it feels like, and it was worth it; this was worth it." He filled the small room with words, words of love, words of a future together.

"Russ." She should tell him it was over. It wasn't fair to him.

"Hush, love." He placed a finger over her lips. "I know it's too soon. You need more time to accept this, to accept us. I can wait. This is enough for me." He pressed his lips against her forehead. "More than enough. We have the time. We have forever."

They didn't have forever. He would stay human while she became a vampire. She had to tell him. "I --"

"s.h.i.t." Russ pulled away from her, cool air filling the s.p.a.ce between them. He frowned fiercely, deep lines appearing between his eyebrows.

"Oh." She covered her mouth with her hand, dismayed at her rashness. "Condoms. We forgot." She had been so swept up in his touch, she'd forgotten. What happened to her coolness? Her vampire-like detachment?

"Don't worry. I can't get pregnant," she a.s.sured him, squelching the pain. Her deformed womb was yet another sign she was meant to become a vampire. As were the blood-filled dreams she'd had since she was a child. All of it had a purpose. She was destined for another life, an eternal life. She had to be. "And --"

"That's not it, honey." Russ b.u.t.toned up her blazer, his big fingers fumbling with the b.u.t.tons. "That rock star of yours is here."

"s.h.i.t." Russ's favorite profanity spilled from her lips. "I'm not ready." She batted his hands away and took over the b.u.t.toning. "I must look a mess." She touched her mouth. "I don't have any lipstick on."

"You look beautiful, love." Russ smoothed down her hair.

"You don't understand." How could he? He wasn't a vampire. Vanna hopped off the metal safe and tugged down her skirt, her movements jerky with her distress. "Vampires wear red lipstick. He'll look at me and he'll know; he'll know I'm not worthy of being turned."

She stared up at the ceiling, blinking back tears. All her negotiating with her boss had been for nothing. She'd messed up yet another opportunity, delaying her true future.

"Oh, love." Russ shook his head, an aggravatingly cheerful grin on his handsome face. "I don't know why you're in such a hurry to be turned but..." He drew his bottom lip into his mouth. "Here." He bent his head, drops of blood forming on his flesh.

"What are you doing?" She stared at the blood, fascinated and horrified.

Russ chuckled. "This is how vampires apply lipstick." His blood-covered lips pressed against hers. She darted her tongue across his mouth, tasting him, and she groaned, the coppery flavor of his blood enticingly familiar. Where had she savored it before? Oh, G.o.d. Vanna stared at Russ. In her dreams. He tasted like her faceless vampire.

But Russ was human, not a vampire, and that meant...

All blood must taste the same. Yes. That was it. Vanna had only tasted her own blood and that was years ago, when as a child, she'd fallen off her bike. She hadn't gotten up the nerve to bite anyone else. If she had, she'd know -- "Perfect." Russ licked around her lips, removing the excess blood. "No vampire would dare question your worth now." His eyes glowed with a particularly possessive light.

She frowned. "I --"

"He's here, love." Russ yanked his pants and underwear up and pushed her toward the door. "Rock stars don't like to be kept waiting." He zipped up and tucked his shirt back in as he walked with her.

Russ sounded like he knew what he was talking about. He could help her. "Anything else I should know about rock stars?" Vanna's nerves had returned, and she needed his confidence.

s.h.i.t. Croix stood in the doorway, surrounded by people all dressed like him, in black leather with metallic studs and piercings. She wore cotton. She wasn't dressed right.

"You're dressed exactly right, love." Russ squeezed her hand, reading her mind as he always did. She was transparent, her face an open book, or so he'd told her. "You work here, remember?"

She did. She was an employee. Vanna breathed deeply, trying to calm down. He'd expect her to wear her work clothes.

"He would. Now go sell him some jewelry." Russ patted her on the a.s.s and laughed.

He laughed! Russ never took anything seriously. Vanna walked toward the black-haired rock star, her legs shaking. She could do this. This was her destiny.

"Are you coming to help me, pet?" Croix smiled at her. The smile didn't reach his vacant, undead eyes, and Vanna slowed, recoiling from his presence. Vampire. A real vampire.

She looked over her shoulder, meeting Russ's gaze, and he nodded encouragingly, laughter lines edging his remarkable hazel eyes. Russ believed in her. A calmness fell over Vanna. She wouldn't let him down.

Vanna straightened her shoulders, plastered her blankest, most emotionless expression over her face, and turned her gaze back to Croix. "Welcome to Oro's, Mr. Croix."

Chapter Two.

Russ proudly watched his beloved sail across the room, heading straight toward the leering rocker. Despite the fear radiating from her, her spine was straight, and her head was held high. She was determined to woo her so-called vampire.

Not that Croix was one. Russ snorted. The scrawny rocker might have the arrogance of a vampire, but he certainly wasn't a paranormal.

His entourage, however, consisted of fledgling vampires and l.u.s.t demons. Russ's gaze settled on the vampire's ringleader: a bald, tattooed male. That one was bad news.

A tall, thin man walked through the door, easily pushing the group deeper inside the store, and Russ grinned. "Marciano, my friend!" He approached the ancient with his big hand outstretched.

"Russell!" The vampire's hand clasped his and brutally squeezed, Russ's bones bending under the a.s.sault. "It has been too long."

"Too long," Russ agreed, returning the pressure until Marciano pulled his hand away. "Since Normandy." His smile wavered at the memories of that vicious battle. "You shot me in the a.s.s, if I recall correctly."

"Si." Marciano's lips twitched. "You foolishly placed it between me and the enemy. I could not resist. It was such a large target."

Russ chuckled. "What are you doing here?" He glanced back at the rock star. The man flirted shamelessly with Vanna, his beloved's expression flickering between adorably uncomfortable and hysterically grim. "You have no ear for music."

"That is a good thing for this a.s.signment," Marciano drawled. "I'm on babysitting duty. The annoying human is drawing the attention of the wrong crowd." He nodded at the ringleader of the vampires. "And he is high profile. The council wants no drama." He shrugged, unconcerned. Protecting one human was nothing for the mercenary.

Protecting Vanna was everything to Russ. His mood turned grim. "And the fledgling?"

"Dekel and his cronies are expendable." Marciano surveyed the store, his gaze settling on Vanna. "You always did have a thing for humans." Croix put his hand on Vanna's waist, and she stiffened. "Why does your pet tolerate another male touching her?"

Russ wished to toss the rock star across the room for daring to touch his woman. Instead, he squashed his jealousy, remaining where he was... too far from her side. She loved him, but she wouldn't admit it, not yet. He'd allow her the s.p.a.ce she needed for that love to grow.

"Amico mio?" Marciano prompted.

"She wishes to be turned, and she believes your boy is truly a vampire." Russ gritted his teeth, knowing Marciano would think the worst of her.

"You are keeping a vampire groupie?" His dour friend's bark of laughter made heads turn their way. "And what are you? Pretending to be human again?" Russ remained silent. "Russell, amico mio, you amuse me. Why do you torture yourself so?"

"Because destiny has a sick sense of humor, Marciano." Russ curled his hands into fists as the rocker's fingers moved upward, dangerously close to Vanna's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Someday, if you're fortunate, you'll find that out." Vanna stepped to the right, away from Croix.

"Merda. She is your beloved." Marciano's smile faded. "Si." He sighed. "If I'm fortunate, I will find out."

Croix pursued Vanna. Dekel moved to her right, blocking her retreat. They dared to trap her, his beloved. A cold, killing rage rushed over Russ, and his fangs dropped. "If you'll excuse me, Marciano."

"But of course." His friend stepped aside, waving his hand with a flourish. "Don't kill the human, Russell. The council will be very upset."