Her Devoted Vampire

“Wake up Call” Excerpt
Her Devoted Vampire
Copyright © 2016 Siobhan Muir
All rights reserved

“You’re Fredrick MacGregor, the scholar who likes anatomy.”

“That’s right.” A smile flitted over his lips.

“And you smell like spiced apples and vanilla.”

His black eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, one tendril falling across an eye. It looked soft and smooth, and Bridget wanted to push it behind his ear for him.

“Spiced apples and vanilla, hmm?” His smug look banished any tender feelings that might have developed.

She grimaced. “Where am I and what am I doing here?”

“You were stabbed in the side, and I brought you to my home here in Gloucester to take care of you.”

Stabbed? That would explain the bruised feeling in her side. She wrenched the emerald bedclothes away from her body and scanned the skin of her torso. The bruised pain she felt directed her eyes to her left side, but nothing marred her skin, not even discoloration. Or clothes, for that matter. What was she doing in a stranger’s house, naked? Then the rest of his words sank in.

“Wait, did you say Gloucester?”

“Yes. It was the safest place I could think to take you.”

Bridget narrowed her eyes as she raised her gaze to meet his.

Safe for whom, you chocolate-eyed kidnapper?

“Normally you take injured people to the hospital. Or at least call the paramedics.” She dropped the covers. “Not bring them to…to…”

“A comfortable and richly decorated bedroom?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Was it his bedroom?

There are worse places to be, a traitorous voice remarked.

“Would you rather I took you to a cold, impersonal, and sterile room with white walls and hollow-eyed doctors?” Before she could respond, he waved such a thought away. “There was no time, and I knew I could care for you better than any human hospital.”

Riiiiggghhhtt, that’s what all the sociopaths say to their victims.

“I have to get home.” She’d make it home come hell or high water. She sat up and slid her feet from the covers. Goosebumps zinged along her leg when it hit the open air.

“Whoa!” She jerked her legs back under the emerald sheets and stared incredulously at the man sitting next to her bed. “Where are my clothes?” And that sexy dress?

“I haven’t had time to get any from your apartment.” His eyes never dropped from hers. “I’ll send someone presently.”

She raised her eyebrows. Odd turn of phrase. “How do you know where I live?”

“Your driver’s license had all your information.”

She groaned, frowning. “Of course it did. Can’t someone lend me some clothes so I can get home? No need to make a special trip.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible at this time.” He gave her an apologetic smile.

“Why not?” She narrowed her eyes.

“You need to rest and it’s not safe.”

“Not safe? How is it not safe for me to go home?” She paused. “Please don’t tell me I’m actually the daughter of some CIA sleeper agents, and the government just has to have my help deciphering a secret message like the plot of some B-rated action flick.”

Fredrick laughed. “No, nothing so fanciful, but that’s quite inventive.” He shook his head and sobered. “No, it’s far more nebulous than that.”

“That’s just great. A perfect ending to a perfect day.” She sighed, slumping back in the bed. “Stabbed, kidnapped, and naked in a stranger’s bed. It just doesn’t get much worse.”

“Except, perhaps, being kidnapped by a vampire with a house full of werewolves.” He shrugged, a half-smile curling his kissable lips.

She snorted. “Thank God there’s no such thing as vampires or werewolves.”

He stilled as if the life within him bled away, leaving nothing but a quiet, waxen shell. His face lost the humor in it. Unease crept through her as she stared hard at him, clutching the covers so tightly her knuckles turned white. The scent of spiced apples shifted to a dirt smell, like moist earth or the desert after the rain. A shiver worked its way up her spine and her stomach cramped.

Again with the teasing. Ugh.

She cleared her throat. “Right, well, thank you for whatever you did. I kinda remember being stabbed. It hurt like hell. How bad was the damage, and how long have I been here?”

Life seeped back into him as he cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowed in consideration. “You have only been here a few hours, but we didn’t do anything other than look at your wound. You healed all by yourself.”

“Yeah, I know I’m healing. I just want to know what you did to close the wound and how many stitches I needed.”

“I told you. We didn’t do anything. Your body healed on its own.”

She lifted the bed sheets away from her body again to get a better look at her left side. The skin appeared a little pink at her waist, but nothing suggesting a stab wound. She looked back up at him, anger coiling. “How long did you say I’ve been here?”

“Only a few hours.”

“That’s impossible. No one can heal that fast. What kind of game are you playing?”