Vampire Mate: BBW Paranormal Romance Page 2

  Charlene took a deep breath. “You make demons.”

  He broke into a winsome smile and unfolded his arms. “Yes! That I do. And I do that very well. I have made quite a number of demons now, and the quality of my demons is exceptional. I'll even throw in a few additional demon powers, all free of charge. This is just a one time offer. So, what do you say? This offer expires upon your death, which is like—” He glanced at his diamond watch and gasped. “Now. It's your choice, Charlene. Death or demon.” Kron rocked back on his heels and waited.

  Charlene stared up at those flaming red eyes, and saw the werewolf attack being replayed starkly and all too clearly through the flames. She saw every bloody, gruesome detail of her death. She saw the rogue werewolf lunge at her, its lethal claws and jaws aimed for her heart and throat. She saw the spray of her own arterial blood painting the wall behind her bright crimson as she fell. She heard her sister's anguished screams, and saw the wolf spin round to attack Charlotte. Charlotte's bloodstained fists and bleeding limbs were flailing and weakening through the blur of black fur and glinting teeth. A mist of blood rained down on the scene and the wolf and her sister sank into the sea of red. The red flickered and glowed into leaping flames, and Charlene stumbled back with a gasp. The pain in her broken chest was sharp and piercing. She had fallen under the werewolf's jaws and had failed to protect Charlotte. She had left her younger sister all alone, frightened and hurt. The rogue was attacking Charlotte! She had to go back, go back and protect Charlotte!

  And she couldn't do that if she was dead.

  Kron took a step closer to her and she jerked her head up. Her face was reflected in his gleaming eyes, and as his fingers lightly skimmed over her cheek, she saw her skin grow back and her wounds knit seamlessly together until her face was whole again. She was no longer a monstrosity, a mutilated dead thing barely held together by stringy, shredded skin. Her blond hair grew back, a shiny bob over her head. The color returned to her round cheeks and her green eyes sparked to life.

  At the same time that Charlene raised a hand to her face, Kron removed his fingers from her face. In a rush, the mended Charlene melted away, leaving her back where she was. In tatters and in pieces. Broken and dead.

  She caught a glimpse of her half-eaten face, her bloodied scalp and her bulging, horrified eyes just as Kron stepped back and the flames flared back up in his eyes to obscure her grotesque reflection from her.

  “Make your choice, Charlene. What do you want to be?” the demon lord asked.

  Dead, or demon.

  Charlene thought of Charlotte, and a faint memory of the Enforcers from the Paranormal Affairs Council (PAC) patrolling the streets and protecting the civilians of New Moon City rose in her mind. She had the sudden conviction that the Enforcer who had rushed into the alley and whose voice she had heard last calling for help through the radio static was a demon Enforcer. If demons could be good, then—

  Charlene squared her shoulders and flashed her biggest, brightest smile, even though her facial muscles twitched and protested, and more of her skin tore and flaked off. “Let's do this, Mr Kron. Make me over.” She spread out her shaking arms. “Make me a demon!”

  Kron's eyes glittered as the fires died down in his eyes, leaving just glowing coals. With a flourish, he snatched a large makeup palette out of the shadows and twirled it atop one finger. Charlene saw all shades of dried blood on the palette, and kept the smile plastered on her face through sheer, stubborn willpower.

  “As you wish, Charlene, I will Make you a demon. But let me warn you.” He leaned in close to her ear, making her shudder. “It ain't pretty, and it sure ain't painless.”

  With that, he gave her a wink and a shove. Charlene let out a scream as the shadows receded and she found herself swaying and wobbling on the very edge of a precipice, her arms windmilling madly. Kron stood a few feet away, watching her as he smeared the gory colors from the makeup palette onto his fingertips and licked them off slowly.

  With his bloodstained lips, he blew her a kiss and she lost her footing altogether. Charlene spiraled down into the waiting flames, her scream echoing above her. She plunged headlong into the roaring flames, which transformed into thrashing black waves. Drowning in a sea of blood and fire was not what she'd bargained for.

  She should have known better. What was she thinking, bargaining with a demon?

  Perhaps she should have chosen death.

  Charlene spluttered, trying to struggle to the surface. No! She would not choose death. That was the easy way out, and since when did Charlene Cole do easy? Never. Not since their mother split and their dad drank himself to death. She had soldiered on, taking on all kinds of jobs, enduring all kinds of humiliation and hardship, just to put food on the table and keep a non-leaking roof over their heads. She had made sure that her sister grew up happy and loved, that Charlotte's childhood and teenage years were warm and comfortable.

  Her life hadn't been easy.

  So why should her death be easy?

  Bring it on!

  She was sure that Kron was going to kill her. He had just been playing with her, taunting her, raising her hopes then crushing them, the sadistic bastard. He was going to watch her drown in this sea of black demon blood that was being boiled by the fires of hell.

  What a way to die, Charlene! Way to go.

  A hysterical, demented laughed gurgled from Charlene as she coughed up a mouthful of blood. Above the flaming sea of blood, Charlene saw Kron silhouetted at the top of the cliff against the swirling sulfur mists.

  His form kept shifting and changing with the mist. She saw a horned figure standing upright, with flaring horns and muscular limbs. Then she saw a crouching beast, with many tails and dripping fangs. His shape morphed again into a humanoid figure, but there were long talons gripping the edge of the cliff where his feet should be. Finally, she glimpsed that immaculately dressed gentleman again, sitting cross-legged and swinging a cane jauntily at the tip of the rocky ledge.

  Kron was just entertaining himself. And it seemed that she was his entertainment.

  Charlene spat out another mouthful of blood and gave the demon lord the finger before a dark, burning wave crashed over her head and dragged her down. Her stiff, defiant finger remained above the surface for the longest time, before slowly sinking and disappearing into the burning depths.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Glenn Constantine glanced at his watch. Eight o'clock.

  He had to attend another meeting in about half an hour. But first, he had to take care of business, his business. Having a Master vampire as their founding board member meant that his staff at his real estate investment firm, GC Inc., usually scheduled all important board meetings in the evenings, when the sun was down so he could attend.

  But Glenn was also a Council member of the PAC, and the Paranormal Affairs Council always had their meetings at night to accommodate all their members.

  Glenn pressed his fingertips together as he listened to the debate that was going on forever between some of the board members.

  He would have to wrap up this board meeting soon. Now, if possible.

  His Chief Executive Officer, Harvey Chen, a dignified, bespectacled silver haired weredragon was answering some questions from the other board members.

  Glenn leaned forward and cut into the debate. “Harvey is right. I don't think we should sell the land.”

  One of the board members turned his frown on Glenn. “But Mr Kron's offer is...”

  “Too good to be true? Then it probably is,” Glenn said levelly.

  “He's offering a really good price, for that land. A crazy price, in fact,” another board member interjected heatedly. “We'll be crazy not to accept!”

  “But why would Mr Sideous Kron be suddenly interested in a remote piece of land held by GC Inc.? From what I know, Mr Kron moved to New Moon City about sixty years ago, and he has largely kept to himself. A very wealthy demon lord, but very reclusive. No one knows much about him, other than he lives in a castle in Infe
rnal Springs, that outrageously affluent neighborhood at the periphery of New Moon City. So why this offer out of the blue? And yes, what he is offering in no chump change,” Glenn said, looking round the long table. “The amount is insane, I'd say.”

  “Who cares if the old demon is insane? He's got money and he's willing to spend it. If he's throwing it our way, then I say we grab it. That demon is loaded, comes from old money, I heard.” This from a bejeweled board member whose shareholding in the company was pretty substantial.

  Glenn made no response. He had heard the same about that eccentric, reclusive demon lord. On the surface, Sideous Kron appeared to be a genteel, old-fashioned gentleman, seldom reverting to his demon form, always dressed impeccably in tailored suits and a shiny top hat.

  Why would the demon lord be interested in an abandoned parcel of land that lay far out of the city? Lots of blood had been shed on that land, and no one really wanted to have anything to do with the land that was stained red with the blood of millions of slaughtered shifters.

  The company had received several offers for the land from a few developers before, but always the offered price had been ridiculously low. And now, the offer by Sideous Kron was ludicrously high.

  Coupled with the fact that Sideous Kron was a blood demon—it just didn't sit well with Glenn.

  “I say we mull over the offer for a bit longer before giving our answer,” Glenn said at last, silencing the furious discussion that had broken out.

  “The offer won't last forever,” someone pointed out.

  Glenn shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. It depends.”

  It depends on how badly the old demon wants that land, and what he wants it for.

  There were a few disgruntled murmurs, but as the Chairman of GC Inc., Glenn had the final say.

  The board meeting was called to a close, and as everyone filed out of the conference room, Glenn pulled Harvey aside and told him, “You know where Mr Kron lives.”

  “Yes,” Harvey said quietly, looking at him over the rim of his glasses. “I will see what I can find out.”

  “Be careful.”

  Harvey smiled. “Ah, don't worry. I can hide well in the clouds. I am not bulky and noisy, like the other dragons.”

  Glenn had to smile at that. Harvey was an Eastern dragon, so when he shifted, his shape was long and fluid, and his serpentine body slithered silently through the clouds without the loud flapping of wings. Harvey was also discreet and very wise, and he trusted his CEO's assessment and judgment.

  “Just stay hidden, and watch Mr Kron's movements. But I suspect the old demon will be very careful. You know he is a blood demon, so...”

  “He is not getting any dragon blood, Mr Constantine.”

  Glenn gave Harvey a grim smile. There were many demons in New Moon City, but very few blood demons. Blood demons were worse, far worse than vampires in Glenn's view. Vampire bites didn't hurt. Their fangs were sleek and sharp, and pieced the skin cleanly. Vampire fangs were also coated with a kind of anesthetic and aphrodisiac, making the bite painless and very pleasurable. But blood demons had serrated fangs. And their bites were excruciating.

  With the PAC laws and rules in place, vampires and blood demons weren't allowed to bite to feed. To feed, they had to go to the licensed blood bars all around the city. Innovative bar owners had come up with blood of all flavors. There was alcoholic blood, artificially sweetened blood, blood with added vitamins and minerals, you named it, they served it. The only time biting was allowed was during mating. It was a strictly no biting policy in New Moon City. Biting and sucking of blood was allowed only between consensual adults in the private, intimate act of mating.

  Outside of mating, if a vampire or blood demon bit and fed off another, the vampire or demon would be hunted down as a rogue by the PAC Enforcers.

  Vampire bites were pleasurable, orgasmic even, and the bed partners of vampires usually wore their bite marks with pride. But the sexual partners of blood demons often had to rush themselves to the hospital as soon as they could extricate themselves from the demons' fangs. Blood demons seemed to revel in causing maximum pain to their partners. Their mating was filled with screams, and not in a good way.

  Glenn shuddered. He would never take a blood demoness to his bed.

  Harvey walked out the door and inclined his head in a bow. “Good night, Mr Constantine.” Glenn sighed. He had given up trying to get Harvey to just call him Glenn. Harvey with his silver hair and kindly face looked like he could be his grandfather, even though he was a century younger than Glenn. Glenn had been a vampire for a long, long time. So long that he had almost forgotten how it felt to be human, to trust, to feel, to fear.

  Glenn trusted so few, felt so little, and feared nothing.

  His secretary, Mrs Philomi Singh, locked the conference room door after him and walked with him to the lift lobby. Philomi had been in his employ for close to twenty-five years now. She had been a young woman in her early twenties when she first started work, and now she was almost fifty. He had attended her wedding, seen her have three lovely children, and recently stood by her side as her husband's coffin was lowered into the ground. Her husband had passed away after a lengthy battle with cancer, and even though Philomi's three children had come to Glenn to beg him to save their father, to turn their dad into a vampire, Philomi had said no. Philomi had been adamant that her husband be released from all suffering. It made Glenn wonder if Philomi thought that he was suffering all this time.

  “I'm sorry to make you stay so late, Philomi,” Glenn said.

  “It's my job. I have to take the minutes. Anyway, it's a Friday night and the kids are out, on dates, at parties. I'll rather be working than eating a cold supper in my kitchen.” She left out the last word. Alone.

  Glenn turned to face her. “Philomi...”

  She held up a hand. After working with him for twenty-five years, he swore the woman could read his mind. “No, I don't regret my decision. It was Chandran's wish as well. He wouldn't want to be...”

  Like you.

  She fell silent and Glenn smiled wryly. He understood completely. And it seemed Philomi and Chandran did as well.

  “If there is anything I can do...” Glenn began.

  Philomi spun round and cut him off. “You've done so much already, Mr Constantine. You paid all Chandran's medical bills. We wouldn't have been able to afford all those medical treatments. Top doctors, first class care. And even when I took weeks and months off to care for him at the end, you continued paying me my salary. And what you're paying me? You can hire three secretaries with my salary. And you know that.”

  Glenn put on a solemn look. “I am a business man, Philomi, so I always look at the bottom line. And you—are worth every cent. Now, don't you dare go back to the office. The minutes can be typed up on Monday. Get yourself to a nice restaurant, open a bottle of wine and enjoy a lovely, relaxing dinner. Or go to a bar and let your hair down.”

  “Ah, a bar. You mean a blood bar. I've heard that you frequent the blood bars around town, Mr Constantine,” Philomi said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Out of necessity,” was Glenn's impassive reply.

  The blood bars were licensed by the PAC, and as a Council member, it was part of Glenn's duty to check on the bars and make sure they adhered to the licensing rules and regulations. And to make sure that there was no biting in the bars.

  He hadn't taken a vein in so long. Which meant he hadn't taken a female to his bed in as long. The thought made him ache. The sense of emptiness and yearning was acute, but from the state of things, it wasn't going away any time soon.

  There was another reason why vampires had to bite and taste the blood of their partners. Sexual attraction was one thing. A true mate bond was another thing altogether. It was the real thing.

  Glenn had had many women in his bed, but none of them had stayed more than one night with him. He had pleasured them, taken his own empty release, and tumbled out of bed, still aching, still hungry. Just a single drop of thei
r blood on his tongue told him what he already knew.

  Not his mate.

  He never took more than a drop. Just a nick on their necks—and he withdrew. The hunger was there, still, always, but the hunger was for his mate.

  A year ago, he thought he'd found her, a curvy blond beauty with the most dazzling green eyes, but before he could talk to her, much less talk her into his bed, he'd lost her.

  She was...

  Philomi's voice broke through his thoughts and Glenn started. There was a flicker of concern in her eyes as she stared up at him.

  Glenn smiled and said quickly, “I'll see you on Monday, Philomi. You have a good weekend.”

  Philomi gave him a gentle, knowing smile and a sigh as she hopped into a cab. Glenn watched her cab disappear round the corner, then turned and walked a little distance in the direction of the PAC Headquarters. He could mist there, but he just wanted to walk a bit, stretch his long legs and clear his business head.

  Glenn walked briskly down the street, passing a few couples strolling hand in hand. Friday night, and everyone was decompressing, dating, dancing and drinking. Whereas he had just finished up a long-drawn board meeting and was now heading to a Council meeting. No rest for the wicked, he supposed.

  A muffled scream from a side alley made him whip round, his senses on full alert.

  In a heartbeat, his form shimmered into mist and he materialized at the mouth of the alleyway. As he stepped into the alley, tendrils of mist still clinging to his suit, he saw a burly skinhead pin a terrified little witch to the wall. The witch's magick sparked wildly from the tips of her fingers as she tried to fight off her assailant. She shrieked a spell, and a shower of sparks landed harmlessly over the man's head. He laughed, and as he pushed her skirt roughly up to her waist, his face elongated and fur sprouted on the back of his neck. He was losing control of himself and his beast.

  The man jerked suddenly, but not in Glenn's direction. He raised his head and sniffed the air hard, his body twitching uncontrollably in his half shifted form. His face was now more wolf than man, and his body bulged and his shirt split into half, revealing his furry back. Glenn saw the werewolf lurch suddenly to the side, as the air rippled and filled with a new scent.