Once Burned: A Night Prince Novel

Vlad opened the wine and poured the deep red liquid to the brim before handing me the glass. I accepted it like it was a lifeline, taking a large, graceless gulp. On the plus side, my father no longer thought I was mixed up in a rich, role-playing cult. In the negative column, he was probably on the phone with the Pentagon right now, helping to organize a full-scale attack against any creature that didn’t have a pulse.

 

Vlad gave me a look of sardonic amusement as he poured his own glass. “High-level officials all over the world already know other species exist, but as long as we don’t interfere in their affairs, they’re happy to pretend that we’re not real.”

 

In truth, I was less worried about my father telling anyone than I was about him and Gretchen getting over their horror that the undead existed—and that I was dating one of them. Now that I was thrown together with my family, I realized how much I’d missed them. We’d all made mistakes, but maybe we could learn to work through them enough to have some sort of relationship.

 

If Gretchen ever stopped screaming, that was.

 

“What about your other girlfriends?” I muttered, plopping onto the bed. “Did their families eventually settle down?”

 

He sat next to me with a fluid, powerful grace that only someone with control over every muscle in their body could exhibit. If I’d moved like that when I was thirteen, I would’ve been a shoe-in for a gold medal.

 

“Depends,” he said, surprising me by answering what had mostly been a rhetorical question. “Five of them were vampires themselves. Out of the humans, the last one’s family did come to accept it, the two before her didn’t tell their families, the one before that didn’t have any living family, and the first . . . her family incited others in their village to burn my house down while shouting, ‘Death to the wampyre!’ ”

 

I laughed before the underlying significance made my breath catch. “You’re almost six hundred years old, but you’ve only had ten girlfriends before me?”

 

“Ten lovers, two wives, and a few dozen anonymous encounters when loneliness got the better of my standards.”

 

Wow. Vlad said he was selective about who he slept with, but some part of me must not have believed him.

 

“The woman by the river. Which one was she?” I asked, holding his darkly burnished gaze.

 

He set his wine on the floor. “My first wife. She bore me a son, and a few years later while I was fighting the Turks, I met Tenoch. He showed me what he was, turned me, and then killed himself shortly after he saw me through the initial blood craze. I returned home intending to reveal what I’d become to my wife, but my actions on the battlefield had upset her.” His mouth twisted. “She thought I’d become too brutal. It seemed an inopportune time to tell her that I was no longer even human.”

 

“I bet,” I said softly.

 

“I had to avoid her to keep my secret.” Another humorless smile. “I went off on another military excursion and we were ambushed shortly before dawn. Vampires may not die in sunlight, but new vampires are exhausted by it for the first few months. While I was fighting, the sunlight felled me and my men thought I was dead—little wonder since I no longer breathed. Word was sent to my wife, who thought the Turks were on their way to capture her. I’d told her of my treatment under the Ottoman Empire as a boy, and she decided she’d rather die than face the same brutality. She threw herself from the roof of our home into the river below, and that is where I found her after I awoke and returned to tell her I was alive.”

 

His voice was matter-of-fact, but I knew the guilt he still carried over her death. I covered his hand with mine.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”

 

He took my wineglass, setting it on the floor next to his. Then he pulled off my gloves. Once my hands were bare, he unbuttoned his shirt, staring at me while the green in his eyes grew until it swallowed up that rich copper shade.

 

“All last night and today, I’ve wanted your hands on me.” The words were roughened by lust as he yanked his shirt off, revealing that muscled chest with its pattern of scars and those mouthwatering abs. “I’m not waiting any longer.”

 

I stared at him and licked my lips. Sounded good to me.

 

 

 

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