Accidental Sire (Half-Moon Hollow #6)

“Did you find a way for us to spend unsupervised time together yet?” I asked.

He shook his head, and a series of nonsensical clicks and syllables came tumbling out of his mouth.

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, feeling the towel slip just a bit. “That’s too bad.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I caught sight of Ben’s face, which would have been the perfect gif for “mental grabby paws.” I smiled sweetly and closed my bedroom door with a snap behind me. I covered my face with my hands, laughing silently.

That was the most evil thing I’d done since becoming a vampire. It wasn’t much on the grand scale of undead evil, but it was mine, and I would claim it. I pressed an ear to the door, hoping to hear if Ben had any sort of response.

“Oh, you want to play naked. I can play naked,” he grumbled.

I laughed even harder, pressing my fist into my mouth.

I heard Ben’s shoes drop to the floor, as if he was stripping out in the hallway to prove his point. I was rolling.

And then I heard Gabriel’s voice. “I don’t want you to play naked. I would like you to put more clothes on, for the sake of my own well-being. Now. Put several more layers of clothing on now. Right now.”

“Uh, we don’t have to tell Jane about this, right?” Ben asked after a long pause.

“We will never mention this again,” Gabriel told him. “This never happened. You’re just lucky Jane went out back to walk Fitz.”

I heard footsteps and assumed Gabriel was taking the stairs back to the kitchen.

Ben’s voice sounded just outside my door. “You’re not even sorry, are you?”

“Nope!”





11




Allow your childe the freedom to develop his or her problem-solving skills. But keep the Council’s “emergency disposal and cleanup” number handy, just in case.

—The Accidental Sire: How to Raise an Unplanned Vampire

Somehow Ben being left without pants or dignity in front of Gabriel wrung quite a bit of forgiveness out of my battered little heart. I felt like we were on even playing ground after that particular dinner, which involved the least amount of eye contact I’d seen out of either man since we’d moved in.

So when I found the little yellow Post-it on my desk asking me to meet Ben on the library subfloor, my response was to smile. I supposed that after he’d sacrificed his honor on the altar of semipublic nudity, he deserved some sort of rendezvous, even if it was on the office grounds.

I’d enjoyed the anticipation and the teasing until this point, but I was also ready for a little bit of fun. We’d been working hard for the Council. We’d kept our grades up. We’d been nice little vampires. Now it was time to do something a little naughty.

Fortunately, I’d worn some of my nicer panties today, black and purple lace, and a bra that more or less matched. I told Jane I would be taking my coffee break and made for the elevator. I pressed the button for the library floor and surreptitiously checked my breath. More than acceptable, thanks to the little bottle of Fang-Brite Mouthwash I kept in my desk drawer.

The doors opened to reveal a space with dark wood paneling and row upon row of oak bookshelves. I suspected that Jane had redecorated this floor because she couldn’t stand the idea of a bare, industrial space being called a library. She took all things book-related pretty seriously.

I scanned the rows of shelves but didn’t spot Ben anywhere. What should I do if I ended up waiting for him and some other vampire found me loitering on a floor where I really didn’t have an excuse to be? I heard the elevator ding and ducked behind the nearest shelf. I watched through the empty shelf space as Ben emerged from the elevator. He looked confused, staring at a yellow Post-it as if it contained cheat codes for how to never get caught in a communal area with your pants around your ankles by your foster sire.

I stepped out into the open and smiled. “Really? A Post-it on my desk? Are you morally opposed to the traceability of instant messages or trying to be ironic?”

Ben frowned and held up his own little yellow square. “You asked me to meet you here.”

“No, I didn’t. You asked me to meet you.”

Just then, Ben’s face shifted into an expression of horror. In his dark pupils, I could see the reflection of a white-gloved hand reaching over my shoulder. Before he could say anything, Dr. Hudson appeared behind Ben, latex gloves in place as he jabbed a needle into Ben’s neck. I opened my mouth to protest but felt a sharp sting in my own neck. I reached out to Ben, clutching at his arms as a wave of fatigue dragged me to my knees. Ben dropped to the floor with me, his head sagging against my shoulder.

“Just relax,” Dr. Hudson told us. “Let the drugs do their work, and this will be much more pleasant for you both.”

“I’m gonna rip your head off,” I told him. “And jam it up your own butt.”

“It will be fascinating to watch you try,” Dr. Hudson assured me as my eyelids drooped. The world tilted and faded to black, and I felt nothing.



I was standing with my face propped against a metal grate.

Why was my face propped against a metal grate?

I blinked the gummy remnants of makeup from my eyes and shook my still-fuzzy head. I coughed, rolling my sore shoulders against freezing, wet metal. Where the hell— I was outside? Why was I outside? And why was I asleep at night?

I heard a light snort beside me. Ben was standing with me. We were side by side in an upright metal mesh box, just wide enough for us to stand but too shallow for us to sit down. It was like a double coffin, which was not a comforting thought.

We’d been propped up in a huge, open tobacco field. The sky was lightening to purple with orange streaks. The plants were in full leaf, almost ready to be harvested, bouncing gently in the predawn breeze. And the air smelled pleasantly of smoke and earth.

If I weren’t certain that the rising sun was about to make me burst into flames, it would be a nice, calming scene, like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting.

How did we get here? And who the hell put us in this box? Why did I keep waking up in weird places? Why was my head so fuzzy? Maybe it was time to reevaluate my life choices.

“Ben?” I tapped my hand against his. “Ben, wake up.”

“Ten more minutes, Mom,” he grumbled, wiping his hand over his face.

I sighed and stuck my finger in his ear, yanking on the lobe. He grumbled and tried to roll but woke when he found that he was standing, and, well, he was in a freaking metal box.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed.

“We’re in a box,” I told him.

“I can see that,” he said, glancing around. “Why are we in a box?”

We both struggled as much as we could in the confined space, banging our shoulders against the walls and rattling the door. Even with both of us throwing our weight around, the box remained upright.