VAMP RISING (By Moonlight Book 1) (7 page)

              Not a dog. A
wolf
.

              And not just any wolf, it was the one she’d woken up with. Why had she thought it was only a dog?

              “How the hell did you get into my bed?” She demanded, forgetting that wolves couldn’t talk.

              The black wolf padded towards her and nuzzled its snout into her crotch, and though she wanted to smack Brandon for taking advantage, she held back, thinking it was wrong to hit an animal, and instead only urged it back angrily.

              “Turn back right this very instant!” She ordered.

              Brandon lifted up, morphing back into his human form.

              As soon as he was fully transformed, she thwacked his shoulder hard with the back of her hand. “How dare you!”

              “What?” He asked, smiling innocently, yet grinning like the dog he was.

              She gasped when the realization hit her. “You saw me showering!” She gasped again. “You saw me naked!” She thwacked him again, and went to strike him a third time, but he caught her hand and gently held it between his own.

              “You called for me,” he said.

              “I most certainly did not,” she objected.

              “You did. You blew the whistle.”

              He had to be fucking with her. She hadn’t blown the whistle unless she’d done so in her sleep, which wasn’t like her. Then again very few of her behaviors had been like her since waking up in the infirmary. But still, she wasn’t buying it. She yanked her hand out of his grasp, which only caused him further amusement.

              “You think this is funny?”

              “I think it’s funny you don’t remember blowing the whistle.”

              “I didn’t!” She insisted. “And even if I had, you never said you’d show up as a dog and sleep next to me in bed!”

              “Wolf,” he corrected.

              She widened her eyes astonished that of all the things he could say correcting her was what came out of him. As if she’d offended him.

              “You wanted to feel safe, and you woke up feeling safe. I don’t see why you’re upset.”

              She glared at him.

              Brandon forced the smile from his face, shifted his tone, and said, “I wanted to be near you.”

              “So I should be flattered?” She asked sarcastically.

              “I didn’t want you taking off in the middle of the night all alone.”

              “Just admit I didn’t blow the whistle.”

              Brandon lowered his gaze and shrugged. “I’m a werewolf. I can be bad. I can also be trained. But seriously, you blew the whistle.”

              “Right,” she scoffed sardonically. “Don’t do that again.”

              “Well if I hear the whistle, what should I-”

              “Come as a human, please,” she stated dryly, as she considered how on Earth she’d been able to blow that thing while sleeping.

              He nodded to indicate he understood then glanced up at her with a hint of submission in his steel blue eyes. He
was
a dog, endearingly loyal, but apt to run amuck if not dominated, disciplined, and put in his place. Gwen couldn’t help but drink in the sight of him, as he stood anxiously awaiting her approval. His scruff of five-o’clock shadow accentuated his jawline in the sexiest way, and the composition of his broad shoulders, muscular arms, firm chest and torso that made up his posture were highly attractive. He was a hunk. And he wanted her to like him. But goddamn ,if he wasn’t going about it in the worst way possible.    

              “And don’t brag to your buddies that you saw me in the nude,” she added, as a final warning before letting the issue drop. How mad could she get if she was the one who’d invited him?

              “I wouldn’t,” he said softly, smiling back at her. 

              Gwen sighed out the last bit of tension she was holding, which happened to come out as one final agitated question, “Is no one here civilized?”

              “No one but you and me,” said a smooth, deep voice from behind her. “Christoph Barone,” he said reintroducing himself.

              Gwen remembered him instantly from the I.C.U., the pale man who was strangely attractive. Brandon had described him as an Armani ad, and now that Gwen was sizing him up she’d have to agree. He was gorgeous, though not as tall as Brandon. He had a youthful glow about him that complimented his full lips and piercing green eyes that slanted up angularly at their outer corners, giving him an exotic look.

              “Gwen,” she offered.

              “You’re going to find there isn’t a lot of reason to associate with the shifters,” he stated, glaring momentarily at Brandon before returning his alluring gaze to Gwen. “Different mentalities,” he explained.

              “We’re not so different,” countered Brandon.

              “Vampires are seductive,” he stated factually. “We court. We don’t trick.”

              Gwen wondered how much of their argument Christoph had heard. The comment seemed like a shameless dig to Brandon.

              “No,” disagreed Brandon. “You definitely trick. Mind control isn’t noble.”

              Gwen sensed a wall of tension rising between the men.

              “To insult me is to insult the lady,” Christoph pointed out, which caused Brandon to grit his teeth at the oversight.

              “Thanks for the dress,” Gwen snapped to put both of them in their places. “Speaking of insulting.”

              “It serves a purpose, which will be made clear if you’ll join me for your morning session,” he said firmly.

              “Brandon, always a pleasure,” said Christoph, as he gestured for Gwen to come along.

*              *              *

              Brandon watched as they started towards the Training Center. Christoph’s hand floated up to meet the small of Gwen’s back as they walked. He knew it! That explained everything. It explained why a vampire would want to hang around the Cascades, live in the mountains, associate with shifters, none of which suited Christoph in the least. Christoph was interested in Gwen. And it made Brandon’s blood boil.

              The sight of the vampire’s hand bracing Gwen’s back had him growling without realizing. His fangs elongated in an instant. The wolf in him felt like Gwen was his and it wanted to annihilate all threat to their relationship. But what was he going to do? Lunge at the vampire and tear his throat out? He would only be proving Christoph right if he pulled a stunt like that. So he turned his back to avoid further torture and focused on calming his heaving breaths. Then he told himself that if he wanted to win Gwen’s heart he was going to have to appeal to the vampire in her. No more werewolf shenanigans. He was going to have to charm her before Christoph did. The only problem was that he had no idea how he would accomplish such a thing.

*              *              *

              Just before they reached the entrance to the Training Center, Gwen looked over her shoulder. Brandon was standing where she’d left him, but now he was facing the other way. His hands were planted firmly on his hips, giving him the look of someone with heavy thoughts on his mind. He probably felt like he’d blown it, but really how serious could Brandon be about her? Did he
actually
like her? Sneaking into her bed seemed a reckless move for someone who was genuinely hoping to get to know her. And when confronted, he’d been much too playful about it, like the whole thing was a joke. Whether it was or wasn’t, it was starting to dawn on her that Brandon really wasn’t a
man
. He truly was an animal. And she wasn’t sure if she should allow her attraction to him to cloud her judgment.

              Christoph led her into a room that she had never been in before, the size of which couldn’t have been more than three hundred square feet. The walls, ceiling, and floor were painted black. And though there was a window at the back wall, it let in very little light.

              Christoph shut the door behind them and Gwen felt suddenly aware that she was alone with a
man
. His movements were exceptionally graceful. When he crossed the room to close the blinds, he didn’t walk, he
glided
. Yet he was entirely masculine and there was something about being in his presence that made Gwen highly conscious of the fact that she was a
woman
.

              With the blinds drawn shut behind him, Christoph stared at her for a long moment. There was something captivating about the way he was looking at her. It made her nervous and excited. Her dress felt suddenly tight, like it revealed too much of her. Every curve was bursting through the fabric, or at least that’s how it felt. She nearly found the courage to ask him what he was planning on doing with her, but every arrangement of the words in her mind came off sounding sexual, alluring, or otherwise suggestive. So she held her tongue, and surrendered to the incredible tension that was rising between them.

              “Do you feel that?” He asked, eyeing her curiously, perhaps to get a sense of her answer before she spoke it. “You can say it. Don’t be embarrassed.”

              “The tension?” She asked hesitantly, omitting the adjective
sexual
.

              “Tension? Is that what it feels like to you?”

              Gwen was beyond uncomfortable. Was he hitting on her? Who points out sexual tension? Did he want this to get painfully awkward?

              “What you’re perceiving as
tension
is the vampire’s glamour,” he clarified. “What does it feel like?”

              “Well, I mean it feels like tension, which is why I said tension,” said Gwen awkwardly.

              Christoph smiled to hold his composure. “Let me try this another way,” he offered then gazed at her silently, but with intension.

              The first few seconds were awkward as before, then Gwen found herself suddenly swept up in a wave of desire for him. He looked delicious. Her eyes traced the lines of his facial features, relishing the straight swoop of his nose, the sensual curves of his lips, and the arch of each brow. She felt like she could take him right then and there. Or really that she hoped he would take her, but something was preventing that from happening and it wasn’t Gwen, which caused her to realize all of a sudden that Christoph was
doing this to her
.

              “Would you like me to touch you, Gwen?” He asked in a tone so smooth it seemed to melt over her.

              “I think I get your point,” she said through fluttering breaths.

              In an instant the feeling was gone and its abrupt absence was jarring.

              “That’s glamour. It’s imperative you understand it. You need to be able to recognize it, and you also need to be able to exude it. Now you try.”

              “You want me to
seduce
you?”

              “It only feels like that because you’re unfamiliar with it,” he assured her.

              “This feels inappropriate,” Gwen said shyly. She didn’t want to undermine his authority, but she also wasn’t going to do something that made her uncomfortable. And at the moment she was beyond uncomfortable.

              “Is eating inappropriate?” He asked.

              “I don’t see the connection.”

              “I’m teaching you how to eat,” he told her. “Your blood thirst is going to rear its ugly head any day now, and when it does you need to understand that getting what you want depends entirely on your ability to
influence
others into giving it to you of their own volition. You can’t force a human to let you drink their blood. They’ll only fight you and essentially it's a big waste of time. But if you influence them, they’ll fall into your glamour. They’ll tilt their heads for you. They’ll offer their necks. They’ll be happy to let you drink.”

              Gwen grimaced at the thought.

              “Have you felt the blood thirst yet?” He asked, approaching her to encourage honesty.

              “The cafeteria food made me nauseous,” she offered.

              “Naturally,” he said dryly. “But that’s because werewolves don’t know how to cook.”

              Gwen smiled, realizing Christoph had a sense of humor. “Last night I was standing very close to Brandon and I think I could smell his blood. It made me hungry,” she confessed.

              Christoph frowned at that. “Why were you standing so close?”

              “No reason,” said Gwen, backpedaling.

              “Human blood is best,” Christoph said matter-of-factly to avoid prying into her personal life. “But we’ll work up to that. Animals are the easiest to influence. We’ll start simple with small game, work our way up the food chain to the dangerous species, then graduate on to humans.” He studied her for a moment then added, “It takes a great deal of skill to do what we do, Gwen. Vampires exercise a tremendous amount of mind control over their prey and they leave them with virtually no recollection that they were ever there. There’s much for you to learn. And it all starts with strengthening your glamour. So please, give it a try.”