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  Bite Marks

  A Paranormal by Mistake Novella

  By

  Rebecca Royce

  Bite Marks

  A Paranormal by Mistake Novella

  By: Rebecca Royce

  Published by Fated Desires Publishing, LLC.

  © 2015 Rebecca Royce

  ISBN: 978-1-62322-163-8

  Cover Art by Syneca

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person or use proper retail channels to lend a copy. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the publisher at [email protected].

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.

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  Bite Marks

  George is a mystery writer in a small town who wants nothing more than one date with the local bartender named Trudy. When he finally scores a date, he is ecstatic. But the night before he his bitten by a vampire–and accidently transformed into a member of the Undead. He assumes any chance he had with Trudy died the same night his need for food did.

  But, Trudy is more than she seems. A werewolf hunter on the run she knows all about vampires and if she can keep them both alive for any length of time, she might be just what George needs to survive.

  Can love survive an accidental bite?

  Chapter One

  The music in Harrah’s Honkey Tonk played too loudly and sucked big monkey balls. George Perkins drummed his fingers on the bar and watched Trudy Rubin rush around behind the bar serving drinks to the increasingly boisterous clientele. She moved with a fluid grace he envied. The woman made bartending an art form. George had never served drinks in his life. Lord knew, he’d probably make a mess. But not Trudy. Watching her hands move seemed akin to witnessing a master craftsman—or in this case craftswoman—at work.

  “George.” Trudy caught him staring and smiled, which always made his dick harden. “You need something or is the whiskey still working for you?”

  Well, it wasn’t the Papi Van Winkle his publisher had given him in New York the week before, but, for all he cared, it could have been brewed in the backyard of some local Hedy, Texas farm. It suited him just fine, as long as he got to sit, drink, and be near Trudy.

  “It’s just fine.” He nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Well then, good.” She nodded, and the whole room seemed to light up because she had acknowledged him. Why didn’t this woman know she’d been born to be his wife? He’d known the second she’d walked into the bar. He sighed.

  Trudy furrowed her dark eyebrows. “Do you think the band is horribly bad?”

  It took him a minute to realize she had responded to his sigh. “Well, their drummer seems as if he has never held sticks before, but otherwise? Yeah, not so bad.”

  And anywhere he had to be, anything he had to listen to in order to be close to her, made the paltry discomfort of a bad cover band worth the ear pain. Trudy Rubin made the sun rise and set. She had black hair and eyes akin to the blue of the Caribbean Sea. She was thin, but not too skinny. The woman possessed stunning curves and filled out her jeans. Since she wore them daily, he never complained. Above her form-fitting denim, she always sported tank tops showing off her rather spectacular breasts.

  He wasn’t an idiot. She dressed to get tips, and he always made sure his were the best, no matter what time of day he came to her bar.

  Did his actions make him pathetic? Probably. Especially since she had refused to go on even a date with him eight times. If he asked again today, it would be an uneven nine.

  “How’s the book coming?” She bit down on her lower lip, a hint of color staining her cheeks. Sure, the skull and wolf tattoos on her arms made her look tough, but the sweetness in her eyes killed the impression. Like him, she hid her true self from the rest of the world. He just knew it.

  “Good.” He shrugged. “I never know exactly how the book will turn out until it’s over.”

  “Are you telling me you don’t know who did it ahead of time?” She moved away from him, poured a beer for the guy three seats down, then returned. “How do you make your plots so complex if you don’t plot?”

  He sat back on his stool. Deliberately copying her turn of phrase, he answered. “Are you telling me you’ve read my two books?”

  She stumbled a step backwards. “Ah…I guess…caught.”

  George took her hand in his. He refrained from squeezing it within his own. She could get away from him if she wanted to. “Tell me again why we can’t have dinner?”

  “George.” She smiled a small grin before she pulled her hand from his. “I’m not dating material. Trust me. I have more shit happening than anyone should deal with, particularly someone as awesome as you.”

  “One date. Then, if you don’t have fun with me, you never have to go out with me again.”

  Say yes. Say yes. She never had before, but maybe the ninth time would be the day he finally got the answer he wanted.

  Trudy sighed. “All right. Fine. I know you guys have a bachelor thing tonight in Austin. If you’re still standing and not too hung over, you can take me to dinner before my shift. Even though I’m telling you I’m bad news.”

  He took a sip of his drink. In Hedy, he’d never been the most popular guy. Losing himself in his books hadn’t made him prom king. If not for his mother’s illness and later the need to deal with her estate, he’d have been long gone from the area. But, just then, he felt like king of the world. The girl of his dreams had just about said yes.

  ****

  Ryan West had been George’s best friend since grade school, and the fact he was getting married in a week’s time blew George’s mind. How had they gotten to be thirty and officially at marriageable age? How had Ryan found a woman willing to put up with his crap long enough to want to get married?

  His best friend punched him on the arm. “Lighten up. It’s a good time.”

  George checked out the room once again. Strippers were just not his thing. Had never been. He wanted intimacy when he got a girl naked, and if desiring a connection made him some kind of romantic freak, then so what?

  Ryan hollered at the stage, and three of his other groomsmen hooted along with him. George checked out his watch. Midnight. He’d partied for four hours. It had to be enough time. Everyone had started getting drunk, and so would he, if he intended to stay the night in Austin. But since he had the big date with Trudy scheduled, he wanted to get home before dawn. Plenty of time to sleep, make some word count, and hopefully not come across akin to a total zombie when he took the girl who fulfilled his dreams out for dinner.

  He patted Ryan on the back. “Gotta go, buddy. So excited for you. Enjoy the night. I’ll talk to you before then, but I’ll see you for sure at the rehearsal.”

  Ryan’s brother handled the best man duties, but George would never not be there for his groomsman role. Hell, maybe he’d even have a date to bring if things went well with Trudy. Weddings were good for dates, right?

  “Guess you have to get home to look pretty for your bartender, huh?” Ryan took a swig of his beer.

  “She has a name, and, yes, I’m hoping things go well with Trudy.” He grinned. Too pumped by the fact she’d said yes, George didn’t care if they teased him.

  “You sure you don’t want one lap dance first? The one with the big, ah, eyes has been stari
ng at you all night.”

  George turned his attention to the stage. The woman in question stared right at him. Her large breasts were on display, although she’d kept her pussy covered so far. But, if the bills kept filling her panties, she’d likely shed them as well. He was all about women expressing their sexuality; he had no problem with their career whatsoever. But the possibility of what drove the ladies to get up there on the stage in the first place turned him off.

  Had she needed to pay for school? A kid at home? Sick mother? Or did she want to bare it all for strangers every night, dancing for tips? He took one last swig of his beer and brought his attention back to Ryan.

  “You know me, man, I spend too much time making up characters for them. The one with the big eyes,” which were brown, “is on the run from the mob in my imagination. I just can’t do it. Sorry.”

  Ryan patted him on the back. “And the constant workings of your never-relaxing brain, my friend, is why you got your ass kicked in school until I found you and taught you to pretend to be cool.”

  He wished he could argue, but Ryan described exactly what happened. Although the cessation of the beatings had less to do with his acting a certain way and more to do with the fact Ryan had threatened to kick the ass of anyone who touched him again.

  “Tell Kara I say hello.” He grinned when Ryan winced at his fiancée’s name. Girls like Kara didn’t fall from the sky. Ryan would be a real douche to screw the whole thing up at some strip club in Austin a week before the wedding.

  “I will. Be safe getting home.” Ryan turned back to the stage.

  “Thanks.” Be safe? What a funny way to say goodbye. Were there roving gangs of thugs tearing through Austin that George hadn’t heard about?

  He exited the club and headed toward the parking lot. If he’d been staying at the Four Seasons with the rest of the guys, he could have valeted, but the all-night lot around the corner had seemed good enough. A cool wind blew at his face, pushing his hair into his eyes, and he brushed it aside. The weather stayed mild, which suited him since he hated the extremes of Texas weather. The world had become his oyster. Finally. Career success. A date with Trudy. Perfect. Maybe she would confess to loving him, too. A guy could dream, right?

  A noise caught his attention, and he turned. If Ryan hadn’t told him to be careful, he’d never have given the strange moan another thought. In Austin, unlike Hedy, people made noise on the street at night.

  The woman from the club—the same one who had been dancing when he left—stared back at him. He stopped moving; his feet seemed frozen to the ground. What the hell was happening? Why had he stopped walking? He couldn’t remember, and his heart rate kicked up. Something felt wrong.

  The brunette sauntered toward him. “Leaving so early, beautiful?”

  Her accent wasn’t local. Hell, she didn’t even sound American. European of some sort. “I have to get home.” His words sounded stilted, but they were the best he could do.

  “Oh, I’m sure you can stick around for a while. You have the look I crave so much. Geeky and cute. You could be gorgeous if you buffed up, but you stay long and lean because you have better things to do. Speaks of intelligence.”

  Should he say "thank you?" Could he say "thank you?" His gaze seemed fixed on hers, and he couldn’t seem to move at all. What is happening?

  She brushed against him, pushing her substantial, even through her clothing, breasts to his chest. His cock never reacted, which added another layer of strange. This close, she terrified him. The woman was attractive but….

  “I’ve wanted to bite you all night.”

  “Bite me?” He managed to squeak after struggling to push the words through his locked jaw.

  “Yes, bite you. But, if I do taste you, I’m afraid I will have to kill you. Unfortunate, but it’s either kill you or change you, and the Council will never accept members who weren’t prequalified.” She ran her hands over his chest, and, if he hadn’t been frozen in place, he would have wretched. “One bite, and I drain you of your life when I suck your blood. Or one bite, I don’t drain you, and you’re one of us. Much as I think you’re cute, I’m not looking for forever with you. So death it is.”

  Her mouth pressed against his neck, and the world went black. In some distant section of his mind, he had a vague notion he was in the middle of a life-altering something, but he hadn’t moved a muscle, not even to twitch. The characters in his books always attempted to survive what life threw at them. Yet, when the chips were down, he’d been glued to where he stood.

  He blinked open his eyes sometime later to find Ryan and three of his friends—Todd, Carl, and Kaden—staring down at him. Ryan’s mouth moved, but George couldn’t make out any words. Carl bent, and the world tilted. They’d hauled him to his feet.

  They were all shouting. His skin felt as if it had turned to ashes. Why couldn’t they leave him to burn to death on his own? But maybe death would be preferable to continuing in so much pain. The others would at least be able to tell Trudy why he missed their date. Death had to be a reasonable excuse.

  Unless he didn’t die. What had the dancer said? If she didn’t turn him, if he lived…surviving would be a weird accident. Strangest thing….

  ****

  “Hey.” Someone shook him awake. Again. George groaned and tried to open his eyelids. They felt glued shut. “Don’t actually die again. I thought for sure you were dead, but then you came back. Enough. Okay?”

  Ryan’s voice called George back from whatever abyss he’d been in, and he struggled to make his mind work. Finally, he got his eyes open. “What do you mean again?” Someone had bit him…. Or did I dream it?

  His best friend ran a hand through his hair. “Think I’ll let Kaden explain later. Sip this.”

  A warm liquid hit his lips, and he moaned in ecstasy. He couldn’t remember ever having had such a delicious concoction of flavors before. His taste buds feasted on the plum, chocolate, wine, sugar, salt—dear heavens, what was he drinking? After sucking the drink down greedily, he wiped at his mouth.

  “More.” Hell, whatever he’d drunk, he wanted more of it.

  “Whoa there, partner.” Kaden sucked in his breath. “Go easy at first. You need the blood, but, just the same as overeating food, you’ll make yourself sick if you overeat it.”

  Kaden’s words seeped into his consciousness. “The what?”

  Ryan groaned loudly. “Smooth, man, smooth.”

  “Why would you give me blood? Are you out of your fucking mind?” He darted to his feet, his stomach turning as he rushed for the bathroom.

  Kaden chased after him. “Try not to throw it up. You need the blood.”

  Trying to breathe through his nose, George fought to understand. “Someone needs to tell me what the hell took place or I might explode.”

  His mouth hurt, but he couldn’t deal with the pain at the moment. Maybe because I just drank blood? Visions of blood-borne pathogens filled his mind. He’d done massive amounts of research on the subject for his last book. He shuddered.

  “There’s no easy way to say this, given your circumstance, and it never should have happened, but you’re Vampire.” Kaden held his hands out in front of him. “So am I, man, so am I. Put the fangs away, I don’t want to fight you. I’d rather deal with this as two rational, sentient beings.”

  “What fangs?” He rubbed at his mouth and gasped. Still trying to keep the blood he’d just ingested in his stomach, he rushed to the mirror. Kaden wasn’t kidding. Protruding from his mouth were long teeth, which shouldn’t be there. But new canines weren’t the only change. His already long face looked harder, his cheekbones were suddenly more angular. The cleft in his chin appeared more pronounced. His pupils were huge, and his eyes seemed to have sunk farther into his face. If he didn’t look so damn scary. he’d be thrilled.

  George had always wanted to look the bad-boy part. Chicks dug it. But not like this.

  He managed to speak. “Kaden. I think you’d better start from the beginning.”
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  George blinked rapidly. He stood in his bedroom. Good. He knew his bedroom, the big comfy bed, the too-large-for-the-room dresser. Something had to make sense eventually. He could hold on to the fact that his bedroom felt solid and real.

  He considered himself a reasonable man, the kind of creative mind capable of imagining the improbable and finding a way to make it plausible for his readers. Surely, there had to be something he could do about whatever this turned out to be.

  “You know my wife, Kitty?”

  It amused George when Kaden called Katherine, his wife, "Kitty" like she was some kind of child. But, whatever, it wasn’t his relationship. It worked for them.

  “Sure.” He answered when it became clear from the silence in the room that Kaden actually expected him to. “I’ve known Katherine for decades.”

  “She’s a Vampire. Has been for years. She got turned during a screwed-up religious ceremony. Big mistake. When we wanted to get married, I chose to be changed, too, so she and I could spend eternity together.”

  “Wait. How fucking drunk did I get?” He needed a minute. “Are you telling me you’re a Vampire, and I am, too? How is that possible? Vampires are all fairy-tale, mumbo jumbo bullshit. The Vampire legend was created to keep young girls at home, to keep them from seeking pleasure. Don’t go out there, sweetheart, some blood-sucking, walking, talking parasite might dig into your delicate flesh. Stay home. Be good.”

  Almost all the monster mysteries were based in the idea that women should never become sexual objects or the world would end in disaster. He’d taken a whole class in modern and ancient mythologies at Brown.

  “In this case, it’s very real. You’re a Vampire. I’m a Vampire. The only difference is I chose this life and you were changed by accident.”

  “Wait, just a second.” Ryan interrupted, raking his hand through his hair in agitation. “I don’t know if accident is the right word. The Vampire stripper sought him out and drained him on the street. Seems perfectly intent to me. Not a whoops.”