AN: Can I get some feedback? Where is everyone?! *taps monitor and frowns* The updates haven't been sucking that much have they? ************************ Curiosity Killed... Chapter Three ********************* “Fine,” I grouse unhappily, “You want to know about Dracula? I’ll tell you. I was dating a werewolf in high school…” “A werewolf?” Howie asks mildly from his elegantly folded seat on the edge of the bed. I blush despite my best efforts and rub my nose again. It still smarts. “Yeah, a werewolf. It was a hereditary thing okay? Some great ancestor pissed a gypsy in Russia off and the whole line has been cursed ever since. No biggie. We just had alone time once a month. Anyway, I was getting interested in all the things that go bump in the night so to speak and started hearing rumors about Vampires. Real flesh and borrowed blood Vampires. “So I asked Nick to ask around for me.” “Excuse me…” AJ interrupted with a raised hand, “Your werewolf boyfriend was named Nick?” I glance at Carter who’s glaring at me sullenly from the desk. I smile sweetly. “Oh yes. He was tall and blonde and blue eyed too. It was so easy to pretend…” AJ howls with laughter and Brian, who has been almost silent, startles me by chuckling too as Nick blushes ten shades of red. Kevin coughs mildly, “Continue please.” I sigh dramatically. “Fine then. So Nick, good boy that he was, asked around and got me an introduction. I got to meet me a blood sucker. It was an eye opening experience. Especially when I almost got them clawed out. Werewolves are so much nicer than ya’ll are in general. Unless they have rabies, otherwise they’re puppies. “Anyway, I started making connections, traveled the world some, met some other interesting creatures, myths, legends, beings I had never guessed at let alone thought I’d see and meet. I was starting to get fairly well known in the supernatural sub world, something that is very bad for one’s health and general life expectancy by the way, and Dracula took notice. “So he did what any centuries old vampire would do. He set me up.” I pause and remember, for a moment, what it was to meet Dracula for the very first time that night on the streets of London. It had been foggy, thick, and cool, and I had been dressed in scarves and sweaters, ash blonde hair six inches longer and curling at the ends. I hadn’t been watching where I was going and had ‘bumped’ into him, the top of my head barely reaching his chin. That was one of the things he had loved about me first, that I was so short. Dracula was not a short man but women had grown throughout the centuries. He had not. I remember the darkness around us, and him, he was always so dark. I could never help myself. And yet I could. I guess that was the irony, and the allure. He had been waiting for me and, the moment I met his eyes I knew what he was, if not, on some levels, who. He could have had me in an instant if he had used his eyes but Dracula had been living too long. He didn’t hunt to feed, he hunted for the thrill, the chance of defeat. No woman had resisted his charms in centuries of stolen life. I guess there is a first for everything. He had invited me to coffee and I had agreed, knowing I was walking into the wolf’s den, but unable to help myself. There was a magnetism to Dracula that had nothing to do with his power. His very presence was intoxicating. But I have always been independent to the point of fault. It usually makes my life hell, ruins relationships, and makes me push friends away. In Dracula’s case it saved me. I shake my head to clear it of the memories. “Anyway, we met. He, he, I can’t describe him to you. Not in terms you would be able to grasp. But he was taken with me. Thought I would be good sport. He has this unwritten iron clad rule that he never takes his meals, always seduces them. He’s a womanizer of the worst degree. Every meal, every Vampire he ever made, came to him willingly, even knowing who and what he was. “I don’t work like that. So, he kept me around, played, tempted, and failed. If I had come to him a hundred years ago he might have killed me for defying him. Instead I’m a pleasant oddity. If you want to know what I am to Dracula, I am the unconquerable, the woman who said ‘no’. I’m his mortal pet. His favorite lap dog. “So he took precautions to make sure I couldn’t get into too much trouble, at least with Vampires. He shielded me, and blocked me from powers.” “He told the Council that he valued your life and that your death would be taken as a direct threat to his sovereignty.” I blink and stare at Kevin. “Well, that’s about right. Marquis?” Kevin stands in one boneless movement and towers over me. Its only a tiny bit intimidating if only because Dracula sought to seduce. Kevin is content to exude pure power and confidence. It wasn’t Vampire power, simply another extension of his own presence and forceful personality. Not that I don’t do some exuding of my own. I’m just not six feet of tall, dark and pointy teethed. Go figure. He’s before me in a breath, green eyes bearing down into my soft brown ones. His lips when they move breathe warm breath onto my own. I guess Backstreet Boys aren’t too fond of personal space. “You’ve put us into a delicate position child. You see,” Kevin continues, voice low and thickening with country accent so different from my own, “we have orders given by the Council to erase the memory of, turn, or kill all who accidentally learn of our Vampire natures. But you child, are impervious to mind tricks and protected by Dracula, the single most powerful vampire in the world. If you weren’t so obviously genuine in your misguided innocence and Marquis’s disgust I would suspect duplicity or a set up. We are not the most loved members of the Vampire Community. “As it is we are still in a unique position. So, we must create another option…” I swallow. Oh, that really, really doesn’t sound good. I’m not fond of creativity. It inevitably gets someone killed. Like me. Not that I’m too afraid of death but, I’d prefer to die swiftly and painlessly. I’m fairly certain that if Kevin Richardson or Marquis de Leonce had their way, my death would be slow, barbaric, and horrifyingly painful. Not my particular cup of tea. “AJ, take our guest into the hallway.” Oh goody. A secret pow wow about my fate. I love those. But before I can protest I’m being hauled to my feet by an obedient Alexander James McLean. He winks at me, damn blood sucker, but has me out the door before I can protest none the less. The hotel door locks behind us and we’re left staring at each other. His eyes are dark, almost black in the partial lighting of the hallway. Too bad he’s a bloodsucker because I would SO jump him. I do the next best thing though. “Can I see your 69 tattoo?” AJ’s startled into laughter again and with a graceful shrug, complies. It truly is amazing the wonders tattoo artists can do with ink.