Page 2 of Fated Mates and How to Seduce Them (Fated Mates #4)

“I seriously doubt it. He’s been trying to avoid you all evening.” Ian ignored her outraged gasp as he bent and lifted André into his arms, which was harder than it looked. The bridal carry didn’t make it any easier, but André was out cold, so he could hardly be dragged along.

Another guy stood and tried to block Ian. Thin, long in the face, light blond hair—seemed familiar? Ian had seen him with André before, so he might’ve been a friend? Honestly, he wasn’t sure and wasn’t about to take chances.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable with you taking him somewhere.”

“Tough.”

Ian ignored all other protests from the rest of the group and headed for the back.

Harry caught his eye and motioned him with a jerk of his chin toward the employees-only door.

It led into a break room where they sometimes let people sleep it off.

No one wanted a drunk on the road, after all.

Ian stopped by Harry’s side long enough to say, “Grab his glass. He had a blood whiskey, neat, on the edge nearest us. That girl in the red dress spiked it.”

“Got it.”

“Thanks, man.”

André was a dead weight in his arms as Ian walked the short distance to the quiet break room.

Ian hip checked the door open, thanking all the angels it hadn’t been fully closed—his arms were shaking already, and trying to maneuver André and open a door at the same time would not have worked out well.

At all. You could hear the muffled bass of the music from here, but it was a distant roar.

Good soundproofing had something to do with that.

The automatic lights flared to life, and Ian puffed out a breath as he carefully laid André down on the couch, then stood over him for a second.

He looked defenseless sleeping. Also completely out of it.

André’s genetics were apparently godly because damn, in proper lighting and up close like this, he was even more attractive.

Not that Ian had a thing for playboys, but still, André’s lips had a beautiful bow shape to them, his face was perfectly sculpted, and he even had a beauty mole under one eye.

How was it that even drugged up to his eyeballs, he still looked like Adonis?

Life was unfair.

“I can see why she’s into you,” Ian told him with a sad shake of his head.

“You’re sinfully gorgeous. But dude, you gotta learn how to tell people to fuck off, okay?

People can be ruthless to get what they want, and you playing nice doesn’t do you any favors.

Don’t rely on your vampire powers so much.

You’re not infallible just because you vamps can make people freeze on command. ”

Boss came in at a jog, the music from the live band briefly loud before he shut the door again, taking in the man on the couch. He ran a hand over his almost nonexistent hair, then over his five o’clock shadow, wide-set eyes narrowed in distaste and concern. “Harry said he’s drugged? You sure?”

“I watched her drop something into his glass. Harry’s getting the evidence.”

“Okay, good. Call the police; I’ve made sure the bouncers have the girl in hand.”

“Sure.” Ian took out his phone and placed the call, happy to tell the dispatcher the particulars, including the name of who’d been drugged.

With Boss’s assurance he’d sit with André until the ambulance and cops came, Ian went back to the bar.

He couldn’t leave Harry out there by himself.

It wasn’t fair to his coworker. The place was slammed on Saturday nights, always was.

He went back to work with the feeling he’d done good.

He’d helped someone. When the police came, he’d give a statement, and that would be that.

Hopefully, André would learn something from tonight and not repeat the mistake of thinking vampire powers meant you were automatically safe from crazies.

He had a feeling the girl would get what was coming to her, though. Ian had no patience with rapists.

André woke with a start and immediately knew he wasn’t in his own bed. The white walls, scratchy white blanket underneath his hands, and monitors to either side of him gave him a good hint of where he was.

Why the hell was he in a hospital bed?

Granted, it had been about three weeks since he’d properly fed, but surely that wasn’t long enough to land him in the hospital? He was a generation zero vampire, for fuck’s sake. This was just embarrassing.

Turning his head, he found both his brother and mother sitting nearby.

His mother was impeccably dressed in a powder blue suit with matching pencil skirt, copper toned hair in a twist at the back of her head.

She looked like she’d been at a dinner meeting and hastily left from it, which could very well be the case.

Scratch that, it definitely had been something formal, as his brother was in a tux, only the tie and top button undone. If their mother had gotten Benedict into a tux, and his dark hair actually styled with gel, then she’d without a doubt been at some official gathering.

“André?” his mother asked in clear worry, her small hand grasping his. “How are you feeling, honey?”

“Really…out of it,” he finally decided. That was, unfortunately, the truth. His body did not feel connected to his mind just then. “Why…am I here?”

“Someone drugged you,” his big brother answered bluntly. “They had to bring you here to do some bloodwork and prove what she’d done. You took a half hour to wake up, by the way. When was the last time you fed?”

“Too long ago, apparently.” Well, at least he now understood why he was in the hospital.

Even in his underfed state, whatever he’d drank shouldn’t have been strong enough to put him in the hospital.

As a rule, human drugs didn’t work on vamps, but gathering evidence and letting him sleep it off made perfect sense.

Benedict scowled, more than ready to hit something if he had a target handy.

His brother was generally mild mannered—right up until you crossed him, then he was the opposite of his namesake.

“If you’d been properly fed, the drug wouldn’t have taken you out.

Disoriented you, yes, but not anything near this level.

Although it worked in our favor that you’re not well fed, as traces of the drug still lingered in your system, so we have evidence.

Police said it was a girl you were drinking with? ”

It took a second to click, the memory coming back in spurts.

When it did, André groaned, eyes closing for a moment.

“Shit. Now I remember. Todd invited me out, but I didn’t know he had a group of friends waiting at the bar.

When we got there, one of the girls I’d never met before targeted me.

I couldn’t avoid her, although I kept trying. ”

In fact, he’d been trying to not start a huge thing.

She’d been invited by Todd, and using Mesmerize on a pushy friend of a friend had felt like overkill.

Also, unfortunately, illegal. Not that the humans around him had been sober enough to notice.

Now he regretted not doing it, since he’d landed in the hospital.

He should have been more forceful telling her off. Lesson learned.

“I started feeling off, woozy and out of it, so I decided I’d better leave.

I…guess the drug must have taken effect then.

All I remember is strong arms catching me and a male voice telling the girl off, saying she couldn’t have me.

Then he lifted me and carried me into the back.

I couldn’t get my mouth to cooperate enough to talk, and I think I blacked out, as I don’t remember anything after that. ”

André also couldn’t remember much about the man who’d saved him, which was a rotten shame. He’d gathered the impression of a smooth baritone voice, and a brisk manner. A get-it-done sort of personality, or at least he had been at the time.

“One of the bartenders noticed her slipping something into your drink,” Mom told him, still with a worried frown pulling her brows together.

“He alerted the other staff, took you into a back room, and had his boss keep watch over you while they called the police and an ambulance. Honey, when’s the last time you ate? ”

André wanted to tell her that, as an adult, he could manage his own feeding, thank you very much. Except, well, he didn’t have a pinky toe to stand on at the moment. With a wince he admitted, “It may have been a few weeks?”

Her blue eyes narrowed at him with that patented Mom Look. “André…”

“I know, I know. I got caught up with schoolwork. Normally I feed from whoever I’m, uh, seeing, but it didn’t work out the last few times and…I have no excuse.” He gave her his best smile. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t care how old you are, André, I’ll ground you if you ever do this again,” she threatened. Her expression said she was not joking.

André believed her. “I promise I won’t. I have definitely learned my lesson. So, um, what’s his name, the one who saved me?”

He could tell she didn’t want to let this topic go but, with another sigh, did so. “I’m told his name is Ian. He mentioned you go to the same university?”

André blinked up at her. Ian. Ian Moore? The bartender with the buzz cut? “I…think I know him? We share a Gen Ed class this semester, I think? We’re not friends, though.”

“Well, anyway, he did us all a favor tonight by watching out for you. I want to thank him personally if I can.”

André certainly would. He owed the man that much, at least. “What did she even give me?”

Vampires were immune to practically everything, after all. It was hard to find a single drug that would look at a vampire. Most drugs took in that rugged vampire physique and said “no thanks.” So what had the girl even tried on him?

“Hawthorn mixed in with a roofie,” Mom said with a wince.

Oh. Shit, yeah, that would do it. Hawthorn was the one thing vampires reacted to, like kryptonite.

A common herb, unfortunately, and something people used regularly for medication, making it easy to lay hands on.

Plus, it was SUPER effective on him, like potent Benadryl to the system, and he usually passed out just touching the damn stuff.

André hated hawthorn. A lot.

“I had a blood whiskey,” he explained to them both, kicking himself. “I didn’t even taste the hawthorn or the roofie, the shitty taste of bagged blood likely masking the flavor. Not to mention, not eating the past few weeks likely dulled my senses and made it hit even harder than usual.”

“That would do it,” Mom grumbled, looking pissed all over again. “You already don’t react well to hawthorn, so I’m not surprised it took you down so easily.”

“She’s in police custody.” Benedict had his evil smile on as he reported, “A security camera caught her drugging you, so we have clear proof aside from Ian’s testimony.

She’s being charged with drugging you, attempted assault, and attempted kidnapping as, apparently, she’d been trying to take off with you. ”

André couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Are you…serious? Who does that to someone they’ve known for ten minutes?

Wait, why did—uh…I think her name was Janie?

—have the drug on her to begin with? Did she have some sort of game plan?

I can’t imagine a small thing like her carting me off, especially since I was basically unconscious. ”

“She apparently just meant to make you compliant, not knock you out completely. She kept adding more hawthorn every time you ducked her, so she overdosed you, in essence. But yea, she knew you were coming in advance. Todd told her.” Benedict’s evil smile got a malicious glint to it.

A promise of mayhem. Soon. “Todd and I will be having words later.”

“Don’t kill him.”

“Nonsense. I’d never. We’ll just have a talk .”

The talk sounded potentially dangerous. Limbs might not be attached afterward. Well, André could deal with that problem later. He turned to his mother. “I can be discharged now, right?”

“The doctors were simply waiting for you to wake up so you could feed,” she assured him. “Getting out now won’t save Todd, though. Your brother is quite upset with him.”

Damn. Well, if André messaged Todd and told him to run, he’d at least have a head start. Having to find another wingman would be annoying, but apparently Todd wasn’t reliable in that department, anyway.

Was it too much to ask for a night of fun after a long week of classes?

André had been all set to book a hotel room, get a nice feeding in—he’d planned to eat, see!

—and have some wicked fun before pouring his partner into a taxi.

And now here he was, still hungry, hungover from the fucking hawthorn and roofie, and without any sex on the horizon.

When André’s plans went off the rail, they basically jumped tracks altogether and nose-dived off a cliff. Just a little derailing, was that too much to ask for? And now, thanks to some psycho, he’d have to do a whole official thing with the police, too.

There were days André really, truly hated people.

Well, not all people. The man who’d helped him tonight was without a doubt one of the bastions of humanity. André would go find Ian and return the favor if he could. He seriously owed the man. André didn’t even want to think of what would have happened to him if Ian hadn’t been so observant.

Now, which would be easier? Finding his knight in shining armor at the bar or on campus?