Page 13 of Prince with a Chance of Darkness (Grimm Cove #7)

Chapter Thirteen

Vlad

Vlad strolled leisurely down the sidewalk through the quad area of Grimm Cove College. The Weird Sisters were close by his side. Teya had her arm looped through Vlad’s as she alternated between skipping and walking. She was currently singing a song about turning coeds into human juice boxes. The melody was beautiful, even if the lyrics were twisted. It summed her up perfectly.

Katarina was to his left, always mindful of her surroundings. Radmila was bringing up the rear, sizing up males as they walked by. She was no doubt trying to decide which she wanted for dinner. Knowing her, she’d pick more than one.

Vlad adjusted the lapels of his dark gray, late-Victorian era frock coat. The coat matched his trousers. The high-collared light gray shirt he wore was perfectly pressed. He knew the outfit was a bit much, but he had plans to attend a costume party on campus as he had every year for the past four years. Each time he wore an outfit from his past, something authentic. They worked perfectly and fit him like a glove since they had been tailor-made for him.

“Killer costume!” shouted a young male walking with a group of students. He was dressed as a scarecrow, and the woman next to him was in a blue and white checked dress. She had braids on each side of her head. There was another male student in what Vlad could only guess was supposed to be a lion costume. When he realized what they were all dressed as he grinned and tipped his top hat at them.

“See ya at the party!” shouted the scarecrow, glancing over his shoulder at Vlad as he continued walking. “Save some beer and babes for us.”

The girl at the scarecrow’s side elbowed him.

He rubbed the spot. “Ouch. You have a bony elbow.”

“And you think with what’s in your pants,” she shot back.

The lion laughed. “She’s not wrong, Van Helsing.”

Radmila shot by Vlad, going straight for the scarecrow. It was no secret that Radmila was not a fan of the Van Helsings. Scarecrow had just become the top choice on her menu for dinner.

“No,” Vlad whispered, adding power to the word, knowing Radmila would hear it as it carried over the night breeze.

She jerked to a stop and flashed fangs.

“Enough,” he said.

She hissed but remained in place.

Permitting her to kill the Van Helsing would draw out Bram , said the demon.

True. But Vlad liked to take a more subtle approach to let Bram Van Helsing know he was in town again. There was a gift basket full of wooden stakes, all filled to sharp points, and several bottles of expensive wine on its way to the Van Helsing Estate, which was on the outskirts of town.

Stuffy, always-by-the-book-Bram would make threats and huff and puff, but he wouldn’t actually kill Vlad. Not that he could. Many a hunter had tried. To date, none had succeeded.

It would be interesting if he tried, added the demon. It would give us something to do other than come here—again.

For as much grumbling as the demon did about Vlad’s numerous trips to the small town, it grew restless when too much time was put between visits.

Vlad had sworn to himself countless times over the past four years that he’d stop coming here—to this town—for no real reason. He had better things to do with his time, yet here he was again.

And he wasn’t even sure why.

It wasn’t as if Grimm Cove had been on his bucket list for the past six centuries. Hell, it hadn’t even existed for most of his years. It held nothing special that he could discern. There was nothing here that appealed to him on any level, yet the pull to return never really left him. Such had been the case for nearly four full years.

Harker and Van Helsing had started calling the small South Carolina town home decades ago, which baffled Vlad. Had they had the same strange pull to the area? If so, what did it mean and when had it started for them? Their fates had been tied together since they’d banished Dragos to the cave in Romania. Was Vlad simply drawn here because of them? Because he had sired them? Because he had a connection with them?

Was he lonely? In need of male bonding time to fill the void left behind by Lucian. Could it be that simple?

Vlad had not seen or heard from Lucian once in the past four years—not since his second massive betrayal. The first had been aligning himself with Helen Murray and Dragos. When he’d foolishly aided in drawing the twins to what had ultimately been their deaths—at least of who they had once been—and to their then rebirths as supernaturals.

The second betrayal had come when Lucian whisked the twins away from Romania in broad daylight when Vlad slept, taking them to an unknown location. One Vlad had tried to locate for years, to no avail. Vlad had even taken to hunting for Lucian instead, knowing if he could find the wolf, he’d be able to force the man to reveal the location of the young women—of Ponytail Girl.

But Lucian had become a ghost. A simple whisper in the back of Vlad’s mind every so often. He’d found a way to not only hide his location from Vlad, but his thoughts as well.

He has assistance , the demon said.

Vlad agreed. There was no way Lucian had managed to orchestrate everything on his own. At first, Vlad had assumed The Weird Sisters had played a part in it all, possibly helping the wolf steal the women away. They had a misguided notion that Ponytail Girl was bad for him. That her presence weakened Vlad.

They are not wrong , said the demon.

Vlad huffed, wishing he could find a way to turn off his inner commentary.

Laughter erupted from a group of students near a large gargoyle fountain in the center of the quad. The area was filled with statues and students. The school year was coming to a close, and the atmosphere had a heady mix of excitement and anxiety. It was only missing sex and fear. Then it would have checked off all his favorite things.

The humans scurrying past had no idea what walked among them. Of what lurked in the shadows or, like Vlad, simply strolled openly through their precious lives. He wasn’t sure they even could wrap their minds around the truth that there was far more to the world than met the eye and that humans were not, as a point of fact, at the top of the food chain.

“Master, can I play with them?” Teya asked, drawing Vlad’s attention to her as she skipped along merrily by his side.

“Teya, what did we discuss earlier? On our way here?” he asked, keeping his voice even. Yelling at her was like shouting at a puppy, most of the time—if the puppy could morph into an instrument of death and destruction.

Her bottom lip jutted out. “That I’m only allowed a sip or two, and that Katarina will tell me when and who I’m allowed to play with.”

“And…?” he pressed.

She pouted more. “And I’m not allowed to get into any mischief, or I cannot come back to Grimm Cove again.”

“Good,” he said with a nod that made her smile wide.

“Master?” she returned.

He sighed. “Yes?”

“I sense Harker is close. Can I play with him?” she asked, a fire lighting in her eyes. One that warned of the insanity that was her.

“Leave Harker be,” warned Vlad. “He is not to be touched on this trip.”

Radmila, who lingered behind, still staring off in the direction Scarecrow had gone, moved closer, gliding in a way that suggested her feet were not touching the sidewalk.

Vlad tsked. “Radmila.”

With a growl, she began to walk like a normal person, not a nearly thousand-year-old vampire.

Katarina touched Vlad’s arm lightly. “I will take them to feed so that you may enjoy yourself while here.”

His gaze flickered to Radmila. “Do not harm the Van Helsing. That is an order.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

Katarina patted his arm. “All will be well.”

He nodded his thanks and watched as the women veered off. College boys were quick to rush after them. The men would work to feed the vampires’ hunger and in return, The Weird Sisters would give them a night of pleasure they’d likely never forget.

Everyone got something from the arrangement.

Except us , said the demon. We have been left feeding from only men and if we wish for sexual release, it is by our own hand only. We are pathetic.

Vlad rolled his eyes. He was about to comment when a slight tugging in his gut caught his attention. He stopped walking and drew upon his supernatural senses, trying to locate the source of whatever had caught his attention. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

The night breeze carried with it faint hints of night jasmine and honeysuckle. Scents that made him instantly think of Ponytail Girl.

His demon took notice as well, its complaints about being in Grimm Cove all but forgotten. Follow the scent!