Page 16 of Prince with a Chance of Darkness (Grimm Cove #7)

Chapter Sixteen

Vlad

Ponytail Girl stared down at Vlad, her blue eyes clear of darkness and bloodlust. Now she was completely in control, completely herself.

And she had no idea who he was.

That simply would not do. No. Not when she’d consumed his thoughts all these years. Not when he’d searched the world over for her and had finally found her.

Show her , the demon said and Vlad knew instantly what it meant.

His hands moved slowly to the buttons of his shirt, keeping his movements careful, deliberate. Her gaze tracked each motion, but the blade never wavered from his heart.

Good.

It meant she was still poised to kill him should he prove to be a threat to her. As it should be. He never wanted to think of her as being vulnerable again. No. She was fierce.

A warrior.

And she was with him again.

"Seriously? You’re not only sporting a monster of an erection there, buddy, but you’re going to get naked now too?" She arched a brow, adjusting her position over him. "Not that I'm complaining about the view, but usually guys buy me dinner first. And I’ve never had a vampire try to worm out of being slayed by way of seduction. Can’t say I’m hating it or anything. Carry on. I want to see the goods."

The night air grew thick between them as he worked each button free. He could hear her heartbeat, smell the mixture of night jasmine and honeysuckle that had haunted his dreams. The faint hints of arousal began to mix into it all. She wasn’t unaffected by him.

Good.

His demon purred at her proximity, at the feel of her weight pressed against him.

"You know," she said, her voice low and husky in a way that made his fingers stumble on the next button, "as far as last requests go, this is kind of unique. Most vamps just beg for their lives."

“I do not plan to be the one doing the begging,” he said as he continued unbuttoning, watching as her eyes followed each new inch of exposed skin. The blade remained steady, but he sensed her curiosity warring with her instinct to strike. The predator in her recognized the predator in him, yet something else passed between them. Something electric and dangerous.

“Damn. I’ll hand it to you, you’ve got a killer body,” she said, biting her lower lip. “I kind of want to lick it all over.”

Finally! shouted his demon, pushing at him to tear off his clothing and let her.

"Though I have to admit," she shifted slightly on him, leaving her groin pressed to his, sending sparks of awareness through him, "this is working more than it should on me. Those abs alone deserve a moment of silence."

His shirt fell open more. Moonlight spilled across his chest, highlighting the network of scars earned in his mortal life. But there was one that stood out—the mark that perfectly matched hers—if it still remained.

Her weapon lowered slightly, confusion coating her expression. Her free hand hovered midair, trembling slightly, fingers splayed as if unsure whether to touch or flee. Her breathing changed—shallow, uneven. She looked at the scar like it might sear her skin if she got too close. The tips of her fingers skimmed it and fire shot right to his groin.

Encourage her to touch us all over , said the demon. Suggest she start lower.

Vlad ignored the demon, his gaze locked on Ponytail Girl’s. He had only seen her eyes this blue before by way of Harker’s shared visions. When she had been with Vlad for the two weeks following the attack, her eyes had been black or some variation of it. They were beautiful—just like her.

Vlad’s hand lifted of its own accord, and he brushed a stray strand of long, dark hair from her cheek.

She didn’t flinch or jerk away. It was a good sign.

Her fingers skimmed over his scar, causing his power to flare. It crackled between them, moving from him to her and back again. The dagger in her other hand wavered. Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into eternity as her fingers traced the raised edges of his scar. Such a gentle touch from hands he knew could deal death.

His entire body yearned toward that contact, while his demon held perfectly still, afraid that even the slightest movement might break the magik of the moment.

The glint of moonlight off her blade caught his attention and it was then he noticed the symbols carved into the dagger’s handle. His mouth curved upward faintly as he realized just how dangerous she was with it.

The symbols gave the dagger additional power in the fight against supernaturals. One cut from it could kill a lessor demon. It would leave demons of higher orders rethinking a fair number of their choices in life. It would even cause him harm should she decide to use it against him.

Let her if it means she is touching us , said the demon, who had gone without sex for far too long and was ready to sacrifice itself for a moment of bliss.

Her eyes widened. The dagger slipped from her hand as her other hand flew to her mouth, covering it. The soft thud of it hitting grass seemed to shatter whatever spell had fallen over them. The warmth of her body disappeared as she scrambled off him, leaving him hard as a rock. She stared down at him with shock on her face and mumbled something from behind her hand that sounded a lot like “dental erections.”

Vlad lay on the ground in pain, not from being flipped over her or his fight with the vampires. No. This pain was centered in his groin. With a groan, he pushed to his feet, thankful no one other than Ponytail Girl was around to see how pathetic he was being.

When he was standing at his full height, he took a step toward her, his hands out at his sides. “ Lumini?a mea .”

She gasped and kept one hand over her mouth as her other shot out and connected with his face in the form of a fist.

Vlad’s head snapped back, and he was pretty sure he felt his teeth rattle.

Get her to the altar at once! Roared his demon. Make her our wife!

The outburst was so far from the demon’s normal inner commentary that Vlad staggered, his hand going to his cheek where Ponytail Girl had punched him.

Her gaze narrowed on him again as she lowered her hand from her mouth enough for him to see her tiny fangs.

They were still adorable, and the sight of them made him remember what it felt like to have her feed from him. Unable to help himself, he reached down and adjusted his erection.

Her attention snapped to the action.

“Dude, seriously?” she asked, doing her best to talk without showing her fangs.

She is precious , said the demon. We are keeping her.

Ponytail Girl looked him over slowly, her gaze lingering on his groin long enough to tell him she was more than interested in the idea of coupling with him.

Good.

It had been four years since he’d had any desire whatsoever to enjoy the sins of the flesh, and he wasn’t going to spend another minute wasting time. There were so many things he wanted to ask her. So many things he needed to know. Like how it was she’d come to be in Grimm Cove? Was she all right? Did she remember her time with him at all? Had Lucian harmed her or her sister in any way? Was he still around so Vlad could kill him—slowly? Did she want to wear white when he made her his wife, or would she prefer black since she seemed to wear a lot of it?

The last thought made Vlad jerk back, confused as to where his newfound desire to make her his wife had come from, and more importantly, why was his demon so onboard with it. Never before in the nearly six hundred years it had been a part of him had it suggested anything of the sort.

It normally thought of women as cattle—as something to use to slake the hunger for blood and sex. Nothing more. It had no desire to cause them harm, but it cared little beyond filling its basic needs.

Memories of four years ago came flooding back to him. He thought of the desperation he’d felt when Harker had pushed visions of the two girls in the cave being attacked by Dragos and Helen Murray. He thought of the hopelessness he'd felt knowing he was in Essex, far from Romania, and that he could do nothing to help.

He thought of the split-second decision he'd made to leave his bed, which had been filled by two wanton and willing women, to rush back to Romania to assist women he did not know for a man who called him Prince Dick-u-la.

He thought of how he’d shifted into mist to make the journey faster, knowing it would tax his system, that it would take all of his reserves. But he hadn't cared. The overwhelming urge to get to them guiding his actions.

No , his demon corrected. We needed to get to her.

Vlad shook his head, thinking more about how he'd felt approaching the forest, when Katarina had kept an open mind link with him, keeping him apprised of Ponytail Girl’s condition, and how bleak it had been. He thought of the way he’d lost control of himself as he’d shifted from black mist to bats and then into a man. How he’d stumbled and nearly fallen, his landing anything but graceful.

He thought of the desperation that had rooted deep in his gut when he’d realized Katarina’s attempts at healing Ponytail Girl with her blood had ultimately failed. That she was dead—gone. And he thought of how he’d felt when his demon had pointed out that Ponytail Girl’s soul lingered in the ether, close enough to draw back into her body.

He could still remember the second he’d made the decision to break his own rule. The rule he’d put into place after the fiasco with Van Helsing and the others when they’d helped trap Dragos. The rule that he would not attempt to convert another. He’d commanded Ponytail Girl to drink his blood. He’d wanted to sire her, to bring her over to the darkness, so long as it meant she would live—however loose that term was when it came to what a vampire was.

Vlad thought about the way he’d been patient with her, working with her all night, every night, for the two weeks following the ordeal. How he’d wanted her to eat, to the point he welcomed her feeding directly from him if it meant she’d survive. And he thought of how much he’d wanted her in ways he shouldn’t then. She’d been vulnerable—having survived a horrible ordeal. And young. Eighteen or so at the time. And he thought about the moment he’d woken from a slumber that had felt unnatural—too deep—too long, only to find Ponytail Girl and White Wolf were missing and Lucian, The Betrayer, was nowhere to be found.

Vlad had thought of Ponytail Girl every single day since then. He’d searched the world over for her—crossed oceans, hoping to connect with her again. None of it had made sense to him. But now, looking at it as a whole, it became far clearer.

A sinking feeling came over him. Was she his mate?

Yes , the demon whispered, as if afraid of spooking him more in this moment of self-realization.

Had his demon always known as much?

I suspected as much , it confessed.

“And you are only telling me this now, why?” he demanded.

Ponytail Girl lifted a brow. “I’m only telling you what now?”

“Not you,” he said, looking off to the side while he focused on the demon inside of him. “This information would have been helpful to have earlier.”

To what end? it questioned with a huff. We could not locate her. Telling you what I suspected would have done nothing but cause you additional grief. We have found her. Focus on her. Not me.

Ponytail Girl glanced around in a dramatic fashion. “Uh, listen, you’re hot, like really friggin’ hot but you and I are the only two people here in this cemetery unless you’re counting the ones who are buried. Oh God, are you counting them?”

“No,” he said, his lips twitching, the urge to smile great.

Her eyes widened. “Crap. You’re not only hot, you’re bat crap crazy. Great. Sure. Hot. Undead. And nuts. I sure know how to pick them. But, damn, your abs look yummy enough to run my tongue over.”

“Yes. That please,” said Vlad and the demon at the same time.

“Are you crazy?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I am often called a mad men hellbent on destruction who impales his enemies.”

“Got a name, or should I just call you Hot Crazy Undead Guy?” she asked with a sexy smirk, her tiny fangs still showing.

“I am Dracula,” he said evenly, waiting for her to remember him and their time together in Romania.

Ponytail Girl’s lips trembled before she outright laughed—from the gut. “Okay, sure you are, and I’m the Tooth Fairy.”