Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Two (Midnight Harbor Book 2)

I just slammed the door in Bran’s face.

He’s going to get my ass for that one but for now I’m safe and sound in my own home and I’m gonna soar on this win for as long as I can. I fucking earned it.

Up in my bedroom, I hesitate just outside the square of moonlight pouring through my bedroom window. I haven’t turned on the overhead light yet, so I can easily see across the valley between my house and Bran’s.

His window is dark.

I quickly snap my curtains shut and then get ready for bed, thinking I’ll sleep like a baby.

Wrong. I toss and turn all night with this constant nagging desire to go to my bedroom window and peek through the curtains to see if Bran is there, to see if his bedroom light is on.

Somehow, I manage to stay beneath my quilt until my phone tells me it’s just after seven in the morning. I think I slept some, but not enough judging by the heaviness in my eyes and the ringing in my ears.

I pull on a pair of leggings and pass my bedroom window and find myself lingering in the slant of pale blue light stealing through the crack in the curtains.

I can’t help myself. I reach out and pull one back a few inches.

My heart sinks. Bran’s blinds are shut tight. Not that I should be surprised. It is morning, after all, and vampires hate mornings. He’ll be sleeping for the rest of the day.

Which is just as well because I have a life to return to and a shift at the coffee shop to work. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about what might happen when day falls and night breaks.

Bran will come looking for me. Of that I’m absolutely sure.

Just thinking about his promise before I slammed the door in his face has my skin prickling and my nerves lighting up.

You’ll pay for this one, little mouse.

Oh, the things Bran Duval promises to do to me in the dark. It’s enough to keep that teasing flame at my clit flickering long after it should have died out.

I hate the way he can sway me like that, but damn if I don’t love the rush it gives me.

I haven’t felt this much in my skin in…well, ever.

In the kitchen, I get the coffee maker going and then return to my bathroom to scrub my face and throw on some makeup. I only bother with mascara, a brush of blush, and a swipe of tinted chapstick. With my freckles, I’ve always thought it was pointless to wear concealer or foundation. I like my freckles. Let them shine.

Returning to the kitchen, I find the coffee maker has done its job and steam is rising from the pot and curling in the sunlight shining through the kitchen window. I find my favorite travel mug in the dishwasher and fill it up, add some creamer, and screw on the top. I still have forty-five minutes before I’m supposed to be at work but if I stay here any longer, I’m worried about what I might do.

I could probably walk in Bran’s front door and up to his bedroom and slip into his bed and—

Nope. Nope.

To work it is.

Climbing in behind the wheel of the Bimmer while the dew burns off of the grass feels familiar, and I take in a deep breath of the fresh morning air, then exhale.

Everything is going to be all right.

Rita is behind the counter when I walk into Magic Coffee Shop. She looks up when the bell dings, announcing my arrival. Her dark brow sinks over her brown eyes. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’m scheduled to work today.’ I hang my bag on the hook in the back and then tie on one of the waist aprons with the Magic Coffee Shop logo embroidered in rainbow thread on the hip.

Rita’s frown deepens.

‘What?’ I say.

‘It’s just…’ She licks her lips and tucks her pen into her top knot of braids. ‘Why don’t you take the day off? I know you have a lot going on and—’

‘Rita, I want to be here.’ I sigh and scrub at my face. ‘No, I think what I mean is, I need to be here. Is that okay? I want to just work and clear my head and be normal for a second.’

She purses her lips together and regards me with the warm, concerned look of a mother. Finally, she nods. ‘I was planning on being here for the morning anyway, so I’ll catch up on some paperwork and maybe pop down to the supply store after the lunch rush.’

‘Sounds perfect.’

As she passes me for her office in the back, she wraps her hand around my arm and squeezes. I catch the scent of her oil blend—patchouli and lemongrass and lavender. ‘If you need me, you just call for me, okay?’

‘Sure. I’ll be fine. I promise.’

With a nod, she lets me go and disappears in back.

It isn’t long before the shop is full and I’m so busy, I don’t have a spare minute to dwell on all the shit going wrong in my life. It’s absolute bliss.

Gwen, a witch barista who works at the shop, shows up for her afternoon shift a little after two, so when my best friend Sam walks in the door at half-past-three, I can take a little break to chat with her.

After a quick hug, she sits on a stool at the counter and grabs a honey stick from the display cup. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ She reaches over the counter for the scissors and clips off the end of the stick. Honey oozes out the end and she licks it off.

‘You won’t believe me if I told you,’ I answer.

‘Yes, I would. Because you don’t lie.’

I pull to a stop and frown at her.

‘What?’ she says.

Fae can’t lie. I don’t lie on principle, but I have lied in the past. Like that time Principal Manwell caught me skipping class and I told him my sister had an emergency which was totally not true.

But…how can that be? Fae can’t lie. That’s like written in the fae canon or whatever.

Maybe Bran was wrong. Thinking this, thinking I have an out, fills me with so much damn relief I nearly weep.

‘Jess,’ Sam prods. ‘Why do you have that dumb look on your face?’

I arch a brow at her and she laughs.

‘I just realized something is all. Anyway…’ I fill one of the portafilters with freshly ground espresso and tamp it down. ‘I’ve been with Bran Duval.’

Sam clamps her teeth on the honey stick as her eyes get big. ‘Okay. Okay. Definitely didn’t expect that twist, but I’m here for it,’ she says. ‘Go on.’

I twist the filter into the espresso machine and push the button to brew. The machine churns to life.

‘It all started after Kelly showed up with this nasty bite on her neck,’ I say.

‘I’ve clearly missed so much.’

As I make Sam her favorite frappe, I fill her in on most of the details, but have to leave out a few key points considering anyone in the coffee shop could be listening in with their supernatural hearing.

I don’t tell Sam about the mind-bending sex with the infamous Bran Duval. I can dish all those details later.

‘Here’s where things get a little wild,’ I tell her as I slide the frappe over the counter. ‘Are you ready for it?’

She upends the rest of the honey stick into the cup. ‘I’ve had the most boring twenty-four hours compared to yours, so yes. Mom sent me to Mulligan House for a celebration ritual that amounted to a turkey dinner and a bonfire for burning our fears.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘I don’t know if I’m cut out for being bound to a witch house. I find all of the rituals and ceremonies”—she lowers her voice and leans in—“insufferable. So go on, I could stand for some excitement even if it’s not mine.’

‘Okay, well…Bran bit me and—’

‘He what?!’

‘And he said he tasted something different in my blood.’

‘He…what?’

I want to tell her exactly what he thinks he tasted in my blood but again…ears.

‘And then I found out when I went to Duval House with him that he supposedly left the house because of me. And now he won’t tell me why. How the hell does that make any sense?’

Sam puts her head in her hands. ‘I’m trying to compute all of this and it’s not working.’

‘Welcome to my Shit Show, Sam. Pull up a chair and pour a stiff drink, because it’s wild in here.’

‘You aren’t kidding.’ She sits with the information for a second and then sips from her frappe. ‘Okay. So. First thing…he bit you. What did he taste?’

I scan the people in the shop. Most are absorbed in their own conversations, but a few people are alone with their devices.

‘He has a theory, but…hold on.’ I pull out my cell phone and bring up the text window. I hit Sam’s name and type up a message that says: he thinks he tasted fae blood.

My heart drums a little harder as my thumb hovers over the SEND button. Being with Bran and being inside his world sorta feels like a dark fairy tale. And in that dark fairy tale, it’s not that big of a deal, the girl finding out she has fae blood running through her veins.

But out here in my normal life, telling Sam will somehow make it very, very real.

Sam widens her eyes at me, telling me to hurry up.

I send the message with a deep breath and Sam’s phone pings a second later. When she opens and reads the message, she nearly falls off her stool. She grabs at the counter at the last second and the stool knocks back to the floor.

‘WHAT?!’ she says too loudly.

Several heads turn our way.

‘Shhh!’

‘WHAT?’ she repeats, still clutching at the counter.

‘I know it sounds crazy.’

‘Crazy? Ha. Ha!’

‘Are you okay?’

She gives me a look. ‘After you dropped that asteroid? I mean! How…but…okay…he…you…do you believe him?’

I left out the part about Sasha and her bite because that’s a giant secret that isn’t entirely mine to tell.

The Sasha information is a thorn in my side that I can’t seem to pluck out. The secret about her biting me and then ‘disappearing’ didn’t come from Bran. It came from Runa and Cal. It’s much harder to ignore proof when it comes from multiple sources.

‘I honestly don’t know what to believe at this point,’ I tell Sam. ‘I suspect Kelly has been avoiding me and she’s the only person who might be able to shed more light on it.’

‘Your Pledging is two days away,’ Sam points out.

I collapse against the back counter and let out a sigh that sends my bangs fluttering over my forehead. ‘I know.’

‘What if Damien bids on you? Are you going to accept it?’

If I joined Duval House, I’d have to leave my home and the only other place I could go would be Duval House, which would put me further away from Bran. Unless…would he come back?

Is that even what I want at this point?

Once you accept a bid and Pledge yourself to a House, there’s no backsies. That’s a decision you make for life. I have to be careful about what I do, if I do anything.

I could still leave Midnight.

But thinking about leaving immediately brings to mind Bran in his bed, pleading with me not to go.

And going doesn’t hold the same allure it did.

One very hot, very annoying vampire has taken that place.

Everything about Bran is a whirlwind, a chaos storm, and I’m swept up inside of it.

I hate him and I’m pissed at him and yet…I can’t get enough of him.

‘Jessie!’ Sam snaps her fingers in my face. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I—’

The bell above the door rings out. Instinctively, I turn to the customer to greet them, but the air gets lodged in my throat and no words can find their way out.

The one and only very hot, very annoying vampire is standing in a triangle of sunlight in the doorway. Smoke rises from his shoulders and curls in the light. Dark sunglasses shield his eyes, but I know he’s looking right at me.

Vampires very rarely come out before five p.m. Too much UV light. Too much risk of spontaneously combusting.

But Bran isn’t just any vampire. And he’s not here for an afternoon jolt of caffeine.

‘Get your keys,’ he tells me.

‘I’m working.’

‘Get your keys and get in the car, mouse.’ His voice rumbles with authority.

Sam looks between me and Bran at the door. The rest of the coffee shop does the same. This is a reality TV show taking place right in front of their eyes.

What will the girl do?

I fold my arms over my chest. ‘And what if I don’t?’

What I expect him to do is lay out some minor threat that could also be construed as a sexual punishment. I’m almost looking forward to it. I pretty much asked for this, didn’t I? I’m the kid testing out the outlet with the pointy tines of a fork.

But what Bran says instead catches me off guard and makes my heart drop to my feet.

‘If you don’t, then I’ll leave Midnight right now and never come back.’

And here I thought I had the upper hand. I was wrong yet again. Bran isn’t a storm I’m caught up in. He is the sun and I am involuntarily drawn to him, stuck in his gravitational pull.

I won’t refuse him. I can’t. I don’t want to, knowing what the consequence will be.

And he knows it.

He’s found my weakness and now he’s making me admit to it. As much to him as to myself.

‘Jess?’ Sam says.

‘Looks like I have to go.’ I untie my apron. ‘Gwen, are you good?’

The witch nods at the other end of the counter. ‘I’m good.’

I grab my bag from the back and give Sam a quick hug. ‘I’ll call you later?’

‘You better.’ She eyes Bran over my shoulder. He’s still smoking in the sunlight but he hasn’t flinched.

How long before a vampire bursts into flames?

How long before I smolder in his wake?

When I reach him, I’m faced with my reflection in the lenses of his sunglasses. They’re so dark, I can’t see his eyes, but I can feel the weight of his stare.

‘After you,’ he says.

I step out into the light and fish the keys from my bag. We cross the street together, leaving a trail of smoke behind us. Bran is oddly calm about the whole thing, considering he’s walking tinder at this point.

At the Bimmer, Bran stops at the trunk. ‘Open it, mouse.’ I fumble with the keys and get the one I need trapped in the ring of my Dude Where’s My Car? keyring. ‘Hurry, mouse.’

I finally get it untangled and pop the trunk. Bran shoves aside my bag of jumper cables and bungee cords and climbs in.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Drive until sunset,’ he orders, a very clear thread of anger reverberating in his voice.

‘Are you—’

He grabs the trunk and slams it closed, sealing him inside. Smoke wafts out in a plume, causing me to cough. You’d think it’d smell like burning flesh, but there’s only the faintest hint of spice and ash.

‘Okay then.’ I wave the smoke away and climb in behind the wheel.

I drive in circles for what feels like hours. I decide to take some of my favorite roads, the narrow lane that winds along Midnight Lake where the houses are practically built on top of each other, each vying for a view of the water.

I head north after that and pass a few of the farms on the outskirts of Midnight, where the farmers not only deal in eggs and beef, but also in blood for the few vampires in town who choose to go the animal route instead of the human one.

As the sun descends below the treetops, I’m way back in the woods on a dirt road.

It’s here that my trunk pops open.

I glance at the rear-view mirror for only a second, but when I look back at the road, Bran is there in the weak beam of my headlights, his shirt charred at the shoulders.

‘Christ!’ I slam on the brakes. The tires skid over the gravel and I have to whip the wheel around just to stay on the road.

I finally come to a stop and throw the car into park.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I yell. ‘I could have crashed my car!’

Bran stalks to the driver’s side door and rips it open.

‘Hey!’

He grabs me by the arm and yanks me out, spins me around and slams me over the hood. I huff out a breath, hands braced on the warm metal as the engine continues to run.

‘What are you—’

There’s a clank of metal, a snap of leather, and a second later, my arms are crossed over my back and tied at the wrists with Bran’s leather belt.

He bends over me with all of his weight, his groin at the swell of my ass. ‘Are you listening now, mouse?’

My heart is slamming against my ear drums. ‘Yes.’

I have a safe word. I could use it if I needed to.

‘I have very little respect for human life,’ he admits. ‘And even less patience for games.’

‘I thought we were—’

His hand curls around my throat as his mouth comes to the curve of my ear. ‘Quiet, little mouse. It’s my turn to speak.’

I swallow hard. His grip tightens.

‘I operate on a very thin line,’ he says. ‘With you, I try very, very hard to control myself.’ His voice rumbles. He’s suddenly thick and hard at the seam of my ass. ‘But that control has its limits. If you want this, little mouse, you only get it one way. My way. Do you understand me?’

My pussy throbs. ‘Yes.’

The pressure of his weight disappears and I’m just exhaling with relief when he yanks my pants down, baring me, and cracks me across the ass.

‘Ouch! What the—’ I wiggle against the car, but Bran presses his free hand at the small of my back, locking me in place. He spanks me again, hard, and a sharp thrill pulses through my pussy as the pain radiates across my cheek.

He takes up a length of my hair and wraps it around his hand, yanking my head back. ‘Will you obey me?’

I pant out a breath. I’m suddenly throbbing and wet.

Say what you want about Bran Duval, he knows all of the buttons to push.

I’m over here playing checkers and he’s launching a fucking rocket ship.

‘I will only ask you this once. Yes or no, mouse?’ His other hand follows the curve of my ass, his fingers trailing devilishly close to my slick opening. Instinctively I push into him and he pulls my hair harder.

‘Yes,’ I say.

‘Yes what?’

Every day, you’re faced with choices. Do you want almond milk or oatmilk? The red shoes or the black ones?

Sometimes the choices are life-altering, like this one.

Sometimes it’ll change you irrevocably and your life will branch off in an entirely different direction.

This is that choice.

I can feel the tremor of it at the center of me. A seismic shift.

I will never be the same after Bran Duval.

I will never be the same after this choice. It’s throwing everything I thought I knew about myself into question.

And yet…and yet…

There is now a spotlight on what I want and what I need and I know it includes Bran as much as he frustrates and annoys me.

I don’t know why. I don’t know what it says about me to like this so damn much, but if I don’t look too closely at it, maybe I’ll come out the other side unscathed.

‘Yes,’ I say, ‘I’ll obey you.’

‘Good girl.’ He spins me around. ‘Now get on your knees.’