Free The Dark's Mistress (The Saint-Pierres) by Michele Hauf Page A

sucking on a mortal’s neck, but innocence was always abandoned when the blood hunger struck at puberty.
    A finger trailed along Johnny’s neck.  Upon sitting down, Viviane had handed him a time-yellowed book of lascivious drawings that had been bound in the eighteenth century.  Rhys had purchased the prize for her at an auction for a cool quarter million euros.
    “G-ma, don’t.”  He shooed away Viviane’s hand.  “This one is insane.”  He tapped the sketch that featured a lusty fop in a hip-swinging frockcoat offering his lover a huge wooden dildo; his erection was as large and bursting through his breeches.  “An excellent definition of morning wood, eh?”
    Viviane giggled and sniffed his neck.
    “Seriously, G-ma, no biting!  That’s not cool.  Leave family members alone.  Do you need me to drive you in to town for a bite?”
    His grandmother needed blood daily; a condition of her insanity.  And she had no boundaries with family members, which made family get-togethers challenging.  Johnny took it in stride.  She couldn’t help that she’d gone mad.  And she was sane more often than insane, so there was that.
    He set down the book and clasped her hand, beringed in diamonds and rubies.  A tilt of her head onto his shoulder, spilling her thick black hair over his shoulder.  Like the darkest night without stars, she’d once described the family’s propensity for dark tresses to him. 
    “You hungry, G-ma?”
    “Just teasing, my pretty.  I drank Rhys’s blood this morning before he left for the office.”

    “You know I’d give you my life, but drinking from your grandson is not cool.  The sexual connotations make it squicky.”
    “My twenty-first century boy, I have no idea what that word means.”
    “It’s like squirmy and icky mixed together.”
    “You’re such a prude, Johnny.”
    “And you are a libertine, Viviane Hawkes.”
    “And proud of it!”  She hugged him and snuggled in closer, tugging away the book to tuck alongside Johnny’s thigh and the sofa cushion.  “So what have you been up to since we last spoke?  Tell me tales!”
    His grandmother loved to talk about her paintings and gardening projects, and in turn listen to him talk about his life.
    No way could he tell her about Vail’s mistake. 
    “I climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower last night.  With a pretty woman.”
    “I’ve a rival for my heart?”
    “Never, G-ma.  You will always be my favorite vampiress.  But this woman.  She’s…”  He sighed and shook his head.  An irrepressible smile was impossible to hold back.
    “Oh.  That’s the way of it.  My bright young boy can’t even find the words?  She must be special indeed.”

    “I haven’t known her long, but I feel like I already know her so deeply.  Like I can see inside her.  I want to win her heart, G-ma.  I’m not sure how to do it.”
    “I once ripped out your grandfather’s heart.”  She giggled.
    “I know about that.  Well deserved, as I understand.  If at all possible, I’d like to keep Kambriel’s heart where it is, inside her chest.  There’s gotta be less violent ways to woo her.”
    Viviane mocked a pout.  “Not as interesting, but certainly easier to prolong a relationship when one’s paramour has an intact heart.”
    “Most definitely.  How did Grandpa Rhys win your heart?”
    “He won it twice.  So long ago, and not so long ago.”  She danced her fingers before her as her mind slipped into the past.
    Johnny knew the past was more dangerous to Viviane than the present so he abruptly stood and took her hand.  “Let’s wander out to the patio and check the flowers climbing the pergola.  While we’re at it, you can give me some suggestions how to woo a lady.”
    “Oh, sonnets!” she trilled as she danced out behind him onto the stone-paved patio that was shaded from the burning rays.  “When Rhys taught me to read sonnets he won me forever.”
    “Sonnets, eh?  I’m not sure Kam