Free Serafina and the Silent Vampire by Marie Treanor

into the darkness. And some strong but equally ambiguous emotion relating to the being beside her.
    “Freedom,” Sera gasped out. “You value freedom.”
    The vision, along with the sense of solitude, was vanishing, but the fingers on her throat, gently kneading the skin around her jugular, were more, not less, insistent.
    “And blood,” he said, his voice low and deep inside her mind. He bent his head closer. “Serafina… How apt. Fire and beauty…”
    Sera swallowed. She knew what her name meant. It was all she had from her parents, and all she’d ever dared to find out about. They’d given her it, even though it sat oddly with MacBride and promptly died or buggered off in some other way. Right now, she didn’t care about that. She felt all fire and beauty inside, almost like a revelation granted by the vampire’s cool, stroking fingers on her skin, his seductive voice in her mind. She caught a faint scent of earth and spice, and for no reason at all, her stomach twisted and sent tingles dancing downward between her legs.
    Oh fuck! Sera dragged the despised stick from her pocket and pushed it into his chest. “Don’t tempt me.”
    To her surprise, his eyes gleamed with something that looked like laughter. But at least he straightened and let his hand fall back onto his denim-covered thigh. There was a bulge in his jeans that had to be… No. Just don’t go there.
    He said, “We are, by nature, solitary, territorial creatures. Creating a new vampire is rare, since too many can only impede the safe supply of blood. I need to be rid of these interlopers.” He tapped one finger on his thigh as though in deep thought. “Do you know, I might let you help me.”
    Sera curled her lip. “Might you? Why? Can’t you find them on your own?”
    Something changed in his dark eyes before his thick lashes dropped down, covering whatever it was. When they rose, he looked merely amused, but Sera was triumphant.
    “You can’t, can you?” she crowed.
    He shrugged elegantly. “I can pick up their scent if I’m in the right place at the right time.”
    “Like a dog at a lamppost?” Sera interpolated.
    The vampire regarded her without overt pleasure. “Not exactly. But you, you can track by touch. I thought so last night when you ran from me, and today you proved it by following me here. I confess, I wasn’t best pleased initially, but now…”
    From his jeans’ pocket, he took a piece of cloth, black silk. “I picked this off a bramble bush in the garden last night, close to where we met. It might belong to a human. But I doubt it.”
    “Why?” Sera looked at the frayed, torn cloth without touching it. It could have been part of just about any dress she’d seen last night.
    “It’s not the sort of place humans go in all their finery. Besides, there was a vampiress at the party with a torn black dress.”
    With odd reluctance, Sera reached out and took the piece of cloth from him. For obvious reasons, she didn’t want to close her eyes in his company, so she merely stared hard at the silk.
    The red, swirling mists were still there, but they lurked in the background almost like old friends. Resentment and intrigue seemed to ooze from the cloth in equal measure; a trace of laughter, a surge of lust, deep and patient, and a vague scent of earth and spice.
    “You,” she gasped. “I’m just getting you.”
    He smiled lazily, watching the flush suffuse her face and neck. He could probably smell the blood rushing with such embarrassment through her veins.
    “Take it with you,” he offered. “I’m sure you’ll get more when you’re less…disturbed.”
    Indignantly, she stared at him, floundering for words.
    “Your friends are outside,” he said mildly. “I thought you’d want to leave.”
    Her phone went off before he’d finished speaking, and, glad of the interruption, she grabbed it.
    It was Jilly. “Sera?”
    “Yes, I’m fine. Just coming,” she mumbled and broke the connection, shoving the