Free Undead and Unappreciated by MaryJanice Davidson

worthy of my station, but it always took a while to get organized and out the door. Maybe I’d have elevators installed. And those concave mirrors they had in convenience stores. It would be nice to see who was coming down the hall.
    Speaking of surprises, I rounded yet another corner and there was His Majesty King Sinclair coming toward me.
    He was impeccably dressed in trademark temperate colors: dark slacks, black belt, black shirt, black wool greatcoat. The dark clothes made even his eyes seem black, like a starless night in the middle of winter; I couldn’t tell where the irises stopped and the pupils began.
    There was some color in his cheeks—not a chill from being outside like you’d expect from a regular guy, but because he’d recently fed. I wondered who he’d bitten. Normally I tried not to think about it, but since he’d ditched the harem (in a needy attempt to get on my good side) he had to be hard up for blood.
    Maybe he pounced on muggers and rapists, like I did. Of course, due to recent eye-opening events, I was a little more broad-minded now about the quality of victims. Really, if they were on the street, they were fair game. It’s not like they died from it or anything. Well, they might now. But I had other things to worry about.
    “You’re looking yummy,” I said, reaching out as he neared and stroking the lapel of his coat. “As usual.”
    “So are…you…” he replied slowly, stopping in mid-stride and giving me a closer look. “You smell like blood. You’ve spilled some on your shirt.”
    “Silly me.”
    “And are those rubber boots?”
    I edged closer. “Don’t you think there are more interesting things for us to talk about than footgear?”
    His gorgeous brow wrinkled. “Er…well, yes, frankly, but—”
    I pulled him close and kissed him on the mouth. His firm, yummy mouth. Ooofa. How had I kept my hands off him all these months? His room was five doors down from mine, not five miles.
    His hands were instantly all over me, slipping up the back of my turtleneck and clutching my shoulders. Oh, good, he wasn’t going to be difficult.
    I ripped through his coat and shirt, and we lurched back and forth in the hallway, clothes tearing, tongues exploring. We crashed through a door—and I don’t mean we bumped into it and it flew open. I mean we left splinters and fell over a chair or something—I dunno, I wasn’t taking a fucking inventory, I didn’t even know what room we were in—and then we were rolling around on the dusty carpet.
    His throat was right over my mouth while his hands were busy below my waist, tearing through my clothes to give himself access, and I couldn’t resist and bit him. He stiffened above me, and I nearly groaned as his warm sweet/salty blood filled my mouth. His hands moved faster, the tearing got louder, and then he was shoving his way inside me, filling me up, and I rose to meet him and then pulled back from his neck.
    I licked his throat, and he seized me by the hair, jerked my head to one side, and sank his fangs into my neck. His rough urgency shoved me over into orgasm, and I brought my knees up and met him thrust for thrust. I had another one and was trying for big number three when he shuddered and his head dropped to my shoulder.
    “So,” I said after a moment, “you’re gonna need a new coat.”
    He laughed. “Among other things.”
    I stuck out my arm and looked at my watch over his shoulder. “Well, we’ve got about an hour until the sun comes up. I was gonna run down to Scratch, but I guess I could do that tomorrow.”
    “Is it time for the tiresome small talk?”
    “I was thinking it was time for the oral sex.”
    He rolled off me, jumped to his feet, picked me up in his arms, and galloped to my room.

Chapter 12
    “D are I ask what prompted this change of heart?” he asked after slamming the door shut with his heel and dumping me in the middle of the bed.
    “It’s boring,” I replied, removing the shreds of my clothes.