Free VAMPIRE ROMANCE: Moonlight Desires Complete Series (Books 1, 2, &3) (Paranormal Romance Collection, Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance With Sex) (Vampire Romance Boxed Set) by Piquette Fontaine Page A
Authors: Piquette Fontaine
made up the intersection where the 7-Eleven sat, Shana became more aware of her surroundings, and in turn Mr. Clean's tattoos. They were a series of strange glyphs: a pentagram on the right bicep, ram's head on the right, some text written backwards in Latin along his clavicle, an upside down crucifix behind his ear.
Mr. Clean was courteous enough, just curt. When the EMTs showed up he provided little personal information. The EMTs rifled through the man's wallet looking for ID, and one of them attempted to pocket the cash. Mr. Clean caught this and started taking video on his phone as quickly as he could.
“If you return the cash and put that wallet back in his pocket, I'll delete this video right now.”
The EMT was mortified of Mr. Clean, the video, and the pentagram inked into his skin. You could see sunlight shimmer in the sweat that his skinny fingers left on the ten-dollar bill. As he slipped the wallet into the man's back pocket, the seized man groaned. “Ok, Mister?” asked the EMT.
Mr. Clean fiddled with his phone and chuckled to himself. “Nah, I'm going to keep this video anyway. No telling when it could come in handy.” Shana corroborated.
The man started to come to as the EMTs loaded him into the ambulance via gurney. He spit up that chunky black blood and it dribbled down his jaw.
Shana looked toward Mr. Clean. “Do you know Baker?”
He may have been caught off guard but his stony face didn't show it. “Yes.”
“When's the last time he turned a woman?”
Mr. Clean broke eye contact to stand. “Why do you care?” The flash of jealousy in Shana's face was all the answer that he needed. “Take my advice and stay away from Lake View Cemetery. These days the mortals that hang around that place are a lot more dangerous than the blood suckers.”
With not so much as a goodbye, Mr. Clean started off.
“I was chased,” Shana yelped when he was about a dozen steps away. Mr. Clean stopped but he did not turn around. His knee lifted to move him forward. “I was chased by some man, some man with a hobble. He broke the window of my car with an ice pick.”
This got Mr. Clean to turn around, but he did not walk towards Shana. Shana approached him.
“God knows where he wanted to stick that icepick, but I was done for.”
Mr. Clean turned to give her a dead-eyed stare. One of his biceps twitched involuntarily. “You will stay away from Lake View Cemetery.”
There was zero commitment on Shana's part. Just questions. “Do you know the man? His fingers were like little stubs. It's like he was missing parts of them, digits.”
“Tiny sacrifice. Parts of bodies at a time. You don't want to know who, or rather what, they're worshipping. You don't.”
“Do they kill people?”
“Not at first, no. Sometimes the people die from the mutilations, sometimes they are killed because they try to escape.”
Shana’s face was red hot and there was a three-pound stone in her chest. She hesitated a beat too long, but Mr. Clean waited. “Do they take children?”
“No. Not often. Sometimes.” It was at this moment that Shana lost all the strength she conjured to save the seizing man, that she broke through her malaise of lust for the vampire. It was at this moment that Shana bawled. Mr. Clean did something expected for a musclebound, stoic man covered in glyphs. He hugged this strange woman that he met through chance alone.
This was not a woman in good shape. The tears streaming out of her eyes lent a slick shimmer to the bruise forming around her eye where the seizing man had hit her. Her muscles loosened, human Shana morphing into a rag doll Shana. “My nephew... He's been gone since yesterday.” Mr. Clean rubbed her back with one hand and pressed her against him with the other.
After a few minutes, “How familiar are you with the teachings of Anton LaVey, the Church of Satan?”
Shana through tears and sniffles,
Mr. Clean was courteous enough, just curt. When the EMTs showed up he provided little personal information. The EMTs rifled through the man's wallet looking for ID, and one of them attempted to pocket the cash. Mr. Clean caught this and started taking video on his phone as quickly as he could.
“If you return the cash and put that wallet back in his pocket, I'll delete this video right now.”
The EMT was mortified of Mr. Clean, the video, and the pentagram inked into his skin. You could see sunlight shimmer in the sweat that his skinny fingers left on the ten-dollar bill. As he slipped the wallet into the man's back pocket, the seized man groaned. “Ok, Mister?” asked the EMT.
Mr. Clean fiddled with his phone and chuckled to himself. “Nah, I'm going to keep this video anyway. No telling when it could come in handy.” Shana corroborated.
The man started to come to as the EMTs loaded him into the ambulance via gurney. He spit up that chunky black blood and it dribbled down his jaw.
Shana looked toward Mr. Clean. “Do you know Baker?”
He may have been caught off guard but his stony face didn't show it. “Yes.”
“When's the last time he turned a woman?”
Mr. Clean broke eye contact to stand. “Why do you care?” The flash of jealousy in Shana's face was all the answer that he needed. “Take my advice and stay away from Lake View Cemetery. These days the mortals that hang around that place are a lot more dangerous than the blood suckers.”
With not so much as a goodbye, Mr. Clean started off.
“I was chased,” Shana yelped when he was about a dozen steps away. Mr. Clean stopped but he did not turn around. His knee lifted to move him forward. “I was chased by some man, some man with a hobble. He broke the window of my car with an ice pick.”
This got Mr. Clean to turn around, but he did not walk towards Shana. Shana approached him.
“God knows where he wanted to stick that icepick, but I was done for.”
Mr. Clean turned to give her a dead-eyed stare. One of his biceps twitched involuntarily. “You will stay away from Lake View Cemetery.”
There was zero commitment on Shana's part. Just questions. “Do you know the man? His fingers were like little stubs. It's like he was missing parts of them, digits.”
“Tiny sacrifice. Parts of bodies at a time. You don't want to know who, or rather what, they're worshipping. You don't.”
“Do they kill people?”
“Not at first, no. Sometimes the people die from the mutilations, sometimes they are killed because they try to escape.”
Shana’s face was red hot and there was a three-pound stone in her chest. She hesitated a beat too long, but Mr. Clean waited. “Do they take children?”
“No. Not often. Sometimes.” It was at this moment that Shana lost all the strength she conjured to save the seizing man, that she broke through her malaise of lust for the vampire. It was at this moment that Shana bawled. Mr. Clean did something expected for a musclebound, stoic man covered in glyphs. He hugged this strange woman that he met through chance alone.
This was not a woman in good shape. The tears streaming out of her eyes lent a slick shimmer to the bruise forming around her eye where the seizing man had hit her. Her muscles loosened, human Shana morphing into a rag doll Shana. “My nephew... He's been gone since yesterday.” Mr. Clean rubbed her back with one hand and pressed her against him with the other.
After a few minutes, “How familiar are you with the teachings of Anton LaVey, the Church of Satan?”
Shana through tears and sniffles,
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