But like I said, I won’t send this because I’m your assistant and I love my job. I also need my job to pay off my exorbitant student loans and you pay me ridiculously well. And the health insurance you offer is amazing! But I just had to verbalize all of this desire I feel towards you. Okay, well I guess that’s it.”

  It’s not it for me though because now my dick is aching. It’s been so long since I had something naturally arouse me. I press my palm against my boxers. Then I do the unthinkable. I pull out my cock and hit play again on her message.

  I spit on my hand, and then fist my shaft. Sweet, perfect Rosie thinking she has a crush on me. I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch her. To grip those full damn hips, watch the jiggle of her plump ass.

  I want to scent her right between her tits. I know she’d smell incredible there.

  My fangs tingle, growing slightly longer. I run my tongue against their sharp points. My hand shuttles faster. Head leaning back against the chair and eyes closed, I come with a groan of her name.

  chapter

  seven

  Rosie

  The first thing I realize when I wake up is that I’m still on my sofa. Figs has made himself comfortable laying on my hip. My eyes feel crusty and I’m pretty sure I’m seconds away from my bladder exploding.

  “Figgy, you gotta move.” I wiggle myself trying to unseat my hefty boy. He glares at me with his sleepy green eyes. I wiggle more and with a huff, he jumps off of me.

  I empty said bladder, wash my face and brush my teeth. As I’m staring at myself in the mirror, flashes of the night before filter through my brain. I really need to stop drinking wine. Or at least cheap wine I buy at a gas station.

  Then I remember the podcast and the subsequent message I recorded for Hudson.

  “Oh, please no!” I run out of the bathroom, toothbrush still stuck in my mouth and frantically look for my phone. It’s buried between the couch cushions.

  When I activate the screen, my worst nightmare comes true.

  Voice Memo Sent

  Oh my God!

  What have I done?

  Probably gotten myself fired. Maybe even sued for sexual harassment. Or arrested. Then I’m just nothing more than a statistic.

  Deep breaths. Maybe it’s not as bad as I think. I replay the message and wince.

  Climb him like a jungle gym.

  “What is wrong with me?”

  I need a plan. If I could access his phone, I could maybe delete the memo before he hears it. But that’s unlikely. I know he works at night most of the time because he can’t sleep. I’ve got to talk to him. Explain. Promise it’ll never happen again and tell him that I’ll never act on it.

  I should call him.

  No, he probably won’t even answer. E-mail? Another voice memo?

  I glance at the time on my phone. If I leave now, I could be at the hotel in less than an hour if I don’t hit traffic. I desperately need this job.

  Also, I respect Hudson and I hate that I objectified him.

  I meant every damn word, drunk or sober. But still, I shouldn’t have even said them out loud.

  Without another thought, I jump into action. Showering, packing a bag, grabbing Figs and his supplies, and putting him in his travel kennel. Then I’m in the car on my way to Stream in the Woods.

  On my way to Hudson.

  chapter

  eight

  Hudson

  It’s probably a good thing that most of the hotel guests have already checked in for Monster Mash, which doesn’t officially start until tomorrow. Though I think there’s an unofficial gathering tonight for people if they want. I’m not planning to attend any of it myself, but I am glad to provide a place for them to come and be themselves in a place where there’s no judgement.

  I’ve never enjoyed crowds though, so I’ll likely stick to my suite and leave the staff to handle everything. The hotel runs smoothly most of the time.

  I’m just about to retreat to my suite when there’s a bit of a commotion coming from the main entrance, where several of the monsters have gathered in a cluster. I turn just in time to see a flash of blonde hair.

  My heart rate ticks up automatically before I remind myself that it’s not Rosie. My obsession is getting out of hand. Especially after that damn voice memo.

  The woman who just entered does look remarkably similar… no, it can’t be. The closer she gets though, the more certain I become. Mouthwatering, plump curves fill out her yoga pants and t-shirt. She slides her sunglasses up on top of her head, her eyes wide and looking all around her.

  Because, of course, there are monsters all over the fucking lobby. Me, included.

  Goddammit!

  I walk around the front desk and storm towards her. The minute she recognizes me, her whole face brightens. Her smile is wide and genuine and makes me feel warm all over. Which is fucking weird because ever since I turned, I’ve been cold. Always so cold.

  But she’s like a walking sunbeam and it literally steals my breath.

  “Hudson,” she breathes my name when I reach her.

  I grab her by the elbow and move her out of the main flow of traffic. “What are you doing here?” I hiss.

  How wide brown eyes look up at me, no fear to be found in their chocolatey depths.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were hosting a cosplay event?” She glances around us. “These people are legit. I mean I’ve never been to a con, but from what I’ve seen online, these folks have stepped it up on their costumes.”

  What the hell is she talking about?

  She nudges me in the gut and instinctively I try to suck in my stomach. “Look at that guy.” She nods towards a wolf man leaning against the wall. “He looks like an actual werewolf. That’s crazy.”

  I stare at her though. She’s so fucking beautiful, it nearly hurts to look at her. So sweet, so young… EMPLOYEE!!!

  “You need to leave,” I say.

  A frown furrows her brow. “Why? I’m here now and I can help. This event looks like a big one. The sign outside said you were fully booked. That’s amazing.” She reaches over and squeezes my arm.

  Why does she keep touching me? It’s incredibly distracting.

  “But I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me about it. Clearly whoever you had do the planning and advertising did a great job.” She blows out a breath, obviously frustrated that she wasn’t invited to participate in this event. Her eyes narrow a little and then she steps closer. Then she gasps.

  Fuck. She clearly just saw my fangs. Here’s where she’s gonna scream and run in the other direction. Who could blame her?

  Then she goes up on her tip-toes—because I’m a fucking giant—and actually taps her fingernail on one of my fangs.

  Do not lick her or bite her.

  “These are amazing. Are they custom-made?” She steps back, but her eyes are still locked on my mouth. “Of course they’re custom-made. Now let me see,” she steps back again and then eyes me up and down. “You’ve got the fangs, but you’re not wearing a traditional Dracula-type cloak or whatever. Earring. Rocking eighties hair.” She gasps again. “You’re a vampire from an eighties movie. Like Fright Night or The Lost Boys.”

  I tilt my head back. “Fuck my life.”

  “The look would totally work for Silver Bullet and An American Werewolf in London too, but werewolves, not vampires.”

  “You seem kind of young to be a fan of eighties movies,” I say.

  “Yeah, I guess I am. My fourth foster mom loved them and played pretty much just those. Well, those movies and Wheel of Fortune. I love eighties movies. They’re the best. The teen rom-coms, the horrors that were also comedies, just all of them. So am I right? Is that what you were going for?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m impressed. You really went all-out for this.” She points a finger at me like I’m a naughty boy. “I would not have pegged you for a cosplayer. I mean, not that I’d peg you. Unless that’s something you’re into. And then I probably would …” Her eyes go wide, as if she’s just realized what she said. “Oh my God, I’m sorry that I have no filter.”

  Her eyes close and she shakes her head. “I came here to apologize for my inappropriate voice memo and then I just said something way worse. I mean who offers to peg their boss?” she asks in a hushed voice.

  I don’t know whether to laugh or kiss her. She is so fucking adorable.

  “It’s fine, Rosie. Maybe you should just go. We can forget about the voice memo. It won’t affect your job. I can switch you to be under my second in command’s charge if it will make you feel more comfortable.”

  “Please don’t do that. I really enjoy working with you. I know I’m probably a pest, but I really do want to make your life easier. So I hope you’ll let me continue being your assistant.” Her big brown eyes look at me pleadingly.

  “Fine. We’ll figure it out.” I scan the lobby to see that the monsters are all watching our interaction. Most with open curiosity, but a few with a predatory gleam that I don’t like. “But you should go ahead and leave.”

  “Not a good idea, boss man,” Chester says from behind me.

  I shoot a glare at him. “Why is that?”

  “Nasty storm approaching. It really wouldn’t be safe for her to be out there in the woods during the dark and the rain.”

  “My car has headlights,” she offers.

  I swallow a chuckle. “How bad of a storm?” I ask my familiar.

  “Potential flash floods, upwards of six inches in an hour in some places.”

  “Fuck.” I blow out a breath. Something about Screaming Woods attracts not just monsters, but dramatic weather patterns as well. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Rosie, come with me.” Again, I take her elbow and drag her with me. I should probably slow my steps since her legs are considerably shorter than mine, but I don’t.

  But then she comes to a screeching halt. “Wait. Figs!”

  “What?”

  “My cat. He was napping in his kennel, so I just left him in there since the weather was cool enough.”

  I hold out my hand. “Keys.”

  She drops them into my palm. “Chester, go get Ms. Breit’s belongings from her car. Including her cat.” I practically spit that last word.

  “Do you not like cats? You’re not allergic, are you?” she asks.

  “No, cats are fine. They just normally don’t like me. We’ll be in my suite,” I tell my familiar after Rosie gives him a description of her vehicle.

  And then I’m leading my gorgeous assistant up to my private suite. Again, I say, fuck my life.

  chapter

  nine

  Rosie

  Oh my God, he’s so much better looking in person. I wouldn’t have thought that was possible. Especially all decked out like a sexy vampire. Evidently, I have a new kink that just unlocked.

  I walk as quickly as my chubby legs can go, considering he’s moving at a rapid pace. Of course, his stride is probably double mine.

  “This hotel is really something special,” I say. “You’ve built a magical place. It’s a shame more people don’t visit. Though I’m guessing this conference will change that.”

  He just grunts. Then he’s tapping on a keypad and opening a door. The room on the other side isn’t a standard hotel room. It’s not even a hotel suite. No, it’s like I’m stepping into a home. It’s clearly been renovated to match the house’s Tudor style. Dark wood paneling covers the walls and gorgeous wood beams accent the high ceiling.

  “This is beautiful,” I say.

  Again, he grunts in response. He leads me all the way in and walks me into a large open space where there’s a sitting area and a massive stone fireplace.

  “There’s a kitchen through there,” he points to an arched doorway to the right. “The bedroom and bath are that way.” He lifts his chin in the opposite direction.

  A knock sounds on the door behind us.

  “That’ll be your cat and your stuff,” he says.

  Sure enough, when he opens the door, Chester, from the lobby, rolls a bell cart into the room.

  Figs lets out a mighty meow.

  “Oh, my sweet boy,” I coo. I kneel and pull him out, giving him a cuddle.

  I glance at Hudson, and he’s staring at my cat as if I’m holding a tiger instead of a sixteen-pound tomcat.

  Chester laughs, finishes unloading the cart and then leaves without a word.

  Figs wiggles to get down and I set him on his feet. Immediately, he trots over to Hudson.

  My boss still looks completely freaked out which just makes me giggle. I’m pretty sure when Figs starts weaving in between his legs, Hudson stops breathing.

  “He likes you,” I say. “Figs is an excellent judge of character.”

  Those crazy blue eyes of his widen.

  “Pick him up, he wants some cuddles.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I nod to encourage him.

  When my giant of a boss squats and tentatively reaches out to scratch my boy’s head, Figs falls onto his back and gives Hudson a plea for a belly rub.

  “He really likes you,” I say. What I manage to keep inside of my mouth is that seeing my boys together spreads warmth through my entire body.

  That man does not belong to you, I remind myself.

  Hudson clears his throat and stands, stepping away from my cat. “You can stay here until the storm passes. I have to get back downstairs to help out.”

  “I can help too,” I say. “I just need to set up Figs’s litter box and water, and then I’ll come down.”

  “No!” he barks. “You stay here. I have enough to deal with without having to worry about keeping you safe.”

  His words are confusing, but I don’t want to further exacerbate him. I want him to consider me his go-to girl, his girl Friday, his right-hand err… girl. So I force myself to nod, and he turns and leaves.

  The sound of the door clicking into place reminds me to set up Figs’s stuff. I quickly get to work, finding Hudson’s home to be intuitive and warm.

  “What do you think, boy? It’s very nice here, isn’t it?” Figs blinks up at me. “I think so too.”

  Three hours later, Hudson still hasn’t reappeared. I’m bored, frustrated and frankly annoyed. He can’t refuse to let me work when I am in the main office of my employer. I don’t have a key and I didn’t catch the code he typed in at the front door. But, worst case scenario, I can find Chester and ask for help.

  Hudson is just being ridiculous. Maybe he thinks I’m too young. Maybe he is embarrassed that he’s a cosplayer. I don’t know what it is, but that man is so reluctant to let me do anything for him.

  I retrace the steps we took to get to his private suite. It’s a bit of a meandering path on obnoxious hotel carpet. Kinda reminds me of The Shining and I half expect to find the creepy twins when I turn the next corner. As long as it’s them and not that hella scary naked old lady behind the shower curtain.

  I make it to the lobby and am still amazed at the costumes these people have put together. This must be a special con for like the upper echelons of society who have piles of money they don’t know what to do with but are too scared to go to a regular con.

  There’s a snake-man, some sort of big blue guy, and ohhh, there’s a griffin. I’m on my way to compliment him because that costume is amazing—those wings!—when a thick tentacle of some kind bands around my waist. It tightens and panic squeezes at my throat.

  I try to look around to see what’s pinned me in place, but then something warm and sticky and wholly unpleasant hits me dead in the back. Something slimy and sticky spreads over my body. Like a lot of it.

  Remember in Ghostbusters—the original, please and thank you—when Bill Murray gets slimed? Yep, I’m thinking that it might have felt like this. Whatever it is, it’s covered me entirely. I try to raise my hands to wipe it off, but my hands don’t respond. What the hell? I try to struggle, but then I really can’t move and my breathing slows.

  Oh shit! What is happening?

  chapter

  ten

  Hudson

  “Hudson, you need to come over here,” Chester yells.

  “Give me a minute,” I say.

  “No. You’re gonna want to be here right the fuck now!”

  I turn to where he’s pointing and race in that direction because when Chester is serious, it means the situation is serious.

  What I see makes the old dead heart in my chest seize. There is some sort of creature—I don’t know what the fuck it is—that looks like a cross between a lizard and a caterpillar. Creepy. He’s got someone wrapped in a cocoon of sorts.

  Then I recognize the someone as I meet panicked brown eyes.

  “Put her down! We do not abduct unsuspecting humans!” That’s what I say because I’m used to being civil. What I want to do is squeeze his neck—necks?—until his head pops off. “Let her go,” I grit.

  “No,” he says in a clipped voice. “Mine.”

  “The fuck she is!” My fangs are tingling and the urge to bite, to maim, to kill surges through me.

  “Hudson,” Chester yells. He interjects himself in between us. “Slime monster. Evidently the oozy stuff is a type of paralytic. You need to take her to your suite and wash it all off of her. Right now. I’ll take care of bug boy.”

  His words penetrate my brain and enable me to calm down to some extent. It’s far more pressing for me to save Rosie than it is for me to kill this idiot. Thankfully one of the cool things I can do as a vampire is move super fast. I’ve grabbed her from his arms and am halfway out of the lobby before he realizes what has happened.

  “I’m so sorry, Rosebud, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m going to fix it, all of it. I promise.”

  She makes a noise like she’s trying to talk, but it just comes out a bit like she’s playing a kazoo.

  I race into my suite and into the bathroom where I deposit her in the bathtub. When I moved here, I added a state-of-the-art shower for myself that’s built for me to stand beneath it properly. Most showers I would have to bend myself nearly in half to get my hair wet. But this tub still has an attached shower head.