Fireworks for July: A Holiday Bites Vampire Paranormal Holiday Romances

C
opyright 2015 by Michele Bardsley
.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the copyright holder.

Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement from the author of this work.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatever to anyone bearing the same name or names. Characters are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

Please note:
This story is super hot and contains a sexy vampire looking for forever love. Recommended for readers 18+.

“
M
iss Ellsworth
?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Daria with the Dark Treasure publicity department. I’m calling you with the final details of your prize-winning trip to Las Vegas.”

July Ellsworth grinned. Winning the contest had been a great surprise. It had been a whim, throwing her card into a fish bowl with a thousand other cards. The hostess at the restaurant had encouraged her, her smile bright as she said, “It’s the trip of a lifetime.” Funny. That was the first time she’d ever gone into that restaurant, and the impulse had paid off big-time.

She was going to Las Vegas!

“Your flight leaves on Friday afternoon. You’ll arrive in the city at seven-oh-three. Your return flight is Monday evening at five-fifty-four. Your hotel is Dark Treasure.”

Daria had called a week ago to inform July that she’d won the contest. She explained that Dark Treasure was a unique experience in Las Vegas—and was extremely difficult to book. In fact, if they hadn’t sponsored the contest she’d won, there’d be no chance at all she’d be staying there. Not only was it exclusive, it was expensive. Far outside the range of a lowly librarian’s salary.

Squee!
She couldn’t wait to drench herself in the Vegas experience—she was going to the spa, to the tables, and to Fremont Street. From its photos and descriptions, Dark Treasure had a sparkling ambience that bespoke of indulgence and luxury. For once in her life, she was going to be naughty. She was going to take risks. She was going to indulge every whim.

“Remember, all your expenses, including meals, are part of your package. Everything you need is in the welcome packet you’ve already received. Do you have any questions?”

“No,” said July. “I’ve read it all. The instructions are very clear.”

“Excellent. If you need anything, anything at all, you have my direct number.”

“Thank you.” She hung up the phone and did a little jig. “Woo-hoo!”

Wouldn’t Aunt Grace freak out if she saw me acting like this?
July danced through the living room and flung herself on the couch. Last week, when Daria from Dark Treasure called the first time, she hadn’t recognized the tinny sound of a ringing phone. No one had called her great aunt’s landline phone since … well, ever. She sat in the sparsely decorated room and stared at the stately bookshelves that lined every wall. Aunt Grace had never owned a television or a game system. She believed that TVs and anything related to them were useless.
Never waste time on frivolity, July. Your mind is an elegant, precise machine that you must keep tuned and well oiled.

Her parents passed away when she was ten years old. They had been free spirits—especially her mother, who had, after all, named her July. The only family July had was her deceased grandmother’s younger sister Grace. Aunt Grace, a staid, proper, and strait-laced spinster, had unexpectedly inherited pre-teen July. While the older woman had taken care of July’s basic needs and ensured she received the best education, she was never July’s mother. She encouraged July to excel academically, but she didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to offer comfort, love, or affection.

Her aunt reserved the bulk of her love for historical medieval research. She worshipped at its altar every hour of every day. And because she’d given her life to the perfection of her books and papers and lectures… she had nothing else in her life.

Nothing but her work.

Well, I’m not her.

July was a geek. But because of Great Aunt Grace, she was a rich geek.

“
I
sn’t that Dark Treasure
?” July asked the cab driver as they shot down the Strip, past the luxury casino-hotel. She looked out the back window and watched its bright, welcoming sign fade in the distance.

“Oh, you was going to Dark Treasure?” The cabbie looked in his rearview mirror and caught her gaze. He had dirty blonde hair tucked up into a baseball cap, which was pulled low over his brow. The look in his mud-brown eyes did not reassure her. His greasy skin was a shade too yellow, and he was the kind of thin that suggested starvation or drug use. July pressed a hand to her roiling belly. He smelled like burnt onions.

The vibes she was getting off this guy were all bad. “Turn around, please.”

“Sure, sure.” He made a left turn into an alley and stopped. “Just gotta back up.”

He made no effort to put the car into reverse. The engine idled, the headlights casting yellows spots on graffitied walls and overstuffed Dumpsters.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, her voice quivering. “Turn around now!”

He laughed.

Heart pounding, she grabbed the handle to the door and yanked, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You’re a sweet morsel,” he said. His smile revealed gaps in his stained teeth. Something animalistic flashed in his eyes. “He’s gonna like you.”

“H-he?”

Movement on the left side of the alley caught her eye. A shadowy figure drifted toward the car. July yanked on the handle again and pounded on the window. “Help! Someone help me!”

To her shock, the shadow dissolved into black mist that hissed through the cracked window and into the back seat. Within seconds a man sat beside her. He was dressed in a business suit, though that was the only normal thing about him. His shaggy hair was black, a bleak contrast to his ghostly paleness. His eyes were red. He opened his mouth and revealed a set of nasty, sharp fangs.

July screamed.

* * *

Carter Mattison rounded the corner into the alleyway and stopped. He stared at the parked cab. He heard a scream, confirming the two passengers were not playing backseat bingo. This was Vegas, a nice, fat feeding ground for paranormals—especially vampires. Scooter. The conscienceless prick always pulled this crap. The woman screamed again, and Carter flinched. The dolly had a nice set of lungs on her.

Being a vampire had its advantages. Carter jumped into the air, arced over the cab and landed on the hood. The metal caved in with a thump-crunch. He heard Scooter swear as he flung open the door. The cabbie got one foot out. Carter punched through the glass and grabbed his T-shirt, yanking him through the shattered windshield.

The rogue vampire in the backseat turned into mist and streamed away. Didn’t matter. He would be found and dealt with. The woman was slumped over. He smelled the sharp tang of her blood, but her heartbeat was strong. She’d only fainted.

“Scooter,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m disappointed.”

“I didn’t do nothing!” The whites of his eyes showed, and from the smell, he’d pissed himself, too. Carter sighed. That happened a lot. Man or beast, fear often made their bladders go.

“We had a conversation about your aberrant behavior. You made a promise. If any vampires paid you to bring them dinner, you were supposed to tell me.”

“I was gonna call you,” whined Scooter.

Probably after the little jerk-off had relieved the witless victim of all her credits and anything of value he could pawn. She wouldn’t have been killed. The local vampires reacted swiftly and decisively against paranormal murderers of tourists. Robbing them of possessions could be forgiven; robbing them of life was an unpardonable offense.

The unofficial rule was not to prey on tourists, after all the humans were the bread-and-butter of this city. But vampires weren’t Boy Scouts and neither was he.

“I was gonna tell you, Carter!” Scooter went limp in the vampire’s grasp. “I swear!”

“You’re a liar. And you can’t be trusted.” Carter grabbed Scooter by the chin and dug his nails into the man’s cheeks. Blood dripped from the tiny wounds.

“C’mon, man. Gimme another chance.”

“I’m sorry, Scooter,” said Carter. “I’m turning you over to Chance.”

The horror on Scooter’s face was warranted. Carter had learned many excruciating, not to mention slow, ways to take lives. He rarely employed any of those techniques. Chance on the other hand was well known for his brutal creativity.

Carter knew too well Chance’s proclivities. After all, the bastard had made him into a vampire. It took Carter ten minutes to get Scooter into the boss’s hands and back to the cab. He didn’t feel too sorry for the cabbie since the man was willing to sell an innocent woman to a rogue vamp.

Carter opened the back door.

The girl lay on her side, silky brown curls tumbling over alabaster cheeks. She wore a black pantsuit that clung to her ample curves. She was pretty. And her scent was intoxicating.
Innocent.
He nearly swallowed his tongue. Innocents were few and far between in Las Vegas. He hadn’t had the pleasure of a virgin’s blood in a couple decades.

He vamped out, and it took him a minute to get his fangs and cravings under control. If the human woke up and saw him, she’d probably faint again. He examined her luscious mouth. Her bee-stung lips offered a bounty he wanted to partake.

No need to flip, Carter. Chill, man. Chill

Carter picked up her purse and opened it. Inside, a folded itinerary listed her hotel as Dark Treasure. Well, well, well. Wasn’t that nice? His second job in this town was as a bartender at that casino-hotel—one of three that Chance owned in Vegas.

His gaze raked over the woman’s curvaceous form, and he licked his lips. There she was, a delicious buffet. Oh, how he wanted her. With an ache he hadn’t felt since—well, since he died in 1956. He needed to wipe her memory and get her to her hotel.

Man oh man, she was tempting.

Too tempting. And the last time he’d been this drawn to a woman, he’d lost his life and his freedom.