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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Vampire’s Pet

  Copyright ã 2005 amy o'connor

  ISBN: 1-55410-736-9

  Cover art and design by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

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  Vampire’s Pet

  Todd leaned his shoulders into the wall behind him and tried to ignore the crowd filling the hotel ballroom. He especially tried to ignore the admiring glances a handful of women insisted on shooting his way.

  Women? Nah, they were barracuda. It wasn’t all that unusual for him to be recognized, and he knew from experience that every single one of them was smiling so prettily at his wallet, not at him. They were imagining how they could go about convincing him to make themselves the next Mrs. Todd Martin.

  For what must have been the fiftieth time this morning, he wondered exactly why he was here. Or, more specifically, why he’d let his sister convince him to lend his support to her latest favorite charity. At the moment, she was engrossed with ‘Moonlight House’ and the women it supported.

  He closed his eyes wearily, hoping no one would notice in the dimly lit room. He’d never understood quite why Claudia got so amazingly involved with the human species. But, it had given her something to do through the centuries. She’d never succumbed to the ennui that caught them all eventually. He supposed it was kind of like the way some humans got so involved in looking after, say, wolves.

  Unfortunately, he knew from experience that Claudia wouldn’t give up when she wanted him to do something. And today, she’d informed him, was very important to her. It was the major fundraising event of the year for the women’s shelter.

  So he’d let her harass him into being here, check-book in his pocket. Anything for a quiet life, really. Besides, she was his sister. And even vampires had some sense of family connection. Off the top of his head, he couldn’t think of anyone else he’d have bothered getting up so damnably early for.

  He opened his eyes and blinked blearily at the stage. A blonde MC who looked suspiciously like an over-sized Barbie Doll had just started trilling into the microphone, prattling about all the wonderful people who’d donated their time to be here today.

  Huh! A charity auction. The perfect excuse to buy a bit more junk he didn’t need. What would it be this time? Autographed football sweaters? A bracelet once worn by some distant relation of the Kennedy’s? God only knew.

  He sighed, and settled more comfortably against the wall. It was likely to be a very long, and very boring, morning.

  * * * *

  “You will do this, Gwenny. It’s too late to pull out now.”

  The middle-aged woman pacing up and down in front of her paused to tweak Gwen’s fringe, before resuming her pacing. As soon as her back was turned, Gwen flicked the hair back behind her ear.

  “But Vera…”

  “Don’t ‘but Vera’ me, my girl.” The older woman spun on her heel and glared. “It may have worked when you were younger, but you’re twenty-eight years old now.”

  “But — “

  “No!” Vera was adamant. “You agreed to go in this auction. If you pull out now, how will it make my Dora look?”

  Very bad?

  It would serve Dora right, Gwen thought mutinously. Her perfect blonde cousin had never actually asked her if she wanted to participate, just signed her name on the application forms, then run and complained to mommy when Gwen had objected. Eventually, Gwen had given in and filled out the rest of the forms.

  Gwen grimaced at the memory. Dora had been so pleased with herself when she’d trapped Gwen into participating. Not, of course, that it was the first time her cousin had done something so malicious. From the minute Gwen had moved in with her aunt and cousins after her parent’s accident, Dora had done everything she could to make her life miserable. Twenty years later, Gwen should have had a lot of practice at coping with her spiteful cousin.

  Goodness only knew why, especially in a situation like today, but Gwen still tended to do whatever her Aunt Vera asked — in this case, help Dora with the service auction she was organizing. Inwardly, Gwen sighed. Vera was a nice enough woman, and she had taken in her orphaned niece all those years ago, but she still expected constant recognition of her magnanimity. Gwen may have moved out over six years ago, but Vera still wanted Gwen’s undying gratitude. It was awfully hard to say “no”. Vera would put this mournful expression on her face, and her eyes would radiate the deep hurt she felt at her niece’s lack of proper sensibility. It was usually easier just to give in and do whatever she wanted.

  “Just think,” her aunt wheedled, her voice rising as she tried to make herself heard over the droning MC. It sounded like this particular sale was drawing to a close. Her turn couldn’t be far away.

  “You might even find yourself an eligible man,” Vera continued.

  Oh great. This again…

  “And then, you can give up working in that nasty little shop and settle down like you should.”

  “I’m really not interested. And I like my shop.” Gwen tried to be patient.

  “Whatever.”

  Gwen knew her aunt wasn’t interested in her protests. So long as Gwen stood up on that stage and let herself be auctioned off to the highest bidder, Vera didn’t care.

  And she really, really didn’t want to get up on the stage. Compared to all the over-enhanced bimbettes she’d be competing against, well, she’d be lucky if someone even bid a dollar for her. She shuddered at the thought.

  This was going to be so embarrassing.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the MC. “And next up we have a pretty little pharmacist from down south…” Instead of her usual chirpiness, the MC had almost sneered at the word ‘pretty’. Just because Gwen didn’t spend half her life at the beauty salon, and hadn’t spent a fortune on plastic surgery, Dora’s friends liked to make her feel ugly. And they were all Dora’s friends here today.

  Even the MC’s probably a friend of Dora’s…

  Gwen squared her shoulders and let her aunt push her towards the steps to the stage. Here goes…

  Her strappy sandals clicked confidently up scuffed timber steps.

  Head up, shoulders back… Smile.

  She crossed the stage, the very image of confidence, a smile plastered immovably across her mouth. She’d keep smiling if it killed her. Finally, she was standing beside the MC who was still chatting away with the audience, and doing her very best to ignore her.

  Standing beside yet another plastic specimen, Gwen felt short. Very short. Even wearing her heels, the top of her head barely reached the MC’s shoulder.

  Find something to look at. Maybe there was someone in the audience who wasn’t firmly aligned with the beauty queens?

  Positive her smile was growing more brittle by the moment, Gwen stared out into the darkness. She was nearly blinded by the spotlight, but she persevered. There had to be someone out there who wasn’t wa
iting to see her passed in with no bid made.

  Or maybe not.

  Face after unfriendly face stared back, all of them watching her avidly, waiting to see her embarrassment. It was almost like Dora had set this whole event up in order to humiliate her. In her head, Gwen may have known that wasn’t the truth, but her heart was pounding now. The MC was nearly at the end of her standard spiel. Gwen was growing desperate.

  * * * *

  “The girl who organized most of the volunteers is an absolute bitch,” Claudia remarked conversationally as she appeared silently beside her brother.

  “Is she up for sale?” Todd didn’t really care, but it was sometimes fun to tease a human. Problem was, he usually felt guilty about it; the same way he’d feel guilty about teasing a puppy.

  Claudia snorted. “Dora? Not a chance! If she was bought, she might actually have to do something.”

  “Mmm. You could have told me it was a service auction.”

  Claudia grinned. “And risk having you refuse to come? You were just itching for an excuse to stay cooped up in your office for the day.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t need a plumber, or a dog-walker — “

  “Or a home cooked meal?”

  Todd mock shuddered at the idea. “Yugh.”

  “So who are you going to buy?”

  “Do I really have to buy someone? Can’t I just give the shelter a hefty donation?”

  Claudia poked him hard in the ribs. “For goodness sake! Get into the spirit of the thing. I simply do not know how you can be my brother when we have absolutely nothing in common.”

  “Perhaps Mother was confused?” he suggested slyly.

  “Ummm aaahhh. I’m telling on you.” Claudia could easily make him forget just how bored he was with the world.

  Todd laughed, a burst of cheerful noise in the otherwise silent room. “Oooh, and I’m so scared too.”

  “You should be.” Claudia pointed towards the stage. “The woman who’s up there now —” she glanced at her program, “Gwyneth Reilly — looks about ready to kill you.”

  * * * *

  How dare he? The rude, arrogant, son of a bitch!

  She may have been the only five-foot-nothing, freckle-faced, red-head amongst this Amazonian army, but no one else had the hide to laugh at her.

  Gwen narrowed her eyes, trying to focus on the cretin through the glare. It wasn’t like she wanted to be standing up here looking like the world’s greatest ninny. And when the MC had just said a weekend away with her was what the bidding was to be on… Well, she could have strangled her! Once Dora had forced her unwilling participation, Gwen had said she’d make a home-cooked meal. Apparently, bloody Dora had been interfering again.

  “Well, ladies and gentlemen?” the MC enquired, “What’s my opening bid on this fine specimen of womanhood? A whole weekend away. What a… gift.”

  Instantly, Gwen forgot about the man at the back of the crowd. She was starting to feel suspiciously like a cow going under the hammer at the stockyards. What would the damn woman say next?

  “Take your jacket off, darling. Let the folks see what a bargain they’ll be getting.”

  Gwen cringed, and shook her head slightly. The MC’s grin grew feral.

  “A whole weekend away, folks. Use her for whatever you want. Slave labor. Sex. Do I have an opening bid of… five dollars?”

  Five dollars? FIVE DOLLARS??? She was worth more than five dollars!

  It was a long moment before the MC’s words crept into her consciousness. Sex? Her stomach clenched.

  She straightened her back and looked down her nose at the stupid woman. There was absolutely no way in hell that anyone would be buying her for sex, and she was certain — absolutely positive — that everyone in the audience realized that.

  “One hundred dollars.”

  “One thousand.”

  “Fifteen hundred.”

  The bids were suddenly flying furiously, too fast for the MC to actually accept more than one in three.

  “Three thousand dollars.”

  Three thousand dollars? The highest bid on anyone to date had been just under one thousand…

  “Five thousand.”

  “Six.”

  Gwen felt faint. She wondered if the audience could see the way the color was rushing from her face and gathering… gathering in her groin? Blood was pounding through her veins, heating her body. All these men were willing to spend money to buy her body. It was almost flattering.

  It’s stress, that’s all it is.

  There was no way that calm, ordinary — plain — Gwyneth Reilly would be getting aroused by the idea that a strange man could make her his for a whole weekend. No. Definitely not.

  But…

  No!

  The voice of sanity was trying to gain the upper hand, trying to make her ignore the pleasurable swelling in her breasts and the way her nipples rubbed gently on her bra. She was standing on a stage, in front of a couple of hundred people, imagining being some guy’s sex toy for the weekend?

  And was totally fascinated by the way her body was reacting.

  “Seven thousand.”

  “My goodness, she’s popular,” the MC crooned into the microphone. “I’ve heard she does some very special stuff…”

  “Ten thousand.”

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  This was just plain ridiculous. How could the MC let it go this far?

  “Anyone into leather and whips?” the MC asked. “If you are, I think you’ll be quite pleased with Ms Reilly. She just loves to be disciplined.”

  Whips? Gwen didn’t just feel faint any more. She seriously considered collapsing in a heap. She wondered if that would be enough to stop this farcical auction? Of course, she could always just explain the mistake when she got off this damnable stage…

  Gwen glanced towards the steps, half wondering if she could just run away instead. It was the mention of whips that had done it. She was NOT into pain. She was a pharmacist for heaven’s sake. She relieved pain.

  Dora blocked her escape, a triumphant smirk marring her usually beautiful face. Behind her, she could see her Aunt Vera hovering. At least it seemed she wasn’t the only one who had a problem with how this auction was degenerating into some kind of sex-mart. Vera wasn’t cruel, she was just too dumb to realize her beloved daughter had done this to Gwen on purpose.

  She supposed she could just stalk off the stage — hopefully getting the chance to shove her revolting cousin down the steps on the way — but Dora knew Gwen wouldn’t create a public scene. That would be almost more embarrassing than standing up here on the stage. Thank God she’d set up her business in a town that was miles from here! None of her regulars were in the audience: a bunch of strangers she could handle.

  “Are you wondering just what she’s wearing under that terrible, conservative suit?” the MC asked the room.

  It wasn’t that terrible… Calf length, navy blue skirt, tailored jacket… It was practical and multi-purpose…

  The MC leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. “I’ve heard she likes leather underwear.”

  Leather underwear? Ugh. Where on earth was this woman getting her ideas?

  “The crotch-less sort,” the MC added nastily. “And I’ve heard she likes to play hard-to-get too.”

  She was definitely going to have some explaining to do when she got off this stage. There was no way she was going through with this. After all, she had been ambushed…

  Somewhat reluctantly, Gwen returned her attention to the audience, the same audience that had stared at her with such malevolence only minutes before. If anything, the female portion of the audience was becoming even more hostile, their whistles and vicious catcalls goading the MC to make even more outrageous claims about Gwen’s sexual prowess. More than one Botoxed forehead looked ready to burst into a seething mass of wrinkles under the pressure of its owners wrath.

  The men, however, were seeing her from a very different angle. Dozen
s of sets of male eyes stared hungrily up at the stage. Stared at her. One man licked his lips — slowly — his tongue wiping a slimy line around a too-thin mouth. His eyes leered. She was sure he was undressing her in his mind.

  An uncontrollable shudder coursed through her. Any thoughts of how erotic is was to be this desired, to feel so sexual, were instantly annihilated. That one man made her feel dirty. Despite the high price tag she was about to be sold for, he also made her feel very, very cheap. And, looking around, he wasn’t the only one.

  There was no way she’d be able to negotiate with someone like him. Someone who was so obviously thinking with his dick. Someone who honestly believed the catty MC’s wild statements. He’d surely believe she was acting if she said “no”.

  How the hell was she going to get herself out of this?

  * * * *

  If the organizer was a bitch, Todd had to wonder what that made the MC? The poor girl standing on the stage had been stunned when it’d been announced that the prize was a weekend away — with her. And it had just got worse from there. It was obvious to him she wasn’t a willing participant but, looking at the slathering idiots surrounding him, he was the only one who had more than two brain cells that were still functioning. The others had apparently had all their blood desert their brains in favor of their testicles.

  He shook his head slightly. No matter how many years he’d spent on the fringes of human society, he’d never understand them. How could they turn on one of their own like that?

  Ah, well. He could only suppose she’d volunteered to auction herself off. It wasn’t his problem if someone had changed the rules on her. She’d only get what she deserved for agreeing to participate in something this ridiculous in the first place.

  Todd’s check-book bumped against his leg as he shifted position. The crowd had slowly surged forwards, as unstoppable as an ocean tide, and he got his first really clear glimpse of the woman on the stage.

  She was terrified.

  He chewed gently on his lip, a bad habit he’d thought he’d cured himself of centuries ago. It was a bugger when he accidentally let his fangs pierce his own skin. It hurt like hell.