The Murder King’s Woman
Murder Tales, Book 1
In print part of the The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance 2 anthology/collection.
This exciting follow-up to the wildly successful Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance contains 30 short stories of hot blood, midnight pleasures, and inhuman passions. Containing the best names in the field, such as Eileen Wilks, Caitlin Kittredge, Jennifer Ashley, Dawn Cook, and Diane Whiteside, this compilation is sure to arouse attention.
With THE MURDER KING’S WOMAN, paranormal romance author Jamie Leigh Hansen brings you an exciting new series of short stories featuring Mary, the only human ever saved and raised by the Murder, vampires and werewolves who work together to police the rogues of their world. But now, the Murder King, Sebastian, who once saved Mary, needs her to save him…
Read an Excerpt
“99 veins of blood to tap,
99 veins of bloood…
Pick the best flavor and drain it dry.
There’ll be 98 veins of blood to try.”
Sasha sashayed her curvy human body across the busy foyer of the San Francisco Vamp Palace, her booted steps in sync with the rousing chorus of vamps in the next room and her jaunty nurse’s cap bobbing with the tune. Grasping hold of the song, she continued the refrain silently as she pushed the empty black wheelchair through the crowd of costumed, but deadly, vampires.
Her nurse’s top was white and cut low to the thick, black belt on her waist. A bright red wonder bra pushed everything she had out and up in a bountiful display. The skirt stretched high on her thighs, leaving a few inches of skin bare to the tops of her thigh-high black boots.
She appeared the epitome of a nurse/whore, her make-up vivid and glossy as she pushed the wheelchair with latex-gloved hands to the elevator behind the grand staircase. A Bela Lugosi look-alike cast lascivious glances all down her body as a Queen Elizabeth smiled at her with condescending indulgence. Contrary to modern myth, vampires loved Halloween. It was the one night a year they could let their fangs hang out. Though, tonight their fangs were a bit sharper than usual.
Smiling vacuously, her mind only shielded with the most basic of barriers expected from an average mortal like her, Sasha continued to sing silently. 98 veins of blood to tap…
Sasha entered the elevator, pushed the button for the fourth floor, and gripped the wheelchair handles tight. She smiled, wide and excited for any who glanced her way. 95 veins of blood to tap…
The elevator doors slid open to a long, dark wood hallway with doors on either side. Some were open, some weren’t. At one, a beautiful ice blonde in a dress Cinderella would envy smiled teasingly at a dashing, kilted Scotsman. Her voice was a smooth purr. “You can look under mine if you let me look under yours.”
He chuckled, his voice low as he leaned forward and twisted the doorknob behind her. “Only look?”
Sasha’s smile came easier as she passed them, the chair rolling quietly along the deep red carpet. 89 veins of blood to tap, 89 veins of bloood…
Toward the end, between two closed doors where the wall should be a smooth mural, she deftly swiped a card through the nearly hidden slot. The hallway was silent for the moment, but the pounding of a human heart carried easily through the walls into the many bedrooms. She only had seconds before someone would come to see why hers pounded.
Adding more joy to the refrain in her head, she slipped into the secret hallway with its walls thick enough to hide almost anything thought or spoken and pushed the chair down the narrow tunnel. Halting outside the guard room, she parked the chair and stepped into the opening, leaning against the door frame in a seductive pose.
There was only one guard, sitting with his feet propped up and staring at the monitors morosely. He glanced back at her then did a swift double take, nearly falling from his chair. Sasha grinned wickedly. “I heard you were hungry.”
As he stood, the light hit his name tag. Stan. Stan took his time, gazing from the pulse in her neck, down her exposed cleavage and lower to the inches of thigh exposed between her skirt and boots. In less than a blink, he stood before her, taller, faster, stronger.
Stan wrapped his large hands around her sides and grinned with anticipation.
Pick the best flavor and drain it dry.
Stan groaned, “Oh, yeah.”
There was a reason the little ditty was popular among vampires. Stan leaned forward and licked a trail from the curve of one breast to her neck, meaning to tease her.
Instead, Sasha held him as he slid silently to the floor. Any of her personal taste he’d managed to pick up would be disguised by the knock-out gel she’d smeared all over her skin. It left a brutal aftertaste.
From one of the large front pockets on her smock, Sasha pulled a flash drive and plugged it into the tower. Three key strokes and enter executed the desired file. The monitors and hard drive were recording an old episode of Buffy before she left the room.
85 veins of blood to tap…
85 veins of blood…
Only intense practice kept her focused as Sasha pushed the chair into the next room and saw the once healthy and robust vampire lying there. The bed holding him was more like an incubator, enclosed with glass and shining bright UV heat lamps directly on his skin. He wouldn’t burst into flames from this false sun, but he was burned a deep red from head to toe. Tainted blood flowed into his right IV while the blood he’d filtered through his ancient system flowed from his left thigh, to be used in other ways later.
A small, horrified moan passed her lips and she stiffened. If she broke her mental block now, she’d never have the calm concentration to get it back.
83 veins of blood to tap…
Her movements trained to smooth efficiency, deep breaths keeping her heartbeat slow and regular despite the strain everywhere else, Sasha set the brakes on the wheelchair and opened the “legs” to give her room to seat him. Then she opened the lid and removed the tainted IVs from his emaciated arms.
From the backpack hanging on the back of the wheelchair, she pulled a bundle of clothes and a bag of fresh blood. She attached a new IV and the bag of fresh blood to begin feeding him immediately. Pulling him up, she managed to snap a hospital gown and belt a large, fluffy bathrobe around him. He wasn’t his regular weight, though still tall and bulky, or she couldn’t have maneuvered him so easily. By now his eyes were blinking and he tried to steady himself so he wouldn’t hamper her more. His minimal balance helped when it was time to swing him into the chair.
Gently, Sasha placed the bag of blood in the robe pocket hidden at his shoulder. Slippers and a thin cashmere blanket covered his skin from the toes up. She tucked him in with the legs of the wheelchair so nothing trailed to catch in the wheels. The sleeves of the robe hid his hands. Moving even more quickly now, Sasha powdered his face from a ghastly grey-ish red to a sickly white-yellow, turned his blue eyes brown with contacts and wrapped a scarf around his neck. Almost done. A yellow hospital mask, a dark brown curly wig to hide his straight black hair, a cap to hold it on and he was ready.