So I'm Not a Vampire?

Hey Everyone,

So this is the completely edited version of

So, I'm Not a Vampire?

Thank you searchingforperfection for helping me edit the entire

So I'm Not a Vampire?

novellette. Thank you to my beta tester, Fanfare, for reading the entire Peaches series. Without you, I wouldn't have been able to work out those rough edges in the story. Thanks :)

Side note: all future stories I post on Lit are stories that will not be published. If you have questions, concerns, or just want to say hi, feel free to message me.

-Rosi

***

Chapter Seven: Men, Servants, and Kings

I loved shopping. It was my favorite pastime next to eating, watching TV, and bathing. Bathing might sound weird, but there was nothing like buying bath salts, slipping into a warm tub, and relaxing after a long day. Still, shopping trumped it only because I was spending Bane's money. And,

oh,

did I spend it.

"I don't understand why you needed all that crap," Bane growled as he veered in and out of traffic, knuckles white around the steering wheel.

His little sports car was filled to the brim with shopping bags: in the trunk, the back seat, my lap. I can shop with the best of them.

I shrugged. "You said you were buying."

"Not the whole store." Bane shot me a dirty look, and I had a mini heart attack when he took his eyes off the road. The guy was still a speed demon, and we were weaving in and out of the nation's capital like we were in a Neal Moritz movie. I worried for a second, then realization dawned: duh, I'm dead.

"I didn't hurt your finances, did I?" I'd automatically thought he was wealthy. Too many movies, I know, but he'd also never corrected me.

Bane relaxed and smirked. "You didn't hurt my bank account, don't worry. Just my sanity, a bit."

Now that, I could believe. We'd left at eleven in the morning, shopped until five, had dinner, and were now headed back to the hotel to get ready for the party. Bane had snacked on one of the ladies helping me pick out clothes, and then a man who had helped me select jewelry. His eyes didn't even have a hint of red in them now, and they were slightly darker than brown, almost black.

We'd gone to one of my favorite shops, Torrid. It was a plus-sized store for women who liked a more risqué look. Almost everything was low cut and skintight, great for the type of party Bane told me we'd be going to. I'd been convinced I needed a Vera Wang ball gown, but he'd told me it really wasn't that type of party. Apparently vampires hid in plain sight, or as close to it as possible.

We were going to a goth party at a club known for its vamp wannabes and emo teens. Black was the color of the night, skintight and low cut the style. Torrid had been perfect, and the store hadn't failed to deliver.

Stuffed into one of the many bags was a red satin bustier with a black flower trim, a black leather mini skirt, and a pair of three-inch black fuck-me pumps with silver spikes on the back. I paired the outfit with diamond studs, a ruby drop necklace on a silver chain, and a matching ruby and diamond bracelet. I looked hot, sluty, and wealthy, all a plus for me.

"Can you stop thinking about material possessions for one minute?"

I looked at Bane out of the corner of my eye as he drove over the bridge to our hotel. "Not my fault you don't like what's in my head. It's

my

head."

He growled, actually growled like a wild animal. "Tonight is important. There are a few things you need to know."

I waved my hand. "Don't cut myself, don't trip, don't offer anyone my blood, yada, yada, yada."

"This is important, Peaches." His tone was serious, and it startled me a little. I sat up straighter and listened. "Vampires are territorial. If a vampire brings anyone other than a vampire to a party, they have to either be their spouse or their servants. There are no exceptions."

My words were tight. "So, I'm your servant?"

We pulled in front of the hotel and Bane turned to me. "Unless you want to be my

wife

."

I was about to respond when my door was opened by the valet and he helped me out. With the help of a bellhop, Bane and I got all of my new stuff—including luggage—to the room. When our suite door closed, I picked up the conversation right where we had left it off.

"No, I can ... tolerate being your servant." I couldn't, but if I thought it enough on the way to the party, the lie might suddenly become true. I immediately headed into my room, rifled through the bags, and dumped a few out on the bed. Gift boxes and clothes tumbled out and I found my outfit. I hollered to let Bane know I was hopping in the shower, then rolled my eyes at that. He was a vampire who could read my mind, move with lightning fast speed, and had super hearing. He'd probably known before I did that I needed a shower.

I hopped in, thankful that I'd been able to get color-safe shampoo. My red was already coming out and I could see my roots. It wasn't a good sign, considering I'd only had the color for two weeks. Still, red washed out fast, and I knew I'd need to get it dyed again. Thank goodness Bane was rich, or marginally rich at least, since my hair cost a fortune.

It was half an hour of scrubbing all the spots I'd missed, or been too tired to get in the morning; then I was out, wrapped in a soft, fluffy bath towel and drying my hair. I wiped the mirror to get a look at my hair. It was looking a lot better, except my roots looked light, and sort of purple-ish. I chalked it up to the shampoo, then moussed and gelled my hair.

I exited the bathroom. Steam flowed out behind me, and for a second I felt like Angelina Jolie in every shower scene she'd ever done. I stopped dead when I saw Bane a few feet in front of me, arms crossed, legs wide, with a scowl on his face. It wasn't the look or even seeing him in my room; it was his outfit. Gone were the jeans and t-shirt. They had been replaced by leather pants so tight I wondered how Bane's trouser snake wasn't suffocating, a black mesh top, kick ass and silver-toed boots.

The man might as well have been naked for all his clothes did for him. I could see his muscles through the top and pants, smooth, sinful, sexy dark skin. I wanted to trace my tongue over all of his muscles, over every bulging vein. I could practically taste him on my tongue.

"Done eye-fucking me?"

I snapped my attention back to his face and clutched my towel closer to me. No way was I about to lie and say I wasn't; he could read my mind anyway. "You shouldn't have worn that outfit if you didn't want to be eye-fucked." I tried to sound flippant, but it might have come out a touch breathless.

Bane smiled, and his tongue snaked out to wet his lower lip. "Never said I didn't."

I tried to remember I was just nearing the forty-eight hour mark, and how that was still not enough time to know someone before screwing their brains out. The only thing that kept me from dropping my towel and jumping him was the thought of the vampire party. I really wanted to go.

"Do you mind getting out?" I nodded at the door. "I need to change, put on my makeup, and curl my hair."

The man stomped over to me, picked me up, and carried me to the bed like a sack of flour. Using his vamp speed, he curled my hair, fixed my makeup, and slapped my jewelry on. It was less than five minutes later when he took a step back, eyed his creation, and nodded.

My mouth was open, and I was looking at him through eyelashes heavy with mascara. I probably looked all sultry and heavy-lidded with a "come hither" expression, but I was just trying to see through the damn things. I turned to the open bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Oh my God, I looked hot, like supermodel-on-the-runway, professional-makeup type hot! My cheeks looked rose petal pink, my lips were fire truck red and glossy, and my hair looked like a wild tumble of curls. I looked like I'd just gotten out of bed after having a sex-a-thon. It was a look I'd always tried to go for, but never exactly succeeded in creating.

I looked back to Bane, eyes as wide as they could go. "Seriously? How do you know how to do that?"

He gave me a funny look, then reached for my heels, kneeled, and started to close the three straps of the heel around each of my ankles. "What are kings before they are kings?"

A riddle? I looked at Bane's lowered head as he put my shoes on. It was a weird gesture, but he was also a vampire and Egyptian. "Princes?"

"Before even that." His voice was soft, far away, and finally contained that note of ancientness that I'd always expected from a vampire.

I thought about it. I mean, really tried for this one. "Babies?" I cringed, feeling like that was the wrong answer.

He looked up at me, and I saw a completely unguarded look in his eyes. I saw power, ancient and massive. I saw dynasties built and destroyed. I saw everything romance novels and TV shows said would be in a vampire's eyes. The whole span of human emotions, placed beneath a microscope and blown up until every joy and pain I'd ever suffered in life paled to what I saw in his eyes. Apparently, during those five seconds of gazing into Bane's brown eyes, I became a poet.

His lips quirked like he was trying to suppress a smile. "Men,

habibi

." The words were heavily accented, and I didn't realize until that moment he'd been speaking with a totally East Coast American accent. "Before kings are kings, they are men, warriors, servants."

I reached out, needing to touch Bane and make sure he was real. "Which one were you?"

The smirk spread into a full-blown smile. "A smart man does not choose one, Peaches. I am

all

."

That American accent was back, and his eyes weren't speaking to me anymore. There had been a lot of stuff in those few words, a lot of mystery and intrigue I knew I'd have to unpack later.

He left, and I reached behind me, rifling through my new purchases for a bra and panty set. I zipped up my bustier, pulled on my skirt, and walked out of the bedroom feeling de-

licious

. We were soon out the door and in that red hot car that went perfectly with my outfit. I had a stupid grin on my face because I had just discovered something better than bathing, TV, and chocolate combined: figuring out Bane.