Between a Vamp and a Hard Place Read Online Free PDF Page B

sink even deeper into my neck, felt his tongue flick against my skin. And even though I was horrified, I was also . . . aroused.
    He sucked at my throat, and I felt blood trickle against the collar of my shirt. His tongue flicked against my skin again, and he continued to drink, even as I struggled against him. My fingers curled into fists and I beat against his chest, but he grabbed my wrists in his hand and pinned them easily, and then I was helpless to fight.
    The world faded, and the last thing I remembered was his murmur of soft words against my throat. Oddly enough, it felt as if he was telling me it was going to be all right.
    Which was a joke, of course. This was not all right. Not in the slightest.
    But then I passed out, and I no longer cared.
    *  *  *
    â€œSvegliati!” A cold hand tapped my cheek.
    An ache rolled through my body. I felt utterly trampled. My neck felt hot, too. What the . . . ? I opened my eyes, surprised at how heavy my eyelids felt. Something had knocked me on my ass—
    A pair of familiar blue eyes met my gaze. Then I remembered. The man in the coffin that I thought was pranking me. His bite. Me passing out.
    Vampire!
    Oh God! I scrambled backward, shying away.
    He continued to crouch on his feet, eyeing me as if I’d been a curious bug. Then he said something to me in Italian. Wait, he was speaking Italian now? I’d have mockingly assumed he was an actor at the sound of that, except the bite had been real and the fact that I was feeling so weak at the moment told me he’d sucked a lot more than he should have.
    He spoke to me again, waiting, and his mouth flattened.
    That sent a quiver of fear through my body. “I don’t speak Italian.”
    The man cocked his head. He said something else and indicated I should continue speaking.
    â€œUm, I don’t know what to say to a vampire,” I said slowly, backing up a little more. Damn these crates. I eyed the staircase—so near and yet so far away. “Other than it’s a pretty terrible thing to grab a girl and use her as your own personal drinking fountain without asking permission first. And that I’m now regretting opening the coffin. A lot .”
    He blinked his eyes several times. Then he spoke. “Zzzshou open zzzhe coffin?” His accent was thick, but the words were understandable.
    â€œYes, that was me.” I watched him warily.
    â€œYou pull out zzee stahhhke?”
    â€œYou speak English?” I stared at him, uncomprehending.
    â€œI am learning,” he said slowly. “It is entering my head.”
    Huh? “What do you mean?”
    â€œThe Dragon knows English, thus I learn it,” he said.
    Yeah, I had no idea what that meant. “Well, that’s great,” I said brightly, getting to my feet. “But I’ll be going now—”
    â€œStay,” he commanded.
    I gave a muffled peep and dropped back to the floor, my head spinning.
    â€œWhere am I?” He gestured at the floor. “This place.” His words were becoming clearer, but his accent was still thick, and unlike one I’d ever heard before. “I am not familiar with it. It is . . . a castle? No? Dungeon?”
    â€œIt’s a secret room. Kind of like a hidden basement.” I probably wasn’t explaining it very well, but I wasn’t totally together.
    â€œA basement . . . that is a room below?” He rubbed his chin, thinking. “Why?”
    â€œWhy what?” I said defensively. I shivered from the cold in the room, and my head was still spinning from loss of blood. “Why there’s a room down here? It looks like they stored stuff.”
    â€œNo. Why . . . me? Why am I down here? In this box?”
    â€œThat’s a coffin, and I’m the wrong person to ask,” I said nervously. “I didn’t put you down here.” I really, really hoped he believed that, because