Fangs in Frosting Read Online Free PDF Page A

code. To what? I don’t know. I hustle to the kitchen. Having forgotten my code on previous occasions, I know I have mere minutes before the police arrive. I have to quickly retrieve my mother’s pan and leave.
    The wall is empty, the paint a shade cleaner where the muffin pan hung. It’s gone. I’m too late. I double up with grief and loss, holding my tummy, the mental blow on top of everything else I’ve experienced excruciating. My mother’s pan is gone. Some bastard stole it. I’ll suck his damn blood too.
    I look around the shop I’ve put my heart and soul into, memorizing every shelving-filled corner, and painstakingly planned inch. I can’t leave. I won’t leave.
    Then sirens wail, announcing the arrival of the police, and I realize this is a lie, because I love Viktor and life more than I love my shop. I run through the back door, barreling down the alley at a speed my built-for-TV-watching form has never before traveled at. I turn the corner, the heels of my practical pumps bending under the strain, and I face the blinding lights of a police cruiser. I meet the officer’s startled gaze as he slams on the brakes.
    This is exactly the situation Viktor warned me about, and I freeze, paralyzed by fear. Will the cop shoot me? Arrest me? Stake me?
    I’m plucked out of the alley, and a hand covers my mouth, stifling my screams. “Silence, child,” a deep voice murmurs in my ear.
    I don’t recognize the voice, but I don’t struggle because the officer has left his vehicle to investigate. I’m held against a hard, leather-clad body, while the young man searches the alley, a gun in his hand. He passes so close to us, I can hear the pounding of his heart, and the blood, the rich, gorgeous-smelling blood, rushing through his veins, but we remain undetected, and eventually the officer gives up, returning to his car to drive away.
    I relax. I’m safe. Sort of.
    The stranger’s hand drops to my shoulder, his arm remaining across my neck, restraining me. “Who is your maker, child?” His breath blows warm on my cheek.
    I don’t hear his heart beating, so I suspect he’s a vampire like me, except he has a few more skills. Okay, he has a lot more skills, but give me a break. I’ve only been a vampire for a couple of days. The skills will come, and then I’ll be a bad ass, especially when I master the bat shifting.
    “Child?” the vampire repeats.
    I stay silent because I don’t know this guy, and I can’t trust him not to tattle on me. Plus I don’t do what Viktor, the vampire I love, tells me to do, so I’m certainly not obeying a complete stranger’s commands.
    His chest pushes against my back as he sighs. “He must be powerful as I can’t read your thoughts.”
    Wait a minute! I frown. Can Viktor, that stinker, read my thoughts? If so, I’m in deep frosting as he’ll know exactly where I am.
    “I do know where you are.” The vampire himself steps out of the gloom. “Nico. Thank you for taking care of her for me.” Viktor looks extremely pissed off, his face even grimmer and paler than usual. His lips are drawn back, revealing razor sharp fangs, and claws are extended from his fingers.
    The vampire behind me stiffens, all his muscles tensing. “I never thought I’d live long enough to meet a child of yours, Viktor.”
    “Continue to touch her, and you won’t live to tell about it,” Viktor threatens, his gaze fixed pointedly on Nico’s arm. I shiver at the darkness in his tone.
    I’m released, and Viktor pulls me behind him, placing his big body protectively between me and the other vampire. He’s ready for a fight.
    Nico’s chuckle holds no levity. “Not a child then, a beloved, and you should thank me.”
    I peek around Viktor’s body. The vampire, Nico, is tall and lean, with hair as white as his skin. A deep scar slices his otherwise perfect face in two. He’s a nasty piece of work, yet this tough man is wary of Viktor. I gaze at my lover with new respect.
    “Your beloved was