Wanted: Vampire - Free Blood

By Lisa Rayns

Three years ago, death blew out the candle in Alexis Hall’s life and left her devastated. Nothing could replace what she’d lost, not even the sexy stranger she awoke married to. Still, she finds it hard to ignore the dangerous sparks he triggers within her. She knows Bradley Cox took advantage of her. What she doesn’t know is he holds a secret that will change everything.

But Bradley isn’t her only concern. In a moment of desperation to somehow reclaim what she'd lost, Alexis made an offer to a vampire––free blood. Her blood.

In a story of heartbreak and obsession, a simple ad changed Alexis' life forever and on one fateful night her dreams and her nightmares will collide. Can she trust Bradley? Or is he her worst mistake? Can she retract her offer to the vampire? Or will she fall under his deceptive spell?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Rayns
• Release date: Oct 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311030214

Lisa Rayns

Lisa Rayns, author of the Wanted: Vampire Trilogy, lives in a small town in South Dakota. She studied Composition/Literature in college and worked with explosives and as a blackjack dealer before beginning her writing career. An avid reader, she weaves romantic stories rich with action, suspense, and her own personal flavor of the paranormal. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and Siamese cat. For more information about Lisa and her books, visit her website at www.lisarayns.com.

Book preview

She always thought Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata had an eerie quality, especially now, played in the darkness of her basement apartment. The night wind outside blew violently, causing windows to shake and doors to creak, as if nature was giving an answer to the sonata or perhaps simply playing along. She lay in bed listening to the wind, the windows, the doors and the sonata, ultimately giving in to the sensation of music. It wasn’t until the metallic scent of blood joined the mix that she sat up.

Forming from darkness and shadow, he appeared before her, a vision of beauty in the moonlight which streamed in from the window. With deep black hair and a flowing cape that fluttered in some unfelt breeze, she knew he was not of this world. That, she welcomed. The man gazed down at her as if searching for fear in her eyes or a reactive scream. But there was nothing, no movement until he bared his fangs and started moving closer to her. When she did no more than lift her chin in submission, he kissed her lips sensually before taking what she offered—her neck, her blood, her life. And then her soul rose into the stars to the one who waited for her, the one that needed her.

Disappointment washed over her when the sonata stopped playing, and she once again awoke to another overcast August day in Medford, Oregon. Tears blurred her vision in the morning light. She always cried at the end. Without wiping the tears, she rolled over and lit the thin, white candle on her bed stand to watch it burn.

Alexis Hall really wanted to be happy, and sometimes she wished she could relight her life as easily as she did the candle every morning. Once that light was gone, the devastation hung on day after day making even the simplest things impossible. Shopping was a nightmare, and all it took was a crying baby or a picture of an angel on some tissue packaging to make her break down.

She absolutely wanted to die, but she would never kill herself, and that was a solid line that she would never cross. She couldn’t take the chance of ending up in Hell because she wanted to be reunited with her light after her death. Last Sunday’s sermon was about just that, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the minister had read her mind beforehand. She smiled and shook his hand after church every week, all the while pretending that a part of her wasn’t really missing and gone forever.

When the wick burned down an inch, Alexis blew out the candle and rose to leave. She dressed in black jeans and a black sweater, scarcely realizing how her wardrobe had gradually changed to shades of gray and black along with her darkening view of the world. She spent the next hour in her coupe, driving in silence toward her hometown with no intention of visiting her parents. Even though she made the trip at least twice a week, whenever she needed a little extra push to get by, she was still too ashamed to face them.

Sitting by the grave in Klamath Falls was the only place on earth she found peace and a sense of connection with the part of herself that she’d lost. The little cemetery on the edge of town was enclosed by tall, billowing trees that provided her solitude, yet she felt less alone there than anywhere. The oaks blocked out the early morning sunrise, leaving a slight mist to hover in the air around her. She smiled as the scents of dew and earth kissed her face.

I love you, and I miss you, she whispered, rubbing her fingers atop the green blades of damp grass. She repeated the phrase often, but she never said any more than that. She’d tried once when she first visited, but there was no way to say how sorry she was for what happened or how she would have gladly died in her place.

Birds were singing a melodious, cheerful tune when she sighed and kissed the cool granite tombstone before forcing herself back to the reality of her life.

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A couple of drinks is all it will take, Alexis reminded herself for the millionth time before she stepped inside The Cave. Decorated in retro black and red, the large nightclub looked to be a hundred years old, like it might collapse on top of her at any moment.

Could she be that lucky?

Eighties rock music played from a jukebox near the dance floor. It was loud but not deafening. The air inside smelled of stale smoke and alcohol, but the place was acceptable, and best of all, it wasn’t crowded.

She rubbed her arms when a chilling breeze bit into her skin, then clutched her spine like the jaws of death. Even so, she found the icy air to be the propelling push she needed to continue inside. She crossed the blood red carpeting to the table nearest the rear exit, finding the temperature notably warmer on the far side of the bar. Once seated, she let out a relieved breath and tried to concentrate on what had brought her here—Tara.

Tara was always there for her, playing the considerate, sympathetic, and concerned best friend, so when she demanded that Alexis let her throw a birthday party for her, she couldn’t say no. The two had grown up together on the same street, attended the same school, and had pretty much done everything together. Even when Alexis broke up with Daniel and decided to move to Medford because she had to get out of that town, Tara simply packed up all her things, quit her job, and even broke up with her boyfriend to leave with Alexis the following week. The upcoming party was the only compensation Tara had ever asked for.

Alexis was a day early, but she had the whole night free to get comfortable and build up the nerve she would need to show up. Normally, a party would only terrify her, but a party being specifically for her made it even worse. Her shrink had called it Social Anxiety Disorder, and from the information she’d read about it, alcohol was supposed to reduce the symptoms.

When the waitress arrived, Alexis put on her best fake smile that always came in so handy at work. I’d like a drink please, she said loud enough to be heard over the music.

Sure, honey. What kind? The older woman’s long, platinum blonde hair sported bones woven into random small braids. Her bright red T-shirt read: Brooke, Cave Girl.

Oh, it doesn’t matter as long as it doesn’t taste too horrible.

Long day? Brooke asked, appearing sympathetic instead of irritated.

Alexis quickly imagined what she must look like to the stranger. Dressed in black, from her jeans to her loose knit sweater, the image had to be depressing. Not to mention that her long, curly red hair was barely combed and she wore no makeup at all. She sighed inwardly but forced another smile. No… what do you mean?

Nothing. Brooke chuckled and leaned a thin hip against the table. It’s just something I do. I’m trying to figure you out. I mean, I’ve seen people who’ve had bad days, but I don’t think I’ve seen anyone who looked like they needed a drink worse than you.

Alexis used to be good with people, and even now one on one she was normally fine, but the happy, laughing people filing in the door made her feel out of place, like she’d shown up at a wedding dressed for a funeral. She smiled uneasily without making eye contact. I do. Thanks.

It’s all right, honey. I won’t ask no more questions. It’s just that some people want to talk, you know? Now, let’s see if we can fix this drink situation. Tapping a black fingernail against her chin, Brooke stood back to examine her. You look like a vodka girl. I’ll bring you something you’ll love, I promise.

Thank you, Alexis said, grateful for the waitress’ intuition and her swift exit.

The place was bigger than she’d expected, but she’d never really been one to hang out in bars. One time after a big fight with Daniel, Tara had dragged her out on the town insisting she should, search the sea before giving up your soul to the Devlin! Alexis had gotten so drunk that she’d been sick for a week, but still she smirked at the memory of Tara’s long standing contempt for her ex. Daniel Devlin was one old memory she didn’t care to linger on. He’d done enough damage, and she couldn’t help but hate him for all eternity.

Alexis downed drink after drink in an attempt to wash away her thoughts and keep up with the waitress at the same time, but just as she finished one orange cocktail, another arrived. The veteran waitress kept her glass filled with the efficiency and skill of a marine. When her stomach started to retaliate, Alexis slowed down, reveling in the warmth the alcohol infused into her body. She tapped her foot to the loud music, stared at the gold flecks in the table, and dabbed at her drink with the tiny straw. She thought she was getting comfortable until she looked up and met the gaze of a twenty-something good-looking man.

Gaze hell, he was staring right at her!

Standing there with a pool stick in hand like an ad she’d seen on a billboard somewhere, he was the perfect example of why the classic jeans and white T-shirt look had always been her favorite. The jeans were tight in all the right places, and the shirt stretched across a broad, muscular chest. His smile alone stirred long dead feelings that made heat rise within her body, then made her face flush until she remembered who she was.

When he finally turned away, called back to his shot at the game, Alexis let out a relieved breath. She glanced over her shoulder to find the beautiful blonde he’d really been looking at, but the empty tables behind her initiated an alarm. Could he actually have been staring at her? To be sure, she peeked his way again and found him slumped over the pool table in a compromising position that displayed his perfect backside. She looked away––a few times––before she became content that he’d returned to his game and forgotten all about her.

She refocused on her drink and was trying to relax when the sharp sound of a woman’s laughter pierced her eardrums and reverberated through her, making her shudder. The sudden shriek made her jerk around, and then her anxiety returned with a thud when she knocked her glass off the table and people started to notice her. The attention made her queasy enough to finally sigh and accept her defeat. She didn’t belong there. She didn’t belong anywhere, and no amount of alcohol would change that. Instinctually, she formulated a plan to make a quick, unnoticed exit. She was just about to initiate when the unthinkable happened…

Mind if I sit down? the pool player asked with a friendly smile.

Alexis frowned at him, trying not to notice how his slight five o’clock shadow enhanced his already rugged appearance. Or how his short black hair laid perfectly around his face, framing his striking blue eyes. His interruption was both unwanted and unwelcome, but the quickening of her heart as he stood beside her left her speechless. Not trusting her voice, she shifted uncomfortably before shaking her head.

He said nothing when he sat down in the seat across from her, but his eyes hovered over her with a look of wonderment that she couldn’t understand. She wanted to be left alone, to blend in, not to be a one night stand for some handsome stranger who felt sorry for her because she was alone. He had the wrong girl.

Under his intense stare, her body turned as cold as a winter rain, causing an allergic reaction to grow from her rapidly beating heart. The pulsing worked to double her irritation, pushing it to subzero temperatures. Daring to stare him directly in the eyes, she calmly stated, Listen, if this is a sympathy call because I’m sitting alone, don’t waste your time.

Trust me, it’s not, he asserted with a voice that was both smooth and invitingly serene. He never took his eyes off her as he sat back and sipped his beer, his stare piercing through her like he was sizing her up in his own silent appraisal.

After a minute, her last shred of carefully constructed patience ran out. Why do you keep staring at me? she demanded.

The shock was easily recognizable around his eyes, and Alexis felt a little satisfaction at being able to get the reaction. Her triumph was short lived however.

Recovering quickly, he simply responded, Because you’re beautiful. He held out his right hand to her. Bradley.

She took his hand but found herself recoiling from the human contact.

Did he just say beautiful?

The look of panic from him shook her for a second before he spoke with what appeared to be genuine concern. Are you all right?

I’m fine, she shot out automatically. It was her standard response for the question, but the sincerity on his face surprised her. Suddenly she felt stupid for jerking her hand away and even more stupid for being such a bitch to him. More than that, she was regretting the entire night out. What made her think she could warm up for a party anyway? It seemed so ridiculous now. Dismayed by her own behavior, she rose to leave. I’m sorry for being so rude. I really have to go.

Wait. Jumping up, he caught her hand in his as she turned. Dance with me first?

She froze when she felt the warmth of his hand. Looking into his sparkling, blue eyes, she immediately wondered why he was trying so hard. She’d already made it clear that she wasn’t going to be the easiest woman for him to get into his bed tonight. In truth, she hadn’t even been cordial. What could he possibly want from her?

She couldn’t deny that his persistence had spiked her interest, but even as the curiosity trickled through her veins, she knew she wasn’t ready for this. A dance would mean touching, closeness, something she’d probably look like a fool doing since a mere handshake had almost sent her running out the door. When she tried to decline his offer though, her hand didn’t pull away from his like she meant it to. No… no, I couldn’t. I haven’t danced with anyone since high school.

You need some practice then, he maintained, urging her out onto the moderately crowded dance floor.

Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton played on the jukebox as he pulled her close to him. Pressed against his muscular chest, Alexis tried to compose herself. He held her tight, as if he feared she might flee, but when she pulled away from him slightly, she was comforted that he let her. She looked up at him, at his squared jawline, his five o’clock shadow. He smelled like Heaven… or sweet cologne. Either way, she found herself fighting the urge to peel off his shirt to keep for those long, lonely nights at home.

Irritated by her own weakness, she eyed him skeptically. Why are you doing this?

Innocent eyes twinkled from that gorgeous face as he leaned in closer like he was giving her question full merit. Doing what?

Staring at me, calling me beautiful, dancing with me. Did I miss anything?

"You are beautiful, and I wanted to."

She shot him a classic doubtful look, her eyes narrowing. Seriously, what’s driving you?

He considered her question for a moment before a smile formed. Fate, probably.

I don’t think that’s funny, she retorted, scowling at him. Pity was one thing, but joking about things like fate and destiny was downright cruel.

It wasn’t meant to be.

Yeah, right. On a scale from one to ten, you’re an eleven, and I’m like a five. It doesn’t add up. What’s really going on? Did Tara put you up to this?

An eleven, huh? His sly hands eased forward and wrapped around her waist.

She repelled his attempt to pull her closer, making it clear that her admission was a statement only and not an invitation. When his hands return to her hips, she tried to ignore the calming effect of his expression. I’m serious, if this is some kind of setup, it’s not funny. Did she put you up to this?

Are you this paranoid with all men? Or is it just me having this effect on you?

She rolled her eyes, but she knew he was probably right. A man gives her a little attention, and she jumps down his throat asking him who put him up to it. Maybe she should have kept seeing that shrink. What was she doing at a bar anyway? And why was his charm voiding her anger as fast as she grasped it? I… I just wanted the truth.

His expression turned serious when he stared into her eyes and his fingers grazed her chin. I swear it’s the truth.

The honesty in his blue eyes made the muscles in her chest constrict around her ribs. What the hell is wrong with you, Alexis? Could you push him away any harder? She felt stupid again, but this time it hit harder than before. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be allowed out in public! I’m sorry. I should go, she said, trying to pull out of his grasp.

Bradley locked his arms around her, his words quick and distressed. If I told you your friend put me up to it, would you stay and dance with me?

Her brow rose. Did she?

Glancing around the room, he seemed to be gathering his resolve until she resigned to continue dancing. Finally, when the next song started to play, he looked straight into her eyes and replied, No, she didn’t, and I would never agree to something like that. But now answer my question. How can such a beautiful woman come here alone and not expect to gain the attention of every man in the bar?

Stop calling me that. She sighed and cast a downward glance.

His brow furrowed. Stop calling you what?

Beautiful, she said with an edge of disgust. Look, I didn’t come here to be hit on or to pick anyone up. I just get nervous around a lot of people, and I was trying to get comfortable before tomorrow night.

What’s tomorrow night?

That friend I mentioned is throwing a party here.

So you came to get a feel for the place?

She nodded, looking over his shoulder. The feel of his eyes on her made her uncomfortably aware of herself and how out of place she was––out in the city, dancing, and held onto almost desperately by a strange, handsome man. She was certain if it hadn’t been for the alcohol keeping her anxiety in check, she would have run away screaming minutes ago.

That’s lucky for me. He unlocked his arms only to return them to her hips.

She secretly gauged how long it would take her to make it to the exit if she made a break for it. Why’s that?

Because I wouldn’t have been here tomorrow night.

She bravely met his eyes. With the initial shock of his attention out of the way, she felt secure enough to let her real feelings show through—or maybe it was the alcohol. Let me guess, you will be now? I’ve actually had get a stalker on my list of things to do for quite some time. Thanks for finally taking the bait.

My pleasure, he responded, demonstrating his amusement with a low chuckle.

Disheartened by his lack of offense, she looked away, pretending to be caught up in the music. She wasn’t sure what the hell his game was or how she fit into it, but he seemed insistent on making her play along. Couldn’t he see his charm and smiles were wasted on her?

What’s the party for?

Just a party, she said offhandedly, trying to avoid further eye contact by ogling a gorgeous man at the bar. A light above him illuminated his strong figure and long dark hair like a shroud. He seemed to be looking their direction. Something in her wanted to go and talk to him, but she filed the urge under alcoholic illusion and pushed it aside. He was much too beautiful. Then again, so was the man she was dancing with.

You never told me your name, Bradley said.

Alexis, she responded, reluctantly returning her attention to him.

Alexis what?

Hall.

He leaned in close so that his cheek touched hers and lingered there as he spoke. Alexis is a beautiful name, and it suits you. Charming and complicated and strong. He drew out his words, making them last longer than necessary.

She closed her eyes to enjoy his warmth. Thanks, she replied absently, not even remembering why she thought she should say it. As the song neared the end, she dismissed her body’s betrayal and refocused on the door.

When she started to pull away, Bradley again caught her hand and held it firmly. Alexis… I need to ask you something before you leave.

The gentle pleading in his voice stilled her impatience for the moment. His eyes were glued to hers. His hand was crushing her fingers, not crushing in a painful way, she realized, but it was as if he were pleading with the hangman. He seemed to implode while she waited for him to continue. Could his question really be that bad?

I’m sorry. It’s an odd question, and I don’t want to—

Ask it quickly, she snapped, thinking she would choke on her irritation before he finally spit out his question. Holding her captive on the dance floor wasn’t getting either of them anywhere. She kept her voice as straightforward as her remark when she continued, I’ll answer, and honestly, I wish you would have just asked it in the first place instead of staring at me like it would crawl out of my skin.

Bradley loosened his grip on her hand and took a small step back. The edges of his mouth turned up, and his eyes glistened in the dim light. Alexis Hall, will you marry me?

Alexis stared at him, politely considering his serious face. It took a full minute for her giggles to escalate into full blown laughter. She’d been thrown off her guard, and it felt good. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed. You’re more of a freak than me. Thanks. I do feel better. She relaxed in his arms immediately, finding comfort in some shared irrational realm. So how many girls do you normally propose to a night?

Bradley smiled, appearing self-assured. I’ve never proposed to a woman or a girl before in my life. This was kind of a romantic way to do it though, don’t you think?

Truly charming. She giggled and leaned into his chest, letting her arms wrap around his neck. He felt good, even if he was as crazy as she was.

Should we fly to Las Vegas tonight or would you prefer a traditional wedding?

Vegas is fine, she teased, enjoying the game. She’d never met another crazy person before, and she was certain that if she had, they wouldn’t have looked as good as he did. At the moment, he seemed like her dream come true.

How about a kiss to seal the deal then?

Alexis pulled away from him, feigning shock. You want me to give away the milk?

Of course not, he assured her. Just a kiss.

She kissed his cheek in concession.

That’s good enough for me, he said, smiling like a cat that’d just eaten the canary. I have to go make some calls, but promise you’ll wait for me.

When she nodded, he opened his phone and walked out the door.

Brooke brought