Bite Me: Alexandra Van Helsing, #1

By Clair Gardenwell

She's got fangs and she knows how to use them.

 

Alexandra Van Helsing wasn't expecting to walk in to work one day and see her boss laid out across the shop's counter like a prime selection of freshly dripping dinner, or for her dying boss to shove a magical ring in her hands with one order. Don't let Laos have it. When the murdering vampire takes her by surprise and steals a long sip of her own blood, Alex wakes up in the offices of FBUST confused, sore, and instantly attracted to the handsome vampire who saved her life. 

 

Now it's a race against time as the vampire who's determined to get the ring back threatens her at every turn while Charles Le Roux, the lead hunter for the Federal Bureau of Unwanted Supernatural Threats, threatens to steal her heart. What's a girl to do besides besides bite back?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clair Gardenwell
• Release date: Jun 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393687207

Clair Gardenwell

Hi! I'm Clair and thanks for reading my work! I'm a total book nerd and awkward introvert. My favorite things are fairy tales, suspenseful fantasy, steamy slow burn romances, and fluffy dogs and cats. If you would like to keep up to date on all my newest works, please don't hesitate to sign up for the email newsletter. I hope to see you again soon! 

Book preview

1

Something firm and slightly moist nudged my thigh.

No, I groaned, pulling the blankets up higher beneath my chin.

A whimper so pitiful that it nearly broke my heart came as the warm object continued to affectionately nuzzle my thigh.

Alright, fine. I threw the blankets back and swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet barely missing connecting with Django’s black and rust colored narrow head. She leaped back out of the way as I lurched to my bare feet, her lips curled up in a wide excited Dobie smile as she wriggled with excitement around my legs like a canine version of a slinky. By the time I had stumbled into the kitchen and flipped the latch, she bumped the door free from my hands and surged out into the green expanse of our narrow backyard, a sinuous flash of silky raven fur and rust colored patches over well-formed muscles as she lunged in pursuit of her grey fluffy tailed prey. The daily morning squirrel that always appeared at the first sign of dawn each morning that then proceeded to taunt my darling girl’s endless patience to the very limit. As this was one of those mornings where she was up for the chase, I slightly envied her boundless enthusiasm for the morning sunrise and retreated back into the safety of my darkened kitchen for that first cup of life giving brew.

Coffee, with just the tiniest smidge of blood added in was the breakfast of choice for me. My own special recipe you see because I’m a vampire, but not just any vampire. My name is Alexandra Van Helsing. Yes, one of those Van Helsings that so fatefully hunted vampires throughout the world for so long. Except there is one teeny tiny thing they forgot to leave out of the family history, one branch of the Van Helsing family married into a branch of the vampires they were supposed to hunt, thus creating a new line of almost invincible vampire hunters with the same strengths and weaknesses of the creatures they hunted, including the thirst for blood.

So, I was just a little more than your average working gal that spends her life managing a keepsake shop named Every Little Thing from 9 to 5 every day. It wasn’t perfect, mainly a job that I managed to wrangle from one of my Granny’s poker buddies, but it was a living that kept Django in as many squeaky toys as she desired. So, it was a win-win for most situations since I lost my job a couple months ago, along with my apartment till I moved in here with Granny as her ‘caretaker’ in her cozy little two bedroom cottage. In actuality, there couldn’t have been an eighty year old woman that needed someone less, but that’s what it was.

While Django was busy dealing out her morning reign of terror on the fluffy tailed bandit that regularly made off with any flowers I dared to sit outside, I jumped in the shower and tried to mold myself into somewhat of a reasonably human looking person, slapping up my shoulder length buttery blonde hair into a ponytail, and smeared on a little makeup to disguise the dark violet circles under my faded greyish-blue eyes and the slight reddish cast to my cheeks. Even though every member of my family on my dad’s side inherited the vampirism starting on their 21st birthday, it didn’t mean it was an instant fix to whatever problems you already had. For instance, if you were not born a model with legs long enough to fit a giraffe, a perfect complexion, and the slender figure to match. Then you stayed 5’2", curvy to the point of having to wear a size sixteen from an addiction to anything food related, with a constantly flaring case of rosacea that left your freakishly pale skin stained a permanent bloody red, and a permanent thirst for blood as a souvenir for the rest of your unnatural life.

Yeah, Hollywood has greatly exaggerated the vampire lifestyle. That’s for sure.

Alex! A screechy voice came from upstairs.

What, Granny? I snapped back, trying to avoid pouring the liquid black lava mixture that served as my life’s blood these days over my hand as it flowed into my stainless steel traveler’s mug. Django, her long pink tongue dangling from her open jaws and her velvety floppy ears slicked back to the sides of her head, came trotting in to see what all the commotion was about.

Don’t forget to take Isabelle the pound cake I made for her! God knows she needs it after that horrible breakup she had with that scum-sucking Ledbetter! Thanks to the esteemed privilege that came with having vampire sensitive hearing, the last few words she tacked on to refer to the Ledbetter subject came through loud and clear in every obscene syllable. It was a good thing that Granny came from my mother’s side of the family, because I don’t think the world was ready for Shelby Jean Johnson as a vampire.

Got it! Placing the coffee pot back in the holder, I snapped on the lid to my mug, tucked it under my arm, and pulled open the fridge to see the perfectly wrapped square package sitting neatly on the top shelf. Django loyally followed at my heels, her nails click-clicking against the floor, as I carefully balanced the cake, the mug, and snatched my purse from the hook by the door all while bumping the door open with my hip and making my way to my car. Thankfully it was overcast today and I could forgo the wide brimmed floppy hat and crinkly jacket that normally shielded my sensitive skin from the blistering sun above.

Just an FYI, that part about a vampire bursting into flames in the sun was false too. We just get blisters. Many, many blisters that itch worse than a case of chiggers on full munch mode.

With just two fingers, I was able to unlatch the passenger door of my trusty little blue station wagon, placed the precious cargo in the back seat, and was nearly ran over by Django as she leaped into her normal position as my co-pilot. Shutting the door, I hustled around to my own respective side before buckling up and zooming off for our next destination.

If you were not on your way through the glorious morning traffic of Atlanta, Georgia by 5:30, say goodbye to any hope that you had of making it to your job by 9 o’clock. Normally Atlanta was considered one of the capitals of the south, there was just one thing that most people didn’t realize. We had more supernatural citizens than you could shake a stick at, and some might even try to steal that stick.

Spending the next two hours in the sprawling bumper to bumper traffic spread that leads all the way into downtown, it gave me a little time to think about the state of the world these days. The constant political chatter on the radio is venomous to say the very least, and the state of the other drivers are not much better. Why, I’ve seen more than a few people nearly crash just because one cut the other’s nose off and the cuttee decided to return the favor and become the cutter. It really makes you wonder how some people got their driver’s license in the first place. The one thing that always makes it worse is road rage, so I always try to stay calm and controlled no matter what goes on in front of me.

MOVE IT OR LOSE IT, ASSHOLE! I snarled as I smashed down on my horn at the barely puttering sedan in direct danger of becoming my new hood ornament.

Did I mention I have a little problem with my temper? Mainly being that it’s very short? Just thought you should know.

Exactly as on schedule, the red and white striped awning proclaiming the interior to be called Every Little Thing, a keepsake store in the vein of Hallmark Stores, loomed ahead in my sights as I puttered to a stop in my curbside park reserved just for me. My copilot had disregarded her station in favor of huddling in the security of the backseat, her chocolatey brown eyes peering up at me with a blatant glance of contempt. She never has been a big fan of the morning traffic rush.

Baby girl, you think you can stay here and guard Mrs. Tisdale’s cake for me while I go roll her out of her Sleep Number?

She huffed, her lips puffing out with the pulse of air that came whistling through her teeth. Her blocky head continued to rest on her front paws, floppy ears perked and waiting for me to go on and do my duty and get the shop open for business before she would deem it worthy of her queenly presence.

So that I did, rummaging through my purse while I walked up to the door in search of the keys I needed for the door. Of course they had to be at the very bottom, the shiny silver toned metal nearly untouchable beneath the mass of melted peppermints that had somehow accumulated when I wasn’t looking. I really had to clean out my purse sometime soon.

I fumbled with the lock for a minute before jamming the key into the slot and twisting, the interior as dark and welcoming as always except for one little thing.

Something smelled delicious. And I wasn’t talking about a gourmet breakfast either.

No, it was that deliciously salty, iron tinged scent that had my gums itching to let my lethally sharp canines down for a quick little sip. Somebody was bleeding, and lots of it.

I inched inside, my eyes cautiously flickering from side to side as I quickly took stock of my surroundings. The shop appeared to be order as normal, the shelves of greeting cards ran parallel along the window decorated with the shop’s name in scrolling golden letters. Plushies and decorated pillows were all stationed in the center isles, providing a cushioned front for the sparkling glass cases of fragile porcelain figurines. Off to the left of the cases was our licensed character shop, today’s selection mostly being the pink pig and the blue donkey that was all the rage with the kids these days. Finally, at the back wall and illuminated by the recessed lighting in the ceiling was the desk and the cash register draped in a long bubblegum pink and lime green hibiscus flower cloth. One that was also stained a deep scarlet red that dripped down onto the floor below.

Lying artfully over the counter like some exotic tropical arrangement, deep crimson blood dripping from the edges of her smile wrinkled lips and from the large gash that still had teeth marks embedded deep into her saggy, wrinkled neck. A small rattled breath sent a tiny gush of streaming down from the rip in her neck, staining the neckline of her dress an ugly rust color. Two glassy eyes peered out at me from behind the shattered frames of her bifocals, fingers slightly wriggling to beckon me forward despite her obviously fatal injury.

Danger rang bells in my head, warning me that my boss was lying just shortly away and that she was currently bleeding to death, but I couldn’t make myself move. My legs were frozen to the floor, completely motionless while hunger thick and sharp rolled in my insides. It just smelled so good, reawaking the urge to rip and tear and drink my fill. My fingers curled into claws, my purse dropping to the floor while the sharpened digits clenched tight onto the fabric of my jeans. I tried to take slow, steady breaths, trying to clear the scent of blood from my nose while my eyes closed and tried to focus on anything but the itching of my now fully sharpened fangs.

Alex, She hissed, her voice bubbling with blood that continued to overflow from her lips.

My eyes snapped open, quickly dropping down to the floor to try and hide the vampire ruby red irises that I’m sure had appeared. I shuffled forward, my steps clumsy as a drunk’s till I was close enough to extend a shaky hand to press against the wound in her neck, maybe there was still hope I could stanch the flow of blood and save her. Her tattered flesh squished beneath my fingers, feeling more like a piece of mutilated steak more than the proper skin and muscle I knew should have been there.

Don’t worry about me. I won’t be long, She wheezed, one of those glassy eyes rolling up to focus on my face. Her heart was beating shakily, but still going for the moment. Take this and hide. Don’t let Laos have it!

With that said, she pushed something cold and round into my hand, a ring of tarnished gold with a large square sapphire in the center. The midnight blue stone looked at least five carats and the gem must have been real because even in the low light of the shop, the stone twinkled and shimmered like blue fire. While I was looking at the stone, Mrs. Tisdale had drifted off into her death, her limbs now limp as a wand watery eyes now glassy with the frost of death. She was truly gone.

I shrugged away from the dead woman, holding the ring tightly to my chest like it was the most precious object in the world. I should have called an ambulance, or the police or something. Wait, I could still do that.

I dived down to the floor and pulled my purse open, rummaging around for the slender silver case of my phone. The ring fell from my fingers into the bottomless depths of my tote bag as I did. Finally, my fingers brushed the hard edge of my phone. I pulled it out, unused loose tissues falling to the floor with the motion and dialed nine-one-one. My finger had just pressed that very last digit when I heard a click, one very familiar sound since I flipped that lock every night before I went home. I spun around, tendrils of my hair sliding out from the hastily formed ponytail I’d shoved it in earlier to slap against my cheeks as I spun. The door I had left open was now firmly closed and locked. Every situation of every horror movie I’ve ever seen flashed through my head, usually the parts where I yelled at the dumb blonde who was so stupid as to walk right into the serial killer’s house, and now I was that dumb blond who had walked right into a trap.

Give me the ring! A voice thick and raspy hissed from, a bulky shadow emerging from the darkened shelves between the Precious Moments figurines and the Paris themed throw pillows. A man, his black leather trench coat soaked in red blood was only made creepier by the waxy white skin, blood dripping from his lips and elongated canine teeth, and most of all was the ruby glow to his eyes. A vampire. The phone fell from my hand, the shatter of its glass screen against the floor was louder than the hissing rasp of his breath as I drew back my lips and bared my own fangs.

Who in the hell are you? I hissed, letting the full effect of my sharpened fangs and glowing ruby eyes blaze forth.

Give me the ring or you’ll end up like the other bitch! He loomed closer.

Normally I had no problem with dispatching the odd freak that attempted to threaten me, but I could also recognize when the odds were against me in a fight. The vampire was twice my size, plus he was hyped up on fresh blood, an added bonus that enhanced the strength and skills of any vampire. So that would make quite a bit of difference as well. I could call for Django with her lethal attack training for a surprise assault, but she would have to bust through the glass of my car and the glass windows of the shop first before she could ever reach here. I raked my eyes over the interior as I eased back towards the counter, the mental layout of the store flashing through my thoughts as I searched for any and all possibilities for escape. I had become very well acquainted with the shop’s layout since I started working here, that’s why I let out a little whimper as he continued backing me up, there was no way I could escape. Whoever he was, he was going to kill me. Vampire or not, it would still only take one good punch through the chest to rip out my heart, and based on the expression of his face, he was more than willing to provide that blow

Give it to me! He screamed again, lunging across the counter and over the body just as I skittered behind a display of mood lighting lava lamps.

I don’t have it! I lied. Despite whether or not this was the Laos character or not. Mrs. Tisdale and asked me to keep the ring safe, and I didn’t want to keep taking my eyes off the crazy man for than a second.

You lie! I can smell it on you! One second I was sliding along the shelves, the next I was pressed face first against the back wall with a thick hand pinned against my neck. I hissed and clawed at his arms, drawing long bloody scratches down his forearms but he just pressed harder against my neck till black spots floated in my vision and a quick weakness settled deep into the muscles of my arms. He looked at me eye to eye, the ruby spread of his iris so dark that I couldn’t even see the pupil and I watched his nostrils flare through the darkening haze. You smell... different.

Of course I smelled different! I was only partially vampire and partially human!

He lowered his head to my neck and I felt his