Blood Candy Read online

  BLOOD CANDY

  a novel

  by

  Matthew Tomasetti

  &

  Brian Casimiro

  Copyright © 2011 Matthew Tomasetti and Brian Casimiro

  Smashwords Edition

  Cover Art by Rodolfo Reyes

  http://rodolforever.deviantart.com

  All rights reserved.

  THE FANGS DEEP SERIES

  Blood Candy

  Blood Slave

  Blood Dreams

  This is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the authors.

  No part of this book may be transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the authors, except for the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Table of Contents

  One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four

  Blood Slave: Chapter One

  Chapter One

  Candy Shuler fidgeted with her little red dress to make sure it adequately revealed the proper amount of cleavage. Should everything go according to plan, the doorman inside the bar wouldn’t scrutinize her fake ID if he was too busy concentrating on her proportions instead. She had already struck out with the gatekeepers of alcoholic misadventures twice tonight, and she was determined to make the third time a charm.

  The doorman eyed her as soon as she walked in through the door. His arms bulged against a shirt that was far too small on him, showing off all of his proportions. Judging by the unwavering expression on his face, he wasn’t the type to be taken for a fool. Candy decided to put faith in the blue-eyed appeal men couldn’t resist and stepped up to the gatekeeper.

  “Identification,” he said in a somber voice.

  Candy made sure to squeeze her goods together when she leaned down to dig around in her handbag. One of the doorman’s brows perked up and when he took her ID he barely glanced at it. That was good, because she only marginally resembled the woman in the photograph.

  The gatekeeper gave Candy a pleasant smile and indicated with a nod of his head for her to go on in. Easy as pie, she thought to herself. Now to find an easy target with an open wallet. It was already one in the morning and the night wasn’t getting any younger.

  It didn’t take long to see the place was nearly dead, which meant she might end up spending more of her own money than she’d like. There were only two people sitting at the bar, one of them a middle aged man with a short growth of graying beard hunched over a pint. Since Candy smelled him halfway across the room, she decided to try her luck with option number two instead. He was one of those guys who thought he was a badass biker. He was also old enough to be her father, but she had stooped as low to get free drinks before. Most “bikers” were posers anyway, even the older ones.

  Candy plopped her handbag on the counter next to him and then tossed her blonde hair to grab his attention. When he turned his beady eyes to her, she got a good look at all of the atrocious gear he was wearing; a typical jacket covered in patches along with frayed jeans tucked into leather boots. He was even wearing a blue dew rag. What a tool.

  “Slow night,” she said. “I like your jacket.”

  The biker grinned, revealing a gum line devoid of far too many teeth. The lack of incisors combined with his crooked nose suggested he had been on the losing end of a few fights. He called for the bartender to bring another round of beer. Apparently, he didn’t care for small talk or introductions.

  “What’s your name?” Candy asked him.

  The toothless man took a swig of beer and then said in a rusty voice, “Stanley.”

  “That’s my cousin’s name. He has a Yamaha.”

  The biker’s expression went lifeless. Candy wasn’t sure why, but when the bartender set two beers on the counter, Stanley snagged them both with one hand and then walked away. She was left wondering why she bothered in the first place.

  “Let the fun begin,” she sighed. “Stupid hicks.”

  The best way Candy had found to celebrate freedom after four long years of oppressive private school was in a state of inebriated bliss. This also had the wonderful side effect of making home life more sufferable. In small-town Massachusetts, that meant a night out trying to sneak into an establishment that carded up front. So far tonight, nothing was panning out.

  Candy never thought she’d end up missing school this much. Not that school had been difficult for the girl with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smoking hot body. Those attributes alone guaranteed her scholarly success. All it took was some well placed flirting, while female teachers were easily endeared with the Catholic good-girl image she had been raised to uphold.

  For girls like Candy, school had always been something tolerated more than enjoyed. But she missed her friends. She missed the cute guys who had all of their teeth. Most of all, she missed the time away from her mother who lived out here in the middle of nowhere.

  The bartender put another pint in front of the guy at the other end of the bar and then headed her way. “Can I get you something?” he asked her.

  Candy glanced at the man with the scruffy beard at the opposite end of the bar. The smell more than the sight of him was enough to have her call it a night. “Surprise me,” she told the bartender. “Make whatever it is a double.”

  The bartender went to work on her drink. He was fairly cute, but bartenders were in the business of making tips and Candy found them extremely resilient to advances that would lead to free drinks. She was considering the possibilities when someone took the seat next to her and spoke in a grating British accent that had her cringing.

  “Can I buy you a drink, love?”

  When Candy turned, she had to do a double take. At first she glimpsed one of the biggest dorks she had ever seen wearing a white silk shirt straight out of the ancient and best forgotten era of the seventies, buttoned only halfway up to reveal a chest nearly as white. And then upon second glance, she saw the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on. The warning centers in her brain cautioned that only date rapists dress this badly, but the synapses fired off uselessly, leaving her unable to see anything beyond his charming smile.

  “What’s your name, love?” he asked her. “I’m Rupert.”

  For some inexplicable reason, Candy found his goofy accent fascinating. She had the urge to laugh at him, at least in her mind, but she couldn’t say anything at all. When he smiled, a flash of exhilaration jumbled her thoughts.

  “Candy,” she managed to whisper.

  “Delightful,” he said with a wink. “I like to put candy in my mouth.”

  Candy flushed, throwing common sense and conventional wisdom at such a terrible line right out the window. She hardly noticed the drink the bartender put in front of her. Rupert, with his perfectly mussed brown hair was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. He slid the drink closer. Candy fumbled for it, not wanting to take her eyes away from him. Then she downed it in a few throat-burning gulps. Rupert called for another.

  “Come here often?” he said. The cadence of his terrible accent was simultaneously arousing and repulsive.

  “Sometimes,” Candy answered.

  “I’m certain I’d remember an angel like you. Why don’t I take you back to Heaven after we finish here?”

  Somewhere within the cobwebs of her mind, her subconscious laughed at one of the worst lines it had ever heard. She found herself saying, “That would be awesome.”

>   Out of nowhere, the stale smell of body odor made Candy reel. The older man from the other end of the bar stood behind Rupert with an ill-favored look about him. He smelled so badly, she had to physically cover her mouth and nose to keep from retching.

  “I think you should find another mark,” the hobo said. “This one’s a little young.”

  Rupert only afforded the stranger a slight glance. “Piss off, wanker.”

  “Can’t do that.” The older man turned grim and weathered eyes to Candy. “Let me get you a cab, young lady. You don’t belong here.”

  Candy glanced at the smelly man, and then to the hand Rupert had extended out for her. When she took Rupert’s hand, the hobo growled and moved as if he meant to split them apart.

  “Leave us alone,” Candy told him. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “You heard the lady,” Rupert said. “Piss off before I put my foot up your arse.”

  Rupert led her outside, even though her mind was screaming at her to stay in the bar. With his thick arms crossed over his chest, the doorman didn’t seem to notice their passing. Candy sort of wished he had. Didn’t he care that she was leaving with this loser?

  Once they were outside, Candy had the freedom to let go of her nose and allow the fresh summer air to wash away the hobo’s scent. It also had her wondering why she was out there in the first place. A glance at Rupert reminded her.

  “What a smelly old freak,” she said.

  “Never mind him. Lot of riff-raff hereabouts,” Rupert said.

  He led her across the parking lot towards a stand of trees where it was quieter, and also where the glow from a single streetlight didn’t penetrate into the dark brush. He glanced over his shoulder before stepping down into the grass. Candy was in heels, and aside from instincts telling her not to go down there, she couldn’t have managed the slight incline on her own. Rupert helped her along, intent with taking her on a stroll that way.

  “My car is over there,” Candy felt obliged to say.

  Rupert either didn’t hear what she said or didn’t care. He led her further into the trees. Candy didn’t really mind now that she thought about it. With both of her hands in his, she became vaguely aware of how odd his skin felt, as if he had been out in the cold too long; and how smooth, as if he had never put in a single day of labor in his life. It felt nice, a peculiar contrast to what she had always been used to.

  “You ever done it in the woods?” he asked her. “In the tall grass or against a tree with the moon high above?”

  Born to a highly religious mother whose ideals she could never escape, Candy had never done anything of the sort. She had to admit it sounded nice, like what she had secretly desired for a long time.

  “You like the sound of that, Candy?”

  She was lost in his eyes again. Her instincts and her mother’s ideals screamed no, but after peering into those eyes she said yes.

  Rupert pressed her against a tree. How nice the probing tongue felt in her mouth; a long, caressing kiss done with expert care and so unlike that of the inexperienced schoolboys she had dated. Everything else became vague against the darkness as he wrapped her in the kiss, his mouth tasting pleasantly of mint.

  “I promise this will be the best night of your life,” Rupert said, his tongue now in her ear.

  Candy was convinced she hadn’t ever wanted anything more. She ran her hands over the toned skin beneath his open shirt. A thought occurred to her, a thought society had conditioned into her mind, a thought she had been waiting through countless worthless guys to say.

  “Do you have protection?”

  “What, like a jimmy coat?” Rupert laughed softly. “I assure we won’t need that.”

  He pressed against her body again. She weaved one of her legs behind his as if she had some clue of what she meant to do. Teeth nibbled her ear, breath teased her skin. When he kissed her neck she sucked in a breath—it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, was it? Her heart threatened to pound through her chest.

  A sudden flash of pain ignited in her neck. Candy gasped, wanting to scream. Instead, she took a handful of his hair, unsure if she meant to push him away or pull him in to keep the pain that felt so good from ending. Warmth filled her abdomen as their hearts beat together as one. With each hammer in her chest, the pain lanced further through her body. Candy didn’t have the energy to protest even if she wanted. Her body was on fire. Every muscle surrendered. Rupert pulled away and stared into her eyes, his lips and teeth gleaming red.

  “Bloody hell, you taste good!”

  His mouth was on hers again, briefly, their tongues dancing to the frenetic song of their beating hearts. He left behind a metallic taste in her mouth as he went back down to her neck. The surging pain began all over again.

  Candy couldn’t think. She couldn’t move. She wanted to sleep, but she didn’t want this to end. Her back was against the soft ground, the grass was cool against her legs. Electric pain seared through her neck, through her chest, through every cell in her body. She wanted more; if only she could control this dream she drifted upon. Everything loomed out of reach in a dark haze. A harsh voice called out from the wilderness.

  “I warned you, vampire. Leave now.”

  A detestable British accent rang out into the night. “I told you to piss off! Think you can take me, yank? Let’s have a go.”

  Candy watched through a mist, through uncontrollable eyes that didn’t seem her own. She wasn’t surprised when two wolves prowled from one drifting shadow to another. She wasn’t afraid of the predatory eyes gleaming against the moonlight. In her dream, it was all beautiful. The whole night had to be a dream. Fangs stained red flashed in the darkness—only a dream.

  “You’ve overstepped your boundaries, vampire.”

  The call of wolves seemed like something that should have been heard and feared from a distance rather than from such an uncomfortable closeness. Eyes and teeth streaked through the dark. Rupert’s panicked voice faded into the night.

  The hobo from the bar stood over Candy. What an odd dream; he didn’t have on any clothes and his body was covered in black fur streaked with silver. His voice seemed to come from far away, not matching his position.

  “How bad is it?”

  Candy tried to move, to sit up, but she was exhausted. She hadn’t realized she was rubbing at the pain on her neck until she felt something slick and warm. The eyes of a wolf appeared at her feet.

  “Are we in time?”

  The wolf sniffed close to the hem of her dress and then nodded before bounding away. Candy looked at her hand. Blood. The world went black.

  Chapter Two

  Candy opened her eyes and grimaced. Her head hurt and she felt nauseous. And she didn’t know where she was.

  For a moment, she thought someone was shaking her bed, but then she realized her bed didn’t smell like armpits and motor oil. She rubbed her eyes and tried to get her brain working properly. When she opened her eyes again, she was staring at the back of a car seat directly in front of her face.

  “This is getting bad, Jimmy,” the man in the driver seat said. “Real bad.”

  Candy recognized the voice as the hobo from the bar. She didn’t dare move; the smelly, old pervert kidnapped her. Her friends had warned her of this day. “The games you play are going to catch up to you one day, Candy. It’s dangerous to dangle a piece of meat in front of a starving man and then snatch it away.”

  “What do you think we should do?” said the other man, presumably Jimmy, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

  Candy took a chance and lifted her head to get a look at where she was. It was dark outside, but she could tell they were on the interstate. Unable to think, and just when she needed to the most, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths to stave off panic.

  “I don’t know,” said the driver. “I’ve never seen one of them act like that before. He looked insane, like he had lost his mind. It took all three of us to scare him away.”

  Memories of what happene
d came flooding back. Candy blanched at the thought of Rupert and she mentally berated herself. He had been without a doubt one of the biggest dorks she had ever met and hearing his accent in her mind reminded her of nails on a chalkboard. She didn’t think she could ever forgive herself for leaving the bar with someone like him. Even his name made her cringe.

  Hadn’t the smelly old hobo called him a vampire? She hoped she hadn’t gotten herself mixed up with freaks pretending to be vampires.

  Then she remembered the wolves, which had seemed so real. She didn’t know what was going on. She had almost done improper things with the world’s biggest, poorly dressed loser and then a hobo kidnapped her. She didn’t want to think about wolves and . . . vampires.

  “Can’t we get help from the council? I don’t see any other choice,” Jimmy said.

  “Maybe,” the driver said. He added more grimly, and more to himself, “The world would be a better place without vampires, that’s for sure.”

  There he went talking about vampires again. Candy wasn’t sure which aspect of the current situation terrified her most. They all did equally, she supposed. A knot grew in her chest, threatening to send her into tears. She should have listened to her friends. She should have listened to her mother.

  Jimmy peeked around his seat. Candy snapped her eyes shut. From the brief glance of his profile, he looked much younger than the hobo, perhaps her own age. She wasn’t sure if it mattered that they weren’t both old and creepy.

  Taking in a deep and calming breath was all she could do to keep from freaking out. She had to remain patient for an opportunity to escape. She refused to be this summer’s missing girl. She had to concentrate to keep from imagining the image of her most recent picture plastered over every news channel across the country; her mother crying in front of the cameras as if she cared.

  “It’s a shame,” Jimmy said.