Page 20 of Guardians for the Vamp
When we reach the kitchen, she releases my hand. I already miss her cold touch.
“Would you like something to drink? I don’t have much since I rarely entertain anymore.” Layla opens the fridge and peers in. “Let’s see... there’s wine and water. I might have a bottle of whiskey or vodka somewhere.”
I’ve never been a heavy drinker, and I wouldn’t want anything that could impair me while I’m working.Though it would take quite a lot of booze to make gargoyles even slightly tipsy. The buzz doesn’t last long either. Drinking water will take the fun away pretty quickly. I believe it’s because we’re meant to protect and doing so impaired is not feasible, so our bodies work overtime to sober us up as fast as possible.
“Just water please.”
She nods and spins around, using her vampire speed to fill a glass with ice and water from the spout on the fancy fridge. It’s one that has an electronic display on the door. Her entire kitchen is fancy: several feet of marble countertops and spacious white cabinets, a stove with six burners on top, a wine fridge, a double sink with an expandable faucet.
I sit on a stool at the massive island, which could easily fit eight, maybe ten, people around it.
“Why don’t you entertain anymore?”
She hands me the water and wiggles her nose, once again reminding me of an adorable bunny.
“It’s been a while since I’ve found anyone worth entertaining. Millie and I used to go out all the time, but it started to feel too repetitive. We’d go to a club, dance and get drunk off boozed blood, we’d find someone to fuck, then do it all over the next week.”
“You and Millie were an item, right?”
It’s what I’ve heard some of my fellow gargoyle soldiers gossiping about.
She snorts. “First of all, no one describes romantic relationships as 'an item’ anymore.”
I shrug, accepting I will always be a socially awkward gargoyle who says all the wrong things.
“But, yes, Millie and I were together. We met in New Orleans in 1921. She was the closest I ever felt to being in love.”
“Not even when you were human?”
Layla frowns, likely at whatever memory I just triggered.
“When I was human, I was married, but I never loved my husband. How could I when it was an arranged marriage: my life in exchange for more land, a higher status in society. It’s just how things worked back then. I was only fourteen, for fuck’s sake, ten years younger than my husband. He abused me from day one, physically and mentally, any chance he got. He only saw me as a breeding mule, but there was something wrong with my body. I wasn’t able to get pregnant, which pissed him off even more.”
The anger that rolls through my body is palpable. Layla senses it and reaches out to take my hand. I should be the one consoling her! I attempt to reel in my fury hearing about her abusive husband, despite it happening centuries ago and there’s nothing I can do about it now.
Except be here for her.
She gently squeezes my hand and continues.
“I was thirty-two when I became a vampire. It was 1348, and I lived in a small town in The Crown of Castile or what is now modern-day Spain. I’d fallen sick with the bubonic plague, though we had called it The Black Death because the disease wiped out entire towns. I was ready to face my end. To end my suffering at my husband’s hands. It’s something I never told Millie. She believes I was thankful to be turned. At the time, I wasn’t. I wanted to be at peace. Now that I’m immortal, I’m making the best of this long life.”
“I think we all are, honestly,” I offer.
She smiles. “Yes, well, it was still a life forced on me by a possessive man who didn’t want to lose me. Rumors of immortal creatures swirled for years, and the moment I became sick, my husband sought one to save me. It didn’t take long. A vampire named Diago had been watching me for weeks after spotting me one night walking home from the market. He’d become quite obsessed with me, so when my husband begged Diago to turn me, basically selling my soul to this supernatural being, he gladly agreed.”
“What happened to your husband?” I ask.
A wicked smile spreads across her face and my cock jumps. She transformed from bunny to beast withinseconds. Vampires have a history of being dangerous... ruthless. I never saw that with Layla until now.
“When I turned, I needed human blood to complete the process. So, I drained my husband—not a drop left. Feeling his life fade, his heartbeat slowing, was invigorating. I knew at that moment I was a monster. Instead of being upset or angry about being turned, I quickly saw it as an opportunity to take control. A second chance.”
Her words cut off and the vindictive smile fades. I sense there’s more to her story, but the way she shuts down as if flipping a switch tells me story time is over.
I go to take a drink of my water and find the glass empty. Damn, I was parched. I stand to get more, but the next thing I know, the glass is out of my hand and Layla is refilling it.
“I guess pouring all that cum down my throat can make you dehydrated,” she says with a laugh.
My cheeks heat, my heart flutters, and my cock jerks.
