© 2026, Vampires Love Garlic by Ashley Chapman. All Rights Reserved.

18

Vampires Don’t Sparkle

McKenzie

But our skin does look transparent when we’re peckish.

I’m going through my second blood bag, watching the crimson liquid pulse through my blood as it slowly makes its way through my body. The veins in the tops of my hands are swelling, throbbing with life.

I only hope it’s enough to keep me off Heather.

Now that I’ve tasted her blood, had a damn out-of-body experience, she’s going to be the greatest temptation I’ve ever faced. Which isn’t fair, because I consider her a friend and I would never want to hurt her. I’m still amazed she didn’t report me to the police or run screaming.

“Feeling better?” Narcissa asks, gliding into the kitchen in her black and red “Vampires Rock” pajamas. I’m wearing freaking matching pajamas, and she bought a pair for Heather. Good to know my fiancée has a warped sense of humor. It was either “Vampires Rock” or “Bite Me.” At least she opted for the first.

“You shouldn’t have had me invite her over,” I grumble. “Poor girl’s got enough to worry about. I don’t want her terrified that I’ll tear into her neck or some other god-awful thing.”

“I like how you keep referring to her as a ‘girl,’” Narcissa says, popping a mini corndog into her mouth. “It’s almost like you can’t admit to yourself that she’s a woman. Almost like, if you admit that, you’re confessing that you have deep, dark desires for her that linger on the indecent and passionate.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I scowl, staring at my empty bag.

Blood’s dripping down my chin. I lick out, catch some of it, then get the rest with my napkin.

“You two would be really cute together,” Narcissa says, taking a sip of water.

“We’re vampires, Cissa. Humans are out of the question.”

“If you say so.” Narcissa sighs, sits on a barstool, then jumps up when the doorbell chimes.

I clean up, hiding the evidence of my indulgence, and walk into the entrance foyer.

Heather’s seen better days. There are gray circles under her eyes. She spent the afternoon crying. She didn’t make any attempts at makeup or contacts, and she’s dressed in a tank top, sweatpants, and a loose jacket, her colorful hair in a sloppy braid.

“I’m not great company right now,” she sniffs. “But I thought McKenzie needed to see I’m not afraid, so I came. You’re a vampire, too?” she asks, looking at Narcissa and her ridiculous pajamas.

I listen to the women chat and watch as Narcissa guides Heather into the house and then upstairs to her room.

I make my way into my entertainment room. This place was once used as a lady’s parlor. It has floral wallpaper that makes me cringe, but I don’t come in here often enough to want to put money into it. My TV is massive, my furnishings are all huge, leather, masculine things, and that’s all that matters to me.

I plop down on one of the couches and turn the television on.

And wouldn’t you know it, but there’s a vampire movie playing?

Joy.

May as well investigate whatever it is Heather’s going to be asking me about vampires.

To make matters better, it’s a sex scene. And of course the vampire bastard’s biting into the female lead’s neck while blood is spraying in all directions. The vampire will probably drink his fill, possibly turn the woman into a monster like him, and then walk away without the entire vampire council or whole human police force chasing him down. If the movie were honest, he’d be pinned to the wall with stakes in each of his limbs and the vampire Council would make him suffer before granting him a violent death.

Vampire Rule Number 15:

We have some of the nastiest executions in history.

There’s been many a night I’ve thanked God I wasn’t alive for the whole Jack the Ripper debacle. Turns out it was a vampire named Rueben Blake who enjoyed his ladies-of-the-night a bit too much. For his crimes, his entire family was killed off in front of him. Somewhat mercifully for them, but certainly not for him. He was put through enough torture to write a book until someone finally beheaded him. His blood was drained in the English sewers (fitting for Jack the Ripper). He was torn into pieces and spread throughout the nearby vampire families as a warning.

Pretty sure there’s still a piece of him in California somewhere.

“We’re ready for ‘Pretty in Pink!’” Narcissa sings, and I turn the channel before the women can tease me for watching this monstrosity.

Heather now matches us in the ridiculous pajamas. Narcissa brushed and braided her hair, showing her the sort of kindness Heather probably needs right now. She nudges Heather onto the couch next to me, then disappears into the kitchen, pulling out whatever it is she made for dinner. I can hear dishes clattering, and I can nearly feel Heather’s heart beating. Precious thing’s nervous.

“So,” I say, breaking the silence before it can get too awkward. “You must have questions.”

“I did,” she admits, nodding. “But then I thought it would be rude to ask.”

“Hmm. Let me help you.”

I scoot back just enough to look into her face without our foreheads nearly touching.

“I’m not immortal. I’m thirty-three years old. For real. In human years. I don’t have any siblings. Vampires struggle with infertility just like humans.” I smile, trying to keep a heavy topic light. “I have a heart. As you saw. My senses are stronger than yours. I can hear your heart beating. I can smell your shampoo. I can occasionally read what you think, but I have to concentrate and have a real desire to do it. I’m stronger than a human, faster, but not like the movies show. I can’t throw cars or move so quickly that I’m only a blur. If you cut me, I bleed. I can be killed by a wooden stake to the heart. I don’t know who can’t be.”

Heather smiles nervously and looks at her fingers.

“Can you turn anyone?” she asks quietly.

“Hell no. That would be a nightmare. Vampires are born, just like humans.”

I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head as she stares at the football game on the screen.

“Can you turn into a bat?” she asks, a small smile on her face.

“No.”

“A wolf?”

“I wish.”

“Would you ‘cross oceans of time’ to find the one you love?”

She’s smiling fully now, her eyes sparkling.

“I’m not Gary Oldman.” I laugh.

“Okay.”

She settles back, not bothered that my arm is stretched out behind her on the couch.

“You have more questions,” I say. “Spit them out, or I’ll delve into your mind.”

“You better not,” she warns lightly. “You’d probably only find cotton balls and a few whiffs of juniper perfume.” She sucks in a deep breath, then releases it. “The rest of my questions are probably better left unanswered.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re not appropriate,” she says simply. “You might even find them offensive.”

“Are they dark fantasy related?”

She giggles.

Outright giggles.

After all she’s been through these past few days, it’s nice to hear.

“Now I’m curious.” I smirk. “I haven’t read a whole lot of vampire smut. What do they make you think about vampires these days?”

“First,” she says, her smile so bright it must be making her face burn.

It’s definitely warming my insides.

“It’s not smut,” she continues. “I’m sure it’s all purely fiction, but it still makes me wonder about things. You’ve already said vampires are born. That crosses out the idea that you’re dead and can’t procreate. I’m glad you aren’t a seventeen-year-old trapped forever in a man’s body.” She’s treading carefully. I can hear the hesitation in the thoughts she’s voicing aloud. “I don’t think you have any need to hypnotize anyone.” She’s talking to herself and letting me hear it. “Since you’re mostly human, and you just have a disorder, my guess is you can walk into anyone’s house whenever you please, without an invitation.”

“None of these ideas are inappropriate,” I encourage softly.

Her eyes flick to mine.

“Okay.” She reaches up, pushes her glasses up her nose with her pinky finger. “Can you seduce people? Like, if you want something from someone, can you wheedle them into it with your voice and your body? You’re clearly designed to be gorgeous. Can you use that to your advantage?”

“I’ve never needed to.”

I’m mildly irritated by the soft indignation creeping through me.

She did warn me her questions might be offensive.

She isn’t meaning them to be, but the idea that I’d have to go out of my way to lure someone in is offensive. Not because that skill would be particularly disgusting, but because she would think I have to resort to that to get what I want.

Vampire Rule Number 16:

If I’ve stated this one already, it’s worth stating again. Vampires have an insanely powerful sense of pride.

I’ve earned every dollar I’ve made, and not by seducing anyone. My looks are something I can’t really help. I know I’m attractive. I get ogled at least once a day. Abs of granite, muscles of steel, a face that women kiss on magazine covers… That’s me.

“I’m sorry.”

She says it before I’ve finished thinking.

“I wasn’t meaning to be rude. I’ll stop.”

“No,” I say firmly, shaking my head. “I think I’m missing the meaning behind your question. Explain it, please.”

“Do you have a magical seduction to you?” She’s trying to help me see what it is she’s thinking. “I wasn’t asking whether or not you use it, but if you have it. You know how Dracula can lure people to him? How he tempted Lucy, and even how he took control of Renfield? He had almost a magical ability to lure women and men into his grasp. If he wanted to feed, he’d just have to use his voice, his power, and women would fall into his arms. I don’t believe you’d ever do that.” She puts a hand on my leg. It’s meant to be consoling, but my body reacts in a way that is more inappropriate than any of her questions have been. “If you wanted someone, could you get them by using that particular power?” She sums up.

“Why does that interest you?” I ask, then swallow hard.

Her touch is light as a feather, barely there, but by God, is it scorching.

She shrugs and moves her hand away, oblivious.

“Dark fantasy romance,” she says with a blush. “Vampires are written as extremely sexual creatures. Even all the movies show them that way. There’s something maddeningly hot about a vampire seducing someone. In the movies.” She stumbles over her words and looks toward the kitchen. “Where is Narcissa?”

She’s uncomfortable.

Sure, she’s put herself here.

But I don’t want her to be uncomfortable when she’s being honest.

She just learned vampires actually exist. She’s been asking reasonable questions about the only things she’s known about my people. I don’t want her ever to be uncomfortable. I want to lighten the mood.

So, for one of the very rare times in my life, in an effort to put her at ease, I overstep.

“Perhaps we should experiment,” I say quietly, moving my hand close enough to her that I can twirl a lock of her teal hair around my finger. “Do I have any magical seductive powers?” I smile, careful to keep my expression friendly, not wanting it to look wolfish. I can feel my fangs lengthening, a knee-jerk reaction to her hand on my leg. I don’t want to frighten her, but I am intrigued by her interest in vampire fiction. Seems she knows a lot about the pretend vampire world.

“What do you mean?” she asks, leaning back.

“I’m going to get close to you. Aside from this one finger,” I say, tugging gently on her hair, “I’m not going to touch you. And you can be the judge of whether or not I have any magical abilities.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she stammers. “I don’t want to hurt Narcissa’s feelings or do anything that could harm her.”

“Cissa!” I call, keeping my eyes locked on Heather’s. “Since you’re taking your sweet time in the kitchen, would you mind if I try and seduce Heather? She wants to know if I have some sort of magical abilities.”

I’m answered by a burst of laughter.

“You?” My pesky fiancée squeals. “Oh Lord! Good luck with that. Heather, let me know when he starts making goofy faces. I want to see.”

“I think she’s alright with it,” I growl, suddenly deflated.

My ego’s really taking a beating tonight.

“Okay,” I grumble. “In these ridiculous novels, what does the vampire do? I’ve never tried to seduce anyone before.”

“Kenzie.” She puts up a hand, placing it on my chest as I move closer. “This is dangerous.”

“I won’t bite you. I told you I wouldn’t touch you.”

And then I hear it, just a whisper of her thoughts, cutting through my mind.

“It’s dangerous for me. I already like you. I really like you. If I let you touch me, if I let you seduce me…Oh my gosh. I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“Heath,” I say quietly, releasing her hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it. If I actually have any supernatural pull for you, I will stop. I’m not going to touch you.”

She swallows, and I see the conflict in her eyes.

And I understand.

She’s a good girl. She goes to church every Sunday. She works hard to pay for college and to help her grandparents. She respects that I’m engaged. And somewhere along the way, however slowly, she’s started to fall for me. If I hadn’t heard it in her mind, I can still see it in her eyes.

“What are you going to do?” she whispers.

“I’m going to lower my voice. Like this.”

I drop my voice an octave, soften it, make it quieter.

“Just like this,” I say. “And I’m going to lean in. Close. I’m not going to touch you.”

I move my face toward hers, bringing my mouth inches away from her neck. I keep my eyes on her face as I part my lips and let my warm breath rush over her skin.

She shivers. A full-body tremble.

She tries to say something, but she can’t seem to speak.

I let my breath shift over her neck, up and then down, dipping into the collar of her “Vampires Rock” pajamas. I can smell the faint trace of juniper perfume on her skin. I can hear her blood pulsing in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. There’s a sudden heaviness to the air that I don’t hate. It’s like the air before a storm, the stillness that comes before a clap of thunder or a flash of lightning.

“Not going to touch you,” I murmur. “Just an experiment, Heather.”

But it’s not.

It’s not an experiment.

What started as curiosity on both our parts is turning into something much deeper.

“McKenzie,” she whispers, her eyes sliding shut. “You don’t…you don’t need to seduce anyone. You’re right.”

“No?” I ask, voice still low, mouth still terribly close to her neck.

My fangs are completely descended. Being this close to her, smelling her blood, feeling her anticipation makes me want to taste.

Oh, what an interesting discovery this is.

“Heather?” I ask, my voice raspy.

“Hmm?”

My God, she’s tilted her head back. I can see her veins pulsing. She’s lost in this, whatever this happens to be.

“When a vampire seduces a victim, in your books, does it ever backfire?”

“What do you mean?”

She’s struggling through every word.

“What if the victim’s blood is seducing the vampire? Not the other way around?”

I can feel her emotions.

It’s the most delectable sensation.

More powerful than hearing her thoughts.

This is a new skill for me. I didn’t realize I could actually feel another person’s feelings.

It’s addictive.

She wants me.

She wants my mouth on her neck.

Not blood. Not fangs. Just my mouth touching her fair skin.

Just me.

I’m salivating. Like a rabid dog.

Her blood tasted so good when she was afraid, when she didn’t understand.

How would it taste now, when all she wants is my lips on her throat?

“Pizza!” Narcissa sings from the doorway.

Heather jerks back. She’s breathing quickly, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She’s struggling to keep her breaths quiet, to not let soft gasps slip past her lips.

Something’s happened in the past three minutes.

Not magic, but definitely powerful. Something hot and addictive.

And I know, as Narcissa walks into the room, that Heather and I are going to continue this experiment later.