© 2026 by Ashley Chapman. Vampires Love Garlic. All rights reserved.

27

Haunted By You

Heather

Narcissa is enthusiastic and kind as she shows me to my guest room for the night. It’s beautiful, with buttery wallpaper, a large bed, white blankets and pillowcases, and an ornate full-length mirror. It fits the style of the house, the gorgeousness of it, but for once, I’m not seeing history. I’m not imagining women preparing for bed, removing layers and corsets, their hair falling below their knees when they unpin it.

I’m feeling McKenzie’s teeth on my lip.

Not just his teeth.

His tongue.

I know he was feeding. I know he was sucking on my cut, taking my blood. I know that. My head has made it perfectly clear that he was unwell because he needed blood, and I was bleeding. I served his needs, at least for the time being. He had a few drops and then pushed away from me as though I was some sort of poison. There was nothing romantic about his actions. He had a craving, he took it, and then he turned and left, walking away from me like I had burned him.

My heart is still pounding wildly. I think Narcissa is choosing to ignore it.

She’s gone now. She left a pair of pajamas on the bed: a fitted black tank top and some loose pajama pants.

I close and lock my door. I unpin my hair and remove my decorative headband. I don’t like where my thoughts are going. I don’t like that I’m trembling as I take off my clothes and pull on the pajamas. I shouldn’t be trembling. I should be angry with myself. I let McKenzie lick my lip. Whether or not it was in the name of hunger, I should have backed away when he drew close. Now I’ve put him in an uncomfortable position. He’s going to have to tell Narcissa that he tasted my lip, and there’s no way to say that without it sounding like he was kissing me.

He wasn’t kissing me.

Drinking blood doesn’t count.

I lay down on the bed, turn off the lamp, and stare up at the dark ceiling. I can feel my earrings tugging at my hair. I forgot to take them out.

I sigh, then pull one earring free before I remove the next one. I hold them close to my face, studying them. They’re nothing but pretty bead work, and my mind races back to the kitchen earlier. McKenzie tugged one of them between his teeth, playful, but I hadn’t felt playful. I’d felt warm, too comfortable, and too pleasant. His lips, so close to my skin, and his breath, so soft, so intimate, had made my thighs weak.

I don’t want to think this way. It’s wrong. I need to stay away from him and Narcissa. This really is a bad situation.

I put the earrings on my bedside table, close my eyes, and try to sleep.

But I can’t.

I can feel McKenzie, actually feel him. His fangs, pointed, deadly, fastened to my lip. His tongue… oh my gosh his tongue.

I squeal and bury my face in one of my pillows.

Sounds like I need to go to confession again.

Dear Lord, forgive me. I want a whole lot more from this man than just closeness. I want him in my arms, in my bed, in my heart. I don’t want him just to drink from my lip. I want him to devour my mouth, to feel that true kiss that I wish so much he would have taken.

I’ve only kissed one boy before, as a dare. Andy Whitman in twelfth grade. It was a prom dare, and after having dealt with being called the “Virgin Mary” through all of high school, I wanted to prove I wasn’t a complete prude. Hurray for peer pressure. I kissed Andy, and it was the most uncomfortable, unpleasant situation I ever put myself in. He was in on the dare, and he went all in. It was slimy, wet, and cold, and I swore I’d never let another person touch my mouth with his tongue again.

That just goes to show what swearing can do, because now all I can think about is McKenzie, how his tongue barely traced my cut, how his mouth closed over my lip and held.

I place a hand over my chest, feeling my heart. It shouldn’t ache the way it does. I know Narcissa and McKenzie are engaged. I know he started going to Broughton Café and drank lattes to find what she would like. I think he keeps coming to the café because he cherishes routine, and he keeps ordering lattes because he enjoys the latte art. I just so happen to work there. He doesn’t come for me. That doesn’t even make sense.

Now I’m feeling a little better. The warmth in my stomach and legs is easing away. Putting things in perspective always helps.

I’m only sleeping over because it is super late and it wouldn’t be safe for me to drive home. When I wake up, I’ll go home and I’ll figure out what to do from there.

I somehow manage to fall asleep, but I wake up a few hours later to hear sounds of distress coming from a room just down the hall. My heart pounds wildly, and I fling my blankets off and get to my feet.

Someone’s in pain. It sounds like growling coming from McKenzie’s room.

I reach for my cell phone and call Narcissa.

“Please pick up,” I whisper as the phone dials.

She doesn’t answer.

I think her room is at the very end of the hall.

I leave my room and make my way to where I think her room is. I knock on the door, call her name, and don’t get an answer. She must have gone out for a late night or… I look at my phone. Five o’clock. Early morning run. I’m going to have to check on McKenzie myself.

I walk toward the cries, my body trembling from anxiety and from getting up too fast. The hallway is still dark. Shadows stretch across the wood floor, and a grandfather clock is ticking nearby. One of the floorboards creaks under my feet, startling me, and I laugh nervously at myself. I shouldn’t be surprised that the house has character. It’s over a hundred years old.

As I near McKenzie’s room, the cries turn to snarls. I can’t tell if he’s in pain or frustrated. I thought a couple of drops of my blood were enough to calm him.

I don’t know why I thought that. He left me right after as though he had been stabbed.

He’s cursing. I can hear it coming from behind the door.

I knock softly, hoping he’ll hear me, the sound echoing eerily in the darkness.

“McKenzie? Are you okay?”

“God damn it, Heather! Get away from my door!” he shouts.

“That doesn’t sound like you’re okay,” I sigh, leaning against the door. “Is there something I can do?”

“You can’t stay here. Go home!”

Well, that stings.

“I wanted to go home,” I say with a frown. “In case you don’t remember. You and Narcissa said I should stay. I’m sorry I’m making you so angry.”

I turn to go, and the door opens behind me.

“What did I tell you about constantly apologizing for who you are?”

I turn, my cheeks flushed with indignation. I’ve been patient with all his orders, but being told to go home just strikes differently this morning. Probably because I’m sleep-deprived and didn’t want to sleep here to begin with. My emotions have been all over the place in the last twenty-four hours, and I’m tired of feeling like a doormat. Derrick pushed me around, and now McKenzie’s doing it.

“Stop telling me what I should and shouldn’t do,” I say, poking him in the middle of his chest.

His very bare, very masculine, absolutely gorgeous chest.

Oh great.

It’s the towel all over again.

“Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” I groan.

“Don’t you ever listen?” he snarls.

Ooh, he’s making me so angry.

Forget the gorgeous body.

I shove him hard, making him take a step back.

“Do you know how hard this is for me?” I snap, pushing forward. I glance around the huge master suite, noticing the broken glass bottles and the tangled sheets falling off his bed. “I just found out vampires are real, and then I got snubbed by one. Derrick thought it’d be fun to somehow drag me into the middle of all this.”

I shouldn’t be in here. I haven’t looked at his face yet. I don’t know what kind of mood he’s really in. But that doesn’t matter. For once, I want him to understand how all of this is toying with me.

“I’m just a human.” I look into his face.

I don’t think he’s ever been more beautiful. His hair is tousled from a fight with his bed. His green eyes are all but glowing, and the edges are tinged with red. His lips are parted, like he’s going to try and protest, but I’m forced to look at his eyes again. The look in them… what is it? He isn’t angry, at least, not at me. He’s absolutely hungry, but I don’t know if he’s hungry for blood or… or what? I hate being so naive sometimes.

His muscles are tense, standing out like he just hit the gym or ran a few miles. There are tiny specks of blood across his skin, and I remember what I learned about him sweating and being dehydrated. He must be feverish, and I raise a hand to touch his forehead.

“You’re sick,” I whisper, resting the back of my hand against his forehead. His skin is hot, and I know that can’t be healthy for him.

“Heather,” his voice is nearly a whine, “please get away. Please.”

“Why do you keep pushing me away? What have I done?” I whisper, feeling angry tears burning my eyes. “I’m just trying to help. I know my blood wasn’t enough for you.” My eyes meet his, and I swallow, trying to force down my hurt. “I know I’m not enough. If there’s something I can do to help, though, I want to help.”

“If you don’t leave in the next few seconds, I’m going to lose everything,” McKenzie hisses, trying to infuse his voice with anger, but I can hear the need underneath it.

“Because you only want my blood,” I say, pulling my hand away. “Fine. I’ll go.”

I turn away, my thoughts intrusive and painful.

I’m not a vampire. I don’t love garlic. I don’t need to drink blood to survive.

My tears are spilling down my cheeks as I walk to the doorway.

I can’t play a musical instrument. I’m not always cold.

The hallway is dark and foreboding, mirroring my spirit. If he doesn’t want me anywhere near him, then fine. I can respect his wishes. I shouldn’t be here anyway. He’s with Narcissa. There isn’t a single reason in the world why I should have slept here. I’ll go home, go to work, and continue with my plan to leave Savannah.

I’m not… devastatingly handsome or… or… shockingly beautiful.

I’m just me. I’m just Heather.

“And Heather,” McKenzie’s voice is a low growl, brushing possessively against my ear, “is all I need.”

“You read my thoughts,” I whisper, glancing over my shoulder.

He’s right there. So close I can see the flecks of scarlet in his green irises.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t be anywhere near you.”

“Do you really want to help me?”

His voice is almost unrecognizable. It’s deep, rough, and incredibly sexy.

I nod. I can’t talk again. Vampires must have the power to take away speech.

“I need blood.” He’s trying to soften his voice. “Yours.”

Oh. Ohhh. That’s what he means when he says I’m what he needs. Get your head out of the gutter, Heather. He’s not interested in you like that.

I shouldn’t be disappointed. I can feel any ounce of confidence I just had draining from my shoulders into my feet.

Of course he needs blood. That was the whole struggle he was having in the kitchen. He’s hungry, and I happen to be the only human with warm blood in the house.

“Oh.” I think my voice is clipped, but I don’t care. “Yeah. Of course. You need food.”

He chuckles, and I could slap him.

“Are you offended, Heather?”

“No.” Oof. That was rather curt. “Why should I be?” I ask. “You’re a vampire. Of course you need blood. You just watched everyone drink the night away, and you’re dehydrated. Where do you need it from? My neck?”

“Interesting you should immediately offer your neck.”

“Isn’t that where vampires always go?”

I’m irritated. Actually irritated. This man got me all excited and worked up, and now we’re on the matter of how he should drink my blood. Not that I should even care. A deer doesn’t ask a wolf what part of her body he wants to devour.

“Your neck would make my feeding sexual.”

“I just offered it because that’s what I’ve seen in all the movies.” I roll my eyes and step out of the room. “And it’s not the most sexual. My femoral artery would be. You know you could literally go for an early morning jog, run into any woman, and she’d one hundred percent give you whatever you want, right? I’m sorry I’m the only one convenient for you.”

“Is that what you are? Convenient?”

His voice has dropped to a low purr, and darn him, if he’s trying to experiment more with that stupid seduction trait, it’s working.

“I can hear your heart beating, Heather. I don’t think you’re just pissed off.”

“I am pissed off.”

“Hmm.” He hums, and the sound, so close to my ear, sends an actual quiver down my spine. “I think you’re aroused.”

“Ooh, you just have to go there, don’t you!” I exclaim, spinning around. My nose nearly crashes into his and I gasp. “What do you want, Kenzie? Gosh, just get it out! Here!” I shove my wrist up to his face. “Take it! I’m offering my blood. Here’s your once-in-a-lifetime chance to bite. Stop playing with your food.”

“See, this is where you frustrate the shit out of me.” He grabs my wrist and tugs me into his chest. “You think you’re just food. You think you’re an inconvenience. In what vampire movie does the vampire treat the leading lady like she’s only his blood source?” He steps backward, pulling me with him. “Isn’t it usually about romance?”

“McKenzie, please stop playing with me.” I’ve run out of fire, and I just feel tired. “I know I have ridiculous notions about vampires. I’m not the leading lady in your story. Narcissa is. We’re just friends, and I shouldn’t be in your room. I was worried about you. I’m not pretty enough for you.”

He growls, and my heart sinks.

“You think so little of yourself.” His voice is nearly a hiss. “You put smiley faces in lattes to brighten my day.” He spins me around, and I lose my balance. I grab his shoulders, my eyes wide as I look at his face. “You don’t care that I’m worth millions. You still make me clean the kitchen.” The back of my legs hit the bed. I try to defy gravity, but find myself falling back. “You always ask if I’m okay. You always try to give what I need. You put together a whole God damned party for me.”

“McKenzie!” I gasp as he grabs my legs and carefully sweeps them up onto the bed. My heart is racing so fast that my chest hurts. I reach for his shoulders, but he’s crawling over me, and my fingers end up stroking his pecs. “McKenzie!” I don’t know why I’m pleading or what I’m pleading for. All I know is that I’m flat on my back on his bed, my head resting on his pillows. He’s stretching over me like a cat, that glorious body flexing in a way that is making it impossible to breathe.

“Even now, even when I’m intimidating, you’ll still offer me your blood,” he croons, his forehead nearly touching mine. “Why? Because you’re a good person.”

“But… but…”

Oh heavens, I’m sobbing.

“But I don’t want to be,” I whisper. “I don’t want to be, McKenzie.” My chest is brushing his with every breath. “I… I want what I shouldn’t have!” Tears are streaming into my hair. “I’m not a good person. I want what someone else has!”

“What is it you want?” McKenzie growls, his breath rushing over my lips. “For once, Heather, what do you want?”

“I can’t… I can’t say!”

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Of hurting you! Of hurting Narcissa!” I try to sit up, but I end up hitting his collarbone with my forehead. “Ouch!”

“You’re not leaving until you talk this out,” he says, a bead of blood sliding down his cheek.

“You’re hungry!”

“And you’re blind. We make a good match.”

I laugh and push my chest against his, trying to shove him off.

Somehow, someway, he’s leaning over me. His biceps flex as he holds himself. My thighs are trapped between his legs, and it’s a real mercy that they are. If he was between my legs, I don’t think I’d be able to put together two coherent words.

“Kenzie.” I try to sound firm, but I sound breathless instead. “Please let me up. I shouldn’t be here. Look at us. You’re on top of me. Narcissa…”

“Is suddenly nowhere to be found. She left when she heard me struggling. I wonder why?”

He leans back just enough, giving me the space I need to escape.

“Now you’re just teasing me,” I say.

I sigh and try to relax. More blood droplets are forming under his eyes, and I can feel him trembling. He needs blood, and here I am, an available blood source.

“You can take from my wrist. I don’t want you to be miserable,” I say.

“And what can I give you in return?”

“Vampires don’t ever give anything back. Well, maybe immortality, but I don’t want that.”

“Consider me a generous vampire,” he says.

My eyes, traitors that they are, drop to his mouth. I can see his fangs, just past his lips. They’re pointed, sharp, and I bet they’ll hurt horribly when he feeds.

“You really want to give me something? I’m not just food to you?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he sighs, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. “You are desirable, Heather.”

I laugh for real this time.

“Me?” I manage. “I’m human! Every vampire woman is gorgeous!”

“How did you ever grow up thinking you were anything but pretty?” he scowls.

“We had a lot of food disorders in my family. I was bigger,” I say, attempting a shrug. “No gap between my thighs. No size 4 clothes. I told you about my scar on my face. Can I get up now?”

“I’ve given you plenty of space to get up. You’re free to go.”

He’s frowning. I guess something I said bothers him. He pushes completely away from me, and I scramble off the bed.

“I’m sorry you feel unwell. I’m sorry you’re hungry. I did offer.”

“If you really want to help me, then I’ll make a deal with you,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed, arms draped over his thighs.

“Oh?”

“You’ll let me make you feel good, and then I’ll take your blood.”

“What do you mean?”

My heart kickstarts into a frenzied rhythm.

“You think you’re unattractive. You think this,” he waves to the air around us, “is just me being a hungry vampire. You think I’ve been tolerating you, humoring you, letting you come and go in my house because you’re some sort of cute human squeakie toy that squeals when you feel awkward and blushes when you get even a little bit nervous. Let me ease all that away, and then I’ll feed.”

“How do you plan to do that?” I ask, inching back toward the doorway.

“I’m not telling you my secrets. You want to help me, then let me help you first. And maybe we can help each other in harmony.”

“I don’t know,” I stammer.

“Your blood won’t taste right if you’re worried or afraid, Heather. Your lip tasted amazing because you were relaxed and delighted. Right this second, you’re too distracted by your self-image and what looks right and wrong. So let me take that from you. Trust me. Consider it another experiment.”

“I can’t ask Narcissa if she’s okay with it.”

“She is. She wouldn’t have left when I was in pain if she didn’t think you could help me. Trust me.” McKenzie cocks his head to the side. “Let me show you what I see.”

“But I’m afraid of what you see,” I whisper. “I’m afraid of what you see when you look at me.”

“I’m really hungry, Heath.” He gives me a tired smile, and I can see toxin dripping from his fangs. “These teeth actually hurt. A lot. They won’t stop aching until I’ve fed. You can ease it, but you have to trust me first. Obviously, you trust me enough to let me drink. Now trust me to take care of you while I do. Allow it. Let me.”

He’s trembling. His whole body is shuddering with the need to eat. I’m making this more painful for him. He wants to give me a gift in return for my blood. I don’t know why that frightens me, but it does. I don’t want him to keep suffering, though. I don’t want him to hurt because of my uncertainty.

So I nod my head, fight my fear, and stand in the doorway waiting to see what he’s going to do.