Insatiable: Mystic River Vampire Academy (Year One)

  Insatiable

  Mystic River Vampire Academy Year One

  Copyright © 2020 Annalise Clark

  Cover design by Pixie Covers

  All Rights Reserved

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

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  Dedication

  For Juan, with love until the Greek kalends.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Sneak Peek into Bloodlust: Mystic River Vampire Academy Year Two

  Sample of Spookybrook Witch Academy: Year One

  Chapter One

  My mother had always warned me about one-night stands. Unfortunately, I never listened to her all that much, and that would come back to haunt me in ways that I could never imagine. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I want to start this story from the beginning.

  Right now, I was 21 and loving my life. I was an adult, which meant I could do whatever – and whoever – I wanted. And it was safe to say that I was exercising that right to its fullest extent.

  That is precisely how I ended up going home with that hunky guy from the bar. He was tall, dark, and handsome, built like a linebacker, but his hands were oh-so-soft and gentle. I knew before we even left the bar that I was going to have a fun night with him.

  What I didn’t know is that he was going to sink his teeth into me – literally – and leave me for dead.

  What he didn’t know, is that I carry the vampire gene. Hell, I didn’t know either until the regrettable morning after when I was doing the most painful walk of shame ever and suddenly had an intense desire to eat the rarest steak imaginable.

  Talk about hangover cravings!

  Anyway, here I am, creeping back into my apartment just after 10am, still wearing my clubbing gear from the night before, minus the G-string panties I managed to lose somewhere along the way, and my roommate, Missy, comes out of the kitchen holding a fresh coffee in one hand and gives me “the look”.

  You know the one – the one that says, “I know what you did last night and I’m not going to judge, but I hope you used protection.”

  “Well, did you at least get his name?”

  “No. Wait! Yeah, he said it was Michael Knight.”

  She snorted right into her coffee. “Michael Knight? Smooth.”

  “What? Do you know him?”

  “The whole world knows him,” she snickered. “Knight Rider? You never heard of it?” she laughed, taking another sip of the steaming brew, as I just stared blankly at her. “David Hasselhoff?”

  I still had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Don’t hassle the Hoff? Seriously? You’ve never heard of him?”

  I nodded my head from left to right slowly, wondering what she was going on about and what this had to do with the creep who bit me last night.

  “Ahh, kids these days,” she sighed, placing her coffee cup on the table. “I think he gave you a fake name, baby.”

  “Ohh,” I said, nodding. “Yeah, pretty sure I did the same thing.”

  Missy just laughed as I shrugged and removed my heels before walking across the living room to get to the hallway and my bedroom. “Anyone in the bathroom?”

  “Nah, it’s all yours, girl. Go ahead and wash that Knight Rider off you.” She giggled as she went back into the kitchen, and I made a beeline for my bedroom so I could get some fresh clothes.

  On the way, I nearly ran right into my other roomie, Lexie.

  “Dayum, girl! Was he tryna suck your neck or suck your blood?” she squealed once she was about three feet away from me. She held her signature smoothie in her hand and pointed toward my neck with her pinky finger.

  My hand instantly went up to my neck protectively. I had felt a bit sore there, but I was in too big of a hurry to leave this morning to stop and look. He must have given me one hell of a hickey!

  “Really, Lexie?” I gave her my most annoyed side-eye, but on the inside, I was laughing. That was Lexie for you.

  “Girl, I’m not judging. I’m just observing.”

  “Mhmm, I’m sure,” I said as I went into my room to get some clothes. My bed was still made from yesterday morning since I never came home to sleep in it. My favorite teddy bear that I had since I was five sat in the middle of the pillows, a big smile on his face. “Hey Mr. Paws,” I whispered.

  Opening the top drawer of my white wooden dresser, I pulled out some fresh panties and a matching bra. Then I opened the second drawer to find my favorite skinny jeans. They were the dark denim ones with their extra stretchy fabric that made them more comfortable. They hugged the curves in all the right places but didn’t cut off circulation when I bent over. It was definitely feeling like a stretchy jeans kind of day…

  Next, I went over to my closet to look for a blouse. I flipped through a few white ones before settling a tiny little blood red number that I wore so infrequently, that I had almost forgotten I owned it.

  Just as I was gathering my towel and other shower supplies, I felt a pang in my stomach that nearly doubled me over. Then, a rumbling… I’d never felt so hungry in all my life.

  Sheesh! How much did I drink last night?

  As the stomach cramping subsided, I decided to get straight into the shower, then I’d find something to eat that my hungover stomach would tolerate, hopefully.

  Right now, I just wanted to wash the ick off myself. I hadn’t actually intended to spend the night with Michael Knight – or whoever he was. I just wanted to get some and then go home. The thing was… I could not actually remember all that had happened last night.

  While it is true that I had been partying pretty hard lately, I wasn’t prone to blackouts. Had I been drugged? If so, I don’t think my “sleepover buddy” was the one who did it. In fact, he’d been really big on consent and asked me several times if I was sure I wanted to continue. Way more considerate than a lot of the guys I had been with…

  Why is it I could remember that, but I couldn’t remember what happened after? In fact, I remembered everything leading up to us actually having sex, and then… nothing. Just a big, black hole until I woke up this morning, naked in a strange bed with a massive headache and decided to bail before Mr. Knight Before woke and expected an encore.

  I really hated that feeling. I suppose no one likes to feel out of control of their own bodies, but this was an exposed, vulnerable feeling that I did not care for at all. Maybe I did need to cool it on the partying a bit.

  All of these thoughts raced through my head as I stood in the bathroom now, the cool tiles on my feet, and pulled my shirt off over my head, dropping it to the floor. The mirror in front of me showed a tired girl with yesterday’s mascara smudged below her eyes, looking like a racoon.

  My neck was really sore…

  As I thought about the pain in my neck, I moved my long auburn hair over and saw something
that completely shocked me.

  That wasn’t a hickey!

  It looked like… well, it looked like a wound, if I was being honest. There was a huge bruise about the size of a half dollar forming on my neck, that was already turning different shades of black and blue. But there was more than that… there was dried blood.

  Reaching up with my hand, I rubbed at the dried blood that was crusting on my bruised skin, although it was very tender to touch, and some of it flaked away revealing two small holes in the skin, in the middle of the bruise.

  What the hell?

  Panicking a little, I leaned in closer toward the bathroom mirror to try to get a good look at it, but the angle and location of the wound made it very difficult. I picked up a hand mirror we used for doing our hair sometimes and tried to get a closer look with that.

  Yep, it definitely looked like two tiny holes in my neck and lots of bruising all around them.

  I glanced down at my shirt on the floor and noticed bloodstains on it as well. How had I missed that before? Honestly, it’s probably because the world was spinning, and my stomach was trying to eat itself. And because I left his place like a bat out of hell, eager to get home as soon as possible.

  Why am I such an idiot? I thought, vowing to never drink again but knowing I’d probably break my own promise to myself in less than 24 hours. Turning on the shower to hot water only, I peeled off the rest of my clothes, looked one more time at my neck in the mirror, sighed deeply, then turned on some of the cold tap, too, before climbing into the shower. I just needed to wash it all away. I was sure I’d feel better after that.

  After the warm water ran over my face and body for a few minutes, I shampooed my long hair, massaging the roots, and taking in the nice berry scent. I was starting to feel better already.

  As I washed the rest of my body, I searched for evidence of more damage, but there was none. No bruises, no cuts, no sores, no blood… everything seemed fine. I guess that was a good thing, but I was still feeling really weird about what happened and my inability to remember it.

  Then I rinsed the shampoo from my hair and some soapy water ran over my neck and it burned like getting alcohol in a cut.

  “Ahhhh!” I cried out loud in the shower, which echoed and probably got the attention of at least one of my nosy roommates. They’d probably be cracking dirty jokes when I got out.

  Rubbing my neck again with my hand, I tried hard to remember what had happened last night. It started with a club crawl with my girls, then I met him and after swearing to them I was fine and I would text, I decided to leave with him.

  Retracing my steps in my mind, I tried to recall as many details as possible. He said he lived just a couple of miles away. We left the bar and went back to his apartment in an Uber. His hands were all over me as we made out in the backseat. His big, strong hands that felt so good on my skin, around my waist, on my breasts…

  Then, the Uber driver stopped at his address. I could hardly wait to get inside and tear his clothes off. The make out session in the car had me so riled up. He was revved up, too, but he was so patient. He was going so slowly, and he asked me one more time, “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive,” I moaned in his ear before giving it a little nibble. “Enough teasing. I can’t take it anymore,” I purred.

  “Careful now, I might bite back,” he had said, and I laughed, a little too loudly. I blame it on the cocktails. I’d clearly had too many. But still, I was in control. I knew what I was doing, and I had wanted this.

  He lived alone, but in that moment, I don’t think it would have mattered to me either way. I kicked off my shoes as we kissed in the living room. Then, as his hands roamed my body and his tongue explored my mouth, I unbuttoned his shirt.

  My hands explored his hard chest, and down to his slim waist, and although I wasn’t directly touching it yet, I could feel his hardness. He was excited for me, too.

  He pulled my top up over my head and broke his mouth from my lips to kiss down my neck, my chest, and over my breasts that were firm and perky, still in my bra.

  “Let’s take this someplace more comfortable,” he had said, grabbing me by the hand and leading me to the bedroom. I would have done him right in the hallway, if needed. I had never been so hot for a guy in all my life. When I looked into his eyes, I seemed to melt right into him. It was intoxicating.

  Once in his bedroom, he slid my skirt down my waist and off over my legs, tossing it across the room. I was in my bra and panties now, on his silken bedspread, as dim light filled the room. It was just enough to see what we were doing, but not so much to be glaring or distracting.

  Had he turned on lights when we came in here, or were they already on? I didn’t know, didn’t care, didn’t want to do anything else except continue kissing him and feeling his hands on my body.

  “Are you sure you want this?” He asked again.

  “Yes! Yes, I’m sure!” I shouted this time, not caring who heard. I needed him like I had never needed anything in my life.

  With his strong firm body on top of mine, he held my hands up above my head with one hand, and he slid the other hand up and down my body as he leaned in to kiss me again, deep and hard this time, his tongue thrusting into my mouth and circling around mine.

  He smelled divine. I closed my eyes in the shower as the water ran over me, remembering his smell. It was intoxicating and just thinking of it took me back to that moment, staring into his eyes.

  Then, his kisses ran down my face and my neck again. This is where things went fuzzy. It was as if something was interrupting the timeline. Try as I may, I couldn’t bring those memories back.

  He was kissing my neck and then…

  Ouch! There was pain.

  From what? I couldn’t remember.

  Think, Carmilla, think. What caused the pain?

  There was a flash of a memory – my hands were being held tighter now. I was struggling against him, but he was far stronger than me. Maybe this was part of the sex? I did like it rough…

  Then everything went fuzzy again. Ugh! Why did I drink so much? It must have been catching up to me after the fact. I had a habit of getting in too deep before the buzz really hit me.

  I strained hard, focusing all my attention back to my memory of last night. Out of the fuzz, I saw his face above me. He was hovering over my body, still on the bed.

  That’s it… now I was remembering.

  His face was above me and… I looked up into his eyes, his dark, dreamy eyes and … they flashed red. Red like fire or demon eyes or something else that I couldn’t explain because I had never seen anything like it before. I had started to scream then, and he laughed, showing long, white, sparkling fangs dripping with red blood.

  My blood?

  I was suddenly jolted out of the memory and reminded that I was still in the shower. The water was starting to run cold over my back and my fingertips were starting to wrinkle.

  Getting out of the shower, the earth felt shaky around me, my feet wobbly, my body unsteady.

  I must have been drugged. He drugged me and that was why I couldn’t remember it all and that was just a vision; like a fever dream, but it was brought on by all the alcohol and whatever drug he gave me.

  That had to be it!

  As I wrapped a large, fluffy towel around my naked, wet body, I steadied myself leaning against the counter. Why did it feel so real then? If that was a dream, it was the most realistic dream I’d ever had. Also, how did that explain the holes in my neck?

  Wiping the steam from the mirror, I looked again at myself. My face free of last night’s makeup now… my eyes less racoon-like, but still tired… and then I looked again at my neck. With the dried blood washed away, there were two very distinctive little holes in my neck.

  Fang marks.

  I felt the room spinning and growing dark, and quickly sat down on the toilet before I passed out. The last thing I needed was to be carted off naked in an ambulance after a crazy night of too much drinking and myste
ry sex with a stranger.

  It didn’t make any sense. There had to be another explanation, even if I couldn’t remember it right now. My hungover mind was just playing tricks on me. Sitting was already making me feel better.

  While still sitting on the toilet, I dried my body from the shower and began to slide into my new clothes. I didn’t want to make any sudden moves and black out again, but I didn’t want to spend the rest of my day hiding in the bathroom, either.

  Once I had dried, dressed, and put some conditioner in my hair, I left the bathroom feeling as pulled together as I was going to be able to manage, for now. I’d just try to avoid my roommates and well... anyone else… for a little while, until I started to feel better.

  You can do this, Carmilla. You just need some hydration and a decent meal.

  I needed some fresh air, and my stomach was still churning, so I decided to go for a walk. Not usually the fitness or exercise type, this was new and random, but I just had to get out of that house.

  My senses were on fire today! Every scent was so strong. All the lights were glaring brighter than ever. My roommates seemed so loud. And that growling in my stomach would not go away. I needed food, but nothing sounded good. I had looked at some fruit in the kitchen on my way out, but the thought of it made my stomach turn.

  Now here I was, walking up the sidewalk a few blocks from the house I shared with my roommates, trying simultaneously to forget last night and also to remember what had happened to me in those forgotten, fuzzy moments. I wanted to remember, but I was afraid to remember.

  What if I saw his face again, and those eyes, and those bloody fangs?

  I was so lost in my thoughts, that I didn’t even notice someone walking very close behind me until the voice said something just inches from my ear.

  “You’ve been bitten,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  “Excuse me?” I didn’t intend to have quite that level of snark in my voice when I said it, but I was having a day, and it was starting to show. I turned around and came face-to-face with a petite woman with a serious face.