Toxic:A Dark Vampire Romance

By: Eve Langlais


Don’t play with your food, the first rule of etiquette vampires are taught, and yet I am so tempted to nibble on the mortal doctor I’m forced to work with. My weakness for Raphael is a problem—for him. My touch is deadly to humans, although they do tend to die with a smile on their face.

Vampires are real. The world now knows, and in a gesture of good will, we’ve allowed them to send a human to study us that the populace might understand they’ve nothing to fear. We’re not savage, mindless killers. We’re cold, calculating survivors, and we know how to keep a secret.

It’s up to me to make sure this human doctor doesn’t see too much. So no eating him, as I’m sure his demise will end the precarious truce vampire kind has with the world. It saddens me to admit we will need their armies and weapons in the coming war. A war they refuse to believe is coming.

Fools. I haven’t lived this long to suffer them, and I didn’t become the general of the vampire queen’s army by being diplomatic. Everyone will fight in the upcoming battle, or they’ll feed my troops. All things living will do their part, or die.

Just like Raphael will die if he keeps tempting me with those lips. Because everyone knows a vampire’s kiss is toxic.

Chapter One

What a perfect night for monsters to come out from under the bed. Not a cloud marred the night sky. A full, fat moon hung heavy, its bright glow illuminating the earth. In the distance something howled, a lucky hunter enjoying a chase, while I was stuck here in front of a crowd.

Duty before pleasure, welcome to my life. The quicker I performed this chore, the faster I could get to more pleasurable tasks, like dragging nails down a chalkboard to grab the attention of fledgling recruits. And, yes, I said chalkboard and not one of those newfangled smart ones. While acquainted with technology, I didn’t approve of it. Who could trust invisible, electrical particles? I did not like things I could not see or understand.

I tapped the microphone on the podium before me and winced at the screeching feedback. Where was an intern when I needed one? Someone to deal with the mundane things like sound checks and trumpeting my arrival.

Not this time. They’d sent me alone to do this task, a wretched task I still couldn’t believe I’d ended up being roped into doing. Why did I have to hold a press conference? I would have preferred a visit to a sadistic dentist. But my wish for physical pain went unheeded, and the moment of truth, so to speak, had arrived.

I stood there and hesitated. Me! The head of several armies, a leader in my time, and still a force to be reckoned with. Yet, despite all those accomplishments, my tongue stuck, and my dry lips rubbed together. Not acceptable.

Straightening my posture, I gazed upon the sheep in their seats—some of them yummily plump—most of them not even looking at me, too intent on their smart phones and tablets. For a moment, heat seared my gaze, shading them in a pulsing shade of red.

Beat. Thump. Pulse. Their life pounded in their veins, and I suddenly hungered. That one at the far end looked juicy. He was spared but only because I wouldn’t allow myself a snack until I was done.

“Hello, ladies and gentleman. Thank you for coming.” Nervousness, an unfamiliar feeling, gnawed at me. I forced myself not to fidget in front of the sea of reporters watching. At least a few now raised their disinterested faces from their glowing screens to eye me.

I’ll eye you, on the end of my fork. The legends might claim we only drank blood, but that usually only happened when we chose to dine and dash. When we truly wished to savor our prey, we sat down and ate a full feast, starting with their annoying tongues.

I needed to calm myself. My anger wasn’t at them, but the fact that I was even here. I’d truly fought against it yet had been given no choice.

“You will obey.”

“Of course, my queen,” I replied to the only person I ever paid obeisance.

At least the media had made an appearance. I’d harbored doubt when I’d had my minions contact the various media outlets. But they came. They would soon be happy they did. My forthcoming announcement was momentous, even if they didn’t realize it yet. With my next words, I would change the world as they knew it, make history, and if lucky, I would create a decent amount of panic—an entertaining perk to the whole affair.

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