Read Online The Vampire Christopher by Rashelle Workman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rashelle Workman
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been for the past fifteen and a half years. Sure , I’d had sleepovers with all seven brothers in the past, but still… I’d never felt such lustful cravings or been so wanton as I was with Chace aka Christopher . He’d brought out feelings in me… needs I hadn’t realized I’d been missing . At the thought of him touching me, kissing me, whispering tenderly to me, my belly fluttered, and I groaned.
“I don’t have time for this,” I grumbled, rinsing off, and getting out of the shower.
I dressed in faded jeans, a red Ed Hardy t-shirt with a dragon slithering across the front , and my Converse . In the full-length mirror near my closet, I noticed several bruises on my neck , and s tepped closer for a better look . In the center of the bruises were twin marks closed over by scar tissue.
No one had been able to see marks after Christopher bit me the first time , but I wasn’t so sure about the bruises. Going to my dresser , I pulled open t he top drawer, and took out a silk and cashmere scarf in baby blue . My dad and stepmother gave it to me for Christmas last year because they said it matched my eyes. After wrapping it around my neck several ti mes so the bruises were hidden, I stared at my reflection .
“Today is going to be a regular day .” I snorted. It couldn’t get any weirder. I’d become a blood drinking supernatural creature for crying out loud. “Ugh! Come on, kitty,” I grumbled, o pening my bedroom door . Gatsby stretched, jumped off my bed, and followed me downstairs.
As I entered the kitchen, a brief knock sounded at the back door, followed by Heathcliff, Bart, Gabe, and Dorian . They were a breath of fresh air, full of exuberance, and raw energy.
“Hey, Snow,” Dorian said, closing the door behind him.
Gabe carried a l arge book . He held it like its contents were leprous , and I had to grin . “Hi, guys.”
Heathcliff and Bart returned my greeting as they made themselves at home, rummaging through my fridge and cupboards, grumbling about how I had nothing good to eat . Bart started a pot of coffee , and Heathcliff, ever the responsible one, put some water on for my tea.
I quickly got Gat sby his kibble and so me water . When the cat was happily eating, I turned my attention to Gabe . “What ya got there?” I sat on a bar stool and swiveled closer.
He glanced around sheepishly before heaving the book on the counter . Moments before I saw the cover up close, I’d imagined it to be a book from Professor Pops ’ Museum of the Supernatural, and worried Gabe stole it. Turned out to be nothing mystical . Just a book of dresses by the designer, Vera Wang.
I was most definitely not a fashionista . On the contrary, I didn’t even really know what the word meant, only that Cindy used it a lot when show ing me clothes from her magazines, but I had heard of Vera Wang, and knew she was a big time designer.
Whoa!
“Professor Pops asked me to bring this to you so that you could go through it and pick out a dress.”
I laughed, uncomfortably. “A dress, for what?”
“Your birthday party, silly,” Bart said, pulling my hair .
“Dude,” Gabe yelled.
“Boys, chill,” I said, putting a hand on each of their chests. The individual beating of their hear t s momentarily distracted me. It didn’t make my mouth water, just caused me to pause.
Interesting, my inner voice said.
Focusing my attention on Bart, I asked, “Why do I need a fancy dress for my party?”
He snickered as he pulled an envelope from his back pocket, and handed it to me. “You’ve created a monster by allowing Pops to be in charge of your party, and there’s no turning back. Salvatore is taking three hundred of these to the post office as we speak .”
I took the envelope. Glancing at each of the boys, my emotions spiraled from curious, to concerned , to downright freaked. “What is it?” I asked, though I figured it was an invitation to my birt hday party. My hands shook as I turned the envelope over. S
“I don’t have time for this,” I grumbled, rinsing off, and getting out of the shower.
I dressed in faded jeans, a red Ed Hardy t-shirt with a dragon slithering across the front , and my Converse . In the full-length mirror near my closet, I noticed several bruises on my neck , and s tepped closer for a better look . In the center of the bruises were twin marks closed over by scar tissue.
No one had been able to see marks after Christopher bit me the first time , but I wasn’t so sure about the bruises. Going to my dresser , I pulled open t he top drawer, and took out a silk and cashmere scarf in baby blue . My dad and stepmother gave it to me for Christmas last year because they said it matched my eyes. After wrapping it around my neck several ti mes so the bruises were hidden, I stared at my reflection .
“Today is going to be a regular day .” I snorted. It couldn’t get any weirder. I’d become a blood drinking supernatural creature for crying out loud. “Ugh! Come on, kitty,” I grumbled, o pening my bedroom door . Gatsby stretched, jumped off my bed, and followed me downstairs.
As I entered the kitchen, a brief knock sounded at the back door, followed by Heathcliff, Bart, Gabe, and Dorian . They were a breath of fresh air, full of exuberance, and raw energy.
“Hey, Snow,” Dorian said, closing the door behind him.
Gabe carried a l arge book . He held it like its contents were leprous , and I had to grin . “Hi, guys.”
Heathcliff and Bart returned my greeting as they made themselves at home, rummaging through my fridge and cupboards, grumbling about how I had nothing good to eat . Bart started a pot of coffee , and Heathcliff, ever the responsible one, put some water on for my tea.
I quickly got Gat sby his kibble and so me water . When the cat was happily eating, I turned my attention to Gabe . “What ya got there?” I sat on a bar stool and swiveled closer.
He glanced around sheepishly before heaving the book on the counter . Moments before I saw the cover up close, I’d imagined it to be a book from Professor Pops ’ Museum of the Supernatural, and worried Gabe stole it. Turned out to be nothing mystical . Just a book of dresses by the designer, Vera Wang.
I was most definitely not a fashionista . On the contrary, I didn’t even really know what the word meant, only that Cindy used it a lot when show ing me clothes from her magazines, but I had heard of Vera Wang, and knew she was a big time designer.
Whoa!
“Professor Pops asked me to bring this to you so that you could go through it and pick out a dress.”
I laughed, uncomfortably. “A dress, for what?”
“Your birthday party, silly,” Bart said, pulling my hair .
“Dude,” Gabe yelled.
“Boys, chill,” I said, putting a hand on each of their chests. The individual beating of their hear t s momentarily distracted me. It didn’t make my mouth water, just caused me to pause.
Interesting, my inner voice said.
Focusing my attention on Bart, I asked, “Why do I need a fancy dress for my party?”
He snickered as he pulled an envelope from his back pocket, and handed it to me. “You’ve created a monster by allowing Pops to be in charge of your party, and there’s no turning back. Salvatore is taking three hundred of these to the post office as we speak .”
I took the envelope. Glancing at each of the boys, my emotions spiraled from curious, to concerned , to downright freaked. “What is it?” I asked, though I figured it was an invitation to my birt hday party. My hands shook as I turned the envelope over. S
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