The vampires sunny sweet.., p.1
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The Vampire's Sunny Sweetheart, page 1

 

The Vampire's Sunny Sweetheart
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The Vampire's Sunny Sweetheart


  CONTENTS

  About The Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Other Books By Kristen Painter

  THE VAMPIRE’S SUNNY SWEETHEART:

  Nocturne Falls, Book Fourteen

  * * *

  Copyright © 2022 Kristen Painter

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-941695-72-2

  * * *

  Published in the United States of America

  Welcome to Nocturne Falls, the town that celebrates Halloween 365 days a year. The tourists think it's all a show: the vampires, the werewolves, the witches, the occasional gargoyle flying through the sky. But the supernaturals populating the town know better.

  * * *

  Living in Nocturne Falls means being yourself. Fangs, fur, and all.

  * * *

  Sunday Wells comes from a long line of powerful witches, but that doesn’t explain why she’s plagued by dark shadows everywhere she looks. It’s not a great way to live, especially for a preschool teacher with young impressionable minds to watch over. Desperate to get control of her questionable powers, she gets help from the only reliable source she can think of. Her very powerful great aunt, Alice Bishop. But what Sunni finds out about herself will change everything.

  * * *

  Vampire Lorenzo Robillard has dedicated his life to rescuing kidnapped children. It’s dangerous work with high stakes, and Ren ends up with a lot of enemies. Like the European crime boss who’s currently after him. With a target on his back, Ren runs to the safest haven he knows, his distant great aunt, Elenora Ellingham. But his troubles are far from over, and not just because there’s a woman in his aunt’s house he wasn’t counting on.

  * * *

  Sunny and Ren clash like night and day. They’re so very different. And yet, so much alike. Love isn’t something either of them wanted, but the heart wields a magic neither of them can control…

  "For everyone who wanted more Alice."

  Lorenzo Ellingham Robillard exhaled as the chartered jet touched down in Montreal. Not home, but closer. The night sky was clear, the twinkling stars promising, but there was still a possibility that another obstacle might appear in his path. Ren couldn’t relax just yet.

  Thankfully, he was now only minutes away from delivering his precious cargo into the hands of the woman who’d hired him.

  Madeline Schuss, currently living under the alias Michelle Chastain, should be waiting for him in the hangar.

  He glanced at his knuckles. The mission had been mostly without incident. Only the faintest traces of the punches he’d thrown remained. Vampires healed quickly, but he hadn’t fed lately, and he was tired. Seventy-two hours without sleep so far.

  “Are we home now?”

  Ren glanced down at the little girl beside him and smiled. “Yes, peanut. We are.”

  “Can I take this hat off now?”

  “Not just yet.” He shook his head. Six-year-old Lizbeth Schuss was wearing a knit cap with blond braids attached to it, her own brown locks tucked up underneath. She’d had it on since he’d located her in Warsaw and taken her into his protective custody. Then the hat had been to disguise her. Now it was a protection against the chance that Wilhem Schuss, Madeline’s ex-husband and Lizbeth’s father, had men looking for them at the airport. “Better leave it on for a few more minutes.”

  “It’s itchy.” She frowned, the disappointment in her eyes surprisingly mature for one of her age.

  He dug a grape sucker out of his pocket and showed it to her, a blatant bribe, but candy rarely failed. “Look what I found. Do you know anyone who might want this?”

  She grinned, showing off her little fangs. “I do!”

  He handed it to her with a wink before looking out the window again. Wilhem Schuss was an old, powerful vampire who ran a good chunk of the paranormal crime syndicate in Europe. He had deep pockets and a vitriolic temper that bordered on manic.

  Ren was a vampire too, but he wasn’t as old or as powerful. Neither were his pockets as deep. But he had some borrowed magic on his side that gave him an edge. That strong magic allowed him to do things other vampires couldn’t, and that helped quite a bit in his work.

  It had even saved his life on several occasions, something for which he’d forever be grateful.

  He glanced down at Lizbeth, his precious cargo, and wondered if being taken by her father would leave any permanent scars on her. He hoped not. He wished her a happy, safe childhood from here on out.

  After her mother, Madeline, had divorced Wilhem and moved to London from their home in Warsaw, Wilhem had apparently been reasonable. They’d shared custody of Lizbeth, sending her back and forth between the two cities without incident.

  Then Wilhem had changed his mind. On Lizbeth’s last visit with him, he’d decided she should stay with him. Permanently. He’d sent word to Madeline that she would no longer be allowed contact with her daughter.

  Two months later, desperate and reeling, Madeline had contacted Ren. How she’d gotten his name was of no concern to him. The most desperate always did. Because recovering children, those with paranormal parentage to be specific, was what he specialized in.

  The plane taxied toward the hangar. Everything looked in order, but he wouldn’t feel any real peace until Madeline and Lizbeth were safely together once again and on their way to their new life.

  He watched the shadows for movement, scanned the surrounding area for suspicious cars or people, anything unusual that might trip his sixth sense. There was nothing.

  Inside the hangar sat a sleek silver SUV, windows tinted dark. Madeline would be inside, waiting. Once she and Lizbeth were reunited, they’d be driving directly to their new home in a town even he didn’t know. He wouldn’t know Lizbeth’s new name, either. It was better that way.

  Although the sun would be up in approximately five hours. There was only so far they could go before they’d be forced to seek shelter.

  As for him, it was time for him to lie low too. If Madeline could find him, so could Wilhem. But Ren wouldn’t stay hidden for too long. There would be new missions. New people who needed him. Parents missing their children. He’d only stay out of sight until things cooled off. How long that would be, he wasn’t sure.

  The plane rolled through the hangar doors. Ground crew immediately began closing the doors to the halfway point. Enough to give some privacy but still let Madeline’s car exit.

  The plane stopped. Within minutes, the hatch was opened, and the pilot gave them the okay to disembark.

  “Stay here for a moment, Lizbeth.” Ren unbuckled his seat belt and got up. From the overhead compartment, he took out his bolt gun, keeping it close by his side.

  He approached the door sideways, keeping the narrowest part of himself toward the opening. He scanned the hangar, including the ground crew.

  All clear.

  The rear passenger door of the SUV opened, and Madeline got out. She looked at him with hope in her eyes. “I wasn’t followed,” she promised.

  He nodded and glanced back at Lizbeth, bolt gun still at his side. “Come on, peanut. There’s someone waiting for you I think you’re going to want to see.”

  Lizbeth released her belt and jumped up, racing toward the door. She paused at the top step, eyes lighting up. “Mama!”

  Lizbeth hurtled down the stairs. Madeline scooped up her daughter, eyes pooling with tears. She hugged her child tight, kissed the top of her head, then quickly ushered her into the safety of the waiting vehicle.

  Madeline exhaled, composing herself as she took a medium-size padded envelope from inside her coat. She held the envelope out to Ren. “Thank you.”

  He took the envelope. It felt like more than cash, but he’d examine it later. “You’re welcome. Go now.”

  She nodded and got back into the SUV. It took off as soon as the door closed. He rolled his shoulders, watching the vehicle until the taillights faded. Then watched another few minutes just to be sure
no one followed them.

  Finally, he went back onto the plane. He disassembled the bolt gun, tucked it away in his bag, then slipped out of the hangar to walk to the rental car counters. In his head-to-toe black tactical gear, he disappeared into the shadows. Quite a distance from where he was, but a good way to make sure he wasn’t being followed either.

  At the counter, he secured a car from a bleary-eyed clerk drinking coffee. This would be the last time he’d use the alias Peter Morgan. He put down Peter’s ID, paid cash, signed the paperwork, and took the keys.

  He’d gotten a Camaro, a fast car that would make the five-hour trip to Rochester a little faster. He nodded at the car when he saw it. Black paint, tinted windows. It would do nicely.

  He settled in, locking the doors, then drove through the lot slowly, always watching. The place was empty. No other people. No other cars moved.

  At the gate, he paused and looked into the envelope Madeline had given him. The cash he’d requested to pay for his expenses. But there was a watch in the envelope too, along with a note. He flipped through the bills, counting quickly. Short by five thousand.

  The watch was a woman’s stainless steel and gold Cartier with diamond accents on the dial and a diamond bezel. Easily worth more than the remainder of what she owed him. He read the note.

  I couldn’t come up with all of the cash. I hope the watch suffices.

  Had he realized in the hangar what she’d done, he would have given the watch back to her. It wasn’t necessary. He would have forgiven the shortfall without a second thought.

  He tucked the envelope in the glove box and ran the drive-through at a Tim Horton’s for a large cup of black coffee, then settled in for the drive.

  Four hours and thirty-nine minutes later, with the sun beginning to brighten the horizon, he returned the car at the Rochester drop-off and called an Uber to take him the rest of the way. His current apartment was on Elm in an upscale building that had been lazily named 88 On Elm. The apartment was decent. Open floor plan, lots of floor-to-ceiling windows, two bedrooms, two baths, which was more than he needed, but he liked having room.

  His personal vehicle, a blacked-out Dodge Charger, was kept in the Midtown Garage nearby.

  He had the Uber drop him two blocks away. Probably an unnecessary precaution, but he was a creature of instinct and routine. He’d stayed out of trouble this long by doing things a certain way. He wasn’t about to change that no matter how well a mission had gone.

  The sun breached the horizon, but it was still early, and the streets had only begun to populate with citizens going to work.

  He walked quickly. A man in black tactical pants, black pullover, hood up, and dark sunglasses, carrying a black duffel bag, stood out a little at this hour among the suits.

  Inside the lobby of his building, he went straight to the elevator and tapped the call button. He got out on the seventh floor, constantly scanning for anything out of the ordinary. No strange smells, nothing added or subtracted since he’d last been here.

  He ran his key fob over the door lock. The soft snick of the lock releasing followed. With one last look down either side of the hall, he went in.

  The toe of his shoe sent something skittering. Paper. He closed the door, locking it behind him, then picked up the thing he’d kicked. A folded piece of paper with a few simple words on it.

  This isn’t over — W

  How the devil had Wilhem found him? Ren had no idea, but he’d work on that later. He shoved the note into the pocket of his hoodie. This was no longer a safe place to be. Despite being tired and in need of blood, he had to get out of town. But his usual hideouts might already be compromised.

  There was only one place he could think of to take refuge. A place where he could hide in plain sight. With his beloved aunt, a woman he hadn’t seen in years but kept in frequent contact with through letters. She was old-fashioned like that.

  He grabbed a bag of blood from the refrigerator, his go bag out of the closet, a supplement to the one already in his car, and headed for the parking garage. Apparently, he had another road trip ahead of him.

  Sunday Wells gave serious study to the lotions, bath gels, and body sprays lined up like soldiers in formation on the shelves before her. There were so many scents to choose from. And she loved a good scent. What a woman smelled like set the whole tone for how people perceived her, and Sunni like to be perceived in a very certain way. Happy. Nonthreatening. Bright.

  Not to mention that parents, especially, didn’t trust a preschool teacher who smelled like she was out to seduce someone. Her students, ages two through three, didn’t like strong artificial scents either. Over the last few years, she’d come to agree. Nothing wrong with smelling sweet and delicious, anyway.

  She liked to think all that sweetness helped balance out the rest of what was going on with her. Probably not even a little bit true, but it made her feel better. These days she clung to those small bubbles of optimism.

  She sniffed the testers, trying to make her decision. Was she feeling more Vanilla Cupcake or more Tropical Coconut Dream? Summer was fast approaching, although in Texas it was summer most of the time. Still, she’d be done with school in a week.

  Vanilla was a classic, but smelling tropical was never a bad direction to take in the warmer months.

  Then again, the Strawberry Lemonade Splash made her mouth water. But was that too close to the Key Lime Pie Spritz she already had at home? She had the Crazy For Cotton Candy set, too.

  She put all three fragrances into her basket. One of the lotion, bath gel, and body spray in each scent. It was a little extravagant, but they were buy two, get one free, plus she had a coupon and a gift card left over from Christmas. Also, she was headed out of town for an intensive, eight-week training stint that might keep her so busy she wouldn’t have time to pick up any later. Might as well get them all.

  Basket full, she went straight to the checkout line. By the time she’d reached the register, she’d only added three more things. A Cherry Bubblegum lip gloss with a hint of sparkle, a Sweet Vanilla Ice Cream sachet to tuck into her luggage, and a Peach Sorbet room spray.

  There was no telling what her room was going to smell like. Might as well get proactive about that now.

  Her next stop after the bath shop was the clothing store next door. She didn’t really need anything for her trip, but it never hurt to look. Or look one’s best. Plus there was an outfit on one of the mannequins in the window that had caught her eye: a pair of pink gingham shorts with a cute eyelet-trimmed white T-shirt that tied at the waist.

  She stood on the sidewalk gazing up at it. The outfit next to it was pretty cute too. The gingham sundress matched the shorts in pattern, but it was pale blue instead of pink and had the cutest gathered sleeves that looked like they could be worn on or off the shoulders. Not to mention it would be perfect with her favorite cowboy boots.

  She didn’t have anything like either of them, and they were both adorbs. She hoped the thirty percent off sign applied to everything.

  Because while her bank account wasn’t exactly overflowing, she also felt like she sort of deserved a couple of new outfits. Not only because she was traveling, but it had been thirteen days since her abilities had caused any trouble. Thirteen! That seemed like a milestone worth marking. It might have been the longest she’d gone in six months.

  Of course, that was what her upcoming training was all about. Learning to control—or possibly squelch—the powers she’d come into on her twenty-first birthday.

 
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