Good & Dead #1 by Jamie Wahl Read Free Book Online

brain had stopped processing requests for new information.
    “Michael?” Bell sighed impatiently. “Will this help?”
    Suddenly her long limbs and ample curves morphed in front of his eyes.    She appeared to shrink and grow at the same time, to warp and unravel, and in an instant, there stood a short, scantily clad and large chested brunette covered in tattoos. 
    Michael stepped backward in surprise.
    “Less your type?” she asked in a voice riddled with emphysema.
    “How—how did you do that?” Michael asked in horror.    “Can all vampires do that?”
    “No,” she said with a deep smirk, “they cannot.    What do you know about vampires, Michael?”
    “Uhhh…” Michael held up his hands and made his best Bela Lugosi Dracula face.
    All the humor drained from her face.    She morphed back into her tall, luxurious self.    It was no less jarring than the first time.    She took one step toward Michael, and then suddenly she was standing right behind him.    Michael could have blinked and missed it.
    “Then you don’t know anything,” she whispered.  Her breath was cold on his ear.
    “Uhhh…No.    No I don’t,” Michael said, wincing as Bell’s breath tickled the hairs on the back of his neck.
    “Well, I don’t have time to tell you all about it,” she said, gesturing sharply to the taller man on the balcony. He only nodded, and turned his eyes back to the roofline.    “I’m just going to give you the basics,” She said, walking around to face him and adopting her bored tone once again. “‘Being a Vampire in My City 101.’ Do not tell any mortal. If you do, we will kill that person.  And probably you,” she added with a shrug.
    “I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Michael said, shaking his head and trying to think of a scenario in which he would want to tell anyone.
    “You will not attack during the day,” Bell said briskly, as though she had this list memorized. “Most mortals are under the impression that we cannot go out in the day, and we would like to keep it that way.”
    “I won’t — ” Michael said in horror.  “I can’t.  I can’t attack…” he said, his occasional southern accent making an appearance.
    Bell looked at him curiously for a moment.    “You’re a cute little thing, aren’t you?” she said, smirking.     She glanced around the room and paced like a cougar in a cage.   “You will.  You cannot survive without blood,” she looked at him and smiled darkly. “Give it 24 hours and you’ll attack.  I have no doubt about that.”
    Michael stared at the floor and tried, once again, not to vomit.  There was no way he would ever, ever kill anyone.  He would rather die.  But I don’t want to die .
    “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.
    “You will not make trouble for me.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Remember,” she said sternly, “it is easier for me to kill you than to put up with you.” 
    “Yes, ma’am,” he said.
    “Stop that,” Bell said firmly.
    “Yes — ” Michael nodded.
    “Do you have any questions?” she asked, coming to a stop with her hands on her hips.
    Michael had a thousand questions, but he didn’t want to ask any of them.    He was afraid of all the answers.    He stared at the floor for a moment and finally spoke.    “Can I undo this?    Is there a way to go back?” he asked, looking up hopefully.
    Bell’s mouth hung open for the briefest of seconds before two long, ivory white fangs descended to graze the soft red flesh of her bottom lip.  She appeared inches away from Michael’s nose. 
    “No,” she said in a deadly voice.
    Michael felt a piercing, paralyzing fear race through him.   He stood frozen, staring into her eyes, whose pupils dilated until they were two dark metallic voids on her snow white face.  At her sides her hands were ready to strike, her elegant fingernails lengthening into razor points.
    “I’m—I’m sorry,” Michael stammered, unable to break her gaze.