Leonardo di Caprio is a Vampire by Julie Lynn Hayes Read Free Book Online Page B

finding its own way out, tearing open his heart and rending it—painfully, agonizingly—into small pieces. Maybe he'd known it all along, and hadn't wanted to analyze the situation too closely, for then he would have to admit it to himself. Admit that he was indeed in love with his best friend. And afraid to lose him.
    "There you are."
    Fisher started at the familiar voice, having been unaware of his arrival, caught up as he was in his deep dark ruminations. In his defense, he did have his back to the house, so it was understandable that he hadn't seen him emerge, even if Hunter'd just startled him out of ten years of his life. He tried to still the wild beating of his heart, force his voice into some semblance of normality, before turning to face his friend. Having a mask was a godsend at that moment, as it hid all expression.
    "I was afraid you weren't going to come."
    As he'd suspected, Hunter was wearing the matching suit to Fisher's, with the pale blue vest and tie, although all blues were weak imitations of Hunter's eyes. The other difference between them lay in the masks each wore—Hunter's mask was a perfect copy of Leonardo di Caprio's face. Fisher arched his brows at the sight.
    "Didn't I tell you Leonardo is a vampire?"
    Fisher detected a smile in Hunter's voice, even through the cheesy mask. It was amazing how much he was drawn to someone who was so much his opposite in so many ways. Perhaps there was truth in the old adage that opposites attract. "Very funny," he managed to say in a voice which luckily did not crack or break. Good start.
    Hunter reached up, removing the mask of the never-aging movie star, baring his own beautiful visage. He was not smiling. In fact he looked decidedly weary. Fisher couldn't help but be concerned, in spite of what he'd just heard. In spite of the fact that perhaps he shouldn't care so much, not if Hunter had chosen Lana over him. Had there ever been a contest between them, or was that just wishful thinking on Fisher's part?
    "What's with you and vampires this year?" he asked, with a reasonable facsimile of a laugh. It sounded a little hollow to his ears.
    Hunter was moving toward him now, his walk a silken stride, and although he would have welcomed the relief of removing his own mask, Fisher kept it on. He was afraid of what his face might reveal. He wasn't sure what he would do should Hunter try anything with him—such as kiss him. Kiss him back, perhaps? What sort of solution would that be? But then Hunter was standing just before him and all thoughts went flying out the window as his friend took his hand. At first Fisher had the irrational thought that he was going to kiss it. First Hunter took a nip of the edge, then he brushed his lips along that same edge, as if to make up for the nip. He turned the hand over, and gently kissed the palm. His eyes had never once left Fisher's face. "Can you feel them?" Hunter asked, dropping his voice almost to a low growl, one which made Fisher tingle. "They're real. I'm serious. My fangs are real, Fisher. I am a vampire. I wouldn't lie to you. Ever."
    Mesmerized, Fisher stood without moving, as Hunter continued to kiss his palm, their eyes locked. And then he grazed his teeth across that tender flesh. Or rather, his canines. His preternaturally elongated canines. And still Fisher was confused.
    "It's so weird," Hunter was saying, as if they were having the most normal conversation in the world, "at first I thought I'd never get used to them. Or the diet…"
    "The diet?" Fisher echoed uncomprehendingly.
    "Blood. You know. The stuff that runs through your veins." He traced one of those self-same veins across Fisher's wrist with one finger, halting where it disappeared into Fisher's sleeve. "That's an impediment," he murmured. "You should take that off."
    "Take what off?"
    "The jacket. Here, let me help you."
    Fisher felt the hands as they seemed to come to life, swarming his body, pushing back the fabric until it fell from his arms. The