Scarlet Vamporium: Vamporium #2 by Poppet[vampire] Read Free Book Online

I kno' ye dae.”
    That was my first impression of Ellindt when I laid eyes on her, but it was just the dress, and she explained that.
    “Yer over reactin' Roddie. Let me go before someone hits on ma girl.”
    “Oh, so she's yer bird now, is she?”
    Not really, but he disnae need tae know that.
    He laughs, shoving me toward Andrea, “Och I can read ye too well Doug. If she is, I'm gonnae find out.”
    And with that Roddie bulldozes his way inside, leaving me stuck with my admirer and the lads.
    This isnae goin' the way I planned. No' at all.
    Andrea's sickly perfume chokes me again when she blocks my path, pulling Malcolm with her. “C'mon Dougie, get a lass a drink will ye!”
    My lass already had one from what I saw. I wish I'd been the first one tae get her on her knees. Bloody Woody beat me tae it.
    Laughing, I steal Alan's smoke, take a deep drag and hand it back. Squaring my shoulders I take off up the stairs like a Highlander after a Sassenach.
    *
     
    Ellindt:
     
    Following the melee and noise I wander into a crowded room with a mass of smoke hovering around the ceiling lights.
    Discovering the tub of drinks, I examine them, realizing they're all alcoholic. Choosing a brown bottle with a cute viking on the label, I try to open it. It's called a Skull Splitter and I'm wondering if you're supposed to open it that way.
    I rethink my choice, seeing McEwan's beer cans closest to the top of the pile. That's what Woody made me drink in the entrance.
    “Can I help ye with that?” says a deep baritone at my shoulder, his muscular arm reaching around me and grabbing the bottle out of my hands, twisting the cap off and offering it back.
    It's with a dry mouth and a tight heart that I take my drink from Roderick.
    “Thanks,” I mumble.
    I note he's taken his leather jacket off and his arms have muscles the size of my thighs. Jeez, what the heck does he eat?
    He catches my observation, saying with a rogue smile, “It's from the hammer throw. Ye cannae throw the hammer or caber unless ye have upper body strength, plus it helps if ye have thighs the size of menhirs.”
    Brag much?
    We've already got off on the wrong foot so I opt for polite, “Oh.”
    I take a sip of my ale as an excuse to not talk to him. It's surprisingly tasty, a bit like roasted caramel laced with treacle. Looking back at the label and the viking with his helmet on and big arms folded, for some reason it reminds me of him. He could so be on a bottle of strong dark ale.
    “Ye made a good choice there. Skull Splitter is way better than McEwan's if ye don't normally drink beer.”
    I nod, surveying the room. The band are playing some kind of jig and all the half inebriated are doing funny dancing to it, singing along, being bawdy.
    He leans his arm against the wall at my back, wrapping his enormous frame in an arc over my side, dipping his head to say in my ear, “It's sweet tasting.”
    Glancing at his face, he's much too close for comfort. He said that with a mountain of suggestion, as if implying I'd be sweet too if he tasted me.
    My heart beats a bit harder and I squirm a little way along the wall to get some breathing room.
    “So where are ye from?” he says. Staring at me with the predatory eyes of a falcon, he swigs his Skull Splitter.
    I'm sticking to the story my brother Seithe tells everyone. “Venezuela.”
    He has the grunge look mastered with his black shirt embossed with a maltese cross woven thick with Celtic knotwork, and the skirt above shin high Doc Martens. The laces in his shoes are red and match his kilt. I wonder if that's deliberate? He coordinates his shoes? I'm tempted to laugh.
    “Ye don't look Spanish,” says Roddie.
    Now I have to smile. “I look like my dad more than my mom. My dad has the blue eyes and light hair.”
    “Are ye here with them?”
    “No. They've both passed away. I usually live with my uncle but he got cross with me and sent me to my aunt for a good talking to. This is my punishment.”
    Lurching