Blood Lovers (American Vampires #1) Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: American Vampires Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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That’s how I usually come in. I don’t think anyone at this resort has ever seen me drive a truck. So I’m sure they are having a good gossip about me right now. Probably on the phone with Echo—Paul’s new favorite halfbreed pet—telling her all about how I just came in.

I don’t care. I already told him I was with a woman. Not that I have to. But if we hadn’t had that conversation in my dreamwalk, I would probably have let him know. I would not call Paul jealous. That’s kind of a laughable thought. He just doesn’t like surprises. And having one of Lucia’s halfbreeds call him up to let him know I had just walked in to the resort holding the hand of a human woman would count as a surprise if he wasn’t already aware that I was with someone.

And then he would show up. Would start being possessive. Or probably want to share. And… we probably would. Because no one is capable of resisting his charms. It’s just not possible. If he wants you, you’re his.

I should know.

And even though I hate him—and I do hate him—I’m stuck with him. He and I are just a thing. There is nothing more to say about it. I try to stay away, and I do a pretty good job at it because he helps me stay away, always giving me jobs to do that keep us at a distance. And he does this not for himself, of course—if he had things his way, I’d be tied to his bed twenty-four seven—but for my sake because he knows I don’t want to be near him.

He does things to me. He makes me act in ways I don’t want to. He affects me. And I want him when he’s close. I can’t help it. It’s just… how the blood lust is.

So he leaves me alone, mostly. Our relationship happens over the phone—or in dreamwalks, lately—and not so much in person anymore. Unless he’s feeding me, of course.

My mind begins to drift back to the feeding he recently gave me and the way he keeps asking me if I’m feeling OK, and I’m just about to think a little harder about this when I glance at Syrsee. “Oh, my God. What are you thinking about?”

“What?” She looks up at me, surprised, her eyes wide and full of… what is that emotion?

We’re outside now, making our way to the cabin that is always ready and waiting for Paul or me, should we happen to show up, but I stop walking in the center of one of the little wooden bridges that pass over a burbling stream. “Are you OK?”

“Sure. Why? Yes. I’m fine.”

“Syrsee.” I kinda chuckle. “You look… terrified.”

“What? No!” She scoffs. “I’m not… that’s dumb. I’m just…” She looks around. And although there is a lot to see from this particular vantage point—the steam coming up off the heated water, the mountainside covered in snow, the stars above us, and the glowing lights of cabin windows dotted across the slope—she’s not admiring the landscape. She’s… buying time.

I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say.

This ensuing silence forces her to come up with an explanation. “Sorry. It’s just… this is all…” She pans her hand outward. “It’s a lot.”

“It is.” I do agree with that. “But… we don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. We can go home—”

“Home?” She scoffs again. “We don’t live in White River, remember? And weren’t we eloping?” Her teasing tone is back. A little. Not like it was earlier, but she forces herself to relax her shoulders.

“Yeah. But, you know, in theory.”

“Hedging your bets with me already, huh?” Now she’s smirking at me, so whatever was bothering her a moment ago has been adjusted or put aside.

“Not even a little bit.” I squeeze her hand and bring her with me as I resume walking. And then I’m smiling again. She makes me happy for the very reason I explained to her earlier.

Childhood friend. If she was born ninety-three years ago.

I’m kind of jealous of her best friend. The one who came up with the ‘foxhole in Nam’ analogy. I’m stealing it. Syrsee is now and forever the girl who pulled me into a foxhole.

And it just makes me happy.

“This is your place, right?”

I look down at her as we start up the steps that lead to my cabin. “It’s my boss’s place. But I helped him build it so I’m welcome here anytime. I’m not a secret billionaire, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

She smiles big, not meeting my gaze now. “Dammit. I was hoping.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Now we’re at the top of the stairs and there’s nothing left to do but open the door to the cabin.

I do that and the lights come on automatically, transforming the dark room into something warm, and cozy, and right out of a fairytale. The room is big. This cabin is much bigger than the others, pretty much the size of a house, with two master bedroom suites, a loft on the second floor, and an elaborate back yard that qualifies as a resort in and of itself.


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