Once Burned (Night Prince, #1)

by Jeaniene Frost

Shock made my voice come out hoarse. “You’re Vladislav Basarab Dracul, former voivode of Wallachia, but over five hundred years ago, they used to call you Tepesh. The Impaler.” Vlad didn’t blink. “They still do,” he replied in a caressingly lethal voice, and then released me.

“Because you’re so special?” I couldn’t help but ask with open sarcasm. That grin faded and his expression became serious. “Because at points in my life, I’ve lost everything. This house, my other homes, the cars, planes . . . they’re my possessions, but anyone could own them. My body is the only thing that’s truly mine, so I don’t give it away as though it’s worthless.”

“Beautiful and diabolical. You make me impatient indeed to claim you.”

I can give you honesty, monogamy, and more passion than you can stand, but not love. That emotion died in me long ago, as I suspect you already know.”

“Show him, Vlad,” I said. His gaze changed from copper to bright, glowing green, and his smile bared teeth that now had two sharp fangs. A muscle ticked in my father’s jaw but his expression didn’t change. “Fancy contacts and novelty teeth don’t impress me.” “I didn’t think they would,” Vlad replied in a silky voice. “But that happens before I do this.” He levitated into the air, hovering several feet off the ground. Then flames erupted from his hands, first eerie blue, then orange, yellow, and red. They climbed up his arms, licked the edges of his long brown hair, and while their heat was palpable, not a stitch of fabric or a single hair on him burned. “I am Vladislav Basarab Dracul, born 1431 as a mortal, but reborn in 1462 as a vampire,” Vlad stated, staring into my father’s eyes. “And I am but one out of millions of vampires, ghouls, ghosts, and demons that live in secret among you.” Piling the drama on a little thick, aren’t you? I thought. Then a thud made my gaze swing to the right. My sister had fainted.

“Not Dracula,” I said with a faint smile as I turned around. “Vlad Tepesh, former voivode of Wallachia and the most arrogant, deadly, frightening man I’ve ever met.” His lips curled with disdainful amusement. “Compliments won’t sway me any more than the word please, Leila.” “You take those as compliments?” Gretchen was incredulous. “Of course.” His smile bared his fangs. “She named all of my best qualities.”