End of Book Five
The Last Vampire: Book Six
By R. A. Steffan & Jaelynn Woolf
ONE
“THIS ISN’T GOING to work, Rans.” I stared down at my body, plucking at the front of the loose caftan I was wearing over my red bikini. “I mean, what if I can’t figure out how to bring my clothing with me when I change back from mist?”
Ransley Thorpe, centuries-old vampire and current pain in my ass, raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Then you’ll be naked, presumably. And what a tragedy that would be.”
I glared at him from behind a pair of Ray-Bans. In many ways, this whole ‘being a vampire’ thing was taking some serious adjustment on my part. The sun hanging low over the ocean in the west felt like it was sapping the strength straight out of my muscles, and I was already experiencing the faint stirring of a blood craving —despite the fact that I’d tapped a tourist’s neck first thing this morning.
“Ha,” I said, not amused. “Seriously, though. What happens to the clothes if I lose them mid-transformation? Where do they go? Or... what if I mess up and somehow rematerialize with the clothes partway inside my body, instead of outside? I don’t want to end up like the victim of some sort of horrific transporter accident from Star Trek.”
Rans swallowed a sigh and crossed his arms. “I’ve no idea, and you’re over-thinking things, love. We’re not going back to the villa until you transform at least once, so if you’re that worried about it, go ahead and strip before you try. I’ve certainly no objection.”
The sand on the private beach south of St. John’s, Antigua was warm between my bare toes, and a gentle breeze moderated the heat of the late afternoon sun. Of course, it did nothing to cut the glare, which stabbed into my brain like a laser beam despite the sunglasses I was wearing.
This whole ‘Vampire 101’ project probably would have been easier for me if we’d waited until dark, but we had plans to head over to one of the more popular public beaches later so we could both feed. Additionally, Guthrie would be back sometime tonight or tomorrow, and if I were going to lose all my clothing in whatever sideways dimension was involved in vampiric transformation, I’d rather not have my long-lost grandfather around as an audience.
Honestly, between the two of us, Rans and I had traumatized the poor guy more than enough already.
“Okay,” I said, trying to mentally regroup. A quick look around confirmed that no one else had intruded on our private cove. And I supposed if they did, I could mesmerize them into forgetting they’d seen us, anyway. Fuck, this whole thing was going to take some getting used to. “Okay, so here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll try it first without any clothes. Then, just with the bikini bottoms. If that works, I’ll add the top, and finally the caftan.”
Rans shrugged agreeably.
My hunger was growing gradually harder to ignore, but I really wanted to get this over with before I dealt with it. “Next question,” I said, stripping off my clothes and tossing them aside on the beach, a piece at a time. “How do I actually do this? I mean... I have no clue what muscles to flex or what mental images to focus on—”
He ran his eyes over me appreciatively as I bared my skin to the pricking rays of the sun. “As it turns out, that part is honestly rather straightforward,” he told me. “Are you ready? Come here and stand in front of me.”
I did, thinking he was maybe going to lead me through some kind of vampiric guided meditation or something. For that reason, it came as a considerable shock when he cocked his right hand into a fist and swung it at my jaw instead. I jerked backward and let out a girly yelp of surprise... which was nothing compared to the surprise that came next, when my body poofed out of existence in the instant before his fist would have connected.
I floated in shock, vertigo threatening, as senses I barely understood rushed in to orient me in the absence of sight, hearing, touch, smell, and taste. Panic rose, but before I could properly succumb to it, I was corporeal again, crumpled on the beach in a tangle of limbs.
“What. The fuck,” I said, looking around in confusion.
Rans looked down at me from a couple of steps away. “Told you that part was straightforward.”
I snapped my jaw closed with a click and narrowed my eyes at him. “You... son of a...”
He raised both eyebrows in amusement, silently inviting me to continue.
“... medieval iron smelter,” I finished, scrambling upright and brushing the sand off my ass. “I can’t believe you took a swing at my head!”
That earned me a quiet huff of laughter, before he gestured toward my face. “It worked, didn’t it? And you even kept hold of the sunglasses,” he observed. “Well done.”
My right hand flew to the Ray-Bans. I’d forgotten all about them. As he’d said, they were still there... still blocking the worst of the glare as the sun sank toward the distant horizon. “Huh. That’s pretty wild.”
“Now,” he continued, “while it’s still fresh in your mind, concentrate on the jolt you felt right before you transformed. That’s the key. I’m afraid the threat of a punch to the face probably won’t work a second time, and I’d prefer not to have to up the ante any further than that to shock you into the change.”
“Seconded,” I agreed, poking at my memory of what had just happened. At its most basic, it had been a sudden, urgent need to be elsewhere. Closing my eyes, I brought that feeling to mind as vividly as I could—
At which point I transformed again.
This time, I didn’t panic right away. Being
