Sex in a Coffin (Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist) Read Online Free Page B

Devereux scooted a little toward the end of the booth and pulled me along with him. He rested his arm on the back of the cushions and draped his hand on my shoulder.
    “Sorry, Dev.” Laurence held his hands out in front to show he was no longer touching me. “I just couldn’t resist. Her blood is tantalizing.” He gave a wicked grin and turned his vibrant green gaze to me. “I am sorry, Doctor. And because Devereux will kick my ass if I don’t behave, I will – or at least as much as I can.”
    “Try harder,” Devereux said with a scowl.
    My blood is tantalizing? I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the evening with these two. If Devereux really wanted me to trust him, he was going to have to start telling me a lot more about the vampires he expected me to spend time with. Since I couldn’t count on them to behave in any conventional way, I was once again forced to face the fact that I might not be able to hang out in this new world. It just wasn’t healthy to have to be on guard all the time.
    No doubt all the vampires at the table picked up my fearful vibe, because their gazes locked on me.
    “So, Dr. Knight,” Elliott said, “we’ve been very excited to meet you. You know of course that Devereux has been waiting for your arrival for centuries.” He toyed with a large, ruby ring on his middle finger. It looked like one of those with a hidden compartment for poison. “I suppose that does put a lot of pressure on you. Talk about performance anxiety.”
    Performance anxiety? How about every-day terror?
    His eyes widened. “Anyway,” he continued, “Devereux tells us you counsel both humans and vampires. Quite frankly, I don’t know how you can stand to listen to all those sad, negative stories all day and night. Don’t you get overwhelmed? I could tell you stories that would curl your hair. Oh, wait.” He lifted a section of my hair. “Too late.”
    He and Laurence high-fived again.
    I focused on counting backward from one-hundred, so I wouldn’t have any stray thoughts.
    “That is a good question, my love. Do you feel depleted by the unhappy tales your clients tell?”
    Devereux really was patient with them. I was grateful he’d brought the conversation to something I could actually discuss. “No. I’m not burned out yet. I still enjoy the challenges of my work. I’m accustomed to human diagnoses and neuroses. Nothing about mortals really surprises me anymore. But vampires? Stress city.”
    Reality check: I’m sitting at a table full of vampires, talking about how stressful counseling vampires is.
    “Oh, my,” Lawrence said. “Diagnoses, neuroses. I just love when you speak psychology. It’s such a turn-on.” He fanned himself.
    “Excuse me, uh, Mr. Devereux?” said a throaty, female voice.
    We all shifted our attention to the bald woman resting a hip against the edge of our table. Her shiny scalp, along with the rest of her exposed skin, was covered with tattoos: colorful, mystical symbols and vampiric images. A rendering of two round dots dripping blood decorated the side of her neck. She might have had the biggest breasts I’d ever seen on a non-airbrushed woman, and the tiny bra-top she wore wasn’t likely to survive a deep breath. It was amazing she could even move in the skin-tight leather pants that completed her ensemble.
    Here we go again.
    It never failed. Whenever Devereux showed up at his club, or anywhere public, women couldn’t control themselves. They felt compelled to get close to him. Even he didn’t know exactly what caused the phenomenon: whether it was because he was a Master, and one of the older ones, or if it was simply his own specific energy. Or, more likely, his obvious attributes. I’d quickly gotten over any initial jealousy after noticing how cold – no pun intended – the encounters left Devereux. But, I did find it rude and annoying. On the other hand, if certain, suggestible women couldn’t help themselves... I knew how it felt to be