Title: The Vampire’s Witch
Series: The Realm of the Vampire Council
Author: Damian Serbu
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 04/19/2021
Length: 98500
Genre: Pararnormal, LGBTQIA+, Established couples, vampires, witches, college, reunited, grief, men with pets, dark, ghost, immortal, magic
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Description
The Vampire’s Witch welcomes readers back to the world of vampires, witches, and magic.
Jaret Bachmann’s life spins out of control after a handsome stranger saves him from an attack along the bike path on Lakeshore Drive. His estranged high school sweetheart stalks him, the enraged ghost of his ancestor destroys his family, and his bike path savior-cum-lover abandons him after learning Jaret is a powerful witch.
A horrific family tragedy sends Jaret into deep depression. Struggling to find his way afterward, Jaret searches for comfort in the unlikely friendship of a secret vampire community.
Over time, Jaret’s friendship with the vampires strengthens and he forges a new family connection with Xavier, Thomas, and Catherine. But he and Anthony are estranged, and though their souls are entwined, their hearts are another matter.
Xavier, Thomas, Anthony, and Catherine return in this, the third book in The Realm of the Vampire Council series and a sequel to The Bachmann Family Secret.
The Vampire’s Witch
Damian Serbu © 2021
All Rights Reserved
19 April 2010
Chicago, Illinois
Jaret sat recovering near the pedestrian path when his senses tingled. A slight ache crept into the back of his head, and his witch instincts told him to get up and run. Too late, he looked up and saw a long-haired gentleman strolling toward him, smiling.
Jaret had better presence of mind this time to grab the ruby necklace and clutch it as the guy came over, still grinning. “May I?” he asked and pointed to a spot on the lawn next to Jaret.
Jaret hesitated, glanced around, but nodded. His senses shifted from fear to lust. This guy was hot, whatever his intentions.
“I think this is yours.” The guy handed Jaret his iPod, wallet, and other belongings as he sat.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Sorry about the assholes. I’m glad I came along when I did.”
Jaret nodded, unsure what kind of conversation to engage, wondering if the dude wanted to protect him or put a spell on him. The ruby necklace tingled in Jaret’s hand, without giving off serious alarm—more like a mild warning of something a little off.
“Did you find the other two? I mean, and—” Jaret had no idea how to finish the sentence. He wanted to continue with “string them up in a tree.” No, he decided against the truth. The truth might bring Jaret’s sanity into question. Or worse, expose the guy as a witch and thus force him to attack Jaret too.
“And hang them in a tree?” the man spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. Like people hung from trees without their pants on all the time. “Yes.”
No other explanation.
The absurdity of the scene hit Jaret full force, and he started laughing. Near hysterical, losing his breath, the laughter forced him onto his back as he clutched his side. He choked when he thought of the dude swaying in the wind, utterly humiliated as his pecker hung out there. Asshole. Plus his laughter was harder in reaction to the extreme fear that had peaked and now flooded out of his body. He had to laugh or risk crying.
His savior found something funny, too—maybe Jaret’s laughter—and laughed along with him.
“Good. That’s awesome,” Jaret said.
When he calmed, Jaret checked out the man as he smirked while watching people. Jaret became completely self-conscious. The guy was stunning and totally beautiful. Tall, with gorgeous wavy blond hair falling to the middle of his back, he had steel-blue eyes. And ripped—as in muscles—a powerful guy right out of a porno flick.
Any sense of danger passed, even though Jaret’s stomach turned into another knot. The ruby necklace stopped buzzing in his hand. Jaret saw the guy’s Rolex and diamond earrings. He appeared older, like in his late twenties or early thirties, so he had a real job. A good real job.
“Are you okay?” the guy asked when Jaret quieted.
“Yeah.”
“May I take you to the water fountain and help you clean up? It’s right there.” He pointed a few yards away, still close to other people.
“That’s a good idea.”
Jaret followed like a puppy as they went to the fountain. Once there, Jaret first swallowed a big drink of water and then cleaned his elbow. The wound stung, but he sighed in relief. Without the dirt and dried blood, the damage proved less an injury than he first thought. Jaret splashed some water on his other arm and then brushed off his clothes as best he could.
He didn’t realize he had dirt on his face until he heard, “Here, let me help.” Jaret stared at his biceps as the hotty cleaned and wiped his face. Jaret glanced down the hard chest in front of him, intoxicated by the brush of his firm hand across his cheek. This touch sent another wave of feeling through Jaret, more absolute desire. The guy smiled at him when he finished. “That’s better. I thought a handsome young man lurked under all the grime.”
Jaret blushed.
“Do you want to sit for a minute?” He pointed to a nearby bench.
Jaret nodded and led the two of them back to the grass, farther from prying ears on the bench.
“So, uh—thanks again.” Jaret held up his iPod. “Really. You a cop or something? I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come along.”
“Good thing you don’t need to worry about what would have happened. And no, I have no connection to law enforcement. I was merely enjoying an evening walk. Fools. Too macho for their own good.”
“Did you strip them to emasculate them?”
This time the stranger laughed. “I suppose to humiliate their masculinity.”
“How will they get down?” Jaret asked.
The guy shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Don’t care. Do you?”
Jaret thought for a moment, and then he shook his head.
“Good.” One of those powerful hands patted Jaret on the back. “Because they deserved what they got. They’re lucky to be alive.”
What did he mean? Jaret decided to leave the idea alone. He’d already dealt with enough weird shit for the evening. Well, maybe. But he also had questions. He really had to find out if another witch sat next to him.
“So, how’d you get them up there?” Jaret asked. “You know, put those guys up in the tree?”
He smiled and pointed to his arm.
Wow. So hot. Jaret almost stopped himself from saying anything, lest his words sound confrontational. But he needed to know the truth. “Um, hanging people in a tree takes more than just muscle strength.”
“Not really. I suppose they looked higher up to you because you’re short.”
“I’m not that short. Or delusional.”
“Sometimes my strength surprises me. Adrenaline takes over. I get irate when people victimize the innocent. I just snap, and before I know what hits me, someone’s hanging precariously from a tree.”
“Clear up in a tree with the birds.” Jaret squinted at him.
He just laughed again. Okay, so the dude didn’t want to answer. Cool. Jaret thought he better keep his distance. On the other hand, his hormones beseeched him not to walk away too fast. So he just sat there.
“Why did they attack you?”
“I ran into one of them by mistake.” Jaret contemplated going into the long sordid story but skipped the details. “And maybe because I’m gay.” Jaret’s heart beat harder, still afraid in the initial moment after coming out to someone.
“They love to target us, don’t they? Can’t deal with their own masculinity. So somehow coming after gay people makes them feel better.”
Us. He had said us. Oh my god, he’s gay!
“By the way, my name is Anthony.” He held out his hand.
“Jaret.” They shook hands and held them together for a moment before Anthony released Jaret. Whoa, was this guy hot and chivalrous. Jaret swooned.
“Pleased to meet you,” Anthony said. “Would you like to continue your walk? I could accompany you.”
Jaret wanted to stay with Anthony because of the infatuation and because he still desired to know how the big bad football players had ended up in the tree. Yet Brady must be worried to death by now. As if on cue, Jaret’s phone belted out Mika’s “Billy Brown.”
“Excuse me.” Jaret grabbed his phone. Anthony stood and walked a few feet away.
“Where the fuck are you?” Brady slurred. “I’m getting snookered alone. Sad. Very sad.”
“Hey. Something came up. I can’t make it tonight.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Great. I’ll fill you in tomorrow. Or later tonight. Okay?”
“Sure. I’m headed downtown to meet everyone before I become the poor lonely fag drinking his sorrows away.”
Jaret laughed and said goodbye. Now, what to tell Anthony?
“Do you have somewhere to be?” Anthony asked.
“No.” Jaret shook his head. “I’m not going. Just some friends hanging out at a bar. I think I’ll just walk for a while.” He motioned down his soiled clothes. “I’m not very presentable anymore, after what happened.”
“May I join you?” Anthony asked. Such a gentleman. “You look presentable to me.”
Jaret’s heart leapt. “Sure.”
They walked in quiet for a long time, past Belmont and toward the city.
Jaret’s mind raced a mile a minute. First he calmed himself about the attack. The fight frightened him, and then totally pissed him off. He cursed himself for being too slow with his jewels and for failing to watch his surroundings. Being so careless would never happen again.
As if that wasn’t enough, along came his hormones. One second he wanted to jump Anthony’s bones; the next he remembered he was in a committed relationship with Steve—even if things had gotten rocky lately. He had every intention of breaking up with Steve, who had taken to putting football above his boyfriend. Jaret decided to exercise caution around Anthony, who had strange powers but refused to admit them. Still, he acted the perfect gentleman the entire way.
“Come over here.” Anthony wrapped his arm around Jaret and guided him off the path and toward the lake. Still plenty of people about, despite the late hour. Anthony sat on a ledge overlooking Lake Michigan. Jaret watched a barge when Anthony pointed to his right. “It’s a great view of the city.”
Jaret peered at the skyline reflecting back at him. “My favorite’s the John Hancock Building.”
“Mine too.” Anthony jumped to his feet. “Come on.” He held his hand out to Jaret and pulled him to his feet. “I have an idea.”
Anthony hurried them toward Lakeshore Drive and took a pedestrian tunnel under to a side street where he could hail a cab. Against his wiser judgment, Jaret hopped in with him. “The Hancock,” Anthony told the driver.
Before long, Jaret sat in the Signature Room on the 95th floor of the John Hancock Building, with a perfect view of the city, compliments of the hundred dollar bill Anthony slipped the maître ‘d. Went with the Rolex, Jaret guessed.
Jaret’s mixed feelings about Anthony became clearer. He had studied Anthony and asked the ruby in his pocket for an evaluation. The gem couldn’t give him definitive answers, but the magic could give him a general feeling about anyone.
Anthony posed no immediate danger. He liked Jaret, possibly in the same way Jaret liked him. He had a protective aura about him. Despite the show of strength and evasiveness about his aptitude, Jaret trusted him with his personal safety—much like he’d felt with Steve until the last few months when Steve’s actions became unpredictable. Jaret adored the sense of safeguarding offered by a powerful man, and Anthony fit the profile.
Anthony sat across from Jaret with perfect posture, his already tall frame made even more striking by his presence and long blonde hair. He acted like the superrich businessmen portrayed on television.
“What do you do for a living?” Anthony asked while they waited for their drinks.
Jaret longed for a chocolate martini. His nerves had rattled a little when he had a moment in the bathroom stall to contemplate his close call with mortality, or at least mortification. Until that point, he had mostly lost himself in Anthony’s presence. Yeah, a drink would be great.
“Do for a living?” Jaret giggled when Anthony arched his eyebrow. “Oh, work. Nothing. I mean, college. I’m still in college.”
Anthony nodded. “Studying?”
“History.”
Anthony asked several other questions about Jaret’s studies. Jaret answered, excited someone took an interest in his academic pursuits. Steve always acted so put out if Jaret launched into some intellectual inquiry. “I want to go to graduate school.”
“A noble endeavor.”
Anthony sounded so aristocratic or even seventeenth century. “What do you do?” Jaret asked.
“A number of things. I’m primarily in finance. I work at night and sleep all day.”
Jaret sensed the avoidance again. “Interesting. Like stocks and stuff?”
“Pretty much.” Anthony ran his finger along the rim of his glass. He even had sexy fingers. “Rather boring.”
Jaret wanted to say his job must be lucrative as he glanced at the Rolex. Nah, poor taste to ogle over the watch. Instead, he took another sip of his drink.
They moved to other topics, such as hobbies and favorite music. Jaret kept his love for Mika controlled so as not to sound like a total freak. Anthony said he had no family, but a lot of friends who more than made up for it. Jaret told Anthony about his sister, Jenn, his closest friend in the world.
A couple more times Anthony shied away from a subject or line of inquiry. He never got angry or defensive, but issued vague statements or steered the conversation artfully away. His dodging piqued Jaret’s curiosity.
They chatted amicably until Jaret thought of the LGBT history exhibit at the Chicago History Museum. He told Anthony about the display. “Do you ever come out through the day? Because the museum’s only open during the day and you really should check it out.”
Anthony called for the waitress and ordered a second round. This time, however, the sparks practically lit the room on fire as Jaret’s magic picked up on Anthony’s unwillingness to answer the question.
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Damian Serbu lives in the Chicago area with his husband and two dogs, Akasha and Chewbacca. The dogs control his life, tell him what to write, and threaten to eat him in the middle of the night if he disobeys. He has published The Vampire’s Angel, The Vampire’s Quest, and The Vampire’s Protégé, as well as Santa’s Kinky Elf, Simon and Santa Is a Vampire with NineStar Press. The Bachmann Family Secret is scheduled for release July 2020. Keep up to date with him on Facebook, Twitter, or at www.DamianSerbu.com.
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