eBook Details

The Glass Coffin

Series: Kiss Me at Midnight
By: Megan Derr | Other books by Megan Derr
Published By: Less Than Three Press LLC
Published: Jan 16, 2013
ISBN # 9781620041598
Word Count: 7,700
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Available in: Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.mobi), Adobe Acrobat

Categories: Romance>Vampires Romance>Paranormal/Horror Romance>GLBT>Gay

Description
On the eve of the new year, Rostislav is summoned to a museum to examine a legendary artifact: the glass coffin from a notorious legend about a vampire who fell in love with a human—a legend as false as Rostislav knows the coffin to be, because everyone knows that vampires don't fall in love with their prey.
 
Reader Rating:  starstarstarstar (4 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating:   lipliplip
Excerpt:
Rostislav stepped into the museum, grateful to escape the cold. He brushed snow from his coat and almost wished he was home, where they were so close to the beach that snow was a non-entity. He and Johnnie could go out somewhere—

And no doubt run into the last person—vampire—that Rostislav wanted to see. He flushed as memories he wanted badly to forget rushed over him again, and shook them away only with a great deal of effort. He drew in a deep breath and let it out through his nostrils. No, home was definitely the last place he wanted to be right then. Even if avoiding it meant putting up with snow.

Trying to shake off his gloomy mood, Rostislav left his coat, scarf, hat, and gloves with the woman at coat check, then strode up to the reception desk and smiled at a receptionist who appeared to be juggling at least fifteen things at once. “Good afternoon, my name is Rostislav Pajari. I’m here to see Dr. Milton Charles.”

“Yes, sir,” said the man behind the desk, giving him a polite if distracted smile. “I’ll call him up to get you, just one moment, please.”

“Thank you,” Rostislav murmured, and faded off to give the man some space. He killed time waiting by poking through racks of brochures and pamphlets, amused as ever by the things that fascinated normals. He chuckled over a pamphlet advertising a special History of Werewolves tour and flipped through it briefly, half-tempted to leave it where werewolves would see it just to set them off. He tucked it back in the rack and noticed a flyer for the museum’s annual New Year’s Eve Ball.

All the knots in his stomach that he’d worked so hard to get rid of returned with interest. How had he forgotten that he was due to go to Jesse’s New Year’s Ball? Was it too late to cry off? Probably, when it was being thrown by Jesse and sponsored by the Dracula Desrosiers.

He almost cheered in relief when someone cleared a throat behind him, and abandoned his tumultuous thoughts to focus on his job.

A rumpled, middle-aged man in rimless glasses smiled at him and offered a hand. “You’re Pajari? The one they call the Curse-breaker?”

Rostislav laughed as he shook the man’s hand. “Yes, that’s me, though the curse-breaker bit is a bit overdramatic.”

“I admit you were not what I was expecting,” the man said.

“Too young looking?” Rostislav asked.

The man shook his head. “No, actually. More … stylish and put together. Sorcerers and witches are normally a very distracted lot, and too many now do not have the family fortunes to back them as they once did. It’s a shame.”

“Ah,” Rostislav said. “I grew up around vampires, and still reside in Desrosiers territory. It rubs off.”

“I see. But, I’ve been rude. No doubt you’ve guessed it, but I am Milton Charles. Thank you for coming on such short notice. This way, I’m sure you’d like to see it straight off.”

“I can’t wait.” Rostislav followed him into an elevator, watched as Milton inserted a key and then selected a sub-basement floor.

Seeing him watching, Milton said, “I’m sure you’re not surprised to know we keep the abnormal section quite restricted. The museum director is a very old sorcerer and takes secrecy extremely seriously. We’ve also received generous donations from several demons and vampires, who have even higher standards.”

Rostislav looked at him with sympathy. “I’m impressed they’ve put an imp in charge of it all then, given how old fashioned demons and vampires can be.” Especially vampires, but he refused to let the bitterness of that thought ruin his mood further.

Milton shrugged and smiled. “I’ve only been in charge the past three years, and I really only got the job because they had no other choice at the time. I like to think I’ve more than proven myself … but as you say, they are old fashioned so who knows. But, that is hardly your problem. You are here to see our find! Right this way.” He stepped out of the elevator as the doors opened and led the way down a poorly lit hallway.

There was so much magic pouring off the walls that Rostislav’s skin prickled. He always thought of Johnnie when there was strong magic, because Johnnie would have been reduced to a sneezing fit by it. The thought almost made him smile, but thoughts of Johnnie invariably led to thoughts of vampires, and Rostislav was more than a little sick of vampires at present. “I could hardly refuse when you said you found the glass coffin.”

“We cannot believe it,” Milton replied, smiling like a boy. “But there it was, part of the old Belham Estate. Wasn’t listed on any of the documentation, so when it was discovered …” If eyes could actually sparkle from excitement, Rostislav had no doubt Milton’s would.

“I can’t wait to see it.”

Milton unlocked a door, and then pressed his hand to it, deactivating a spell. More magic poured over Rostislav as he entered the room, so much of it—and all of it so powerful—that it stung slightly. Strangely, he could feel demon magic in the wards. That must have been expensive. But, the museum apparently was generously funded and Milton had said secrecy was important.

“Here it is,” Milton said softly, and flicked on the lights.

Despite himself, Rostislav was impressed. As the old stories always said, the coffin was beautiful—so beautiful it was easy to forget that it was a coffin and not simply an ornate case to protect something priceless. The base was of pearly white glass, with whirls of gold and silver deep within. It was not quite as wide as two people shoulder to shoulder, and most of it was covered by a thin mattress of dark blue velvet. Over the mattress was a dome, the glass so clear and perfect that it was nearly impossible to see. All around the base were glass roses of every conceivable color, shining in the fluorescent lights above.

The only thing missing from the coffin was the bespelled woman, but Rostislav had not expected her to be there. He hadn’t expected the coffin either, though, because as beautiful as it was, as perfect as it was, the coffin was fake.

The Glass Coffin

By: Megan Derr
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