Faerie Godmother: Mythic Series, Book 1 Read Free

so to remain upright and moving required some effort. When he arrived at the threshold, he tripped.
    Kristoff gasped audibly, and Vlane couldn’t blame him. Vampires didn’t trip.
    He turned, a look of surprise on his face, and smiled. “Did you see that?”
    Both vamps nodded, completely at a loss to explain it.
    They followed Vlane into the kitchen area, watching in stunned silence as he began to root through various cupboards in search of something to assuage the unfamiliar gnawing pain in his belly. Vamps, as a rule, did not ingest anything besides blood, but they usually kept something on hand for their voluntary mortal “guests”. There was a decent variety of foods — salty, sweet, tart, and so forth — to satisfy every possible craving. While vampires could not eat the food themselves, they could get a taste of what they desired in the blood of one who could.
    “I have often wondered...” Vlane murmured as he pulled various jars and boxes and placed them on the counter. Armand and Kristoff watched in stupefied awe as Vlane crafted himself a sandwich, slathering half an inch of peanut butter on one slice of bread and an equal amount of strawberry jam on the other. Kristoff swallowed hard when he saw Vlane take a bite of the sandwich and chew.
    “Oh. My. God,” Vlane said, his words muffled by the food in his mouth, but the look on his face was plain enough to see. Pure bliss suffused his features; his eyes rolled back in his head momentarily as his lids closed. He chewed several times, then grabbed a jug of whole milk to wash the sandwich down.
    “What is it like?” Kristoff asked, his voice barely above a whisper, all traces of his former arrogance gone as he looked on longingly.
    Green eyes sparkled back at him. “Nirvana,” Vlane mumbled through the mouthful before stuffing the rest of the PB&J into his mouth and immediately searching for something else to eat.
    * * *
    A na was exhausted, but her charges would not be denied the opportunity to sniff, lick, nuzzle, and rub against her upon her return. It was their way of ensuring she was still Ana, and that everything was right in their world.
    And it was their world...well, mostly. The remote property, with its state of the art veterinary facilities, had been constructed with animals in mind, not humans. Built by the dominant local pack of Werewolves to care for the special needs of shifters, the massive structure was designed for the pawed, clawed, and hooved, both magical and non-magical alike. At its heart, it was a medical facility, but it also served as a boarding house and sanctuary as well.
    As the current live-in caretaker and practicing veterinarian while the pack healer was away, Ana had modest living quarters: a small, cozy bedroom, functional kitchen, full bathroom, and “living” area. The small suite ensured someone was available at all hours of the day or night, which was a definite plus when dealing with the shifters, who tended to sustain more injuries than most other species during “off” hours.
    Ana loved them all, and was grateful the Were pack trusted her enough to care for them. She felt more comfortable around them than pure-blooded humans. Here she could be herself (mostly). Those who possessed an animal nature were more likely to live by their instincts and basic needs than getting caught up in so many of the worthless, petty things regular people did.
    And, like many of the strays who made this their home, Ana had nowhere else to go.
    After checking on them and ensuring they were all doing well, she took a quick, hot shower, donned a well-worn, oversized nightshirt, and climbed into her big, comfortable bed. She still had a couple of hours before her first scheduled appointment of the morning.
    It had been a long night. After fleeing the Masterson Estate, Ana had taken cover in the woods outside of town, half expecting someone to come after her. Leading any danger back to the Sanctuary was the last thing she wanted to do.