Venice Vampyr

by Tina Folsom

  When he chanted her name, his body bathed in sweat, she added a third finger and pressed harder. His muscles clamped onto her and contracted as his entire body convulsed.

  She felt his orgasm to the last cell of her body, and it was the purest feeling she’d ever experienced from another person.

  As he stilled, she pulled herself up to him and kissed his lips. He breathed heavily, his eyes closed. “Isabella,” was all he said, but she knew what he wanted to say. He loved her.

  She planted another kiss on his mouth.

  “You whore! That’s how you drag my cousin’s name through the mud! If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would have never believed it!”

  Isabella’s heart stopped at the menacing voice she recognized instantly.

  Chapter Nineteen

  His body exhausted from multiple orgasms, shock coursed through Raphael as his head snapped to the intruder: Massimo. This was the worst possible scenario he could have ever imagined. He’d been too lust-drugged for his senses to register his enemy before it was too late.

  Now Massimo stood near the door, a gun pointed at him. And considering he was a Guardian and knew how to kill a vampire, Raphael was sure it was loaded with silver bullets.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw how Isabella had snatched the bed sheet and pressed it against her naked breasts. His own modesty was the least of his concerns now. He calmed his mind and tried to think the situation through. If he could stall Massimo long enough, either his brother or one of his friends would show up. If they’d continued tailing him as they’d done the nights before, they would be here soon. Very soon.

  “Massimo! What are you—?” Isabella’s question was a mere gasp.

  “My love, I think you should know something about your late husband’s dear cousin,” Raphael drawled and glanced at the man. “Would you like to explain it to her or should I?”

  “Please do,” Massimo replied with an evil grin. “It’ll be the last time you speak to your whore, so enjoy.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call her a whore. She’s my wife.”

  Massimo only snorted.

  “Isabella,” Raphael addressed her, “Massimo is here to kill me. I suspect he already tried a few days ago by pushing me into the canal.”

  “Alas, I can’t take credit for that. One of the other Guardians deserves that praise.”

  “What Guardians?” Isabella interrupted, her voice high pitched.

  Raphael kept his voice calm as he answered her, knowing her nerves were at the breaking point. “Massimo is part of a group of men who hunt vampires and kill them. Just as your late husband was.”

  Isabella gave him a shocked stare. “Giovanni? No! That can’t be. Giovanni was a good man. He wouldn’t kill anybody.”

  “Yes, he was a good man, that’s why he was one of us. A protector of the human race, a Guardian. Until they made him one of them. Until they turned him against his will.” Massimo’s voice was full of hatred. His jaw clenched tightly when he continued, “He came to me and told me what you monsters did to him, how one of you bit him and fed him vampire blood. He told me he’d continue fighting against your kind, but it wasn’t possible, of course.”

  “Oh God!” Isabella gasped. “Not Giovanni. Please, say it’s not true.”

  Raphael saw the tears building in her eyes as she looked at him. Would she hate him now for what his kind had done to the man she’d once loved? He searched her eyes for a sign that would tell him whether she would remain his. But her tears made it impossible to see beyond her immediate grief.

  “Yes,” Massimo droned. “He did that to you. He made you a widow.” He pointed at Raphael. “He took the man we loved.”

  “I did no such thing,” Raphael protested. “Yes, a vampire turned him, but it wasn’t I, and it was certainly none of our kind who killed him.” He took the gamble. If he was right in his assessment of Massimo, the man wouldn’t be able to resist the bait.

  “Killed?” Isabella echoed. “But he drowned.”

  Raphael nodded. “Yes, he drowned because he was vampire, and vampires don’t have any natural buoyancy. They can’t keep themselves above water. Just as I couldn’t.”

  “Yes, and Giovanni knew that,” Massimo interrupted. “He knew when I pushed him into the canal that he wouldn’t survive. He looked at me. He couldn’t believe that I’d done it, but he should have. He of all people should have known that I couldn’t let him live. He’d become a creature so vile, there was only one thing to do. He should have understood. I loved him like a brother. I did it for him.”

  A sob tore from Isabella’s chest. Raphael looked at her, but she turned away from him and let herself fall face down into the sheets, facing away from him. Had he lost her? Was this what this meant, that she would hate him now for what one of his brethren had done?

  “Isabella. I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Well, it appears all has been said.” Just as Massimo cocked his gun, Raphael’s sensitive hearing picked up the sound of the front door opening.

  “Wait.” He had to stall him just a few more seconds until help arrived. “At least tell me how you figured me out. I deserve that much, don’t you think?”

  Massimo chuckled, but it wasn’t a friendly sound. “Nothing easier than that. A servant told me that you nearly drowned in the canal. So I made inquires and found out that one of my fellow Guardians had pushed a vampire into the water that same night. It was easy to figure out from there that it was you. You might have escaped death once, but now, vampire, you’ll die.”

  A shot rang out the moment the door burst open. Raphael closed his eyes and steeled himself against the pain the silver bullet would inflict on him seconds before his life force would drain from his body.

  “I love you, Isabella,” he whispered his goodbyes as the shouts of his brother and Lorenzo filled the room.

  “What in hell?” Dante cried out.

  “Raphael!” Lorenzo called to him. “Are you all right?”

  Raphael opened his eyes. He felt no pain. “I don’t know.” Then his eyes searched for Isabella. She sat up, the sheet that had covered her breasts pooling in her lap, his gun in her hand, still pointing toward where Massimo had stood.

  “He’s dead,” Dante said. “Massimo’s dead.”

  “Isabella?” Raphael tried to get her attention. Finally she turned to him and ran a long look over his body.

  “I thought I was too late.” Then she threw herself into his arms—or rather, against his chest, since he couldn’t embrace her with his wrists still tied.

  “You saved me.”

  A clearing of throats made him snap his head toward his brother and Lorenzo. He gave them a scolding look. “And what took you guys so long? I thought you were following him.”

  “We were, but the crafty fellow tricked us with a decoy dressed just like him. We lost him. When we noticed, we had a hunch he’d go for either you or Isabella. And since we didn’t find either of you at Isabella’s house, we instantly came here,” Lorenzo replied.

  “And now that that’s cleared up, would you care to explain why you’re tied up in your own bed?” Dante grinned.

  “That’s between me and my wife.”

  Isabella raised her head, then pulled on the bed sheet to cover her naked torso.

  “Would you like me to untie you?” Dante offered.

  Raphael looked at Isabella and smiled. “That’s for Isabella to decide.”

  The sparkle was back in her eyes, the tears forgotten. Without turning to Dante, she answered, “I’m not done with him.”

  His heart skipped a beat at the underlying promise in her voice. “You heard my wife, Dante. So, if you would be so kind as to leave our bedchamber and take the body with you. My lovely wife and I have things to ... discuss.”

  Dante shook his head. “As I said before: a fool in love. A very lucky fool.”

  When the door closed behind Dante and Lorenzo, it was quiet again. All he could h
ear was Isabella’s breathing. “My angel, this is the second time you’ve saved me. I hope you realize that now my life belongs to you.”

  “And your body?” she negotiated.

  “My body was already yours long before that.” He kissed her gently. “Now untie me so I can hold you in my arms and thank you properly.”

  “Not yet. I want to ask you something first.”

  “Then ask.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Does what hurt?”

  “Your bite.”

  A hot flame shot through his body. Was she contemplating what he thought she was? “When I feed from a human? No, it doesn’t hurt. My fangs are coated with a substance that dulls the pain to a point where there’s none.”

  “The nights you left our bed, did you go out to feed from humans?”

  “Not every night. I only need to feed every three days. Why do you want to know all this?”

  “Do you want to feed from me?”

  His heartbeat doubled in an instant. “Oh, God, Isabella! I can’t think of anything I want more, except to make love to you. But you know you don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to.”

  Could he be so lucky? And if she allowed him this, would she one day allow him to turn her into a vampire so she wouldn’t age or die? So they could spend eternity together? His heart filled with hope for a happy future. Pulling on his restraints, he whispered, “Then get me out of these chains.”

  Isabella sat up, and suddenly her breasts dangled right in front of him. His mouth closed over one nipple and sucked on it. Isabella’s moan echoed in the room. He let the nipple pop from his mouth.

  “Quickly, my love.”

  As soon as she’d untied him, Raphael ripped her breeches from her body and brought her underneath him. She was slick with her arousal, a scent that teased his nostrils. “Thank you.” He slid into her with one smooth glide, seating himself balls deep in her tight sheath.

  Isabella tilted her head to the side in invitation. “Feed from me, my love.”

  His gaze drifted lower, away from the vein on her neck, down to her gorgeous tits. He hesitated. Then he sensed her watch him.

  “You want to feed from my breast?” she asked with surprise in her voice.

  “Only if you allow it.” He looked up and locked eyes with her. “Your tits are so perfect, so full and ripe, I can’t think of anything better than having my face buried in them when I take your blood inside of me.” He licked over her nipple. It stiffened in response.

  “Then do it. Nothing is taboo between us,” she repeated his own words from earlier.

  Slowly, his fangs descended, and he grazed her skin with them. He felt a shiver go through her body. At the same time as he pulled back his hips and pumped into her pussy, he sank his fangs into her plump flesh and sucked. The rich liquid coated his tongue, the taste and scent of it nearly making him delirious.

  As he fucked in and out of her warm and moist channel, he took her essence into his body. There would never be any other taste he wanted for the rest of his life than Isabella’s sweet blood.

  The End

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  Excerpt of Gabriel’s Mate, Scanguards Vampires #3

  The click-clack of her heels echoed against the buildings. Maya could barely see the pavement through the fog, which hung like a thick mist in the night air, amplifying every sound.

  A rustle coming from somewhere behind her made her accelerate her already hasty steps. A chill so severe it felt as if an icy hand had touched her skin went through her. She hated the dark, and it was on nights like these that she cursed her on-call duty. Darkness had always scared her and lately it did even more so.

  She opened her purse as she approached the three-story apartment building she’d been living in for the last two years. With shaking fingers, she fished for her house keys. The moment she felt the cold metal in her damp palm, she felt better. In a few seconds, she would be back in bed and get a few hours of sleep before her next shift started. But more importantly, shortly she would be back in the safety of her own four walls.

  As she turned to the stairs leading up to the heavy entrance door, she noticed the darkness in the foyer. She glanced up. The light bulb over the door must have burned out. A couple of hours ago it had been burning brightly. She put it on her mental list of things to tell her landlord.

  Maya felt for the railing and gripped it, counting the steps as she walked up.

  She never reached the door.

  “Maya.”

  Her breath caught as she spun on her heels. Engulfed in the dark and the fog, she couldn’t make out his face. She didn’t need to – she knew his voice. She knew who he was. It almost paralyzed her. Her heart beat into her throat in a frantic tattoo as fear inside her gut spiraled.

  “No!” she screamed and scrambled back toward the door, hoping against all odds she could escape.

  He’d come back like he’d vowed.

  His hand dug into her shoulder and pulled her back to face him. But instead of his face, all she could focus on was the white of his pointed teeth.

  “You will be mine.”

  The threat was the last thing she heard before she felt his sharp fangs break through her skin and sink into her neck. As the blood drained from her, so did the memories of the last few weeks.

  ***

  “And you’ve tried surgery already?” Dr. Drake inquired without looking up from his notepad.

  Gabriel released a frustrated huff and brushed an imaginary dust particle off his jeans. “Didn’t work.”

  “I see.” He cleared his throat. “Mr. Giles, have you had this …” – the doctor winced and made a nondescript hand movement – “uh … all your life? Even when you were human?”

  Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut for a second. After puberty, there wasn’t a day in his living memory that he’d not had this problem. Everything had been normal when he’d been a little boy, but the moment his hormones had started raging, his life had changed. Even as a human, he’d been an outcast.

  He felt the scar on his face throb, remembering the moment he’d received it and jerked himself away from the memory. The physical pain had long eased, but the emotional pain was as vivid as ever. “I had it long before I became a vampire. Back then, nobody thought of surgery. Hell, an infection would have probably killed me.” If he’d known how his life would turn out he would have taken a knife to himself, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty. “Anyway, as you probably know better than I do, my body regenerates while I sleep and heals what it perceives to be a wound. So, no, surgery hasn’t worked.”

  “I assume this has caused problems with your sex life?”

  Gabriel pressed himself deeper back into the chair opposite Dr. Drake’s, having ignored the coffin-couch with an internal shiver upon entering the practice. His friend Amaury had warned him about the doctor’s choice of furniture. Nevertheless, the coffin that had been fashioned into a chaise lounge by removing a side panel gave him the creeps. No self-respecting vampire would want to be caught dead in it. Pun intended.

  “What sex life?” he mumbled under his breath. But of course, the doctor’s superior vampire hearing assured the words weren’t lost to him.

  Drake’s shocked stare confirmed it. “You mean …?”

  Gabriel knew exactly what the man was asking. “Other than with an occasional desperate prostitute who I have to pay outrageous sums of money to service me, I have no sex life.”

  He dropped his gaze to the floor, not wanting to see the pity in the doctor’s eyes. He was here to get help, not to be pitied. Still, he needed to impress on the man how important this was for him. “I haven’t met a woman yet who hasn’t recoiled from my naked body. They call me a monster, a freak at best – and those are the kind ones.” He paused, shuddering as the memories of all the names he’d been called came rushing back. “Doc, I’ve never had a woman in my arms who wanted to be with me.” Yes, he’d fucked women
– whores – but he’d never made love to a woman. Never felt a woman’s love or tenderness, or the intimacy of waking in her arms.

  “How do you expect me to help you? As you said yourself, surgery hasn’t helped, and I’m only a psychiatrist. I work with people’s minds, not their bodies.” Drake’s voice was infused with rejection, every single syllable of it. “Why don’t you use mind control on human women? They won’t know any better.”

  He should have expected as much. Gabriel leveled a glare at him. “I’m not a complete jerk, Doctor. I will not use women like that.” He paused before he went on, bringing his anger at the dishonorable suggestion under control. “You helped my friends.”

  “Both Mr. Woodford’s and Mr. LeSang’s problems were different, not …” – he searched for the right word – “physical like yours.”

  Gabriel’s chest tightened. Yes, physical. And a vampire couldn’t alter his physical form. It was set in stone. It was the exact reason why his face was marred by a scar reaching from his chin to the top of his right ear. He’d received the wound when he was human. Had he been injured as a vampire, there would have never been a scar, and his face would be untouched.

  Two strikes against him – already the hideous scar scared plenty of women away, and once he dropped his pants –. He shuddered and looked back at the doctor who patiently sat in his chair.

  “They both claimed you used unorthodox methods,” Gabriel baited him.

  Dr. Drake gave a non-committal shrug with his shoulders. “What one might call unorthodox, another might deem natural.”

  That was a non-answer if there ever was one. Subtle hints wouldn’t get Gabriel the information he sought. He cleared his throat and nudged forward on his chair.

  “Amaury mentioned you had certain connections.” He emphasized the word connections in such a way the doctor couldn’t mistake what Gabriel was referring to.

  The almost unperceivable straightening of the doctor’s body would have escaped most others, but not Gabriel. Drake had understood only too well what he was after.