by Lynsay Sands
Jess managed another couple of strokes before she had to pause again and return to simply floating along in the water. She knew she should probably turn over and look around to be sure she was still moving toward shore and hadn’t somehow drifted off course, but she was so tired she couldn’t make herself do it. She’d just float for a bit more first, she decided, her eyes drooping closed.
Jess was exhausted. The waves had helped, carrying her along as she kicked her feet, but she’d had to battle them to keep from being taken off course. She was hoping to reach shore near the resort where they were staying. She had no money, and all she was wearing was her bikini bottoms and the torn T-shirt, which she’d knotted between her breasts in an attempt to make it more decent. Jess would really rather not stroll up on shore at the hedonist’s resort she’d heard was up the beach from theirs in one direction, or the private nudist’s resort in the other. Her resort, where her family was, and where her room waited with her clothes in the closet, and her money in the safe, was her aim.
Fortunately, her battle with the waves had ended when she reached the protected bay. The wind had died abruptly, the waves disappearing, and swimming had become much easier. Unfortunately, Jess had been exhausted by then, and now faced a different battle. Her arms felt leaden, as did her legs, and she was struggling to keep from falling asleep and drifting back out to sea.
Sighing wearily, Jess forced her eyes open and stared up at the starry sky as she dragged one arm out of the water, swung it up over her head, and plunged it down to push through the cool liquid and propel herself along. Her second arm had followed in the same action before she realized she’d stopped kicking her feet again.
“Idiot,” she muttered, fluttering her feet in the water. It was really the best she could do at the moment.
A splashing sound behind her caught Jess’s ear and she stilled briefly to listen. It was a sound she’d heard several times since entering the calm of the bay. There were fish here. They jumped. Still, she decided she’d put it off long enough and should roll over and check to see that she was still heading for what she thought was her resort. Letting her legs drop, she straightened in the water, turned, and then shrieked in surprised horror when she saw the shape moving toward her through the water. It was so close it was nearly on top of her, and for one second she thought it was a whale, or a huge shark rising up out of the water, and then she realized it was a human doing the butterfly swim stroke. She’d just happened to turn as they were in the push phase, their head and arms out of the water.
Apparently, realizing how close they were, the swimmer stopped abruptly and treaded water in front of her, but didn’t say anything. He simply stared at her through the darkness, his eyes seeming to glow. A trick of the light, she supposed.
“I thought you were a shark or something,” Jess said finally, so exhausted her words came out slurred.
“No,” he growled the word, and then added, “There was a shark when I headed out. Fortunately, he lost interest before he got too close to you and turned back the way he came.”
Tilting her head, Jess eyed him silently. The man had an Italian accent so was obviously a guest at one of the resorts and not a native. She was trying to figure out if he was joking with that shark bit when he asked, “How did you end up out here, cara?”
Startled at his using what she was quite sure was an Italian endearment, Jess hesitated to answer.
“You are wearing a life jacket,” he added, and this time she noticed the accent as he asked, “Did you fall off a boat or cruise ship?”
Jess shook her head wearily. “I jumped.”
“Jumped?” he echoed a bit sharply.
Jess nodded, and then craned her head to try to get a look at the shoreline beyond him. The waves had carried her into the bay, but the water had been much calmer from there and, recognizing the area, Jess had pinpointed where she thought her resort was and had swam in that direction, crossing the large bay at an angle meant to get her there. She wanted to know if she’d succeeded or not.
“Why?”
“Vampires,” Jess muttered distractedly as she surveyed the buildings directly ahead of her onshore, which, incidentally, still looked a long way away to her. The good news was, she was quite sure the lights belonged to her resort, which was made up of one large, sprawling main building and six long, narrower buildings. The large building was where the reception lobby, the spa, several small stores, the resort clinic, and several of the restaurants were situated. The rectangular buildings were four stories high and held the hotel rooms. From what she could see, the building shapes and colors were the same as her resort. Dear God, had she actually done something right tonight?
Realizing that the man had gone silent, Jess shifted her attention back to him. She couldn’t really make out features, and was pretty sure she was imagining the glowing eyes. That combination made her wonder if he was even really there. Maybe she was having exhaustion-induced hallucinations. Was that a thing?
“Did you say vampires?” the man asked, his voice at least an octave deeper than the last time he spoke.
That was when Jess recalled her decision to keep mention of vampires out of her explanation. She’d debated the matter thoroughly in her head as she swam. On the one hand, not mentioning vampires meant that the authorities would be wholly unprepared for what they would encounter when they chased down and boarded the ship. On the other hand, mentioning vampires would probably get her labeled a crackpot, and leave the other tourists without any chance of rescue at all. However, leaving out the mention of vampires, and perhaps just hinting at the ship’s crew being strange, and uncommonly strong, and suggesting the officers take crosses might be enough to ensure they went to help and were also on their toes.
“No,” Jess lied. “I . . .” She was too tired to come up with a lie to cover her error, and really, staying there, treading water, was just sapping more of her energy. “I need to get to shore,” she said politely. “Can you move, please?”
Rather than move aside, the man moved closer and then just stared at her and treaded water.
Jess bore that for what felt like forever and then shifted impatiently in the water. She was about to snap at him to get out of the way when a tension she hadn’t realized was there left his shoulders, and he said, “Turn around and relax.”
“Why?” she asked warily.
“Because I’m going to tow you to shore. You’re too exhausted to make it on your own. You’ll fall asleep and drift back out to sea,” he added gently. “Let me help you.”
“Thank you,” Jess breathed, and immediately rolled on her back in the water. She’d barely done so when she felt a tug on her life jacket and then began to glide backward through the water at a steady, rather impressive speed. She’d be onshore in no time at this rate, Jess thought just before she lost consciousness.
“It’s a woman.”
“Who is she?”
“She’s wearing a life jacket.”
“What happened?”
“How did she end up in the water?”
Raffaele shook his head at the rapid-fire questions shot at him by Zanipolo and Santo as he carried the woman out of the water. Rather than answer, he merely said, “Bring my clothes, please,” and walked past them, heading for the resort buildings.
The men had already gathered his clothes for him on the way down, so merely fell into step on either side of him as he walked.
“Is she alive?” Zanipolo asked with a frown, leaning slightly in front of Raffaele to look at the woman in his arms as they walked.
“Yes,” Raffaele said quietly. “I think she has just fainted from her exhaustion.”
“Are you taking her to the resort clinic?” Santo asked as they reached the rows of lounge chairs at the head of the beach.
“No. I want to look her over myself first,” Raffaele said solemnly.
“Why?” Santo asked at once.
“Two reasons,” Raffaele responded as they made their way out of the rows o
f chairs and reached the concrete paths leading to the various resort buildings. Much to his relief the paths were pretty much deserted at this hour with most people already in bed, or situated in the bar enjoying the entertainment. There were only one or two guests making their way to their rooms and they paid them no attention.
“What is the first reason?” Santo asked as they approached the paths around the pools.
“I want to look her over for bites,” Raffaele admitted.
“Bites?” Zanipolo asked with interest. “What makes you think she might have been bitten?”
“Because when I asked her if she’d fallen off a boat or cruise ship, she said no, she jumped, and when I asked why, she said—” he glanced around to be sure no one was near enough to hear, and then lowered his voice anyway as he finished with “‘—vampires.’”
“Bingo,” Zanipolo said with grim satisfaction as they got past the pools and approached their building. “She’ll be able to tell us where the vampire nest is and how they operate. It’s got to be some kind of dinner cruise or something. Or it could be a day cruise. She could have had to swim a long way.” He frowned over that briefly as they reached their building and walked along the open hall to the stairs, and then asked, “What is the second reason you want to examine her before we take her to the resort clinic?”
“When I got to her she was beyond exhausted,” Raffaele said as they started up the stairs. “Her words were slurred and she could hardly keep her eyes open. I thought it would be easier all around if I read her mind to see what had happened, and took control of her to drag her in.”
“And?” Santo prodded as they exited the stairs at their floor and started along the hall to their room.
Raffaele was silent for a minute, having trouble accepting what he was about to say himself, but when they reached the door to their suite and Santo pulled out his key card to unlock the door, Raffaele swallowed and said in almost a whisper, “I couldn’t read her.”
Santo had got the door unlocked and started to open it before Raffaele spoke, but now he stiffened and turned sharply to peer at him with amazement. “What?”
Raffaele merely nodded.
“Score!” Zanipolo shouted gleefully. “Didn’t I tell you? I told you! Didn’t I? Hot resorts are the way to go to find our mates! I so told you that!”
“Yes, you did,” Raffaele admitted with amusement as Santo pushed the door open for him to carry his life mate into the room.
“And he’ll remind you of that every day for the rest of his life,” Santo said dryly as he let the door close, locked it, and then hit the light switch, turning on the overhead light.
“Sì, I will,” Zanipolo agreed gleefully, moving to Raffaele’s side to peer down at the woman he held. Eyeing her almost reverently now, he whispered, “Cugino, your life mate is very pretty.”
“Yes, she is,” Raffaele agreed solemnly, his gaze sliding over her as well. Her lips were full and looked soft, her nose straight, and while they were closed now, he knew her eyes were large and lovely, and an eggshell blue. Her hair, of course, was wet, but appeared to be a dark brown.
“What is her name?” Santo asked, moving closer to look her over as well.
Raffaele stiffened at the question. “I don’t know her name,” he admitted.
“You didn’t ask her?” Santo asked with surprise.
Raffaele shook his head.
“Are you kidding me?” Zanipolo asked with disbelief. “You finally meet your mate and you did not even ask her name?”
Raffaele opened his mouth to respond, but was forestalled when the woman in his arms suddenly began to shriek and thrash wildly about.
Four
Jess had been dreaming that Vasco had caught up to her, pulled her from the ocean, and was carrying her to his cabin to ravish her and turn her into his vampire whore when voices pierced her dreams and dragged her from sleep. The first words that she heard clearly as she reached consciousness were, “Are you kidding me? You finally meet your mate and you did not even ask her name?”
Blinking her eyes open, she’d found herself staring up at three heads bent over her, their faces in shadow. Jess had been sure it was Vasco, Cristo, and Ildaria. And then she’d become aware of liquid dripping on her from one of them and—positive it was Tyler’s blood dripping from Ildaria’s gruesome, blood-covered face—well, it had been pure instinct to shriek in horror and fury and begin to struggle.
“It’s okay. You’re safe now. We’ll protect you.”
The words were a litany Jess suspected had been repeated many times, but she didn’t really hear them and grasp their meaning until the three heads broke apart and the one carrying her rushed to set her down on something and then backed away. It was only then that she was able to see the faces of the three people in the room with her. The light was now overhead rather than behind their faces and Jess recognized that there wasn’t a Vasco, Cristo, or Ildaria among them. In fact, it was three strangers. All male and one of them soaking wet.
It had been water dripping on her face, Jess realized, and she reached up to run her finger over the wet spot. She then pulled it away to peer at what she’d collected on her fingertip just to be sure. Yes, clear liquid, not blood.
Sighing, Jess slumped wearily back on what she now saw was a couch and surveyed the three men eyeing her warily from the other side of the coffee table. They were all attractive, each in a different way. The one on the left had black mid-length hair that looked a little shaggy, as if he were trying to grow it out. He also wore a black T-shirt and black jeans. His body was made up of lean muscle, leaving him tall and lanky.
The one in the middle, on the other hand, was bald as a cue ball and carrying some serious mass. He definitely worked out. He also apparently liked jewelry, Jess decided as she noted that every one of his fingers seemed to sport a thick silver ring.
Her gaze shifted to the last man, the one on the right, and she blinked as she peered at him. He had short, dark hair that was soaking wet and slicked back from his face. But she noted that almost distractedly, because her attention seemed to be taken up with trying to look over every inch of his body. The man was standing there in only a pair of body-hugging black briefs . . . and what a body to hug. He was more muscular than the lean one, but not as Hulk-ish as the big one. In truth, with nice, muscular shoulders, narrowing down to an eight-or ten-pack stomach, he was just perfect, and then there was the package the briefs were hugging . . . which was growing, Jess realized, and knew she should politely avert her eyes, but just couldn’t seem to. Instead, she stared with fascination, her exhausted mind for some reason recalling the story of Pinocchio.
“Right. Shall we talk now, or would you two like to put on some clothes first so I can stop feeling like a perv?”
The lean guy was the one who asked that question, and his tone of pained amusement managed to drag Jess’s attention away from the amazing Penisocchio. The moment her weary gaze landed on him, the lean guy gestured vaguely to her chest while averting his eyes. Jess glanced down and then squawked in dismay and scrambled to cover herself when she saw that her torn T-shirt had come undone and her life jacket had shifted, leaving one breast to play peekaboo. It was presently flashing them its nipple.
“I will fetch you both towels,” the big guy said solemnly as she reached under the life jacket, caught at the damp cloth of the torn T-shirt, and dragged it over the exposed breast. He then slipped through the open double doors behind him into the bedroom off this sitting area. The main bathroom was off the bedroom, which Jess knew because this room was an exact duplicate of the one she shared with—
“Allison!” she cried, sitting up with alarm. Glancing from Lean Guy to Penisocchio almost frantically, she said, “You need to call the authorities. We have to help Allison. And the others,” she added with a frown, wondering if Tyler even could be helped. She wasn’t sure; he might be a vampire now but the others might still be all right. Vasco would have discovered she was missing by now and be searching
for her. Surely, he would have the crew concentrate on that rather than feasting on the tourists. Wouldn’t he?
“Who is Vasco?” the lean one asked.
Jess jerked her head up sharply, her gaze narrowing suspiciously at the question. She hadn’t told them about Vasco. How did he know the name?
“You mentioned the name Vasco as well as Cristo and Ildaria while you were unconscious. You must have been having nightmares,” Lean Guy explained as if she’d asked the question aloud.
“Oh,” Jess breathed, and relaxed. She had been dreaming about Vasco and the pirate ship just before she woke up. She just hadn’t known she talked in her sleep, Jess thought, her gaze shifting to the big guy when he returned to the room with two towels.
“Thank you,” she murmured, taking the towel he offered to her before giving the other to Penisocchio. For a moment, Jess just sat staring at the towel, her mind slow to tell her what to do with it, and then movement drew her gaze to Penisocchio as he quickly scrubbed it over his damp hair. When he then started to run it over his arms and chest, Jess peered down at herself and frowned at the bulky life jacket she wore.
She’d have to take the vest off to dry herself, Jess supposed wearily, and forced herself to stand. Her legs were shaky, but they held her up and she turned her back to the men to concentrate on removing the life jacket. Her arms felt incredibly heavy when she lifted them, and her fingers were trembling and clumsy, making the task more difficult, but Jess managed to unbuckle and remove the bulky life jacket. She immediately let it drop to the floor with a little sigh. It was a great relief to get it off. She’d fastened it tightly to ensure she didn’t slip out of it while battling the waves, but after hours of it rubbing her skin raw, Jess almost would rather have slid out of the darned thing.