The Trouble With Vampires (An Argeneau Novel)

by Lynsay Sands

  “Oh,” Pet said. She understood what he meant about the extra blood taking care of exhaustion. The body repaired itself while mortals were sleeping, but the nanos repaired immortals all the time. Give immortals enough blood and they probably hardly had to sleep at all.

  “Vanittus and his men had breached the walls by the time we arrived at Bruni. Our men attacked from behind, while the boys and I plowed down the center, battling our way inside the wall. What I did not know was that one of his men had caught the maid that had been with Dardi, and learned he was fetching me back. Vanittus had sent for the rest of his men, and those of a nearby ally. He’d ordered them to wait in the woods on the other side of the keep and attack our flank once we arrived and set to.

  “I should have expected that,” Santo said wearily after a moment. “Had I stopped to think, rather than gathering my men and charging out in a panic, I might have considered the possibility of his doing something like that and planned ahead to—”

  “Santo,” Pet protested with a frown. “You can’t anticipate every move that will be made. What if you had known, and had sent for your own allies, to attack their second army’s flank when they attacked you? Perhaps Vanittus would have anticipated that and had a second backup to attack your backup. You can’t foresee everything, and this was not your fault.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue that, but merely rubbed his hand over his head and said in a flat voice, “Unbeknownst to me, by the time we hacked our way up the middle and into the courtyard, most of my men were dead behind us. The few remaining would soon follow. There was a pyre burning in the center of the courtyard. Several men were holding Honorata, and several more held Claricia and Fenicia. Vanittus was demanding Honorata agree to be his life mate.”

  “They needed several men to hold on to two little five-year-olds?” Pet asked with surprise.

  “Immortal children are strong. One male each would not have done,” he said quietly.

  “Oh,” she said with surprise, and wondered how strong she was now.

  “I had just stopped to take in the situation in the courtyard when I heard one of my son’s cry out. The three of them had been guarding my back, but when I turned . . .”

  Pet held her breath and ran her hand soothingly over his chest. She didn’t look up. She didn’t need to. She’d heard the pain in his voice before it had cracked.

  Santo cleared his throat after a minute. “My boys had been beheaded and a wall of men twenty deep stood behind their bodies. As I stood gaping in shock, several men picked up their remains, carried them past me, and threw them on the pyre.

  “Honorata let loose a terrible scream,” he said sadly. “The men closed in on me then. I fought hard and killed perhaps two dozen, but there were just too many and eventually I was subdued. I thought they would behead me too, and I would join my sons, but instead they dragged me forward, and forced me to kneel by Honorata. She had collapsed to the dirt in front of the pyre.

  “Vanittus made his ultimatum to her then. Agree to be his life mate or her daughters and lover would follow her sons onto the pyre. I thought she would do it to save our daughters,” Santo said with bewilderment. “They were our daughters . . . And she could always have killed him later to gain her freedom.” He shook his head. “But she stood up, spat at Vanittus, and leapt onto the pyre.”

  Pet swallowed a sudden thickness in her throat and whispered, “Maybe she thought he would leave the rest of you alone if she was dead.”

  “She was wrong,” he said harshly. “Vanittus roared with fury as we watched her burn. She did not make a sound. Our daughters did, though, when Vanittus then turned and ordered them to be thrown on the pyre alive. I struggled to get to them, to stop what was happening, but there were too many men holding me back. I had to watch as they were tossed on the fire and shrieked and strove to get out. One of them did manage to crawl out of the flames, but the soldiers used long poles to push her back in.”

  Pet sucked in a deep gasp of air and closed her eyes, unable to even imagine what he must have gone through witnessing that.

  “I still hear their screams in my sleep and fight to get to them,” he whispered.

  Pet could feel tears running down her face, but didn’t move to wipe them away. She didn’t want to do anything to distract Santo. She wanted him to finish this horrible tale as quickly as possible and never have to tell, and relive, it again.

  “I fully expected to be thrown on the pyre next, but by then I had stopped fighting. I did not care. I had lost the will to live.” A long sigh eased from him, making his chest move under her and then he said, “Instead, I was chained, thrown over a horse, and dragged back to Vilani keep. I was shackled to the wall of his dungeon, and there I remained for the next one hundred and sixty-two years.”

  “What?” Pet gasped, sitting up abruptly. “But, why—?”

  She had meant to ask why no one had rescued him. Why he had been left to rot there for so long, but Santo apparently thought she was asking why Vanittus had bothered to chain him up, and said, “So that he could take out his frustration and fury at losing his life mate on me, and he did so every day at first. He would torture me for hours using one device or another, and then leave me to suffer more agony as the nanos began harvesting blood from organs to keep me alive. The next day he would force-feed me several of his servants so that I would heal, and then he would start again with a different torture.”

  “This happened every day?” Pet asked, horrified at how he must have suffered.

  “For about fifty years or so. Then he grew bored, and the torture was reduced to every other day, and then after another twenty years, only twice a week, and so on.”

  “No one came to break you out, or help you?” she asked, wondering where his family was while this was happening.

  “My family all thought I had died in the fire along with Honorata and our children. There was no one left alive at Bruni to say otherwise. Not servant nor soldier. And they found my ring in the ashes along with Honorata and the children’s.”

  “How did it get there?”

  “I am not sure. I presume Vanittus took it off me—either before we left Bruni, or during our first torture session—and had it thrown in the fire to ensure I was thought to be dead.”

  Pet stared at him silently for a minute, and then finally wiped her eyes and asked, “How did you get away? Did he release you?”

  “No. A young maid who worked in the castle and had been force-fed to me a time or two ran away from Vilani. Without his parents there to control him, Vanittus fed on his servants and soldiers. They were all terrified of him. The maid who ran away had a sister at Vilani still. She went to my mother and told her I was there in exchange for the promise that she would save her sister when she went to save me.

  “Mother raised an army four times the size of Vilani’s forces and led them in the attack. She was inside the castle and cutting his head off before Vanittus knew what hit him and could order me killed. Then she found and set me free.”

  “Your mother sounds fierce,” Pet said solemnly.

  “She is a force to be reckoned with when her ire is up,” Santo said with a fond smile. “And her ire was up. I am her son.”

  “Her favorite son?” she suggested with a smile.

  “Her oldest son,” he said after a hesitation.

  Pet shook her head with amusement. She’d known he wouldn’t admit it even if he was his mother’s favorite, but she let it go and asked, “And the maid’s sister? Did your mother keep her safe?”

  “She did one better. Mother not only saved the maid’s sister, she also settled a great deal of wealth on them both. If there are any descendants of theirs alive today, they are no doubt still wealthy.”

  They were both silent for a minute, and then Pet muttered, “Well . . . and here I thought I had a tough past.”

  Santo blinked at her words, and then shook his head with disbelief. “That is all you have to say?”

  Pet arched one eyebrow. “Were
you hoping for pity?”

  “No,” he assured her solemnly. “I take that no better than you.”

  Pet smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

  “But I was hoping for some naked comfort,” Santo added softly, the silver in his eyes growing as his gaze slid over her.

  “Yeah?” she asked, remembering how his kisses and caresses had seemed to restore her soul in the restaurant parking lot. Shifting, Pet turned slightly and lay down with her head above his groin and her feet toward the top of the bed. Closing her hand gently around his hardening penis, she kissed the tip and then murmured, “I think I can manage that.”

  Pet had barely taken him into her mouth and paused as it sent a shaft of pleasure through her, when his hand slid up her thigh and between her legs sending another jolt along to join and double the first. They both groaned and then the door opened and Pet glanced around in shock as a stranger burst in, yelling something in Italian.

  Squealing, Pet released Santo and dove under the covers.

  Nineteen

  “Thank God I stopped you when I did.”

  Santo rolled his eyes at those words as he stomped down the hall behind Christian Notte. He couldn’t believe his cousin had just barged in like that, shouting, “Stop! Stop! You cannot do it!” in Italian, and he had no idea why he would, but intended to find out. To that end, he’d quickly dragged on his jeans and ushered his cousin out of the room. He was hoping to get to the bottom of things quickly so that he could return to Pet and finish what they’d started.

  “I never would have forgiven myself if she had died because we kept quiet,” Christian added.

  “What?” Santo caught his cousin’s arm and jerked him to a halt. “Kept what quiet?”

  Rather than answer, Christian said, “You have to convince Pet to turn before you can sleep with her, cousin. Otherwise you could be dangerous to her.”

  Santo stiffened at the suggestion. “I would never hurt Pet.”

  “Not on purpose,” Christian allowed. “But you could by accident.”

  “No.” Santo shook his head with certainty. “I would sooner die than harm Pet.”

  “Of course, but you are not in control while you are asleep,” Christian said insistently, and when Santo continued to shake his head firmly, asked, “Would you ever think you could hurt myself or our cousins Raffaele and Marcus?”

  “No, of course not,” he growled. The idea was ridiculous.

  “But you have,” Christian told him solemnly. “You have hurt all three of us.”

  “What?” he asked with alarm.

  Christian nodded regretfully. “You do not just scream in your sleep when the nightmares are on you, cousin. You thrash and fight and have even choked each one of us on those rare occasions when we were forced to double up for a night, or we were foolish enough to try to wake you from a night terror.”

  Santo stared at him with disbelief. “You are joking. I would know if—”

  “It’s not a joke,” Christian hissed. “You shattered my jaw once when I tried to wake you, crushed Raffaele’s windpipe another time, and broke Marcus’s back.”

  Santo stared at him with horror. “I did not. I could not—”

  “You did,” he insisted.

  “How could I not know this?” Santo asked with dismay.

  “Because we hid it from you,” Christian admitted solemnly. “We piled on the blood and healed quickly. At least Raff and I did. Marcus took longer to heal the time you hurt him, but he just stayed in his room and avoided you until it was done.”

  Santo gaped at him. “And you never told me?”

  “You did not harm us intentionally, and we knew you would suffer guilt if you knew, so we avoided thinking about it so you couldn’t read what had happened from our minds,” Christian said wearily.

  “Dear God.” Santo ran one hand over his head, his mind racing.

  “I’m sorry,” Christian murmured. “But I am glad I got to you in time. I could not believe it when we arrived and mother said you were up here with your life mate. I rushed right up to make sure you did not sleep with her. I realized then that we should have told you before. I mean, Raff, Marcus, and I are immortal and healed quickly, Pet is not. If you crushed her windpipe or broke her back, she could die.” He shook his head. “You cannot risk having life mate sex with her, passing out, and then possibly killing her in your sleep, or damaging her so badly she dies before you wake, Santo.”

  “She is turned.”

  Both men swung around to see Julius Notte approaching from the stairs. Pausing in front of them, he scowled at Christian. “You should not have kept that from him, son. Pet could have died.”

  “I know,” Christian admitted. “But she has been turned? She is safe?”

  “Sì,” Julius murmured

  “Good, good,” Christian said, nodding. “It is all right then.”

  Santo almost winced at the claim. It didn’t seem all right to him.

  “I guess we should head downstairs,” Christian said now. “Lucian wants to plan our approach for raiding the Purdy house.”

  “Lucian is here?” Santo asked, startled to learn the head of the North American council had arrived.

  “Sì,” Christian said. “He wants Dressler as much as the rest of us. Several Enforcers came with us too. Decker, Nicholas and Jo, Mirabeau and Tiny and Eshe all came as well. They want a piece of the bastard too.”

  Santo nodded. Most of the enforcers mentioned were family or friends of Marguerite on the Argeneau side. He wasn’t surprised they had come, but merely turned back toward the bedroom, murmuring, “I must let Pet know I have to go below.”

  Pet glanced up when the door opened, relaxing when she saw that it was Santo. Raising her eyebrows in question, she asked, “Who was that?”

  “My cousin Christian,” he said quietly, remaining near the door. “The men are here. We are going to have a meeting to plot our strategy and then raid the Purdy house.”

  “Oh,” Pet said with disappointment. “So, no naked comfort for now?”

  She saw something flicker in Santo’s eyes and then his expression hardened. “No.” He turned back to the door, and then paused and looked back at her sadly as he added, “I am sorry.”

  Pet stared at the door after he left. There had been something off about Santo. Something . . . wrong. She didn’t know what, but she had a bad feeling. His last words . . . It had sounded as if he didn’t expect to see her again.

  “Well?”

  Santo turned from searching the entry closet at that barked question from Lucian Argeneau, and followed the tall blond man’s gaze to Nicholas Argeneau as the Enforcer led his wife, Jo, and his cousin Decker out of the basement near the end of the hall.

  Nicholas shook his head. “Dressler was not there.”

  “But there are a dozen or more bodies downstairs. All drained dry,” Decker announced grimly. “And we found Purdy locked in the cold cellar. He’s in a bad way. Tiny’s bringing him up.”

  “He’ll need medical care,” Jo added, even as a man nearly as large as Santo brought a shriveled old man dressed in filthy clothes out of the basement.

  “Were you able to learn anything about who the rogue was here?” Lucian asked, eyeing the old man in Tiny’s arms with a frown.

  “It was Dressler,” Nicholas assured him. “But he left four or five days ago after some kind of disturbance. Before Purdy lost consciousness, he managed to tell us that someone came by, causing a fuss, he thought it was Pete somebody. He heard a scuffle, and then later, he wasn’t sure how much later, he heard his own car start in the garage and drive away. He hasn’t heard anything since, but he’s been in and out of consciousness. Dressler took a lot of blood from him and then left him locked up for days down there. Unfortunately, the only thing Purdy keeps in his cold cellar is bottled water, juices, and soda.”

  “Which is actually good or he’d be dead,” Jo pointed out dryly. “Although some food too would have been better.”

  “We weren’t
able to get much more than that from him,” Decker added as Eshe and Mirabeau came downstairs with Zani from searching that floor. “He’s in a bad way, his thoughts disorganized and hard to read after what he’s been through. But he was able to tell us that Dressler asked after two other relatives when he first got here. Where they live now, what their circumstances are, that sort of thing. He gave us the names, so at least we have a direction to go in now.”

  Lucian released a long sigh and nodded. “Mirabeau, you and Tiny take Mr. Purdy to the hospital and stay with him. Hopefully after a little care, his thinking will be clearer and we can learn more from him.”

  Santo watched the tall woman with fuchsia highlights in her hair lead Tiny to the door. She opened and held it for him to carry the man out, and then followed silently.

  “Anything upstairs, Eshe? Zani?” Lucian asked, turning on the pair.

  “A cell phone.” Zani held up a black phone. “But I’ll have to work on it. It’s locked. Other than that, I didn’t find anything else.”

  “Me either,” Eshe said, shaking her head and making the flame-colored tips of her dark hair move so that it looked on fire.

  Lucian’s mouth compressed, but he merely said, “Decker, go back to the Caprelli house and call Mortimer. Give him the names and whatever information you got from Purdy on those relatives. We’ll need addresses.”

  When Decker nodded and headed for the door, Lucian glanced around and continued grimly, “We had best start cleaning up. We need to remove the bodies and get them to a hospital morgue so their families aren’t left wondering what happened to their loved ones. And we need to . . .” His mouth tightened as he surveyed the room. Santo followed his gaze around the garbage strewn entry and then into the living room, which was in even worse shape.

  Santo knew the rest of the main floor was in the same condition. He, Lucian, and Bricker had searched the main floor while the others had dispersed to search the other floors.