He wasn’t far off.
After several moments of being hurled through the air, his head landed on a sharp rock. The pain ricocheted through his skull. A dark silhouette of a woman appeared over him, and even in the shroud of darkness, he could see she wasn’t of this world. Before he had a chance to cry out from the crippling pain, she clamped her cold mouth over his sweaty, dirty neck. He was instantly catapulted into the bliss of her bite.
When he awoke several days later, it was only miles from where his voyage had been waylaid, but it was leagues past his old life.
“Who are you?” he’d asked, unable to wiggle more than a finger. The pain was unbearable, like shards of glass flowing through his veins.
She was lying next to him and staring at the stars above. “My sweet man, how refreshing you are. It is not so much about who I am, but who you will become.”
From those first moments, he recalled how something about her was ominous, yet magnetic.
Days later, when he awoke a second time, he learned the raw, despicable truth. But nothing mattered aside from pleasing her. He’d forgotten all about his beloved brothers and loyal men, his father’s plundered lands. Like a moth to a flame, he was under her spell, blind to the undeniable wrongness of what she’d done to him: she’d stolen his life.
Years later, he’d discover he was compelled to obey her. Partly because of their blood bond, partly because she was skilled at the fine art of glamour. Eventually, through pure grit and toil, he would build a tolerance to her will. But before that day took place, centuries would slip through his fingers in an endless blur. So many goddamned years. So many battles. So much death by his hand. He was darkness and savored the awesome power that came with it. He was a vampire. The Queen’s General.
One evening, near the border of Scotland in the queen’s castle—a recent acquisition from a mysteriously deceased lord—the axis in Niccolo’s world tilted once again. Niccolo had been ordered to kill an entire village.
“My queen, surely those people do not need to be eliminated. They have done nothing wrong except refuse to bow when you rode through.”
And merely called you the bride of the devil a dozen or so times and instructed the children to pelt you with rocks. No harm to foul.
She sauntered over to a plush red velvet chair by the fireplace and flopped down, throwing her legs over the armrest. “They’ve disrespected me, the Queen, and for this, they must die. I want them taken care of before I depart for Paris.”
He felt the strength of his will snap into place for the first time in centuries. He did not stop to ask why or reflect upon the dark path he’d been treading. He simply basked in his regained freewill, straightened his back, and said, “I will not kill innocent people simply to stroke your ego.”
Before he blinked, the queen was on him, gripping his throat, gleaming white fangs exposed. “Then I will go to your pretty little Italian village and kill the whole lot of DiContis. Even the children. I’ll suck them dry and make you watch your great nieces and nephews wither into nothing. I seem to recall there is one young woman who is the exact likeness of your sweet, dead mother.”
He growled as he saw the truth in her eyes. She would follow through.
With a grunt of frustration, Reyna released him. “Niccolo, do not force my hand. It is such a crude way to gain compliance, and think of the consequences. In the end, you will be compelled to do my bidding, and not only will your descendants die, but I will see justice served to the clan that has assaulted my honor.”
Niccolo finally understood; he would do her bidding, or she would kill the people he cared for. When they were long gone and dead, she’d find some other leverage. Perhaps an orphanage. Or ten. There was no threat beneath her. Nothing she wouldn’t do to prove her power.
It was astounding that the gods continued to let her live on.
“Then kill me. Though the thought of displeasing you pains me, committing such an atrocity would pain me more.” He stared boldly into her eyes. He was prepared for the likely outcome of losing his head. So be it.
“Ugh!” She rolled her eyes. “You’re a vampire, Niccolo! Killing is what we do.”
“Vampire, yes. Ruthless, as well. Monster, I am no longer. I will not kill an entire village, children included, just to please you.” His eyes did not waiver from her glare, and she seemed to understand that her power over him, her ability to glamour him, had dwindled.
She stomped her foot. “You are so stubborn, Niccolo. Fine. Be so goddamned honorable.” She waived her pale hand through air and walked over to small table in the corner of her chamber to pour a glass of red wine. “Very well, you win. Be off with you and check to be sure my carriage is draped properly.”
Niccolo felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He knew this wasn’t over. The queen never backed down. She was merely reformulating her strategy.
A chill that would stay with him for the next millennium embedded in his very soul.
“Sì, my queen.”
***
“I really hate her,” Helena said. “It almost makes me want to become a vampire just so I’d be strong enough to take her down myself. What an evil, horrible woman!”
Niccolo nodded. “So you see, Helena, why I did not tell you of my history. It is full of shame and darkness.”
“What? Are you joking? She used your goodness against you! End of story. You can’t possibly blame yourself.”
Niccolo couldn’t begin to convey the depths of his guilt for the things he’d done. In fact, he never understood why the gods permitted him to live considering he’d blatantly violated the Pact dozens of times. In any case, after his moral-reawakening, he vowed to make amends for the past.
“So, what happened? What did she do when you disobeyed her?” Helena hadn’t moved an inch the entire time Niccolo spoke.
“She’d anticipated my reaction. Several days earlier, she turned a man I’d left for dead. He was a self-proclaimed demon hunter who killed not only a fair amount of vampires—innocent ones who were living in accordance with the Pact—but also a large count of humans…anyone believed to be a demon or other worldly creature. His aura was one of the blackest I’d ever seen.”
“Why would she do that?”
“She needed a henchmen to do her dirty work. Rodrigo executed my entire village right after he took care of the clan in Scotland. The queen told me that if I served obediently, she’d keep Rodrigo on a leash. But if I tried to end my life, disobey or escape her, she’d let him roam free until the gods stopped him. That could equate to a very long time—they seem to have a very different sense of urgency.”
“Oh,” was all Helena could manage to say for several moments. “I guess I never thanked you, did I?”
“For what, my love?” Niccolo scooped Helena’s hand into his.
“For saving my life in the jungle that night. Rodrigo would have killed me.”
Niccolo pulled Helena close. “I should have killed him a long time ago. And it is I who should thank you.”
“For what?”
Niccolo held her tightly. “That is the second part of my story. It was the goddess Cimil who first told me of you. I thought the idea of having a mate was a myth, certainly a joke. But the moment I saw you, I realized how wrong I was. And now, for the first time in a millennium, I have love in my heart. You are a miracle.”
Niccolo bent his head and took her lips hard, the burst of emotions—his very own—griping him in a vice. He could still feel Helena, her light, trickling through him like a quiet stream. But his own light roared—a river, powerful and unstoppable. It plowed through centuries of desolate stone mountains of despair and hate, sweeping away the bleakness in its currents.
Helena tensed for a moment. Then her body melted against his. Her soft lips parted as he slid his tongue into her mouth. A tiny moan accompanied her breath, sending Niccolo over his last remaining edge of control. He wanted her. He loved her. He could not bear waiting to take her any longer. He needed to touc
h every inch of her. He wanted to taste her skin. He wanted to feel her writhe beneath him as he pumped his hard flesh between her thighs.
“I love you, Helena. My life means nothing if you are not happy and alive. I will tell you anything else you want to know. Today. I vow it. But I must have you,” he whispered.
Helena flung her arms around his neck and pulled herself deeper into his ravenous kiss.
That must mean she agrees.
“Let me take you somewhere private,” he panted.
Helena nodded. Her eyes said she was just as hungry for him as he was for her.
Niccolo’s heart continued pounding, and his breathing was hard. He pulled away, breaking the kiss. “Tell me what to do, how to sift you.”
Helena’s eyes were wild with passion. She shook her head for a moment trying to get a hold of herself. “Oh. Sift. Right.” She reached for the gold ring on her finger and slipped it off.
Niccolo quickly took her free hand and tried to sift her, but nothing happened. “It’s not working.”
Helena still held the ring in her hand.
“Give it to me. I will hold it.” Niccolo gestured frantically.
She eagerly handed it to him. He grabbed her with his other hand, but again, nothing happened.
“We must leave the ring,” he concluded.
“Wait! No. It’s my grandmother’s. I don’t want to lose it.”
Niccolo cupped her face and gazed into her eyes with affection. “Of course, I understand. I will bury it here and send someone back for it.”
***
Andrus opened his eyes at sunset and immediately knew something was amiss. The door to the room was ajar and Helena was gone. How could he have slept through the woman being taken? Which, obviously, she had. Her little slipper boots were still bedside.
“This isn’t over vampire,” he growled under his breath as one single thought plucked like a sour cord in the back of his mind. Mine, she’s mine.
But why? Because he needed her to exact revenge on the queen? Because Helena was the key to leaving him free from the vampire blood that flowed inside?
Or, was it because she brought him a sense of warmth and peace and, maybe, he wanted her for his own? No. Impossible. Yes, she was an irresistible mixture of sweet and sour, kindness and combustion. But Andrus was incapable of love. Reyna had murdered that piece of him.
He wanted to kill the queen. He had to see this through, rid himself and his brothers of this cursed vampire blood. One measly human woman, no matter how pure and kind, could not stand in the way of having justice for so many.
He would not allow himself to think of the possibility of having her as his own, no matter how sweet her kiss had been or what it made him feel. Besides, she was blood-bound to Niccolo the Executioner.
Yes, but once the queen is gone, Niccolo will be dead, the bond broken. She will be free to love another.
But it would be impossible for Helena to want him; after he betrayed her, she would never forgive him.
He slid on his jeans, pulled on his tee, and plucked his cell from the pocket. He dialed and held the device to his ear, hand trembling with anger. “Round up the men. We have a human to hunt.”
Chapter 15
Helena blinked, literally blinked, and found herself standing in a hotel room wrapped in Niccolo’s arms. She jerked her head back, noticing she was now standing right beside the bed. A big empty bed. “Wow. That was impressive.”
Niccolo released her, a hungry look in his dark eyes, and took several steps back. He began slowly peeling off his light gray sweater. “I am older,” he said slowly, his voice gruff, “and therefore more gifted than most. And there are many…” He paused and made a low growl as his eyes moved over her body. “Many things I can do which you have yet to experience.”
The muscles of his thick arms flexed as he revealed the solid ripples of his impossibly strong chest and perfectly sculpted abs.
Helena gulped. This man completely undid her. Just looking at him made the sexual tension pool in the depths of her core, flutter between her legs, and then radiate out, touching every inch of her skin like tiny shards of mind-numbing tingles. It was as if she’d plugged herself into Niccolo’s mind and was feeling every flicker of emotion, every pang of sexual desire, every impulse to take her completely. She could even swear that she was seeing images from his mind, of him drinking from her.
Helena shivered, trying to gather her thoughts. “What’s happening, Niccolo?”
Now shirtless, he slipped off his boots and carelessly tossed them aside, and then approached her slowly, popping the top button of his faded jeans.
If it weren’t for the fact that she knew something even more pleasing to the eye awaited her, she’d be feeling an extreme sense of loss for not being able to see him wearing those pants. The way they hung low on his hips, giving her a peak of those wicked ropes of muscles that ran just under his abs and disappeared down into the front his jeans…
Yum! She licked her lips.
Niccolo seemed to feel her every thought too. He paused just in front of her so she could continue admiring him.
He cocked one eyebrow. “Do you want to see the rest?” he asked teasingly, ignoring her earlier question completely. He slowly began opening the fly. She could see the dark patch of masculine hair just above his cock. He was commando. She loved that.
Helena’s core clenched hard as she thought about tasting him there. She remembered with perfect clarity how the rest of him looked. That image of him lying nude on the alter in Mexico would forever be seared in her mind.
“Yes,” her voice was scratchy and rough. “I would.”
As he slid the pants down, her eyes traveled with them. His legs were tight and muscular with a light dusting of black hair; his thighs were powerful like a champion stallion, and his cock could equally be described. Large and thick—it just begged to be put to hard work. Again, Helena gulped. Her mind had forgotten all about the reasons she’d left him. Right now, the only thing that mattered was how she wanted him in the worst kind of way.
He slowly lowered his head and took her mouth with a leisurely, controlled pace. But she could sense the tension undulating just beneath the surface, ready to explode. All he needed was one little push, and she’d feel the full force of his passion; nothing would be held back. Was she strong enough to take him? She could feel his concern; he was quite sure he would break her.
His rough hands slid under her shirt and briefly stroked the curves of her waistline before pulling her shirt over her head. His eyes languidly gazed over her bare breasts. He kneeled down slowly, his eyes never breaking from hers as he pulled down her pants and panties, leaving her just as bare as he was.
Niccolo’s body was so large compared to her that she felt like a doll. His strength excited her.
His face was eye level with her midriff, but he bent his head to place leisurely kisses over her lower belly, grasping her hips with his large hands.
Helena gasped. The touch of his lips only made her need painful, unbearable. His lips slowly worked their way up the center of her stomach to her breasts. She ran her fingers through the thick wave of midnight black hair while he kissed the underside of her breast, massaging the skin with his tongue. He continued placing kisses over every inch of her skin, except her eager, hard nipple. Was he teasing her?
“Please, Niccolo, I can’t take any more.”
He looked up at her, his eyes filled with primal lust, like a lion hovering over a fresh kill. “I’m just getting started.” He pushed her back and she fell into the bed. Niccolo’s enormous body pinned her onto the mattress. “Do not say anything, Helena, not a word. The sound of your voice will send me over the edge, and I do not want to lose control.”
She was about to protest, but he covered her mouth quickly with his hand and shook his head. “No, my love, I must go slowly,” he paused, his lungs heaving. “I cannot risk hurting you.”
Helena gave a nod, still feeling shocked by the raw emoti
ons she felt deep within him. She’d never slept with a man, but she imagined that this connection was far more intimate than anything she could experience from having sex with any other.
He cautiously slipped his hand away from her mouth, replaced it with his full lips, and returned to the task of savoring her body. Helena tried to relax, but feeling his hard muscles and velvety skin blanketing hers was too much. His strong thigh rested in between her legs, and his erection pushed against the inner side of her hipbone. That was not where she wanted it to be.
His hand slid down her neck, raking over her breasts, down her belly, until his fingers met her cleft. She gasped as he ran his finger up and down the center of her folds, pressing lightly on that sensitive spot aching for him. Helena’s mind tumbled to a place it had never been...pure pleasure.
He worked his thick fingers faster and deeper, coaxing from her body the eruption she craved. Her hips rocked towards his hand and suddenly she exploded.
She heard her cry simultaneously through her own ears and his. She felt her moans vibrate through him like a violent earthquake, shattering the fragile veneer of control he was trying to maintain.
Her own mind scrambled.
She’d just released the beast, the vampire. In the space of a heartbeat, Niccolo had thrust her thighs apart and positioned himself at her entrance, his mouth had moved to the base of her neck, his fangs about to pierce her skin.
She froze with fear as all tenderness evaporated from his mind and was replaced with savage emotions: hunger, lust, possession. His fangs pricking her skin. She felt the sting. She realized that he was right; he would break her. The primal instincts within him were too strong.
“No, Niccolo. Wait!” She pushed him back with all her force, but it was no match for his power. “I know you love me. Stop! Goddammit!”
The head of his hard cock was wedging its way inside her, and a part of her couldn’t believe she actually wanted him to stop; he felt so good, so right. But her fear of being sucked dry and broken as he unleashed his lust for her blood and body was stronger.
Accidentally Married To...a Vampire? Page 17