Those Whose Hearts (Vampire Assassin League Book 34)

by Jackie Ivie

  “Are you covered?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “Uh. No.”

  “Quickly, love! We need to leave!”

  “The chateau?”

  “The country.”

  “You’re leaving France?”

  “No. We are leaving France. I have no choice, darling. I just received word.”

  “Word...of what?”

  “Apparently, gendarmes do not overlook interference with their medical transportation vehicles. Or the attendant crew. Regardless of provocation.”

  “Medical transportation? What?”

  “I had a bit of trouble after the ball the other night.”

  “Trouble? You?” she teased.

  “I cannot do anything without being noticed!”

  “Really? Hmm. I wonder why,” she commented.

  While they spoke, Simone had moved from behind the instrument, swung the jacket over her shoulders. Shoved her arms into sleeves and fastened buttons, all the while aware that the satin lining had been warmed from contact with him...and totally aware and attune to how wondrous that felt. The collar slid continually off her shoulders, the gap at her neck was considerable, but the hem reached her knees. She rolled back cuffs that overhung her hands as he answered.

  “It is a curse, I tell you! Are you presentable, love?”

  “Barely,” she quipped.

  “Excellent.” He spun. A brow lifted. Her heart stuttered. “I see your point. I’d best carry you. Here. I’ve got your instrument.”

  He pulled her to his side with one hand, grabbed the cello it by its throat with his other. She snatched up the bow. A moment later they were at a door. A blur of time took them outside. Acres of forest were traversed almost instantly, while he zigzagged around trees and obstacles. The sound of a jet engine cut the night as they cleared the forest. She got a glimpse of an airstrip before Reynaldo flew into a hangar, bent forward, holding her tightly to him, and went right through a very small door. He landed without hesitation or even a jolt in a large cushy-looking chair. He didn’t let her go. The cello was set on the floor beside him, while she unfolded atop his lap.

  The bow hadn’t made the journey intact. The wood had split. Trailing bow hairs linked it together. Simone looked at it, and then dropped it behind her.

  “I am sorry about your bow.”

  She shrugged. The jacket didn’t make the move. It slid onto her shoulders, creating a portrait neckline that was scandalously low. But she couldn’t have planned a better pose. He glanced at her revealed cleavage then back to her eyes. His shudder shook them both. Simone smiled.

  “Perhaps...I had best set you in your own seat,” he commented.

  “You really move fast,” she remarked instead.

  “Yes. It is but one...benefit.”

  “To what?”

  “I shall explain everything, darling. Once we are airborne.” Reynaldo leaned back and flipped a switch on the cabin wall behind his head. There was an electronic beep. “Stan! You there?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Get us out of here!”

  “You got it.”

  The connection closed with another beep. The fuselage around them trembled. The jet moved, and seconds later it picked up speed.

  “So. Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I have a castle in the Rhine River valley. It is...a good time of year to visit it. Cold, but dark.”

  “I’d rather see your palazzo in Venice.”

  “Oh. Apologies, love. I am not to go back there for a bit. There was a bit of trouble with the authorities, and...well....”

  “There, too?”

  “I cannot go anywhere without creating notice! It is a curse, I tell you!”

  Simone had never flown a private jet before, nor lifted off from a private air field. Lack of notice before lift-off was just one difference. The steep incline another. Simone tightened her thighs to grip Reynaldo’s leg. His sword scabbard smashed into her calf. She held the jacket to her in order to lean forward, but felt the back open with her move. She pushed the hilt slightly. He was watching her and breathing hard when she sat back. There was a distinctive lump beneath her thighs, too. That was gratifying, and difficult to disregard. Almost as difficult as keeping her gaze affixed to his. And trying not to notice how he’d moved his lips, making them look even more kissable somehow.

  And if she didn’t say something fast, that was exactly what was going to happen.

  “Um. The sword is new,” she finally said.

  He took a quick breath. The part she sat atop twinged gratifyingly.

  “It’s actually sixteenth century,” he replied with a gruff deep tone.

  “I know that. I mean it’s a new addition to your look.”

  “What look?”

  “You are not exactly a modern man, Reynaldo.”

  “Really? Well. For you, I will update my wardrobe. I cannot do a thing about my hair, however.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. You could always sport a man-bun.”

  “A what?”

  He stared at her in dismay, as if correctly interpreting the phrase, and it was not at all to his liking.

  “I’m kidding, Reynaldo. And, really. There’s no need for any of that.”

  “Oh, darling, please? You cannot speak of turning my proposal down! Not yet! Allow me to plead my case first! Please? I am begging here!”

  Simone smiled. He was so dramatic. Vividly theatrical. Over-the-top impressive. And that was all pretty much perfect.

  “I meant it looks good on you, Reynaldo. The old-fashioned attire. The old-world foreign title stuff. The hair. You are quite the package. The sword just adds to it.”

  “But it is not to your liking?” he asked.

  “I didn’t say that. I was merely making a comment because this is the first time I’ve seen you with a weapon.”

  “I was not leaving the chateau before.”

  “You need a weapon when you travel?”

  “Only this particular sword.”

  “Family heirloom?”

  “Worse.”

  “How is there a worse to a family heirloom?”

  “This is the weapon my cousin owned just before he died.”

  “And you kept it as a remembrance. I see.”

  “No, darling. He was a murderous bastard and I lopped his head off for it.”

  “For a sword? That sounds incredibly...brutal, Reynaldo.”

  “No. For his murderous act. He was my heir. He wanted my title, along with the Moroseni fortune and properties. He caught me unaware one night. And before you ask, darling. I’ve never lost a swordfight.”

  “So, you won a swordfight with him. Okay...but why keep the sword? I mean, I studied art not medieval lifestyles of the rich and famous. Is it like...a trophy or something?”

  “I have this sword because it was lodged in my back.”

  “Holy crap. No wonder you lopped his head off. So...um. I’m going to guess this happened...what was that number again? Four hundred and ninety-something years ago. Am I right?”

  His eyes widened and he stared. And then the most beatific expression filtered across his features. It made him even more damned beautiful.

  “You believe me?”

  “Maybe,” she teased.

  “Oh, darling! You have no idea what this means to me!”

  The jet leveled off. Simone relaxed her grip on Reynaldo’s leg. Sat back to lean against an armrest. Regarded him with what she hoped was a blank expression. It was best she could manage.

  “Reynaldo.”

  “Wait! First I must tell you that I have asked our leader if there is a medical, chemical, or physical explanation for vampirism so I will have an explanation for you.”

  “Our...leader?”

  “I am not the lone vampire, my love. I belong to an association of them, and—!” He cut off the words, and glared beseechingly at her. “I have barely started and this is already bad!”

  “There are more vampires?”

&nbs
p; “Yes.”

  “How many?”

  “I do not know. I can probably find out, but I will need some time.”

  “Where are all these vampires?”

  “In locations throughout the globe.”

  “No way. Surely there would be a record of it.”

  “There is, but everyone calls it fiction. Which is exactly how we like it. We stay hidden for that reason. Well. We try. In my case, it is almost impossible, however. I cannot go anywhere without creating notice! It is a curse, and—!” He’d tossed a hand up dramatically but then lowered it. He finished speaking with a lot less emphasis, “...and I have said that enough. I can tell from your face.”

  Simone struggled to remain straight-faced. “Are you telling me there is a field of subjects I could test for scientific verification and research?”

  “Do not stick a needle in them. That is what created my medical transport problem, and why we had to flee France. Remember?”

  “I see. I think. So. What is so bad about it?”

  His face fell. He looked down at her lips. Back to her eyes. And the lump beneath her shifted.

  “This association I belong to. It is called the Vampire Assassin League.”

  Simone blinked a few times. “Assassin?”

  He nodded. “I even have an assignment yet to fulfill. I shall open it now. Would you like to verify?”

  Simone opened her mouth. Shut it. Nodded.

  He moved his arm from her and ran his finger along a sensor in the armrest. They both watched words appear on the front wall.

  ‘You may not wish to miss the winter ball at the Chateau Boreonne.’

  “What the devil?” Reynaldo expostulated. “He knew this would happen?”

  “Who knew?”

  “Our leader! He knew I needed to be there! Because he knew you would be there! Accidenti! The least he could have done was tell me beforehand! Oh. Wait. It is dated before the ball.”

  He sighed heavily, lifting her with it.

  “I am such a coglione,” he finished.

  “That doesn’t look like an assignment to kill people,” Simone remarked. And then it occurred to her. “Unless...? Was the balcony collapse your doing? And was it a hit?”

  “No, darling. And yes. But no.”

  “Explain.”

  “No, it was not my doing, and yes, I was on said balcony. My weight was a contributing factor. But, no. It was not a sanctioned hit.”

  “But you do kill people for a fee?”

  “Only those who - like my cousin - deserve it.”

  “And that makes it okay?”

  “My love, wait! Please? Allow me to explain. Or, rather...finish explaining. When Akron came upon me, I was in complete agony. A sword may be an elegant weapon, but it leaves an inelegant wound. I was beside a canal, coughing up blood. Cursing fate. Meanwhile, my cousin was on his way to assuming my life. I was given the choice: death or the chance to avenge a wrong. Along with the means to continue to do so. I jumped at the offer.”

  It was quiet for a span. Simone gazed into honest blue eyes and tried to detest something about his story. Given the same circumstance...she didn’t know what she’d have done. “I see,” she finally said.

  “And now, I must finish this. Give you a full confession. And hope against hope that you will not turn from me. And I must tell you, Simone. This is the most difficult moment of my existence.”

  His voice broke. He looked down. Fished something out of his breast pocket. Unfurled it to reveal a small square of striped ticking. Ran a thumb along it with reverence. Lifted it to his lips. Took a deep breath. And spoke.

  “I have this particular sword because a vampire must keep something from their spot of changing. It is the same reason...I have this.”

  “And that is?” she prompted.

  “A small piece of mattress from the countess suite...in my French chateau in the Loire Valley. The entire bed is safely hidden away. We can get more whenever we need.”

  “Why do you have it?”

  “Oh, Simone! I love you. I need you! But you will hate me. I hate me! What happened was unforgiveable...and there is nothing I can do to change it! I have such desire for you! Here I am trying to be innocuous and plead my case without causing upset, and look. Just look! I cannot contain my craving for you now!”

  She knew that much even without the lunge he made. She could feel his erection drilling toward her through leather pants and his coat. Far from creating upset, however, it thrilled. Excited. And inordinately pleased.

  “You see...a vampire is an undead creature. Without emotion. Without sensation. Without passions. Unless they get their mate. And they only get one.”

  “Just one, huh?”

  “You are my mate, Simone.” He glanced at her then turned his head, and everything about him tensed. He spoke the rest of his words to the cabin wall. “But I will not blame you if you do not accept my suit. I am a failure at self-control. When I needed my strength the most...it failed me.”

  “I am a vampire?” she asked. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

  He paled. Started trembling. A nerve worked in his cheek as he set his jaw. And then he nodded.

  “Well. This wasn’t how I expected my life to go, but—.”

  He jerked his head back to face her. His eyes wide, glossed with a sheen of moisture, and enough to make anyone swoon.

  “My darling! Oh, my love!” He leapt from the seat, and danced about the cabin, holding her against him.

  “I haven’t said anything yet, Reynaldo.”

  He stopped. Pulled back. Tilted his chin. Lifted his brows. That look of his really was over-kill.

  “But your answer is yes! You are saying yes? Please say the answer is yes! Please?”

  “You want my answer?” she asked.

  He was instantly solemn. And instantly taut again.

  “Okay. You got it. I have realized that there is something bigger than facts and figures and laboratory results. I know this now because...”

  “Because?” he asked hopefully.

  She smiled. “Because I have fallen in love with a vamp—!”

  He snatched the rest of her avowal with his kiss. And, after all, in a fairytale fantasy, that truly was just fairytale perfection.

  About the Author

  Jackie Ivie lives in the enormous state of Alaska. She started her writing career writing hot highland historical romances for Kensington Publishing. There are now ten “Clans series” books, available in seven languages. Keeping her head in the clouds most of the time, Jackie now spends her time researching, developing, and writing her three paranormal series – the Vampire Assassin League, Chronicles of the Hunters, The Portals of Time, as well as her other historical line – the Brocade Collection.

  Jackie loves hearing from fans, who can contact her at

  www.jackieivie.com or www.VampireAssassinLeague.com

  Want to keep up with the assassins of the Vampire Assassin League? Consider joining the Assassin Street Team at

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  THOSE WHOSE HEARTS is the 34TH installment of the Vampire Assassin League. Check out all the assassins in the VAL, available singly, in 4-book bundles, 10-book mega sets, and in print as 2-packs.

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  Copyright © 2018 Jackie Ivie

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