by Lynsay Sands
It didn’t sound as if Vasco thought that would be too much of a tragedy, Jess noticed, but was more concerned with Raffaele’s answer to the question. It had, after all, been one of her first concerns after seeing Zanipolo’s fangs and the two men feeding on the bagged blood. Had Raffaele bitten her? Was that why she’d fainted after sex each time?
“Of course I haven’t bitten her,” Raffaele snapped, scowling at the pirate. “She had no idea what we were, so couldn’t give consent, and—unlike you—I am not a—”
“The fainting was because you are possible life mates,” Ildaria announced, apparently having read the questions in Jess’s mind, and no doubt more than happy to use answering it for her as a way to prevent a fight between her captain and Raffaele. When the two men fell silent, and Jess glanced to her in question, the woman nodded. “It is common between life mates to faint after—”
Ildaria stopped abruptly, and Jess followed her gaze to Vasco just in time to glimpse the pain on his face. But then his expression closed, hiding it.
Sighing, Jess lowered her head. The things Ildaria had told her about him suggested Vasco was a good man. There was much more to him than the bluff, laughing pirate he presented to the world. In fact, she’d noted more than once that when he got distracted, his speech lost much of its colorful-sounding piratiness. Which she knew wasn’t a word, but felt should be. There was no other way to describe the man when he was in full-on pirate mode.
“So,” Vasco said abruptly, drawing her attention again. “Knowing what we are now, can ye see yer way clear to being a life mate and spending the rest o’ yer days enjoying the bliss of shared pleasure with your life mate, and—”
“Whoa, back it up,” Jess interrupted sharply. Arching an eyebrow, she asked, “Shared pleasure?”
Vasco peered at her nonplussed for a moment and then glanced from her to Raffaele and back. “I assumed from the things ye’ve said, that the two o’ ye had . . .” He glanced back to Raffaele. “Did ye not show her the benefits o’ shared pleasure?”
Raffaele glared at him resentfully for a moment, but then sighed and admitted, “No. I couldn’t explain what she was experiencing, so didn’t let her touch me. Or tried not to at least.”
Jess eyed him silently, recalling the few times she’d managed to touch him. She remembered feeling a wave of excitement and pleasure roll through her. It had seemed to come out of nowhere, and couldn’t be explained by what Raffaele had been doing at the time. Was that the shared pleasure they were talking about?
“Oh, lass,” Vasco breathed, turning on her with wonder. “Ye’ve so much yet to experience. The Notte’s barely scratched the surface. Ye’ve no idea o’ what ye can do. How pleasuring yer partner can bring ye pleasure too, intensifying it for ye.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “And ye thought what ye experienced was mind-blowing. Wait until ye experience that.”
Jess glanced at Raffaele uncertainly. “You mean it gets even better than what we . . . ?” The thought was almost frightening. Jess was quite sure that any more pleasure than he’d already shown her would kill her. Her heart wouldn’t be able to take it.
“Not better,” Raffaele said, glaring at Vasco, and then shifting his full attention to her, he explained, “Just different. The pleasure is shared between life mates. You experience your own pleasure, plus your partner’s. So that when you are . . . performing acts on them,” he said delicately, “you experience their pleasure as well.”
“He’s talking about gamahuche,” Vasco said with disgust, and when Jess stared at him blankly, he frowned and admitted, “Well, that’s an old term. Ye maybe never heard it. How about pearl diving? No?” He frowned when her expression remained blank, and then said, “Clam-lapping? Fish-licking? Eating the peach? No?” he said again, and frowned. “Damn me, this is—What about fanny-noshing? No? Dinner beneath the bridge? Mumbling in the moss? Tipping the velvet.”
“Oral sex,” Ildaria said with exasperation before the man could continue.
“Oh,” Jess said with understanding, but the way Ildaria’s mouth twitched as her eyes narrowed on her told Jess the woman knew she’d just been pretending not to understand to see how many outrageous ways the man had to describe going down on a woman. He had a lot of them, she noted, and wondered if that meant he was as good at it as Raffaele.
“Right,” Vasco said with apparent relief. “That oral business.”
“I see,” Jess said primly, and then bit her lip to keep from laughing at his kerfuffled expression. Honestly, it was nice to not feel like the bewildered one for a change. Half of what he said went right over her head.
“Anyway,” he said now on a sigh, “as ye know, yer choice is either to accept the Notte as a life mate. Or me,” he added, glaring at Raffaele as if daring him to protest his including himself. “Or to refuse and reject us both and go on with yer life.”
Jess nodded, but then noticed Zanipolo’s troubled expression and the way everyone else was suddenly avoiding her eyes, and asked suspiciously, “Why do I have the feeling that means more than just my saying, ‘No thank you,’ and flying home?”
“Because ye’re no son of a biscuit, lass,” Vasco said quietly.
Hoping that meant she wasn’t stupid, Jess raised her eyebrows. “So, what else does saying no mean?”
“It means that your memory would be wiped of everything having to do with me,” Raffaele said quietly, and then corrected it to, “Us, really,” as he gestured at the people around her.
Jess stilled. “Wiped? What is that?”
“What it sounds like,” Raffaele said solemnly. “You would leave Punta Cana with some vague memory that you had a lovely time, but with no recall of myself, Zani, Santo, or any of the other immortals you’ve met here.”
“Or immortals at all,” Ildaria added quietly. “You wouldn’t remember that we exist in the world. You could go back to feeling safe in your ignorance.”
The way she said it told Jess that Ildaria had been poking in her mind again, because that was exactly what she’d been wishing for earlier. And Jess had meant it at the time. Or had thought she did. But, oddly enough, now that she knew that was possible, it wasn’t looking so attractive. Not remembering having met Raffaele? Never remembering how good and kind and caring he’d been? Or how incredible sex with him had been? The very idea felt like someone was trying to wrench her heart out of her chest.
“Well, lass?” Vasco asked solemnly. “What’ll it be?”
Panic claiming her, Jess stalled with questions. “Ildaria said that life mates can’t read or control each other. Is that true?”
“Aye,” Vasco answered.
“Yes,” Raffaele assured her at the same time, and then smiled wryly, and added, “That’s what makes life mates so special. Each one can be their own person. We can relax with each other, let our guard down, without fearing that someone will be poking in our thoughts. And, of course, not being able to control each other is a benefit as well.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because if the ability is there, so is the temptation to use it,” he explained, and then seeming to realize that she didn’t really understand, he continued. “Think of it. What if you were arguing with someone, and you were sure you were right, but they were stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that? Now imagine that same argument, but while you have the ability to just change their mind and make them see things your way? Could you resist doing it?”
Jess wanted to say yes, of course, but there were some pretty stupid people in the world, and she wasn’t at all sure she would be able to just not take control and make them see things her way, which—right or wrong—she obviously believed was the right one.
“Having a mate you could control means winning every argument, because you can make them agree with you,” Raffaele said quietly. “But it’s as good as living alone, or with a blow-up doll. They would do what you want, when you want, because you make it so.” He shook his head. “It’s just better and healthier to have a real partner, one wi
th thoughts and ideas of their own, and whom you can’t control. It makes them special.”
“Of course, life mate passion is a hell of a benefit too,” Vasco reminded her, obviously feeling left out.
Jess smiled at him faintly, but asked, “Is it awful having to drink blood?”
“We don’t exactly drink it,” Raffaele said at once. “At least, not normally. Usually we feed from bagged blood, which is popped onto our fangs. They do all the work, without our ever having to taste it if we don’t want to.”
“Really?” she asked with relief, and thought the not-tasting-it part sounded good. Jess definitely didn’t think she could ingest the blood if she had to drink it like tomato juice. Realizing the path her thoughts were taking, Jess shook her head and sat up straight. Was she really considering agreeing to be Raffaele’s life mate and allowing him to turn her? Jess was pretty sure she was. At least, she couldn’t seem to accept the idea of refusing him and having him wiped from her memory as if he’d never been in her life. And now that they had explained their origins, and convinced her that they weren’t some evil, cursed demon race of beings who would steal her soul . . . But—
Raising her head, she asked Raffaele, “What if they’re wrong?”
“Who?” he asked with confusion.
“The nanos,” she explained. “What if I agree to be your life mate and it turns out we don’t get along, or—”
“That won’t happen,” Raffaele assured her firmly, settling himself on the bed next to her and meeting her gaze solemnly. “I’ve lived a long time, and seen many, many life mate pairings, and not one of those pairings has been a mistake. I don’t know how they do it, or if it’s even really the nanos that do it, but once an immortal finds their life mate, it’s never wrong. My own parents have been together for longer than I’ve been alive and are still very happy together, and my grandparents have been together since Atlantis.”
“And you’re sure that’s what I am? That I’m a life mate for you?”
“Sì,” he said solemnly.
“But how can you be sure?”
“Because I can’t read or control you. Because we enjoy the shared pleasure. And because my appetite for food and sex has returned. All of those things together tell me that you are my life mate.”
Jess wondered about the bit about his appetite for sex and food returning, but left it for now, and asked, “But then how can I be a possible life mate to Vasco too?”
Raffaele shifted his gaze to Vasco and then sighed. “It does not happen often, but sometimes a situation occurs where one person could be a life mate to two different immortals. It is always a difficult situation, and painful for the one not chosen. But a choice must be made.”
“Or we could share her,” Vasco said suddenly.
Jess glanced around with amazement at the suggestion. She hadn’t even considered that. But didn’t think she wanted to either. She’d come to like Vasco a bit now that she’d seen more of him than his delight with her tuzzy-muzzy and jugs. She even respected him for how he was trying to help the poorer immortals who couldn’t afford the blood they needed, but not enough to spend a lifetime hearing him spout things like “Let me grope for trout in your river, and gnaw on your jugs.” She just couldn’t do it.
“Or I could kill you,” Raffaele said silkily.
Vasco raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean that sharing is out?”
When Raffaele glowered at him, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “No sense o’ humor at all.” Turning to Jess, he asked, “So, are ye agreeing to be this landlubber’s life mate, or no?”
Jess bit her lip and tried to imagine it, and then her eyes closed as the possibilities slid over her. She could have all those things she’d told Ildaria and Vasco that she wanted with Raffaele. She could go to Italy with him, swim in his pool, see the buildings he’d designed, meet his family, both there and in Canada. And she could show him her home in Montana. They could watch action movies, and Supernatural and do crosswords, have crazy hot sex on tabletops, and against the wall . . . and dammit, she wanted that life, Jess admitted to herself, and opened her eyes to stare at Raffaele.
For a moment, that was all she did. She stared at him. Imagining seeing his face every morning when she opened her eyes, and every night before she closed them. And imagining the beautiful children he could give her, and then she smiled at him. That was all, just a smile. But it was enough.
“I’m guessing that’s a yes,” Vasco growled when Raffaele smiled back. But when she leaned toward Raffaele, Vasco barked, “Do not even think o’ it, lass. In fact, get off me bed. Off, off, off.”
“I was just going to give him a kiss,” Jess said defensively as Raffaele stood and offered her his hand to help her up.
“Aye, and we all know where that would have led. I’d rather savor me memories o’ you and me in that bed, without clouding them with this big ugly mug beside ye, thank ye very much,” Vasco said dryly.
Jess felt the blush that heated her face, but she also felt Raffaele stiffen next to her, so she wasn’t surprised when she turned to find him eyeing the pirate like he was something that he wanted to squish under his shoe. Or at least punch. Fortunately, they were all distracted when the phone chose that moment to ring.
The sound was so unexpected that Jess actually gave a start of surprise. Glancing around then, she saw Zanipolo pull a cell phone from his pocket and frown as he looked at the number showing.
“It’s a local number,” he said with bewilderment.
“Probably the Enforcers who were supposed to meet us,” Raffaele said with disgust.
“You called the local Enforcers?” Jess asked with worry as she saw the glances exchanged between Vasco, Cristo, and Ildaria.
“Sì.” Raffaele smiled wryly, his arm sliding around her shoulders as Zanipolo answered the phone. “Not that we needed them in the end. A good thing since they didn’t bother coming out. They are probably calling to say they can’t come.”
Everyone stood silent and still as Zanipolo told whoever was on the other end of the line that everything was fine and their assistance was no longer needed. Noting his frown as he listened to the caller’s response to that, Jess wasn’t surprised when he ended the call and said with concern, “They were calling to see where we were. They’re here in the harbor. I told them it was fine, and everything was resolved, but they’re coming out to the boat anyway. They said there are things they need to take care of.”
“Who said that?” Vasco asked, his voice hard.
“The Enforcers Lucian got the South American Council to send out,” Zanipolo said, looking uncomfortable. “Miguel something.”
“Villaverde,” Ildaria breathed, paling.
“That’s it, yeah. And a something-or-other Cardoso.”
“Dieguito,” Cristo muttered.
“That’s it.” Zanipolo nodded. “Dieguito. I’ve never heard the name before.”
Cristo wasn’t listening; he’d turned to Vasco. “Capitan—”
“I know,” Vasco growled, and then sighed and ran a hand around the back of his neck before turning to Jess, Raffaele, and his cousins to bark, “Stay here. It will be safer for you not to get involved.”
On that cryptic note, Vasco headed for the door. But when Ildaria and Cristo started to follow, he paused and blocked the woman’s path. “Ye’re not going, Ildaria. Stay here and out of sight,” he ordered firmly. “I’ll not see ye beheaded and burned today.”
He waited just long enough for Ildaria to give a reluctant nod, and then led Cristo out of the cabin.
Sixteen
Jess watched the cabin door close behind Vasco and Cristo and then slipped out from under Raffaele’s arm and crossed the room to Ildaria. The other woman was just standing in front of the door staring at it. Reaching her, she took her hands, concerned when she noted how cold they were. Beginning to chafe them, she asked quietly, “What did he mean he won’t see you beheaded and burned today, Ildaria?”
Sighing wearily, Ildaria sta
red down at their hands and murmured, “I told you if the Council caught wind of my feeding on that lamecharcos Tyler before we were in international waters they’d execute me,” she reminded her, and then shrugged unhappily. “Miguel and Dieguito are Enforcers. They basically do what the Council tells them.”
“Yes, but I didn’t tell the Council,” Jess assured her, relaxing a little. “I didn’t even tell Raffaele and his cousins.”
Ildaria tugged her hands free and paced toward the desk, apparently too agitated to stand still. “The cousins would have read it from your memories.”
Jess glanced toward the men, and knew at once from the guilty expressions on Zanipolo’s and Santo’s faces that Ildaria was right. The two men had read her mind. She scowled at them for it, and then moved toward Ildaria as the woman continued, unhappily. “And no doubt they mentioned what they learned to whoever they called at the Council. Otherwise Dieguito and Miguel wouldn’t be here,” she assured her.
“No,” Zanipolo said at once when Jess glanced toward the men again. Grimacing, he admitted reluctantly, “We didn’t tell the South American Council. We told Lucian, the head of the North American Council, and he probably told whoever he talked to at the South American Council.”
Jess sighed with disappointment, knowing that meant that this Miguel and Dieguito probably were here to execute Ildaria. She scowled at the men for blabbing.
Santo and Zanipolo appeared uncomfortable, even guilty, under the look, but Raffaele frowned and moved to join her and Ildaria by the desk. Zanipolo and Santo immediately followed. She knew they weren’t moving closer to hear better. With their nano-hearing, they’d heard fine from where they were. They were offering their support, and perhaps even help if they could. Jess nodded silently in acknowledgment, but then turned to Ildaria as the woman continued.
“Miguel, especially, wouldn’t bother coming out unless he thought he had something that could be used to force Vasco back into the family fold. He is Vasco’s brother,” she told her grimly, but then moaned and muttered, “They’ll threaten to execute me as a rogue unless he gets back in line and does what his father wants.”