by Michele Hauf
And she greedily took more than she needed only because the taste was so sweet, so magical. She had not ever tasted such blood as his, nor had she enjoyed a drink more. And yet, she remained cautious for that telling soul shiver she always felt from her other donors. Minute, it often jittered only briefly, just enough to alert her.
“Mercy,” she said on a gasp as she managed to stop drinking. “You will get me drunk.”
“That good, eh?” He pulled her closer and caressed her breast. “Your bite is like sex. Just a little more?”
She nodded. “You...feel okay?”
“I feel all of my senses.”
“Really? And I haven’t felt your soul shudder yet.”
Maybe drinking from a dead guy was a good thing for her? She hadn’t considered it until now, but did he even have a soul? Usually the soul exited the body with death. Then again, he wasn’t a usual man.
She wasn’t about to question such fortune. Not when the thrill of taking a longer drink coaxed her to indulge.
Summer sucked out more, gorging herself on the treat. And when her body shimmered with a similar feeling to orgasm (but not quite) she licked the bite marks on his neck to seal the wound. As she stroked her tongue over his skin, Nicolo shuddered and cried out, his fingers gripping at her breast and the tree behind him.
His body sank before her until he sat at the base of the trunk. Then he moved forward onto his knees and, looking up at her, clasped her hands. “My mistress of decadent desires.”
Yeah, the swoon always served them well. Gave them a nice orgasm and left them riding a sexual high for a while after. Usually she used the thrall to ensure the human did not recall her bite and then quickly walked away. But not this time. No need to hide from this beautiful man.
“Did you...” he gasped, still enjoying the sensual high “...have an orgasm?”
“I usually don’t. But I feel something even better. I’ve never felt so...clear after taking blood before.” She squatted before him and studied his eyes. The pupils were large and dark. “You’re different. Together, we’re different.”
“That’s a good thing, yes?”
“Yes,” she said on a wondrous gasp. Had she finally found the one person she could drink from without endangering his soul from the volatile attack of madness?
She bowed her head to bump foreheads with him. “Let’s head home before the sun beats us.”
“As you wish.”
Once at the house, Summer walked through the front door, her lover dutifully following. Turning, he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. He was still in a bit of a swoon. They walked together, she backward, toward the kitchen, but as her foot stepped onto something squishy, he pushed her aside and charged into the kitchen.
Summer lifted her foot and inspected her shoe. “Mud? How did that—”
In the kitchen, her lover swore. Summer followed a trail of mud blops into the dimly lit kitchen. Nicolo stood before the steel counter, arms spread out as if to prevent himself from rushing forth.
On the counter, amidst mud and grass, sat the black violin. Intact.
Chapter 16
Nicolo approached the counter, hand outstretched. The violin gleamed like polished ebony nestled amidst muck and dirt. The strings were clean, the bow seemingly tightened and ready. The body of the instrument could not be wood but perhaps carved from the devil’s very horn.
And at that thought, he retracted, pressing his palms against his chest. His heartbeats thundered, but beyond that inner timpani he heard the seductive whispers. The silvery voice did not speak in Italian or French. He did not know the language. A diabolic babble?
And yet, he understood what it wanted.
Him.
“Nicolo, please don’t,” Summer said softly. Her hand touched his shoulder, and he flinched. The sexual high from her bite had dissipated. If he could feel that way all the time, he need never desire what gifts this wretched instrument could grant him.
“I thought you said you destroyed it” came out in hissing syllables.
“I did. I stepped on it and crushed it before burying it. It was shards and string. I don’t understand—well, yes.”
Well. Yes.
They both knew how it had been restored and now sat before him as the temptation it had been forged. So many times he had resisted. He had died a frail, sickly man who could no longer lift the violin to his chin for his staunch refusal to accept Himself’s offer. He’d left Achille to survive in the cruel world at such a young age.
And now he was being given a second chance.
To do what? His son was no longer alive. He could no longer claim his fame as Nicolo Paganini. He did not exist in this new age. He was lost and without a home. He had to rely on a woman’s kindness for clothing and food.
He could make his own way. He must. Without this wicked power. Because he still had the skill. He could play the violin as well as he once had. And with practice he would again rise to fame. But to what value?
What did he need now in his new life? And what was it worth to him to again resist the temptation? He had nothing. Would not such power make his adjustment to this world smoother?
Summer wrapped an arm across his back and stood beside him.
He had nothing? Change that. He had Summer. For now, at least.
“Do you want me to take it away again?” she asked. “Burn it to ash?”
“You don’t believe that will have any consequence on it reforming and returning to me yet again?”
She sighed. “If you play that violin, you become—”
“A monster? A devil? What if I merely become stronger, more powerful, my skills honed to an exquisite point?”
“You know that’s not what will happen. You’d be like him.”
“My father.”
An all-too-cheery bell rang in Summer’s pocket. She pulled out the witchbox and stepped away from Nicolo, yet she remained in the room, her eyes on him. “Yes?”
Nicolo could hear the conversation easily.
“It’s Ethan Pierce,” the caller said.
“What’s up? Got another mission for me?”
“Summer, there’s an issue with the Paganini violin. Certainly Jones reports it is missing and that you might have an idea about that. Are you still watching the man? We’ve made a decision regarding his incarceration. I’ll need you to come in. Immediately.”
“Sure.” Incarceration? She winced and turned away from Nicolo. “Now?” It was seven in the morning.
“What part of immediately do you not comprehend?”
“Right. Be, uh...right there.”
The phone clicked off. Nicolo cast her a wondering gaze.
She waggled the phone before her. “Work stuff.”
“That was your director. Asking after me. Are you going to turn me in?”
“Never.”
He clasped her hand. “Maybe you should? If you take me away from the violin then I can’t ever play it, yes?”
“I’m not sure what plans the director has for you. But I don’t expect they’ll be ‘Buy him a place to live and welcome him to this new age.’”
“I suspect not.”
“Nicolo.” She bracketed his face with her palms. “I want you here. As much as you shouldn’t be here, you do have a new life now. And I’m not going to let anyone take that away from you.”
“You are most kind. I feel the same. I rather enjoy the new now. And you.”
She kissed him. Too quickly. Did she really believe what she’d said to him? How could she possibly jeopardize her job to protect him?
“But what to do?” he asked.
“I’ll bring the violin to the Archives. CJ can bespell it. He did find a warding spell after it had disappeared the first time. I’m sure we
can take measures to secure it properly this time. Okay?”
He nodded. “Go quickly. I want to feel that thing in my hands.”
“Right.” She collected the violin, and as she did so the mud slipped from it, leaving not a trace on the glossy instrument. The case was not to be found, so she slipped the violin and bow under an arm then set it down. “I need to put real clothes on first.”
She slipped out of the wrap dress and into jeans and a T-shirt, then grabbed the violin and rushed toward the Audi.
“Wait!” Nicolo met her at the car’s hood. He reached for the bow, fingers shaking. Every bit of him needed to know the feeling of that bow in his right hand and the neck of the violin in his left.
“Kiss me,” she entreated.
Nicolo nodded. She had a plan, and he liked it. His hand slipped along her neck, and he fell into the sensational connection of breath, heartbeats and desire. A delicious foray that led him away from the call to darkness. So surprising, considering she had bitten him earlier and sucked out his blood. But she wasn’t darkness. Summer was brightness and joy. And he needed her if he was to resist temptation this time around.
“You are my brightness,” he said, bowing his forehead to hers.
She shoved him away and got inside the car. Nicolo closed his eyes, listening as the garage door rose and she backed out.
He’d give her a head start and then follow. He would not let that violin out of his sight. It demanded he play it.
And he would.
* * *
He was following her. Summer could feel him in the air. Not a scent or even a sighting. She’d had sex with him, skin against skin, mouth over mouth, heartbeats thudding against heartbeats. And she’d drunk his blood. He was inside her. And he had made her feel so clear. Because he wasn’t human? Likely.
Now she could feel him nearby. His heartbeats. The volume of his being occupying this realm. This thing between her and Nicolo had gotten intense. Fast. What was up with that?
She was heading to the home office to hand over the man’s violin and probably give up classified information about where to find him. Hell, she wouldn’t have to reveal his location; he was less than a hundred yards behind her. But she couldn’t not hand over the information. Her job depended on her alliance to Acquisitions.
Would she ultimately have to choose between being a Retriever and protecting Nicolo? She hoped not. Her job meant everything to her. And Nicolo...he meant more than she could fathom.
The Council headquarters housed the Archives, Acquisitions and Hexes & Curses, and various other departments, all under the Council’s supervision. The Archives library was vast, and while Summer had never been a stickler for studying and books, she often wondered what an afternoon in one of the Archives’ stacks might stir up.
“Probably something evil,” she muttered as she turned down a narrow passageway paved with uneven cobblestones. The violin was safely tucked under an arm, the bow in her other hand.
She paused and decided to backtrack. Best to get Nicolo out of the area before she went inside. As she stepped out of the alleyway and looked both ways, she didn’t see her stalker anywhere. Not even a stray tourist out on this overcast, cloudy morning. Had she actually lost him? She hadn’t been trying to.
Closing her eyes, she transferred her focus to sound. No footsteps, nor the subtle cadence of his breath. Yet their bodily connection—it existed.
Turning, she walked right into Nicolo. So maybe they weren’t as aligned bodily as she had thought. He gripped the bow and wrenched it from her hand. The violin slipped away without her realizing it.
“No!” She made a grab for the instrument, but he held it high above his head in one hand. “Nicolo, you can’t touch it!”
“I am touching it, and I haven’t turned into a wicked demon.”
“It doesn’t work that way!”
“How does it work?”
“Just give it back to me. You don’t want it. You know that. You’re a smart man. You have to resist its call to you.”
He lowered the instrument until the wide black body of it rested against his ear and shoulder. Eyes closing, he hummed in appreciation. “It feels so good. Like a part of me.”
“It’s not a part of you! But it will be a terrible part if you so much as draw that bow across a string.”
“Hmm. Shall we give it a go?”
“No, Nicolo. Please.” She knew all the begging in the world wouldn’t stop him, so she’d use force.
Summer pushed the man against the brick wall, not caring if the violin took on damage. With one hand he shoved her backward, but she didn’t have far to go with the opposite wall but three feet away. Her shoulders hitting the wall took the breath from her. He didn’t comprehend his immense strength.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Summer,” he warned. “Let me have this. It’s not something I can control.”
“Then let me help you.” Again she lunged, trying to grab the violin, but he held it out of her reach. Stepping back and taking a leap, she managed to grab it by the chin rest, and he let it go. She landed, crouched over and protecting the violin. Nicolo’s hand gripped a hank of her hair.
And then he shouted, and the bow dropped to the ground.
Summer twisted, still in a crouch. Nicolo stood surrounded by a crackling green electricity. And commanding that weird magic was a man who held his heavily tattooed fingers together to activate the spell, the dark witch Certainly Jones.
“You okay, Summer?” CJ called.
“Yes, fine. He can’t stop himself from trying to play the violin. He wasn’t going to hurt me.”
“Didn’t look that way to me.”
“What is this?” Nicolo tried to scrub off the green light with no success.
“A binding spell.” CJ approached Summer. “It won’t hold for long. I can feel a malevolent power fighting my own dark magic. What the hell is this guy? Who is he? I...I don’t think he has a soul.”
Summer sighed and clutched the violin to her chest. “He’s Paganini. I raised him from the dead when I found the violin and it accidentally played itself.”
“Accidentally played itself?”
“I know. But I didn’t do it. No soul? How do you know that?”
“I feel it. Or the lack of it. Vika, who you know has a sticky soul, has taught me to be sensitive to souls.”
Vika was the light witch Certainly had lived with for years.
“Wow,” she muttered. Was that why Nicolo didn’t seem to be affected by her bite? Why she hadn’t felt his soul shiver when she’d sunk her teeth into his vein? That could mean...so much.
“Summer?”
Dragging her thoughts away from what could be the most remarkable thing to happen to her, she gave CJ her full attention. “I’m on my way to talk to the director now. I know. I’m in deep shit.”
“About as deep as it gets.” CJ eyed the musician, who struggled as if bound. “Let me take the violin. This time I’ll bind it securely.”
She picked it up and handed it over to him. “You might want to use devil’s traps if you can. It’s cursed by the Big Guy.”
“We had our suspicions.” He shuddered as he received the instrument. “I’ll take this below to the Archives. You have a meeting.”
“What about him?”
“I’d estimate another five minutes before the binding is depleted.” The witch strode away.
“Get me out!”
Summer studied the green spell covering Nicolo as if an exoskeleton. “I’m sorry, Nicolo. It had to be done. CJ said it would wear off in a few minutes.”
“You’ve chosen your job over me. I knew it!”
“Not exactly. Unless you consider a meeting to get my ass kicked my choice. I’m not going to stop protecting you, Nicolo.”
�
��I don’t need your protection! I need...aggh! This is like sticky biting insects!”
Much as she wanted to rescue him from the irritant, he was right. He didn’t need her protection. And she needed to focus on her job right now. He’d be fine. “You can either wait out here or go back to the house.”
“I refuse! You will give me that violin.”
“I guess that means you’ll be waiting out here. I’m truly sorry. If there was any other way...”
“You do not care for me.”
So he would appeal to her emotions? Tough luck, buddy. Maybe.
Ah hell.
“I care too much. That’s the problem.” She sighed. Thankful, for once, that her emotions never did lead her to silly female dramatics. “If you wait for me I promise I’ll make it up to you. And maybe if you get away from the violin the call to it will be not so strong and you’ll start thinking straight again.”
“Summer, you wound me!” he called as she walked away and turned the corner.
It was tough leaving him there like that. But the binding wouldn’t hurt him, only cause humiliation. He was a big boy. He could handle it.
And if he really was without a soul? Now that could prove fortuitous.
Chapter 17
Once she’d wandered in to the Acquisition’s reception area Summer didn’t get a chance to say “hi” to the receptionist before the redhead gestured for her to head immediately into the director’s office.
She stepped onto the metal grate surrounded by a biometric scanner and waited as the machine read her stats. Vampire. Retriever for two years. Thirteen successful retrievals. Marked for termination? She hoped not.
She exhaled as the scanner flashed green, signaling she could walk forward through the tall wood doors that opened into Ethan Pierce’s office.
Pierce was also a vampire and kept his office dark and cool. She liked that. And he was an amiable man, always welcoming with his bright smile. Tufts of gray peppered above his ears in otherwise brown hair, so she’d often wondered how old he was. If vampire since birth it would take a long time to gray naturally. If he was a created vampire he could have been gray when it happened.