Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany)

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Mortal lover? Am I that to you?” She felt like she’d been slapped. “Am I your pleasure partner for randy afternoons at the Inn, or early morning sex when danger is lurking around the corner? When those that are close to me are dying? Who’s next? My students?”

  She dropped his hands and pushed him back so she could stand up.

  “Bella, I am truly sorry.”

  “Sorry? Sorry would have meant you wouldn’t have involved me. For all I know, they are only interested in me because of you. You knew this—both of you knew this,” she pointed to Marcus who was not smiling.

  “You bed me, made me—do things,” Cara frowned and shook off the sensual images of their sexual encounters. “I don’t take risks. I like adventure, but I don’t have a death wish, in case you—either of you—were wondering. I’d like to have my life back. I expect you will give that to me. No. I demand it.”

  “It isn’t that easy, Cara,” Marcus said through his teeth. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he spoke in monotone, choosing his words carefully. “I disagree with your conclusion. You involved yourself because you found something they want. If it weren’t for us, you’d be dead already. But, make no mistake, you will have your life back, but you’ll have to decide which life it is. Up to you how we handle this. We have limited options, but we will do what is best for our kind, there’s no question about that. And Paolo will do whatever it takes to protect his son. Barring that, you can have it any way you want.”

  “Except I can’t be Carabella Sampson, college professor, expert on the myths and mythology of vampires. No. I can’t have that back.”

  Marcus traced over to her so fast it scared her. She could feel the anger boiling in his chest. “Why on earth would you want that if it meant you’d be dead in a day, maybe less? You just stood there and told us you didn’t have a death wish, and now are pining like a sniveling child for a life that will mean certain death.”

  “Marcus!” Paulo inserted himself between his brother and Cara.

  Marcus stomped away, then abruptly turned and faced Paolo. “You see now why having a mortal girlfriend is not a good idea? Now you have to make the decision for her, since she’s incapable of deciding herself.”

  “How dare you—” She was going to run over to Marcus and scratch his eyes out, but Paolo held her back. “Let go of me. I want nothing to do with you. Either of you. You are keeping me here against my will.”

  “Bella, please. Listen to me,” Paolo said while defending himself against her blows.

  “I’m done listening to you. I’m—”

  Marcus had traced behind Cara, placing his fingers at her temples before she could react. Spots appeared before her eyes as she sank to the ground. Suddenly the whole world turned black.

  “What have you done?” Paolo said to his brother.

  “I’ve erased part of her recent memory. I gave her what she wanted. Not that she will live long to appreciate it.”

  “Marcus, you fool.”

  “No, Paolo. You are the fool. Trying to live in both the mortal and Golden vampire worlds. Your indecision has nearly cost her the only life she has. It still may. You should have left her alone. I told you this would be a problem. She is too strong-willed, and now she knows too much. This is the only way. If she won’t choose it, we will make the choice for her, for her own best interest. You will bring her back to her own place and she will not know anything of what has transpired today.”

  “But what about Johnny, and the book?”

  “I’ll want you to report on what she remembers. This isn’t an exact science. We have to erase any of her memory of you, Paolo, and certainly the book. You understand this is only for her own protection.”

  Paolo’s sadness eclipsed his need for her safety. For a brief moment, he thought about arguing with his brother. But he knew it was no use.

  Paolo bent and picked Cara up with one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees. One arm hung down and Marcus placed it gently on her stomach. Paolo looked down on the face of the woman he knew he loved and sighed. “I will take care of this. I’ll take her back to her apartment and stay with her while she revives.”

  “And say what? She may not know you.”

  “I’ll think of a pretense.”

  “And you have to be careful. You could be tracing into a battle zone.”

  “I’ll stay to the outside first, then I’ll enter. She will need to be somewhere where she feels safe and comfortable. Her office is not the right place.”

  “Good. Make it quick. I need you back here.”

  Paolo took a deep breath in and traced to outside the door of her apartment. A door down the hallway closed, but otherwise the floor seemed deserted. He opened her door, which was still unlocked, just as they had left it. He brought her to the bedroom. The smell of their tangled sheets was still in the air. But something else was there as well.

  Dag.

  He set Cara on the bed and strode into the living room to find the curtains drawn and Dag sitting on the lemon yellow leather chair in the darkened corner. It was the first time Paolo had seen a dark vamp in daylight hours, alive.

  “Greetings, cousin. Are you quite done with her? If you don’t mind, I might enjoy the leftovers.” Dag smiled. It was the first time Paolo recognized the scar that carried from Dag’s left brow down his cheek to the flair of his nose. Paolo’s beautiful sister had created the same sort of injury to a mortal would-be attacker one dark evening in the alleyway by a theater in New York City. He and Marcus had arrived just in time to trace her away with her two children.

  Even as a mortal, Dag had been a devil.

  Chapter 30

  Paolo cursed himself for not being more prepared, but he hadn’t expected any dark coven interference, since it was still daytime. Of course the dark Supreme Leader would show up himself. Which also meant he knew about the Paolo’s relationship with Cara. All the more reason he hoped his brother’s erasure worked. He also hoped it erred on the side of erasing too much information, rather than too little.

  He was careful to guard his thoughts from the clever coven leader.

  “Tell me how it is you are out and about in daylight hours?”

  “I’ve been feasting on Golden blood, cousin. You do know what happens when I drain a Golden?”

  Paolo tensed, waiting for the identification he knew Dag would be only too pleased to provide.

  “Young Rory was quite tasty, Paolo.” Dag strummed his fingers on the arm of the leather chair, which sounded like drumsticks across a skin with Paolo’s preternatural hearing. “He died badly. But he was quite generous with his blood, although he had not much of a choice. I promised to spare his sisters for a year.”

  Paolo felt his blood boil. The rage inside him was so strong he felt he could almost explode the whole building, killing them all. “You are an animal. You have no business feasting off innocents.”

  “Oh, Rory wasn’t innocent. He’d have killed my new executioner—me too, if your thugs hadn’t interfered. By the way, where is your protection detail?”

  “Where is yours?” Paolo asked.

  “Touché. So you can see I want to conduct business, since I have given you the advantage of showing up here alone.”

  “Her memory has been erased,” Paolo informed him, hoping that would make the leader lose interest.

  “Hmm. We shall see,” Dag shrugged. He suddenly stood. “May I see her?” His dazzling blue eyes, which were a rare occurrence amongst dark coven vamps, contained swirls of deep navy smoke. Paolo knew that was the anger brewing.

  “As if I could stop you. But be warned, she will not remember me or anything of what has transpired this morning.”

  “So she might not understand that she has been your lover, either. How sad for you.”

  “You assume too much.”

  “I’m giving you deference, just out of respect to your family, Paolo. Now, let me pass so I can check things out for myself.”

  Paolo knew Dag’s Achille
s’ heel was his impatience. He decided to string things along a bit, to irritate the dark vamp.

  “I will not let any harm come to her, even if she doesn’t remember me. She is an innocent. Surely you would rather pester someone who is more important—a bishop, or female knight. Why go after a pawn when you can have a queen?”

  “You mean Anne?”

  “I didn’t mean anyone. Just that this girl is unimportant now.”

  “Except that you will defend her to the death. I know you Monteleones. Very possessive of your women. Even if she doesn’t remember you, I’m willing to bet a thousand mortal souls you’ll remember every detail, every inch of her lovely body. And I’m also willing to bet you would protect her from me enjoying the same pleasures. Am I right, Cousin?”

  “I abhor unnecessary involvement of mortals.”

  “Which is why you should never fuck them, Paolo. You see, you are more like me than your pompous brother would like to admit. I thoroughly enjoy fucking mortal women. I drain them, and let them die, too. You should try it. Very exhilarating.”

  “Isn’t that sort of like killing or torturing your pets?” Paolo smelled Dag’s foul mood oozing from the dark vamp’s sweat. He wrinkled his nose. “Besides, if you smelled like that, how could anyone want to do anything but die after having you violate them?”

  “It’s the smell of my flesh rotting under the daytime sun. I don’t smell at night,” Dag said casually and appeared to be turning away. Without warning, he was on Paolo in a flash, hands clasped around Paolo’s neck, scratching to tear at his jugular.

  Paolo retaliated by tracing them both to the street corner in the center of downtown Santa Rosa, next to the park where the drunks and homeless camped out. Their fight would attract attention of onlookers who would never be questioned afterwards. Dag’s flesh would start to burn and the fight wouldn’t last long.

  The dark vamp howled like a wolf as his skin sizzled and bubbled, turning black.

  “You think you will win?” Paolo had pinned Dag’s arms behind him, and had reopened the scar on his cheek under his eye. “I’m going to let you go. But she will be protected, and you will give the order, Dag. Or you will have the wrath of the Monteleone family come down hard on your twisted little coven. You prepared to start the war today? Over someone who cannot help you in any way?”

  Dag yanked himself from Paolo’s grip. He traced to a dark overhang between two tall office buildings, licking his wounds, cursing. Paolo watched him touch the open wound with fingers covered in his own spittle. The deep gash was healing, but left blood on his collar. Dag would need fresh blood to satisfy the healing requirements of his sun scorch. Paolo entered the alleyway and held his nose at the stench.

  “Just be glad you didn’t do that in front of my men,” Dag hissed. “Your day will come, young Monteleone. Your family will mourn you, as they have all the children I have taken.” He looked up at Paolo, who stood several inches taller than the dark vamp. “Your children. Remember your children. Is she worth that?”

  Paolo wanted to grab the leader and tear off his head, but he didn’t have the permission he needed. Once Dag’s deeds could be verified, there would be time for a trial and his ending. Of that, Paolo was sure.

  “Slither off to your cave, snake. I will see you in battle. Until then, pick on people who are able to fight you one on one. Not an innocent. Or, are you going to further prove dark vamps have no honor?”

  “We don’t live for honor. We live for revenge.” Dag spat out. “Remember that when I take everything from you. It is revenge I fight for, and my rightful place above all the creatures of the world.”

  Dag disappeared, leaving Paolo in the darkened alleyway in front of a semicircle of homeless gentlemen and their shopping carts and puppies. Even the homeless, Paolo noted, didn’t mistreat their pets. There were some things mortals did better than vamps, or at least dark vamps.

  Paolo slowly began the walk back to Cara’s apartment, rather than tracing, in case someone was tracking him. He wished it were nighttime, so he could have the benefit of the Jett brothers entourage. He didn’t like the idea that he would have to be Cara’s daytime protector, even if Marcus allowed it. He knew Marcus had plans.

  The morning had started out so blissfully satisfying. It seemed as thought the God of vampires gave him one last gift of her body, before he would have to give her up forever. What was he thinking? Why had he not been able to stop from acting on the attraction to her at that dance? He was stronger than she was, and yet he couldn’t leave her alone. She’d called him her addiction. Wasn’t it really the other way around?

  Marcus was right, of course. But it didn’t mean he had to like it. Paolo could barely hope there was a solution to this mess that didn’t involve one or all of them perishing.

  Other walkers passed by him, on their way to meetings, work, or to a late breakfast or early lunch. He couldn’t hear their thoughts, and he was grateful he didn’t have those powers. But then, he wondered if he would be able to speak to Cara and she back to him now that her memory had been erased? Would that power disappear?

  He walked a little faster, turning the corner onto her street. He was anxious to see her revived, to assess the damage, if any, and where he might have to fix things Marcus had done. It wouldn’t be fair not to orient her properly so she wouldn’t walk right back into the same situation. He’d have to help Marcus with this, deciding how much to erase and what to leave intact.

  Perhaps she could still be a professor, studying myth and lore. Just not an expert on vampires. He wondered if this could be done. He wondered if he could enroll in one of her classes just to be near her. Would it pain his heart to have her answer a question he would pose in class, and have him think about how beautifully their bodies had mingled while she merely answered the question with no such knowledge?

  He decided that, if it were required, he could do it.

  But, Marcus, don’t ask me to stay away.

  He heard Marcus’ booming thoughts. Wake her up. We have little time, brother. I need you back here, not wandering around the streets worrying about someone you should not think about. Please be quick. There is news.

  Paolo did as he was told and traced to her door, knocking softly on the frame. He heard shuffling inside, and then heard a chain pulled across the door he knew was still unlocked. She opened it a crack, her hair disheveled, sleep still blurring her eyes. Her full red lips were beautiful and called to him.

  “Yes?”

  “Sorry, miss. I’m with campus security at the University. You are professor Cara Sampson?” He hoped she remembered who she was.

  She looked puzzled for a moment. “Wow. I had one whopper of a dream and just woke up. But yes, I’m Cara Sampson. Is something wrong?”

  Paolo decided to try a little glamour. He sighed, sending some of his breath her way. Right on cue, she reeled backward, her eyes crossing.

  “I’m sorry. Feeling light-headed right now. Can you come back later?”

  “Are you all right?” he asked. He wanted to touch her. He could steady her if he could touch any portion of her skin. He sent a suggestion she release the metal chain. She drew her brows down over the top of her nose as she concentrated on the chain, and then allowed her fingers to slip it loose.

  She turned and walked down the hall away from him, which gave Paolo the opportunity to check out the empty hallway and close her door behind him.

  “Here, please sit down. Let me get you a drink of water,” he said as he took hold of her wrist. He could feel his calming powers spreading through her body. God, how he wished he could light a flame under her flesh again. He stuffed down the feeling.

  Cara sat on the leather chair where Dag had sat no more than an hour before. She brushed the hair from her forehead and leaned back, revealing her long creamy neck. Paolo dashed to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and coming back to present it to her. Their fingers touched as she took the glass. She jumped.

  “Wow. Static electricity,” she
said as she took a long swallow. Paolo watched the delicate muscles in her neck move. He could still smell the remnants of sex in the room. He was getting hard, and he said a private curse to his errant body part. But it didn’t listen.

  “So, what does campus security want with me?”

  Paolo didn’t know whether or not to tell her about Johnny. She didn’t appear to recognize him, so perhaps she didn’t remember the dance. He decided to take a chance.

  “When was the last time you saw your Research Assistant, Johnny Merrill?”

  She took another sip of the water and set the glass on the coffee table. “Let’s see, would be yesterday—no wait, maybe the day before. I’m supposed to meet him later tonight for a Halloween party.”

  “Halloween was two nights ago. Someone is having a party after the fact?” he asked, amused she didn’t remember the party or spending intimate time with him at the bar.

  “Something fuzzy is going on inside my head, like I’ve been sleeping for a week. Is everything okay? Is Johnny okay?”

  “I’m afraid he’s been found dead.”

  Her eyes got large and shimmered with tears. “What?”

  “This morning, as a matter of fact. Forgive me if I impose, but you were there. You don’t remember?”

  She arched up and sat straight. “Don’t you think I’d remember if I saw my best friend die? Where did he die, anyway?”

  “Your office. He’d been murdered.”

  “Murdered! This morning?”

  “We aren’t sure. But you found him. You’ve already talked to the police. You don’t remember any of this?”

  She shook her head from side to side. “None of this.” She held her head between her palms and began of cry. “What’s happening to me?”

  Paolo wanted in the worst way to take her in his arms. “I am so sorry, miss. I have seen this happen before. Sometimes graphic events do this to people and their memories. I’m glad I was here to give you the news. Wouldn’t want you to find out on the news, or in class.”