Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany)

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Sir? You want something?”

  “I just remembered. I forgot something at the house.”

  “But you will miss your flight if we return there now.”

  “But I have to go back.”

  “Sir, should I call the airline and see if you can take a later flight? I am quite sure you will miss your flight.”

  Paolo wished he’d taken his brother up on the offer to take a private charter, where he could show up late and they’d wait for him. Paolo had insisted on paying for his own way, taking a first class commercial flight.

  The driver was waiting for an answer.

  “Let’s stop at Starbuck’s. I need to use the rest room. I’ll see if I can get hold of someone at the house. Perhaps they can mail it to me,” Paolo lied.

  “Very well, sir.” The driver resumed his duties, pulling up to a Starbuck’s within minutes.

  Paolo didn’t want to leave Lucius in the car, so he instructed him to accompany him inside. “You want anything?” he asked the driver.

  “No thanks. We come stocked. I don’t drink coffee, affects my nerves, not to mention my driving.”

  “Nasty habit. Lucius and I will be right out.” He helped his son inside the shop and heard the familiar scream of the espresso machines. “You go first, Lucius. I’ll get you, what, a hot chocolate?”

  “Oh, yes. Thanks, Father,” Lucius called over his shoulder as he skipped toward the men’s room. He waited until he saw his son close the door behind him before he made the call to Marcus. His brother picked up on the first ring.

  “Problem? You should be on your way by now.”

  “I just got an image, a feeling from Cara. She’s looking for a book. Searching her memory, and she’s a little frustrated with it, too. She’s investigating it, brother.”

  “Damn.” Marcus was not pleased. “You got the Jett brothers squared away?”

  “All set. They should be all around the house. Marcus, what if they learn about the book?”

  Paolo could almost feel the wheels turning slowly in his brother’s head. “It’s a risk we’re going to have to take. I need you to get Lucius to safety. I need your help with the Council.”

  “But if she’s beginning to put things together, won’t she perhaps begin to regain her memories?”

  “That I don’t know. There is still only one course for you. You must get you and your son to Italy without any further delay. Let’s have the Jett boys earn their salary. Is there a detail for the day?”

  “Yes. Marcus, they are mortal.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Friends of Lionel. Retired SEALs.”

  Marcus chuckled. “They’ll do. If they believe in the cause, they’re every bit as good as your ordinary black vamp.”

  Paolo reluctantly agreed to continue with his flight plans. He dialed Lionel just in case and was reassured that Cara had stayed home this evening, and was going through paperwork on her desk. No visitors. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing scented or sensed that caused them to worry. Lionel assured Paolo they were vigilant.

  “And you wouldn’t believe what my buds think of me now that they know I can disappear at will. They all want to learn the trick.”

  Paolo was glad for Lionel, who seemed to be able to fit into the human world as well as his own dark family, yet still maintain his loyalty to the Monteleone clan. He was indeed a rare warrior.

  “They with you tonight?”

  “We’re training a few at a time. But yes. I’ve traced them to Murder Burger three times already tonight. They think it’s pretty cool. I know it’s not the hamburgers. It’s the ride they love.”

  This brought a smile to Paolo’s face, just as Lucius was coming from the bathroom.

  Damn. He’d been so engrossed in the phone calls that he’d forgotten to order the hot chocolate.

  They waited in line to order, holding hands. Then Lucius sat on his lap on the couch while they awaited their order. Paolo was glad he’d decided not to tell his brother the SEALs were going to be told about their Golden Vampire lineage.

  He could see that the years of peaceful coexistence with the dark covens and the human world had left their family without their own protective forces made up of Golden vampires wishing to serve and perhaps lay down their lives for their families. That was a tremendous error in judgment. Relying on other species to protect the Golden families had left the dark covens with a distinct advantage. Just by their very nature, the dark covens had never ceased to maintain a fighting stance. And their numbers had been growing exponentially. Paolo intended to inform the Council of this.

  The limo continued to the airport, where they got aboard the plane for Florence without a moment to spare. Paolo encouraged Lucius to sleep, but his son was avidly playing with all the gadgets available in first class seating. No doubt the boy would be halfway disappointed when they landed.

  Paolo listened for another thought from Cara, but felt nothing. He smiled back at the attendant, who seemed determined to give him extra attention, leaning over him to serve his boy, making it hard for him not to get a whiff of the perfumed flesh between her breasts. It only made him long for Cara.

  Paolo thought of Cara and wished that someday he’d get one more day with her. He’d even take a day where she didn’t know him. He’d even agree not to glam her if he had to. Anything to be in proximity to her.

  The attendant’s breast brushed over Paolo’s shoulder in an unmistakable gesture. Her peacock- blue eyes were lovely, he thought. Full pink lips that could no doubt do lovely things. But he sighed, careful not to sigh in her direction or she’d orgasm on the spot in front of the entire first class cabin. Perhaps he’d have to get used to this. But he would never forget Cara, or the wonderful music her body played for him. Her voice, her touch, the feel of her skin, were all something he needed, craved. And, unlike a true addiction, she was good for him. She granted him life and spirit. Strength and purpose.

  For now, the need to protect his son and his family had to come first. He hoped the Jett brothers and their buddies would do their jobs like they had done for centuries. He prayed there would be time for love later.

  Chapter 35

  Dag awoke on his bed, but it was different. For one thing, he was spread-eagled. His wrists and ankles were bound with silver, making movement painful. Made not a bit of difference to his dick, however. It stood to attention like a telephone pole.

  He was going to yell “fuck you” at himself, but decided his dick would take it as encouragement. The body part was so useful in so many ways, and so completely abnormal in others, and only a bit of that was fun for him. He liked control, and his dick always had a mind of its own.

  There was someone else in the room. Suddenly the fact that he was restrained bothered him. “Hey. Who’s there?” he said to the half-closed door to his private bathroom. The seconds ticked by and there was no answer. “I fuckin’ said who is there? Come here right now and untie me.”

  Shirley, the little blonde waif, stood in the doorway to the bathroom, stark staring naked but covered with blood.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Look at your skin, master,” She whispered. “While you were sleeping, I repaired you.”

  Sure enough, Dag looked at his formerly blistered and blackened skin and saw that most of the flakiness was gone. What remained was reddish and blotchy. Rather like blood marble.

  “What did you do? And get me out of these cuffs. They’re hurting me.”

  She smiled sweetly again. Something behind that smile alarmed him. Was the girl some species he’d not encountered before? A tiny shiver of fear coursed down his spine and, right on cue, made his dick lurch. She giggled. It pissed Dag off.

  Shirley came over to the bed. Her wrists had been cut. She’d used her own blood to wash him, heal him. As soon as he got out of the restraints, he’d properly thank her. Or kill her. He’d decide later. Right now he was focusing on the juncture between her legs. He needed to feed, and that spot would work just
fine.

  “You want me?” she said as she outlined her left areola with her right forefinger. She held the finger up; there was blood covering the tip.

  “Yes. Yes I do. Very much.”

  “That’s not a very sexy way to get a girl to fuck you, Dag.”

  “Come here and I’ll show you.”

  “You have enough energy? You sure?”

  “Look at my fuckin’ dick. That should tell you everything you need to know. I’m ready as hell. Come here.”

  “I want you to beg.”

  “What?” Dag pulled at his bindings but the burning from the silver chains made him stop. He considered severing his own wrist, since he’d regenerate in a day anyway, but he didn’t want to experience the pain. But if he had to, he could do that.

  “I said beg me. Be sweet to me.”

  “Please. Get me the fuck outta these restraints or I’ll fuckin’ nail your hide to the wall.”

  “That’s not what I meant at all.” She turned around, bent over and gave him a good look at her sex from behind. And her anus. “If you ever want to see these again, you’re going to have to learn to speak nicely to me. Understood?”

  “Whoa! Wait a minute. Nobody talks to me that way.”

  “I’m the one that talks to you that way. Until you talk nice.” She began dancing, gyrating, smoothing the syrupy blood over her body. “You could lick all this off me, wash me. Then you could fuck me until I pass out. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “Just nice?”

  “Okay, sounds like fun.”

  “Just fun?”

  “What the fuck do you want me to say? Tell me what to say and I’ll do it. Just get me out of these restraints. This is really beginning to piss me off.”

  “Tell me you need me. Like you did yesterday.”

  Did I do that? Holy shit, I did.

  “I liked it when you talked to me like that. It made me come almost the instant I heard it.”

  “Look, Shirley, I have some very important things to do and I’m on a tight schedule. We can have a little fun, but you gotta get me out of these. There are people waiting on me.”

  “No one has come by the house. The phone hasn’t rung. Your phone—where is your phone?”

  Dag realized that in his blackened and painful après sunscorched state he had forgotten to look for his cell phone when he peeled off his clothes. “I think it’s over there, in that pile of rags.”

  “What pile of rags? You mean the rags I took out and had burned?”

  “You fuckin’ did what?”

  “I burned them. In your fireplace downstairs. Let me go see if the cell phone fell out.”

  She turned to go.

  “No! Wait. Look, honey, this is real fun and all, but could you just undo me, please? I promise to be real sweet.”

  “I’ll go check on the phone and then you can be sweet to me.” She left.

  Dag was livid. He’d never felt like he could have a heart attack before, but he was fairly sure he was on the way to having one now. It wasn’t a whole lot of fun being restrained on the bloody sheets with his dick winking at him, taunting him in that unnatural way.

  What the fuck is going on? Had everyone gone completely bonkers?

  He heard screams coming from downstairs. That would be his staff, heading for the hills at the sight of the little twisted, bloody sister scraping through ashes in the fireplace. What a scene that must have been. He regretted missing it.

  Dag searched for another solution. Severing his wrist was beginning to make perfect sense. Except he’d have to bite the damn thing off, and that would take too much time. If he had a knife, easy pezy. But no, that blade had been in his pants pocket, probably in the fireplace too, along with the phone numbers of his entire organization.

  Whatever gave her the idea she had to burn his fuckin’ clothes anyway? Some ritual sacrifice?

  Uh, oh. He’d heard about some tribes who burned the possessions of their enemy before they ate them. Holy shit, maybe she was some freak from another world he knew nothing about. Were her people trying to get control of his coven by destroying him?

  He was beginning to regret ever having met the little panhandler that evening in front of the coffee bar. No question about it. She’d been a plant. And boy, did he fall right for it. He’d underestimated them. Well, he wouldn’t do that again. As soon as he got rid of his wrist, he’d show them how ruthless he could be with their vessel, their messenger of death and doom. No one was going to put that over on him.

  Dag tried to take a bite up by his wrist and realized, to his horror, that he couldn’t reach it and would have to eat through his elbow to obtain freedom. That presented a whole new set of circumstances. Big bones. Big arteries and lots of blood. He wondered if he should bite above or below the elbow joint. The skin above looked more tender, and didn’t the lower extremity have two bones, not one? Or, was it the other way around?

  Fuck! Where is my biology knowledge when I need it? He’d always hated that class. Served him right. He felt like murdering his old teacher just because he hadn’t inspired him to learn better. He’d do it, once he got out of these restraints.

  What the fuck was taking her so long? Dag sighed. Time to start biting.

  The first bite hurt like hell. He’d nailed the soft tissue below his bicep. The skin tore off in ribbons and he spit it out.

  This is disgusting.

  He was about to take another bite when he heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and the clanging of keys and metallic things.

  My boys. Thank the devil himself!

  Rhys and another of his men stood by the opened door and stared at the scene before them, appearing to be in shock.

  “Don’t you fuckin’ stand there holding your dicks. Get me out of these things.”

  “Sorry, boss.” Kevin, the one who was Sidney’s nephew, hurried to one side of the bed and took out a pair of wire cutters from the toolkit he always wore on his belt. Dag had made fun of him, calling him “the gardener” all the time. Now he was grateful the dark vamp was so handy with his tools.

  The silver stung poor Kevin, who whimpered at the blister for a long moment before completing the task on the other side.

  “Would you hurry the fuck up?”

  “Yessir.”

  While Kevin was undoing his ankle Dag asked about the girl.

  “What girl?” the man asked.

  “The one that did this to me. The little vamp slut I turned.”

  “There was no girl downstairs. Your housemaid called us, but she was hysterical. You don’t think she did it, do you?”

  “Of course not. But maybe she knows where the little twat went.”

  “They’re all gone, sir.”

  Free at last, Dag leapt to his feet and ran for the bathroom to take a shower. Except he misjudged the smooth marble floor, slipped on the blood coated all over him and the floor and fell on his butt. He didn’t even yell at the two guards who were having difficulty keeping in their laughter. He would have lots of time to get even, after he found the girl and made her pay for her crime.

  But that would come after he got his hands on Paolo’s girl, extracted the book information from her, and left her for dead. He had to kill something that meant something to someone else. That was the only way to soothe the pain inside him. He needed to even the score. It didn’t matter who paid the price, but it made it more likely he’d be satisfied if it was someone who mattered to Paolo Monteleone.

  Lionel Jett sat in a nest of yellow and white hamburger wrappers. Andrew, the SEAL he’d been training, had fallen asleep, probably due to the large globules of fat coursing through his veins from all the fast food he’d consumed this evening. Boy, those guys could pack it away, he thought. Almost funny.

  He decided to let his buddy sleep, knowing that if he needed the man he’d be ready instantly, as ready as any creature on the planet could be. Since Lionel was always awake during the night, it was no problem for him. B
ut he was bored.

  He’d watched Paolo’s woman sorting through all her stuff like they were sheets of delicate old books she was trying to preserve. Why was it women liked all this paperwork shit, he wondered? They liked to take care of little details that just didn’t matter in Lionel’s world. He dealt with the big things: life, death. That was about it. Honor was in there somewhere. Love was supposed to be there, too, but it was all lust right now, no chance for love.

  Young Maria Monteleone had been like this lady, he thought. She liked to work on her needlepoint, sit quietly by the fireplace and listen. She’d hear things. Like the night she commented on his heartbeat. It happened every time he looked at her. He was grateful his member didn’t make a sound or she would have picked up on that, too. Or, maybe she stole little glances at his groin when he wasn’t looking.

  She didn’t belong to him, but it didn’t stop him from having the kind of dreams any healthy dark vamp would have. Maria was sophisticated and kind. She didn’t have to try to be nice, she was nice all the way through her core. But though his feelings for her ran deep, the fact that they were two distinct species meant that a mating could never occur without the punishment by death. The Council had made examples of other dark vamps who had been entrusted with the safekeeping of the Monteleone family, especially the women and children. Those who strayed and found themselves in an illicit affair with a Golden—and it happened only rarely—were swiftly tried and their lives ended. So sad that love should cause the death of a person. Lionel had always thought this should not be.

  But the Council was everything. It controlled everything the Goldens did. It was the gatekeeper of their history, their rituals, the stories passed down from generation to generation. Unlike the dark covens, who were like wild rogue armies that came and went, leaving wreckage in their wake, Goldens enhanced the communities they lived in. And they cared for everyone who was loyal to them. They never sought out recognition, working silently for the good of the community of man as a whole, both vampire and mortal.

  Lionel saw she was getting tired. She’d had coffee, and that kept her awake for a couple of hours, but now, past midnight, she was fading. Her sheer, dogged determination kept her poring over the paperwork. She took notes. She leaned back against the tall wooden chair and he could see the beautiful chest of Paolo’s woman. Her graceful neck. Her blood would taste sweet, he thought.