“I do have one more concern I’d like to address with the board.” The words burned at the back of Andreas’s throat. “I want to make it clear that Mr. Olshanskey’s actions were his and his alone.
No one else is responsible for this incident, whether direct or by association.”
“Interesting you would bring that up.” The voice hummed the words with distinct curiosity. “You seem to be implying that this committee is looking to pass down judgment to someone in addition to Mr. Olshanskey?” By the response, Andreas sensed that the board was already mulling around the idea of what to do about Natasha.
They, too, were worried about her sphere of influence.
Andreas had to put in a good word for Natasha. It was now or never. “No, sirs. I would like to make it clear that my head of security, Natasha Blagovich, with whom you are all well-acquainted, had nothing to do with the matter. I wouldn’t want her ties to the Russian community to be used against her in this court proceeding.” So much for appearing impartial. “She has served our coven well for nearly a century with both bravery and fidelity. I want to be certain that her good name is not soiled because of her close involvement with the case.”
“But Mr. Kristopolous, she is the one person who failed to act swiftly in the first place. Her refusal to seek justice for Mr.
Olshanskey’s victim is the very reason we are here today. Her Russian compatriot clearly has anger issues directed towards humans and your head of security was well aware of it. If she had done her job, we would not be wasting our time with this trial.” He took a deep breath to still his reaction. “You realize that Ms. Blagovich could not have known what he was capable of. You must lay the blame for this on Mr. Olshanskey.” Andreas chose his words carefully. He formed each utterance with cold, calculating precision like a lawyer cross-examining a witness. “With all due respect, please don’t make this into a witch hunt just to save face.”
“I think we’ve heard enough of your testimony. Thank you for your time, Mr. Kristopolous. We will take your words into account before we make our decision. You should hear back from us soon in regards to Mr. Olshanskey’s fate.” With that said, Andreas placed the blindfold back over his eyes. He’d been dismissed. Both literally and figuratively.
Moments later, he was escorted out the door and back into the waiting limousine. He wasn’t sure if his support of Natasha in front of the board of trustees had helped or hindered the situation. But for now, all he wanted to do was forget about his obligations to his father, to Natasha, and especially to his coven.
Chapter Eleven
The Betrayal
“Sorry to interrupt your patrols. You know I wouldn’t pull you out of the field if it weren’t important.” Oliver reassured Eva as she sipped on her latte at their usual hang out. The eclectic Rue Orleans Coffee House in the heart of Lower Manhattan. With voodoo dolls suspended from the ceiling and love potions for sale, this wasn’t your typical New York City hot spot. But then again, Eva wasn’t your typical girl next door either.
“No worries, boss man. I was starting to get a little loopy anyways. I need another cup of joe to make it through the rest of the night. What’s up?”
Oliver looked guilty, like he’d just lost his rent money in a game of cards. Whatever he was about to tell her, wasn’t gonna be pretty. “Our sources inside the coven contacted me about an hour ago.
The board of trustees convened this evening to hear testimony and pass judgment on Ivan Olshanskey. You know what this means, right?”
“I do.” Eva rubbed the kinks out of her tense shoulders. She knew exactly what he referred to. It was time to leak information about Olshanskey to the press. In turn, she’d have to implicate Andreas, and make him susceptible to interrogation by the police, the INS, and God knows who else. Eva expected this. But when it came right down to it, she didn’t anticipate feeling like such a cowardly traitor.
Oliver grabbed her hand. A friendly gesture of comfort intended to settle her skittish nerves. This part of the job was far from easy. “Are you sure you can handle this, Eva?” Clearly, Oliver had taken advantage of her vulnerable state of mind. The son of a bitch used his gift to read her thoughts.
Naturally, Oliver picked up on their mutual attraction and incredible sexual chemistry. But did he know the extent of her feelings? Could he see that she started to fall for Andreas Kristopolous? Had he seen the past the façade Andreas created for the world? The wealthy playboy. The self-centered socialite. The bloodthirsty vampire. The beautiful monster. Over the last few weeks, Eva began to see the real Andreas. He was a loving son. A philanthropist. A scholar who studied literature and the arts. A fierce, yet gentle lover. Eva didn’t quite know when kicking his ass turned into kissing him senseless. Somewhere along the way, her feelings for Andreas changed. Big time.
Regardless of how she felt about him, she had a job to do. She tried hard to remember that. Eva had to follow through with this, if nothing else, for her parents’ sake. Their sacrifice demanded vengeance and what a better way to obtain it than through the blood of the leader of the New York City vampire coven? She didn’t have a choice in the matter.
“Yes,” Eva replied with renewed bravado. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done.” Determined to do the right thing, she pulled out her Blackberry and emailed the document she’d prepared beforehand to the editors of both the New York Times and the New York Daily News.
Eva placed the phone back into her jacket pocket and turned to Oliver for validation. But approval wasn’t what she needed. She needed her best friend. Eva doubted Oliver was up for the task. Good thing one of them had their head screwed on straight.
“Good girl. I knew you’d do the right thing.” Oliver consoled her with a half-smile. “And I’m sorry it had to be like this. Believe me, if there was any other way, I would never have asked you to get so close to the enemy. I can see that turning your emotions on and off so erratically, is taking its toll on you.” Eva shook her head in denial. “No need to explain Oliver. It’s just part of the job. But thanks for your support,” she said with gratitude. “I should really get back out there slaying vampires.” She stood and gave him a brief hug, trying desperately to fight the tears welling up in her eyes. Eva couldn’t say a word. If she did, she’d turn into a blubbering idiot. She hurried to pull away and headed toward the door before Oliver caught her crying. Then the cell phone in her pocket vibrated. She took it out and looked at the phone number on the screen. Andreas. Eva bit her bottom lip to stop herself from answering the phone. Pressing the “Ignore” button on the phone was her only option. With her emotions all over the place, talking to Andreas amounted to personal and professional suicide.
****
At nearly four o’clock in the morning, the limo finally pulled up to the sidewalk outside of Andreas’s Manhattan penthouse. As usual, he couldn’t force himself to go back to Miravale and face his father while he still reeled from the court proceeding. He was both angry and frustrated at how the evening had unfolded. Andreas could think of only one person who had the power to distract him. Before he could change his mind, he picked up his cell and dialed Eva’s number. It rang several times, before her voicemail answered. Just hearing her voice, made the corded muscles in his back and shoulders instantly more relaxed. Damn, he wanted to lose himself in Eva. Her golden-brown eyes. Her long, silky hair. The feel of her skin against his. And, oh God, her addictive scent. “Hey, it’s Andreas. Call me. I need to see you. Tonight.” His voice burned with anticipation as it echoed through the receiver.
Before he could see Eva, he needed to get upstairs and take a hot shower. The strain of the evening made his head pound and his muscles twist into tight knots. Andreas opened the door and stumbled onto the pavement, as he wearily maneuvered toward the glass doors and up the elevator to the 32nd floor.
The steaming spray of the water felt good. But the longer he stayed in the shower, the worse his headache became. If only aspirin worked on vampires. Unfortunately for him, the only thin
g that ever really helped was sleep. Fresh out of the shower, he dried off and collapsed on top of the black satin sheets on his bed.
I’ll hear the phone if she calls, Andreas promised himself as he drifted off into a deep slumber.
Like most nights, he dreamt of her. This time, he’d walked into his office at The Crypt and there she sat. Her voluptuous body draped provocatively over the velvet settee. In a lacy, red corset and garter belt to match, she looked good enough to eat.
“Hey baby.” Eva greeted him, the sultry tone of her voice made his cock throb and his whole body thrummed to live. The need to take possession of her overpowered everything. “Come over here and sit next to me.” Andreas obeyed without objection. He sat down, lost in Eva’s hypnotic, beautiful gaze. In gentle strokes, he moved his fingertips up and down her thigh with the skill of seasoned lover.
Goose bumps formed on her feathery-soft skin as she leaned close to place a scorching-hot kiss to his lips.
Already hard as steel beneath his linen trousers, he nearly exploded as she grabbed the hand he’d used to memorize the curves of her body. He brought it up to firmly rest against the wetness of her folds.
“Andreas, I ache.” Eva purred the words in near desperation.
“Please. Touch me.” He pushed aside her satiny-red G-string, and instantly felt her juices puddle in the center of his hand. Talented fingers rubbed against her clitoris. Soft at first and then more vigorous until she writhed and moaned in relentless pleasure.
“I need to taste you. Now.” Andreas lowered himself over her body, and pulled her panties down to her ankles before jerking them to the floor. He spread her thighs and positioned himself between them. The first taste of her sweet essence was pure ecstasy. It made him growl like a feral animal. She tasted like a mix of vanilla and jasmine. Sweet and sultry. Andreas licked and sucked along her folds as the scent of gardenias surrounded him. When finally, his tongue delved deep into her core, Eva screamed out loud.
“Oh God, please don’t stop.” Eva begged him, and he was happy to oblige. His tongue slid along her curves with lazy abandon.
In and out of her with sheer perfection. Then, his hand wandered of its own volition to pinch one cherry-red nipple protruding from her corset. The sensation so intense, it caused the muscles inside her womb to spasm against his tongue. Andreas could feel her orgasm spiral out of control, as her essence flooded his mouth to quench a thirst only Eva could satisfy.
He couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed to be inside of her.
If he didn’t fuck her this very instant, he’d most certainly combust. As he tried to unzip his pants, he heard a sound that seemed oddly out of place. Andreas sat up quickly in bed, and suddenly realized that the sound he’d heard was his cell phone ringing. He picked it up without even looking at the caller ID.
“Hello. Eva, is that you?” he asked groggily.
“Andreas, it’s me, Natasha.” Andreas shook his head, shattering the fantasy. “You need to get over here right away.”
“Okay.” Andreas groaned, still half asleep. “Where are you?
What time is it?” His head of security cursed under her breath, clearly frustrated with him. “The sun just went down. It’s a little after five o’clock on Friday evening, and I’m waiting for you in your office, lover boy?” Natasha responded with more than a hint of sarcasm.
Andreas rubbed the kinks out of his stiff neck. He needed to wake up and clear away the cobwebs in his mind. He’d slept nearly twelve hours. Unbelievable.
“All right. Give me fifteen minutes.” Andreas jumped out of bed and snapped his phone shut. A moment later, the phone rang again. It was Natasha. Again. “What?” he yelled into the phone impatiently.
“No need to get testy.” Natasha warned him. “I thought you’d want to know that your father’s here, too. And he’s pissed!” Chapter Twelve
Paying the Piper
It took mere minutes to get to his office inside The Crypt. But the journey seemed to last a lifetime. As he walked in, his father paced impatiently around the interior walls of his private office. The hairs on Andreas’s neck stood on edge.
“Well, well. You’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence.” Aristotle Kristopolous turned his head toward his son and growled out his frustration.
Andreas tried to remain calm, but his patience ran thin. “What is it, Father? I’ve had a long evening what with my testimony in front of the board of trustees last night. Excuse me, if I didn’t arrive right at sunset. But I’d think you’d be a bit more sympathetic, considering I was defending our coven’s honor until nearly four o’clock in the morning.” Andreas shoved his hands in his pockets, and forced himself to tone down the sarcasm as it would only infuriate Aristotle even more.
“I take it you haven’t seen today’s newspaper?” Natasha quirked her brow as if in question. The sympathy reflected in her bright green eyes seemed genuine. Well-aware of how brutal the patriarch could be when it came to protecting the family’s name and reputation, she had to see the coming confrontation.
“No, unfortunately, I haven’t. Natasha’s phone call woke me earlier.” Andreas paused as he rolled his shoulder back in anticipation of the next blow. “What’s happened? Has a verdict been released?
Were the details released to the press?”
“Natasha, would you mind giving us some privacy? This really is a family matter.” Clearly his father wasn’t prepared to trust anyone outside his inner circle.
“Of course, Mr. Kristopolous. Not a problem. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Natasha offered them a slight bow and headed to the door. On the outside, she came off as cool and collected; inside, she no doubt fumed. After he’d dealt her an embarrassing blow the other night at the MET, Andreas didn’t know how much more the woman could take. But Natasha was smart. She wouldn’t risk her career by throwing a hissy fit in front of the most powerful man in her universe.
Aristotle looked at his son and shrugged. “I hope I didn’t offend Natasha. I am simply not ready to divulge anything specific when I do not know if we can fully trust her.” Andreas nodded in agreement as his father handed him the newspaper. “The details of Mr. Olshanskey’s deportation have been released. The board of trustees ordered him back to Moscow, and he is being escorted there as we speak. But that is the least of our worries. Take a look at the front page of the New York Times.”
Andreas picked up the periodical and perused the headlines.
Kristopolous Family Implicated in Cover-Up of Staten Island Woman’s Near Death.
He couldn’t believe what he’d read. How could his family possibly be accused of trying to cover up such a heinous act of violence? If anything, they should be praised in the papers for bringing the terrible incident to light. No wonder his father looked so furious.
“Who would have the audacity to leak something as damaging as this about our organization? Aren’t they afraid of the repercussions we inflict on our enemies?” It’s true that the Kristopolous family had a history of brutality and vengeance when it came to defending themselves against attack. Through the centuries, several groups of nomads and rogue vampires invaded their domain in an attempt to overthrow their regime in search of power and wealth. Each one of them met in battle by Aristotle Kristopolous and his army of well-trained assassins, ready to rip apart their enemies piece-by-bloody-piece.
During the Industrial Revolution, the family realized that in order to increase its influence over the changing landscape of the modern world, they needed to blend into their surroundings. Ripping out their enemies’ throats was not in their best interest any longer.
Appearances became more important than ever, and the Kristopolous name and reputation, reigned supreme.
“That’s what I am here to discover.” Aristotle turned to his son, a ferocious scowl plastered across his withered features.
“Whoever is responsible for this will surely learn a whole new meaning of the word “vengeance”.” The two men sat for more than an
hour and brainstormed a list of possible suspects capable of such treachery. On that list, were the names of several individuals including the local mafia boss, the Russian Ambassador, and unfortunately, Natasha, among others. In addition to identifying the culprit, damage control jumped to the top of their list of priorities.
“I’ll give my contact at the Daily News a call as soon as we’re finished here.” Andreas put a hand on his father’s shoulder in reassurance. “She’ll jump at the chance to discredit a story printed in the Times. A retraction is almost certainly guaranteed by the end of the week.” Aristotle’s face was a mask. His thoughts incomprehensible as he stared back at his progeny with eyes glazed over. Andreas rubbed his sweaty palms against the rough material of his jeans, shredding any evidence of his overwrought anxiety. “What, Father? Tell me what you’re thinking, for Christ’s sake!”
“I know that I am old, but I’m not ignorant. I may not be the leader of this coven any longer, but my God boy, do you think I am blind?” Aristotle’s face contorted into something monstrous. “She broke into my home. Did you think I would not hear about your ministrations with the huntress? I have tried to stay out of your personal life, even when I did not agree with your choice in lovers.
But the fact that you have completely eliminated her and the people she works for from our list of suspects is quite disturbing. Son, you are playing a very dangerous game.”
Andreas suddenly felt like an eight-year-old boy, rather than a 150-year-old vampire. His father had a knack for making him appear inept. But when caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, it was hard to deny the raging sense of guilt eating away at him. He already knew he needed to end his obsession with Eva Sambucco.
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