Hearts Unleashed: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by C. D. Gorri

  “And what are you doing waiting around under windows for young ladies to fall out of?” Mila retorted, squirming against his firm grip.

  “Well, it is not something I make a practice of,” he conceded. “But, for you, my Snow Maiden, I’d wait under any number of windows.”

  “Perhaps you should put me down instead.”

  “I am not inclined to do so.”

  “I insist.”

  “You are not wearing any shoes, and I would not want your pretty little feet to get dirty.”

  “It’s hardly your place to worry about my feet!”

  “Given that your place is currently in my arms,” he drawled, grinning. “I would say that possession is nine-tenths of the law, and as such, your delicate little toes are very much my concern.”

  Gavin’s face was altogether too close to hers now, and Mila was fighting off a rising panic. If she could see the stubble on his jaw and the texture of his lips, then he’d surely see how chalk-white her cheeks were and the dark circles of the Thirst in the hollows under her eyes. He gazed at her, his expression growing dark and heated, but, she knew if he broke free from the haze of his lust for even a moment, he would recognize her for what she was.

  Unable to use her vampiric strength due to the sunlight and the danger of giving herself away, all she could do was turn her head and bury her face against his chest. Unfortunately, this gave her ample opportunity to breathe in his distinctive scent once more. The combination of leather, cloves, and smoke called forth entirely new sensations in her body, awakening places she had never felt before.

  “What is it, my sweet Snow Maiden?” His lips moved against the shell of her ear as he spoke, his voice a low rumble in his chest that seemed to vibrate within her too. “Why were you up there? Are you in danger and trying to escape?”

  Mila shook her head against his chest, unable to speak as she struggled to comprehend the strange shivers and thrills that ran through her at the touch of his lips, his smell, the strength of his arms as he held her.

  “I can help you,” he persisted. “I can bring you somewhere safe and protect you.”

  She couldn’t help the small half-laugh, half-sob that escaped her at the terrific irony of his words. “No, I face no peril. I need no rescue. You had best put me down and be on your way.”

  He released her only to hold her firmly about the waist with one arm and rest her bare feet on the tops of his boots. She bowed her head, afraid to look at him.

  “You are determined to be difficult, I see,” he said with a soft chuckle. “You do realize that you now owe me a life debt?”

  “That is not possible!” It took all of Mila’s discipline not to look up at him and explain exactly why a mere fall from a window could not kill her. Not to mention the small fact that she was not alive and therefore had no life to offer as collateral for any debt.

  “I shan’t collect now. Don’t worry. But know that I will not hesitate to call in your vowels if I believe you to be in danger.” His voice held no trace of lightheartedness now, despite his words.

  A pair of shutters clattered open above them. Mila quickly pretended to jump at the sound and pull against Gavin’s arms as he instinctively tightened them around her.

  “There you are!” Dorian called down. She had no choice but to look up at him, grimacing as she saw him in the window, though standing safely in the slight shadow of the frame. “You were not in bed, and I grew worried.”

  Gavin grew stiff and dug his hands hard enough into her shoulder and waist that on any mortal, he would leave bruises.

  “You needn’t have bothered,” Mila replied coldly. “Go back inside. I shall be along presently.”

  “Quickly, then,” Dorian snapped and withdrew, pulling the shutters closed with a bang.

  She bowed her head once more, hoping against hope that Gavin had not studied her too closely when her face had been turned up to the bright sunlight. He remained tense, his hold on her unforgiving.

  “I see that I have discovered the source of your reluctance to furthering our acquaintance,” he said dryly.

  “What? No!” Mila exclaimed before she could help herself. “He is my cousin. I would no more…with him…than I would…with a goat with botts and staggers!”

  “That is quite the alternative.”

  “For your information, he feels the same for me.” She jerked against his grasp. “He goes around mooning about some young lady who does nothing more than tease him.”

  She risked a peek up at Gavin to see if he accepted her half-truths. While his jaw was still set grimly, there was a softness in his eyes, and his lips twitched up at the corners.

  “Does this young lady have a habit of falling out of windows?” he asked, his manner relaxed, but clearly hoping to receive further reprieve from or confirmation of his suspicions.

  “No,” Mila replied stubbornly. “But if she persists in tormenting him, she may find herself thrown out of one in short order.”

  Gavin gave a shout of laughter, and his hands went from gripping her punishingly to tenderly stroking her back and shoulder. She saw her chance to get away and pulled back, only to lose her footing and fall backwards again when he shifted his weight, causing her feet to slip from the tops of his boots. He caught her once more, and this time, she was pressed against his warm, strong body. She couldn’t help but breathe him in again, relishing the heady feeling as if he were a drug and this moment but a dream.

  “You must let me go now,” she murmured.

  “Not without a promise to see you again,” he said, running his nose along the cool skin of her jaw.

  “Are you calling in my debt?” For a creature that didn’t need to breathe, she felt oddly breathless when he nipped her earlobe.

  “Not at all.” His laugh was sinful against her temple. “Consider it merely compensation for having put my back out in catching you.”

  “Then perhaps you should not be gallivanting about in your weakened state.”

  “You know my conditions for your release, sweet Snow Maiden.”

  Her thoughts flew through options, opportunities, and pitfalls until she seized on the one advantage she could claim from this situation. “I will agree to meet you, but the time and place must be of my choosing.”

  “Tonight. The time shall be tonight, but the place shall be yours.”

  She ground her teeth. Stupid, irritating mortal! “I promise nothing. Where shall I send word to you if I am able?”

  “Campo Marini near the Arsenale.” He set her on her feet and kissed her hand in a courtly fashion. “There, now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “It was damn near impossible,” Mila retorted. “Exactly like you.”

  Gavin laughed and with a low and mocking bow, sauntered off.

  She watched him until he disappeared into the crowd, then fled back into the palazzo. Dorian was back! She had to find him and speak with him. Hiking up her skirts, she skittered up the stairs and down a corridor. As she was about to reach the room with the window Dorian had called her from, Lady Abberley and Madame Bellefontaine appeared out of nowhere and grabbed hold of each of her arms.

  “What are you doing?” Mila demanded. “Unhand me!”

  “We would not have willingly laid a hand on you if Signor Fanti had not asked us to bring you to him,” Lady Abberley sniffed. Madame Bellefontaine tittered behind her fan.

  Fanti wanted her? There were too many scenarios she dreaded to pick one reason in particular that he might demand her presence. Her trepidation grew as the women brought her to the door of his private study. He bade her enter, whereupon she was released by the women and thrust into the room, the women slamming the door behind her.

  She saw Fanti, uncloaked with scars and fangs fully visible, sitting amicably next to a mortal man who was sipping from a glass of port and looked for all the world like he had no qualms about being in a room with two vampires.

  “My dove,” Fanti said, rising and holding out his hand to her. “I am so glad y
ou are here. You are the very one, nay, the only one who can help us with certain…inconveniences we are experiencing.”

  What little blood she had left in her froze as she remembered Fanti’s threat about Dorian’s behavior. For the first time and for as much as she loved him, Mila damned Dorian and his cruel, selfish obsession that had left her ripe for tricking and trapping.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Approaching the docks, Sophia pulled her thick wool cloak further around her body as the chill of the October winds sent a shiver down to her bone. The clouds cumulated and the air felt drizzly. She adjusted the cloak and pulled it over her head. Her hair felt damp and she wiped at her eyes. Focusing her gaze out to the ships, she searched for the man who sailed in the ship Dorian might have been on. If she found him, she might be able to ask him a few questions―if, of course, he would answer.

  Until she found him though, she would ask anyone who at least spoke to her. She approached a tall, lanky man with a bald head, and a nasty scratch across the top of it. As she stepped toward him, a stench emitted from him and she held her breath to keep from gagging. My God, he could stand a good bathing!

  “Excuse me?”

  The man set down a box he had in his hands and turned to face Sophia. His eyes went to her breasts, her waist, hips, feet, back to her breasts once more. “Aye, what could a woman like ye need from a man except a good romp?” He chuckled and when he smiled, black covered his teeth.

  She swallowed and took another step back. “No, I am not a whore, so I advise you to keep ill thoughts to yourself. I’m looking for the captain of this ship.” She pointed to the boat behind the man.

  He turned around to gaze upon the mast, then back to her. He shrugged. “He’s ‘around most days. Should be back shortly. Keep ye company till his return?”

  She shook her head and offered a smile. “Much obliged but no, thank you.” She back stepped and turned toward the next man. She asked him the same question, and received a similar answer. He was nowhere around.

  She decided she needed to change her tactics. Clearing her throat, she approached a man with a cap pulled over his head. He had on a ragged leather cloak and stood almost as wide as he was tall. What are they feeding these men?

  “Pardon me,” she started and the man turned to face her. He had a cut over one of his eyes and it appeared as he perhaps lost it in a fight. “This ship sailed in recently, did it not?”

  He nodded with a grunt. “Aye. What of it?”

  She smiled and dared to step closer to the man. “Where would the captain be?”

  “What is yer business with him? Hmm?” He raised his good brow and leaned in. “Last time we saw him he headed toward Baroli's.” He tilted his head slightly. “Say, isn’t that where you work?” His brows furrowed together. This man, this Signor Bulge, looked to her with suspicion.

  “Yes,” she began and took a step back from him. “I do, but, I saw him there, and he was in talks with one of the clerks.” She thought back to the conversation, the way the clerk eyed her medallion. She shuddered in her step.

  “Aye,” the man said and took a step toward her as she continued to walk backwards. “You were the last to see the captain. Maybe we should be asking you the questions? Hmm?”

  She gasped and took a few steps farther away and tripped. She caught herself on one of the shore poles and Signor Bulge chuckled.

  “Nothing but a chicken feather, you are. Now get out of here, woman, before someone mistakes you for a whore.”

  She gritted her teeth and stood taller, held her chin in the air, preparing a retort Suddenly, screams filled the air. Sophia could not see who had screamed, at least not yet. She ran toward the noise, the next bridge over, and found the prostitutes who worked the shores wailing.

  “They’re dead,” screamed one.

  “Oh my God, someone killed them,” yelled another.

  “How many are there?” asked a bystander.

  “I don’t know,” the first one sniffed and fell to her knees. “Five? Maybe six?”

  Sophia gasped and walked toward the home the prostitutes kept. She placed a hand upon the woman’s shoulder and bent down. “Did you see who did this?”

  The woman met her gaze and shook her head. “We found them this way.”

  Sophia nodded and patted the woman’s back. “It will be alright,” she whispered to her.

  “How do you know?” the woman asked. “First bodies floating, and now more in our home. Who would do this?”

  Sophia stood and shook her head. “I do not know, but we’ll find out.” She turned from the woman and as she thought to seek out Gavin, everyone talking suddenly became quiet. She turned back, curious to what brought on the silence.

  A man dressed in black stepped out of the home with a black hat and shoes. She could not see his face, and assumed he might be a doctor or physician. The man looked up and gazed at the faces in the crowd, then looked to the ground once more.

  “The bodies have been drained in the same fashion as the ones pulled from the bank. No evidence of a fight. No weapon marks. Merely small incisions in the neck and the bodies drained of blood.”

  Sophia shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. Please, please do not let this be Dorian. He could not possibly be a vampire.

  But it only makes sense, she told herself.

  No. I must find Gavin.

  She quickly made her way toward the headquarters of the Order of St. Marcellus to tell him, and the others, of the bodies. She thought of her work and knew she would be late, but in this moment, she did not care. As she crossed Campo San Benedetto, she turned a corner into an alleyway and heard familiar voices. She paused as she approached a turn, then leaned around to spy on who she heard.

  Signora Long Nose and Signora Bad Wig spoke in loud, alarmed voices to Father Potbelly. He had his hands in the air as if attempting to hush the yelling.

  “Signora’s, please!” he insisted, “lower your voices! You will strike alarm!”

  “More bodies were found near Signor Massimo’s mask shop!” cried Signora Long Nose.

  Sophia gasped and pulled out of range. She leaned against the wall and thought of the night Dorian had her in a mask shop. Dread pulled at her heart and her eyes stung with tears. He was either a vampire and a danger to them all, or he had been hunted by the vampire with red eyes.

  A sudden memory of a conversation with Gavin came to mind. “Vampires have eyes as red as blood when they feed.” That had to be it. He had to be the prey, not the predator.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, then continued to listen. “They were drained, like the ones in the water,” Signora Bad Wig spoke up. “What is happening to our city, Father?”

  Silence enveloped them and Sophia wondered if she had been caught spying. She held her breath and waited. Signora Long Nose spoke up next.

  “It is the devil’s work. It is. You saw it, first hand, the other morning in service when they carried the devil’s whore outside! She and these…beasts, bring about a plague.”

  Sophia gasped again and the dread quickly shifted to rage.

  Father Potbelly cleared his throat. “I believe this is no ordinary plague, but a curse of the devil and those who choose to follow him. Watch for the signs, be forewarned…”

  Sophia tuned out the man and fumed. She squeezed her hands into fists and released. She wanted nothing more than to walk up, punch each of them in the nose, and point fingers. They were the reason stories of the devil’s work existed.

  Enough of this, she thought to herself. She stepped out from behind the wall and made herself visible. She lifted her chin and walked toward the trio. Father Potbelly stopped talking immediately and his eyes widened, as did his mouth. Signora’s Long Nose and Bad Wig turned and both women gasped.

  Sophia held their stare for a long moment, but kept her thoughts to herself. She lifted a brow while she gritted her teeth. One foot in front of the other, she forced herself to continue walking, when all she wanted to do was
put them down, out of their misery.

  Then I would be no better than the devils they hold for all that has happened.

  Would that be so awful? she asked herself. With a slight grin toward them, giving them a dose of their own fear, she made it to the next alley and disappeared behind the wall. As soon as she could no longer see the trio, she broke into a sprint. She now knew Dorian might not be the only one hunted.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Frustration grabbed Sophia and she growled as she slammed the door to her home, then pressed her palms against the stone wall. Sweat beaded down her back and she thought of her landlady. She didn’t have the strength to deal with the likes of her at this moment. She pushed off the wall and pushed loose strands of hair behind her ears.

  She hadn’t been able to find Gavin, even though she managed to hit the local areas he frequented most. His best mates had not seen him, either. Where could he be? It is not like him to disappear.

  Footsore, weary, and worried, she had a right mind to collapse on her bed, if for no more than a few minutes, then trudge over to Baroli’s for her shift. He’d be pissed and possibly threaten to fire her, and maybe he would, but she doubted it. He wanted to keep an eye on her, which, if she were honest with herself, was a shitty reason to keep anyone employed. She accepted it regardless. This was life sometimes.

  She turned toward her bed and screamed. Dorian reclined upon it, lounging without a simple care in the world. Well, at least that was how he appeared to her. Dressed in his long cloak, black pants and boots, white shirt with buttons opened below his neck. Sophia found a few chest hairs as they peeked over the collar. His arms were pulled behind his head and his top hat sat upon her desk.

  She felt slightly embarrassed of the mess she had left behind in her room over the last few days, not expecting company. Bits of paper, wax candle drippings, needle and thread not put away, all scattered about…then she stopped and looked at him again. Reality finally claimed her and she stared directly into his eyes.

  “How?” was all she managed to get out. Dorian smirked, and she found he looked strangely tired. Not quite the energetic man she saw the night before. Then again, one night was all she had to go on. As she stared at him, she wanted to find something ruthless, wicked, anything, but she only found adoration in his eyes.