Accidentally Married To...A Vampire? (22 page)

Like the lethal assassin that he was, his mind quickly went to work assessing the scene. He efficiently identified all of the exits, how many people were in the room, and which individuals were possibly concealing a weapon. Which was, yep, just about every guy in the joint.

Great choice, Helena.
Well, at least they all smelled mortal. Then again, the sun was just about to go down, and this looked like the exact kind of place an Obscuro would go for their next meal.

Andrus’ eyes zeroed in on the opposite end of the room where the men were gathered around someone, cheering wildly, raising their glasses.

Helena. They must have her.
These foul males would pay for touching her. First, he had to get her to safety, then he’d return to exact justice.

Andrus frantically pushed past several large, leather clad men who protested as they fell to the side but immediately backed down once they caught a glimpse of him.

“Hi there! What’s your name?” said a large man in a leather jacket. The other man to his side gasped and smiled. “Oh, my. Look what my fairy godmother dragged in. Yum.”

Andrus frowned. These men were…extremely friendly for such rough-looking types. He ignored them and kept moving. Just as he reached the last barricade of bodies, he spotted a large, redheaded man facing the crowd holding up a one hundred dollar bill.

Then he saw Helena.

His vision dotted with red. A young, shirtless man and wearing only jeans and chaps held Helena in his arms and was leaning in to kiss her.

Bastard!

Andrus would take his head first.

He pushed the man away. “Get the hell off her!” If the sleaze bucket had a shirt, Andrus would be holding him up by it. But he didn’t, so Andrus would opt for ripping off his arms instead.

Helena stumbled back. “Andrus! Hey, honey!” She flung her arms around his neck. “Nice to see you, but you’ll need to wait your turn.”

Andrus surveyed the rowdy crowd surrounding them. They were laughing and smiling.
And winking?

“You’re not…in distress?” Andrus asked.

The redheaded man looked at Helena. “This must be the asshole who broke your heart.”

Helena wobbled and poked Andrus in the chest. “This guy? Nooo, but he’s a lying pig just the same.”

Was she drunk?

Andrus took a whiff
. Holy cocktail! The woman smells like she’s about to vaporize. And why does this place smell like Polo cologne mixed with gasoline?

“What the hell is going on, Helena?”

She stepped forward and jabbed him in the chest again. “I’m just having a little fun! But if you wanna to play, you’ll have to pay, Bub! One hundred buckaroos, like Ricky boy here.” She flicked her thumb toward the shirtless guy she’d been just about to kiss.

Helena stumbled to the side. Andrus caught her arm and frowned. She was wasted.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Helena laughed. “Jealous?”

Was he? He certainly wasn’t happy to see her about to kiss a stranger. He grabbed her, pulled her to the bar, and then sent the onlookers a warning with his eyes and mind. They obediently returned to their conversations.

He stared deeply into her blue eyes. “Maybe.”

“And what can good old Fernando get you this evening?” the bartender asked with an eager smile.

Andrus noticed that Fernando had on the same leather pants and black tee outfit.

Nice look
. Andrus swiped the small Plexiglas freestanding menu from the counter and then asked for a Guinness and chicken fingers. “You need to eat something,” he said to Helena.

“Are you over her?” Helena asked. “Really, reeeeally over her?”

Andrus knew immediately to which “her” she was referring. The answer wasn’t so simple. How could he be over the woman who’d not only broken his heart, but his spirit too? She changed him into a monster, and he had to look at himself every day, a constant reminder of her betrayal.

“No. I will not be over her until justice is served,” he said coldly.

Fernando returned with a thick frosty mug of dark brown beer, smiling. “On the house.”

What friendly service.
Andrus nodded and threw down a twenty anyway. Fernando winked at him.

Yes, very friendly.

“So you still love her, don’t you?” Helena asked.

No. He hated that demon with every fiber of his being. He wanted to take her head and put it in his trophy case, though that wouldn’t be possible—vampire bitch couldn’t even do that much for him since her head would turn to ash.

“I’m half vampire; I love nothing and no one. I want her dead, so I can forget her. And what about you, Bride of the Executioner?” he asked.

Helena winced. “Oooh, God.” She punched Andrus in the arm. “Don’t say that! Sounds like a horror movie.”

Andrus smirked.

“Why do you call him that, anyway?” she asked.

Should he tell her? It might make it easier for her to move on when Niccolo died, given every vampire with the queen’s blood would perish along with her. Yes. Knowing she was bound to a killer could prove helpful.

“He's the queen’s right hand, Helena, the general of her deadly, immortal army. A ruthless, bloodthirsty assassin.”

Andrus watched her face fill with sorrow. His gut churned with guilt.

She gave an empty nod. “He never told me what he did all night long or where he went. I figured he had some kind of dangerous job. But her general…? Her right hand…? She’s so evil.”

“I’m sorry.”

Helena raised her hand. “Fernando, can I get another?”

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Andrus objected.

“I just want to forget him, Andrus. He kept the truth from me, except when he said he could never love me.” She laughed. “How ironic! I’m not even good enough for the Executioner!”

He reached out and pushed her hair behind her ear. “Helena, he can’t love you because he’s a vampire. You, you’re perfect.”

“Andrus! Are you flirting with me?” she asked, amused.

Andrus looked down at his feet, shocked to realize that, in fact, he was. He thought that Reyna had destroyed that part of him—the part that felt affection. Go figure it would be the Executioner’s wife who’d bring him back. But there was no denying it. Helena had an easiness about her. Since she’d entered his life, he could breathe again—just a little.

“Yes, you are perfect. Except for your secret fetish: getting stinking drunk and trying to kiss strange men in seedy bars.”

She laughed and socked Andrus in the arm. “Nuh-uh! That red haired guy bet he could teach me to kiss so well that even a gay man would pay for a lesson. I was about to make my first hundred.”

What!? She was kissing men for money? He growled and then froze. Wait. They were in a gay bar? Andrus’ eyes swept the room and realized the truth. Ironically, he fit right in with his leather pants. That might explain why women steered clear of him. Or perhaps, it was because he was a dark son of bitch who always had a cloud of shadows lurking near him.

In any case, he’d have to rethink his wardrobe choices.
Aw, fuck it. I like my leather pants.

He looked down at Helena with amazement. How come she didn’t mind his dark side? In fact, despite his snapping and barking, she still wanted to help him. She was strong, smart, and honorable in addition to being beautiful.

Lucky damned vampire.
She was an extraordinary woman who could have any man she wanted. How could she, of all people, think she wasn’t good enough for that lowly Executioner? He suddenly realized how badly he wanted to kiss her, for her to want him instead of that vile bloodsucker.

He looked into her eyes. He was going to tell her exactly what was on his mind, “Helena,

I—”

Helena turned and did a little jump. “Oooh. I love this song!” She looked at Andrus. “Hold that thought, Andrus baby! Helena’s gotta go get her Pet Shop Boys on.”

Helena scuttled across the crowded room and pushed her way into a line of fifteen men, locked arm and arm, singing at the top of their lungs and swaying in unison. “Wooo! That’s right, baby!” Helena howled at the top of her lungs. The men on both sides hooted and jeered in response. “You are always on my miiind! You are always on my miiind!”

She sounds like a bloody, drowning cat.
Andrus winced as her off-key voice carried through the bar.
And that song. Bloody fucking awful, but dammit, she makes me laugh.

The song ended and Helena staggered over to Andrus, giggling. “No encores. Please. I know how much you want one, but the diva Helena needs more tequila.”

He reached in his pocket, pulled out a silver money clip loaded with bills, and slipped out a hundred.

Helena’s eyes lit up. “Ooo. You buyin’ me another?”

“I think you’ve had quite enough, but how much did you say it was for a lesson?”

Helena’s eyes went wider, but before she could say a word, his mouth was over hers.

Her lips softened immediately, and she opened her mouth to him. He instantly felt himself grow hard as her sweet tequila-tainted taste filled his mind, and her warm body leaned into him. Gods, she was irresistible.

Damn…this woman can kiss.

He felt a euphoric rush. He could feel again! He instantly knew this wouldn’t be enough. He wanted her. All of her.

His passion took over. He snaked one hand behind her back, the other to cup her head. He dipped her to deepen the kiss. It was nothing like the lust he’d had for Reyna. Helena’s spirit elevated him; she chased away the dark clouds and replaced them with warm, radiant light.

A tiny moan escaped her throat and reverberated in his ears. God, she was amazing. He broke the kiss for a moment. “Definitely worth a hundred.”

She smiled and reached her arm around his neck, “I think you’ve still got a balance left on your tab.”

She reached her lips to his and pulled him back into the kiss.

***

Legs dangling over the edge of the full size bed, Niccolo stretched, slowly coming out of his deep sleep as the sun set. Heaviness filled his chest.

They’d had to stop at a hotel early in the morning to rest instead of tracking Helena like he’d wanted. But he couldn’t risk his men’s safety since driving in daylight was too risky; anyone of them could fall asleep behind the wheel, and there were four vehicles in their caravan.

He slid the tablet from the nightstand and turned it on. He anxiously waited while the screen refreshed. He hoped Helena’s signal was still there or, even better, close by. When he finally caught up to her, he’d do something he personally objected to; he would glamour her into coming with him quietly.

Glamouring a human was only considered socially acceptable under very specific circumstances—like covering up an accident or wiping the mind of a human who’d discovered their existence. But only a low class vampire, unable to depend on his or her charm or wit, stooped to glamouring a love interest. It was considered unsportsmanlike. When it came to mates, it was considered a reproachable act of deception that brought the highest dishonor to a vampire.

He’d simply have to make an exception. After all, it was not as if he could keep her glamoured forever. Eventually, he’d have to find a legitimate way to convince her to stay. He’d start by explaining why being in the company of a Demilord was dangerous even on a good day. Unlike vampires, Demilords held the reputation of having no honor. They only cared about killing whoever was on their hit list. Innocent bystanders were of no concern. Then there was the fact that every vampire on the planet hated them for being such arrogant bastards. It said a lot to be thought of as arrogant by his people—the official sponsors of arrogance.

The page loaded and the blinking dot suddenly appeared on the screen.

Thank the gods. She was only a few hours ahead. She'd stopped to rest! He drilled down on the map and a huge smile swept across his face.

“The Bar!” He’d been there before. He could sift to her!

His smile dropped off a cliff.
Vergine Sacra!
What the hell was Helena doing in that dive? He’d just been there last month trying to track down an exceptionally violent group of Obscuros. He’d only managed to catch and kill five of the thirteen. His cold heart turned to ice, then to fire. If that bastard Demilord had anything to do with her being there, he’d not only kill the son of a bitch, but he’d pluck out his eyes and break every bone in his body first.

Niccolo picked up his cell. “Viktor. Get up. It’s time for me to kill a sacred cow.”

“You want to kill a cow?” Viktor said with a groggy voice, half asleep.

Niccolo growled. “I’m going to kill Andrus tonight after I get Helena somewhere safe. I’m sifting ahead. I’ll see you there.”

“Yes, sir,” Viktor responded. “I’ll try and catch a few non-Forbiddens on the way. I have a feeling you’re going to need blood by the time I get there.”