Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) (13 page)

Either solution worked for Dag. Now that he was close to finding the
book, the need for a coven librarian was soon going to be redundant.

Lionel Jett searched the sparkling lights of the City of Healdsburg from
his loft apartment overlooking the square.
 
A trio of young men laughed sharply, and it drew his
attention to the sidewalk below, where fall tourists had descended upon the
little wine country town to feast at one of the two hundred wineries nearby.
There weren’t many days he wished he was mortal. He didn’t often wish he was
Golden vampire, instead of the dark vamp of his ancestors. But today, he
definitely wished he possessed the powers the Goldens enjoyed.

His weariness was beginning to creep into his everyday consciousness,
almost like a kind of aging process. Of course, he would never age. He’d seen
changes in the world, especially with the explosion of the mortal population
over the past four hundred years since his birth. The Golden population had
remained about the same, or perhaps decreased slightly recently. But that was
just something he sensed, rather than knew. He wasn’t privy to all the inner
workings of the Golden society, which was as it should be.

He’d been hired on roughly four hundred years ago to help Marcus and
Paolo’s father establish his little estate in Tuscany and raise his eight
children, and sadly, watched both Sr. Monteleone, a lion of a mortal man, as
was his namesake, and his beautiful wife, who was Lionel’s contemporary in
school, die as mortals, without taking the change. He wondered if the brothers
he now served understood the depth of his feeling for their mother. His service
was the least he could do for a kind lady who took pity on him as a young,
struggling waif trying to raise two orphaned brothers after the death of their
parents.

Serving the Monteleones had given his life purpose, and the routine
hadn’t bothered him one bit. He served at night, unless he was given an unusual
night off, like tonight. During the day, he was dead to the mortal world,
locked in a special bedroom that might be impenetrable to anything but a direct
RPG attack. It would withstand a 9.0 earthquake.

No, the vulnerabilities were happening within. Something was brewing
inside him. A sense of loneliness and perhaps a little despair. He’d scented
down dark coven lords who wanted to do injury to the Monteleones, and
“liquidated” their blood, as he was fond of saying.

Sending them back to the source.

That part of his life wasn’t what was causing the problem. It was the
living forever, alone, that began to eat a small hole, like a pinhole in a curtain
during daylight.

This war felt different from all the other attacks he’d survived and
protected the Goldens from. More than about power, this war almost seemed like
a planned annihilation of the Goldens and their progeny. And for what purpose?
He didn’t like fighting a mission he knew nothing about.

So, though it was his night off, he decided to do a little R&R, check
out some haunts some of his dark brethren frequented on the fringes of mortal
society, where it was dangerous, but sometimes delicious. He was in need of
information, but a sexual liaison wouldn’t be half bad, either. It might even
release the tension dwelling in his loins.

He decided to connect with his brothers, Jeb and Hugh. He picked up his
black cell phone and pushed number two. Jeb’s voice came on the line
immediately.

“Hola.”

“Hello, brother. You available?” Lionel asked.

“You need me tonight? Thought we had the night off.” Jeb’s husky voice
was somehow reassuring to him.

“Yes. But I’m going to go mingle, see if I can pick up some information
on the currents I’m feeling.”

“You too, huh?”

“Yes.”

“You talk with Marcus and Paolo tonight?” Jeb asked.

“You mean, do they feel it?” Lionel wished he’d brought it up when Marcus
called him at dusk to tell him he could have the evening off. “I’m sure they
do. But no, I haven’t discussed it with them. He’s been pretty focused on Paolo
and the girl.”

“She’s a stunner. Mortal, though, isn’t that right?”

“Very much so.”

“Paolo’s playing with fire. That one will get the whole family in trouble
if he doesn’t decide which side of the gene pool he belongs to.”

It was true. It could get more than the Monteleone family in trouble. It
could cost him on a more personal basis. Lionel was not only protector to the
Goldens, he would do anything to keep his two brothers safe, being the elder of
the three.

Though they’d never discussed it, Lionel knew Marcus was worried about
his brother, and the little one Paolo was learning to raise. That was the hard
part, he thought. The innocents who were in danger. The Goldens didn’t worry
about defending themselves, but it was their children who were vulnerable. Hard
to live forever with the loss of a mortal child, and he knew that was part of
the strategy of the dark covens encroaching upon the Golden vamps and their
community.

“I wonder how smart it is for Marcus to be set up here in California.
Much safer, I would think, back in Tuscany, where there is a certain safety in
numbers,” Lionel said.

“But I kind of dig it here. From what I can see of it.”

Both the brothers laughed. They lived in one of the most picturesque
places in the whole world, except they couldn’t enjoy it because they only came
out at dark.

“You want to go out?” Lionel asked at last.

“If you need me. Sure. But I had plans.”

“That would be that little red-headed witch you fancy, brother?”

“The very same. She’s been experimenting with some herbs, and I rather
like the effect, if you know what I mean.”

“Be careful.”

“Always. You going to call Huge?”

The nickname was an apt description of the youngest of the three Jett
brothers. Hugh Jett was the tallest by nearly five inches, and stood a whopping
6’7”, a tad taller than his employer, Marcus Monteleone. His size also made him
a favorite of women of all species. It was with some regret that Lionel watched
his youngest brother’s life roll out before him. The vamp would have made a
good family man. But that wasn’t their fate.

No sense arguing with the gods.

“Right after you tell me you’ll not do something foolish. Like fall
asleep in the sun. Remember, Jeb, to indulge in a little play, but keep your
wits about you.”

“Most definitely. “

“In service, then,” Lionel said.

“In service, brother,” Jeb echoed.

Lionel pushed number three on his cell. He heard dead air space at first,
then a lot of static as it sounded like the phone had been dropped right after
it had been answered.

“Hugh here.”

“You all right, brother?” Lionel asked. Huge’s heavy breathing was a
little disconcerting.

“Working out before they close. Why do they call it 24 Hour Abs when they
close at nine o’clock?” Hugh exhaled and Lionel could hear the sound of a
barbell either being dropped or thrown onto a rubber mat.

“You up for a little downtown time?” Lionel asked.

“Sure. I need a few to get cleaned up. Almost done. Got one more rep.
Then I’ll shower.”

“Why do you go to all that work? You’re going to return to your natural
state tomorrow, you know.”

“But what a glorious twelve hours I get, and it makes me feel
double-immortal, if you can wrap your head around that. Totally awesome.”

“Okay, meet me at PRESS in half an hour?”

“Sure. This official, or recreational?”

“Kinda little bit of both. Just doing some digging around, but who knows,
perhaps we could share a little sweet thing, if the right one comes along?”

“Hell yes. Didn’t get pumped up for nothing. I’m going to infect the
whole square with my pheromones.”

“So I’ll have to keep careful watch over you. You feel the dark forces?”
Lionel asked.

“Like a rash. All over the place. Wish they’d just come out and meet us
directly. If it’s going to be a fuckin’ war, wish they’d just get on with it.”

“Could be part of the plan,” Lionel added.

“Or calm before the storm. Maybe they don’t have their ducks in line
yet.”

Lionel laughed, thinking he heard it wrong. “You say dicks?”

“Those, too.”

They shared another throaty laugh.

“That’s why I gotta go rooting around, investigate. Things just aren’t
adding up, Huge. Something major is brewing.”

“You know they have a new dark coven leader, this Dag fellow?” Hugh said.

“I’ve met him a time or two. Newcomer.”

“Like one of their dark toddlers. Hosted off the hands that created him.
Not a good dude. Definitely someone to watch, if we can catch him.”

“Okay, well laters, and Huge—”

“Yeah?”

“Go light on the cologne, ‘kay? I was sneezing blood last time we made
the rounds.”

Hugh’s chuckle was deep and rich like chocolate. Like what he’d tasted of
chocolate, anyhow.

“Au naturel, but fresh soap. They won’t be able to keep their hands off
me.”

“Let’s be discreet, though.”

“Always.”

“In service.”

“In service.”

Downtown Healdsburg was balmy at night this time of year, though it was
tickling winter on this particular late fall evening. Scores of tourists came
too late for crush, when the newly picked fruit was placed in it’s first
fermentation. But they were just in time for some early barrel tasting.
 
Outsiders liked to demonstrate their
ignorance, he thought. While they were imbibing wine and getting high, the dark
coven hordes were feasting off the lifeblood of the tourist population, then glamouring
them to forget their night of wild decadence The result was that the strangers
would go back home and say they had a great time, but would remember little of
it.

It was the same anywhere in the world where the innocent would gather and
the dark creatures would come to host off them in their altered and
unsuspecting state. Lionel had never before asked a man if he could sleep with
his new young wife, but his brother had on numerous occasions. Hugh said he
liked to watch the anger of the husband for a few seconds before he sent out
the glam and put him in a most agreeable state.

“Sure, show her a good time,” they would say. Hugh would promise to do
his best. He would promise the husband he’d send his wife back well trained to
be a most avid sexual partner. And that is usually what happened. So, Hugh
never thought he was doing anything wrong. He was, in fact, enhancing the human
sexual experience, in his opinion.

But it gave Lionel problems. “Just because they don’t remember doesn’t
mean it’s right,” he’d argued with his brother. It was the old
tree-in-the-forest-with-no-one-to-hear-it-fall-argument. In Lionel’s mind, the
tree fell whether or not anyone was around to hear it. If a woman was violated
and forced to go outside of her marriage vows, it mattered little that she
didn’t remember it afterwards. It was never right. Lionel would never take a
woman who didn’t fully consent and wasn’t free to choose.

Young Maria Monteleone, Marcus and Paolo’s mother, had gotten dangerously
close to Lionel on several occasions in their young adult years, after he’d
been recently turned. He used to watch her close the drapes and ask him if he
was comfortable on the few occasions he’d had to be alone with her, as her security
detail. She knew he had to sleep during long sunny days, and had tried to make
him feel at ease with her. But there was a dark side that had wanted to reach
up and take hold of this woman and claim her for himself.

Thoughts. Just thoughts.
He
hoped his actions never revealed his inner feelings, but somehow he knew she
did suspect his loyalty was more than just duty and honor. It was as close to a
love as he’d ever experienced, though one-sided. That was more than three
hundred years ago, and nothing had tarnished the bright memory of that lady
since, even as he watched her age and wither, as he tended to her physical
needs in the end, after the death of her husband, carrying her to the garden
pools at midnight or pushing her around in the wheelchair by starlight. They’d
watch the moon set together. She used to love the stars, and it was on one
starry night that she died of natural causes, as a human. He’d made a solemn
vow to protect her children throughout eternity. He intended to keep that
promise.

Unlike the Goldens, dark vampires had no Council that ruled on disputes.
Dark covens were created by leaders who risked their immortal lives to grow in
power and stature, and their culture became, in a strange Darwinian fashion, a
survivor of the fittest society, ruled by the darkest covens and the wars they
could generate. Outside of a coven supreme leader, there wasn’t anyone in
authority, unlike the Golden vampire community with its Council.

So where, exactly, did that leave him and his brothers?

Employed.
They had nearly
unlimited funds, but nowhere to spend it. Sexual powers and desires that would
rival the Goldens, but no time to use them. They existed to protect the
families of what Lionel had begun to believe was the master race of
vampires.
 
He’d never thought about
whether or not it was a fair tradeoff. He’d never considered any other line of
work.

Lionel was relaxed but wary as he strode down the wet streets of the
little winery town. The heels of his scuffed Doc Martens pounded along the
sidewalk, causing storefront glass to wobble. He made a point to go lighter, so
as not to draw attention to his preternatural powers. He wanted to spend the
evening without drawing undue attention, if he could.

His standard uniform was black leather jacket with the myriad of zippered
pockets, his tight black Levis with more pockets, and the lace-up boots with
the steel toes he wore everywhere except for a tuxedo affair. Since those only
came along a couple of times a century, he still had a pair of pumps he’d bought
back in the 1800’s made from pressed alligator—an illegal substance in
today’s world—which were perfect and drew little attention.

 
PRESS was full of people
tonight. The first thing that struck him was the giddy laughter coming from the
bar and dark corners of the place, even though the lighting was darker than
usual. It wasn’t the romantic quiet he usually found at a hook-up place. There
were groups of people everywhere. Things were being said indiscreetly.
Boundaries were being pushed. He was hit with glamour from all directions,
indicating the dark forces were very present.

Perfect. Just what you wanted,
right?

He felt his brother’s words coming from his right and he turned to find
Hugh toasting him with a dark red glass of what was probably Meritage, his
favorite blend of three wines, which matched his sexual tastes to a T.

That it is, brother.
“You are
eager tonight, Huge,” Lionel said as he took his seat in front of him and
watched his brother’s features by light of the little votive candle on the shiny
laminate tabletop.

“As ever.” Hugh nodded to a couple of new lovelies who had just walked
into the den of sins, eyes as wide and blue-green as the ocean. Lionel knew
they had no idea what was in store for them. They were expensively dressed, and
obviously not aware of what a rough crowd they’d walked in on.

Hugh apologized to him, and stood, then walked over to the two mortal
girls and invited them to their table. They had to crane their necks to look up
into their host’s face, and then pulled a look around him to see Lionel sitting
at the table. He nodded to them, and the redhead smiled and started walking
right toward him. That left Hugh with the brunette, and Lionel knew that would
be just fine.

The redhead’s light pink skin and fresh scent pounded a flush to Lionel’s
groin area and his pants became unbearably tight. Then she touched his
shoulder, balancing herself on him while she tried to sit down gracefully in
spite of an impossibly short skirt and four-inch heels with laces that came to
her knees. The dark shadow between her thighs made Lionel’s fangs ache, but he
pressed them back up and swallowed. He’d surely bite himself if he couldn’t
have her, and very soon.

But then he remembered himself and his mission. He needed to gather
information about the dark hordes lounging here this evening, looking for
recreation and perhaps willing to slip their guard a bit. He chuckled as the
redhead removed her jacket to reveal an exquisite set of breasts that all but
shouted his name, and this time his fangs dropped properly low and would not
behave.

Did she see?

He send a little glam her way just as Hugh and the other girl slid past
her shoulders and took a place next to each other on the bench seat across from
him.

Hugh was having great fun watching him, Lionel could tell. Not that his
brother hadn’t taken the time to adequately appreciate the redhead’s mammary
glands.

Would be a shame to have a dark
toddler suck those beautiful orbs and deform them, brother. Not that you were
thinking along those lines,
Hugh sent out to him.

Not possible, Huge. You know that.

No?
 
With the powerful cum you’re going to lay inside her, who
knows what could happen? I know you can see what she’d look like.

Keep your eyes on your own plate,
brother,
Lionel answered.

You suggested sharing…

Lionel squinted a dark glare at Hugh, who sat back, and draped his arm
around the brunette. Her impossibly red lips parted and a whole new set of
visions flooded Lionel’s head.

Hugh chuckled, raised his glass to his brother, and then motioned for a
cocktail waitress. The redhead touched her bare thigh against Lionel’s, and
through the jeans he felt the intentional caress of a mortal woman who had come
to the bar to find sex. Well, he’d have to oblige, but not until his need for
information was satisfied. Then he could satisfy himself with the knowledge of
what she had barely covered up so with her panties. The knowledge of what it
would feel like to slip in and out of her, what the taste of her blood would be
as she moaned his name. He didn’t need to drink wine to get high. He’d get it
from her.

The cocktail waitress went off in search of a very expensive bottle of
Ravenswood Meritage, mumbling something about having to go downstairs to the
cave storage to look for it. Lionel could tell Hugh had glamoured her too. Hugh
had a fondness for taking his mortal conquests in wine caves and cool
refrigerated private collections.

Lionel adjusted his jacket and the blue-green-eyed beauty on his right
smiled as she appraised the leather and what lay underneath. “Can I help you
with your jacket? You look hot.”

Her scent came to him like a blast furnace, along with the double
meaning. It was good to be coveted, he thought. Nice that it happened without
him having to expend an ounce of glam on her, too. Totally willing.

“Sure,” he said, adjusting his fangs before breaking a smile. She’d
probably think he was trying not to smile, but he didn’t want to scare her,
until it was time to do so. Just a little scare before the bite. Before the
rapture of what it would feel like as he breathed into her ear, whispered
incantations and took her. “But mind your hands. I have vera vera sensitive
skin,” he added in a mock accent.

“Oh, I hope so,” she gushed. Her tiny pink fingers traveled quickly over
his pecs, and tugged at the thick collar of the jacket, pulling it off his
shoulders. He leaned forward, his face close to hers, allowing his dark hair to
brush against her cheek, and felt her body shudder in response. She finished
removing the heavy jacket and let it drape behind him on the chair. “Sorry,
it’s very heavy, and a little too heavy for me. I’m afraid I’ve made a bit of a
mess.”

You have no idea.
He had
practically come in his pants, but willed himself some control. He nodded,
slowly perusing her chest while she watched him do it. “I don’t mind. I’m
enjoying whatever your hands can do, and I can see you are skilled.”

The girl blushed. Had he glammed her? If she caught a little breath from
him, it wasn’t intentional. He loved that his proximity made her tingle, blush,
feel self-conscious. It’s what he loved most about mortal women. He never liked
women that threw themselves at him. Her combination of subtlety and grace
charmed him, and he allowed it to be so. Even fantasized she could glamour him.

Lionel broke the tension by looking over at his brother. Hugh had his
tongue down the brunette’s throat and had already a hand under the table,
snaking up her red knit dress. He would be no use tonight, Lionel thought. He
could feel his brother sending sexual fantasies into the lady’s consciousness,
and could hear her slight moan in response.

So far so good.
Lionel scanned
the room just before the waitress returned with the bottle of wine Hugh had
selected. She frowned when Hugh didn’t acknowledge it, being otherwise
occupied.

“Thank you,” Lionel said to the waitress as he pressed a one hundred
dollar bill into her palm. This got her attention.

“Oh, thank you so much. Let me know if you need anything else?” Her smile
was brave, but Lionel could see she fancied his brother, as most mortal women
did.

Lionel removed the cork and slowly poured the wine while tipping the
glass, so that the deep burgundy substance rolled back in a wave that resembled
thick blood. The aroma was excellent, but he put the glass to his nose anyway the
way humans did when savoring a nice bouquet. He closed his eyes as he swirled
the liquid over his palate, wishing it were the feel and taste of the redhead’s
lovely life force.

There will be time enough for that.

“You like?” He said to her. She had been watching his Adam’s apple,
almost like a vamp female. But her scent told him she clearly wasn’t.

“Yes, I like.” She looked him straight in the eyes. He could feel her
saying words, although unclear, like there was a filter between them, but part
of the telepathy was working.
Take me,
she was saying.

“Good.” He tipped the glass to her lips. She closed her eyes and mirrored
his tasting actions, swirling the liquid over her tongue. She licked her lips
and coated them with the fermented elixir.

It was totally spontaneous. With her eyes still closed, he covered her
mouth with his and she parted quickly and allowed him access. She sucked at his
lips as he did the same. She was lovely, and just what he needed. He brought
his hand to the back of her head and sifted through her long locks. She was
intoxicating to him.

“More wine?” he asked as they parted and stared into each other’s eyes.

“Please.” It meant more than the wine.

“Your wish is my command.” They both smiled.

He was suddenly aware of motion coming from his left. The room had taken
on an agitated air. He heard a chair crash and something very large hit the
floor.