Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) (16 page)

Cara awoke with a start and then realized she’d slept so soundly,
probably in the same position all night long, that her body ached. Daylight had
produced a pink blush on the blue-grey sky. Checking the time, she decided to
get up early and prepare for a long day of classes and meeting with Johnny.

She smiled as she thought about her research assistant and his proposal
the night before. Could she consider him a welcome distraction? Someone she
could pass some pleasurable time with as she tried to rid herself of the vision
of Paolo? And how awkward would it be if she experienced a wonderful evening of
sex with someone else, knowing Paolo would also feel every ripple, shudder and
her body’s inner explosion?

Would she be able to let herself go, feel the joy of sex with any other
man? Ever? Could she beg that he stay away, stay out of her head?

 
“I am vampire,” he’d said.
Incredible as that idea was, she could not trust herself right now to believe
him. Even though all the evidence pointed to that undeniable fact. Maybe he
could be some kind of psychic who could control her thoughts. Maybe he’d
convinced himself he was a vampire and she was falling under his mental spell.
That she might be able to wrap her mind around and believe.

She lathered herself with shower gel, enjoying the silky feeling of her
own skin, letting her fingers slide over areas he’d kissed. Her nipples were
taught and tender, her pulse boomed throughout her body as she remembered him
beside her, inside her. He was, after all, the man of her dreams, but a
vampire?
No way.

Cara pushed the visions of him in the shower with her out of her head and
concentrated on getting clean.

She hardly thought Paolo could be the sort to suck the lifeblood from
unsuspecting females in the night, she decided as she toweled off. Besides,
she’d been with him in the day, in the sunny afternoon. There were no ill
effects, other than the craving she felt for him and his lovemaking, how he
satisfied every sexual desire she’d ever had and a lot she’d never imagined by
herself. Something just yesterday she’d have thought was heaven-sent.

She hung up her damp towel and looked at herself in the mirror.

I’ve had sex with a vampire?
No.
It wasn’t true. There must be some other explanation for the things happening
around her.

But how could she explain the sudden disappearance, right before her
eyes, she wondered as she slipped on her black lace panties and matching bra.
She brushed her hair, staring again into the mirror. Would he like the way she
looked right now?

Stop this,
she scolded herself.
Cara tried to focus on the facts, the details of his disappearance. There had
to be something she was missing.

Must be some trick. Some sleight of
hand.
But, she’d checked her room last night, and he simply hadn’t been
there. And yet she still heard him respond to her, telling her where he was
after she questioned it. She knew if she asked him right now, he’d answer her.
Should she try it again?

This is crazy.

Cara finished dressing. She had chosen a little black dress and patterned
stockings with black pumps. She scrunched her hair up with a crystal-embedded
black clip, and wore bright red lipstick.

My version of Elvira
, she
thought. Yes. He would love the way she looked. Only things missing were red
fingernails, and she wouldn’t go that far.

Paolo had watched the sun rise, sitting at the kitchen table by himself.
He was filled with loneliness and regret. She hadn’t called to him, although he’d
stayed awake most of the night. He wished she had needed him in her bed. Maybe
she
was
going to be able to live
without him. He knew he was going to have to prepare himself to live without
her. Question was, who would be stronger?

But then he felt her hands smooth down the black wool dress, over her
breasts, her hips and her flat tummy. He closed his eyes and could feel the
heat of her body as he imagined her standing in front of him, as he bent to
kiss her lovely neck so nicely exposed for him. He imagined his palm sliding up
under the black fabric to feel—no—to need to feel the softness of
her flesh encased in black panties. She wore black for him today. His groin
became granite.

Would he be able to concentrate on anything today except the thought of
her? He decided he’d better learn to.

Marcus entered the kitchen in his boxers, bare-chested.

“Morning, brother,” he said to Paolo.

“It is a beautiful morning. I watched it being born.” Paolo tried to
sound cheerful.

Marcus went to the coffee maker and poured himself a fresh cup Paolo had
brewed. The smells of the Mocha Java blend swirled around the room as Paolo
sensed his brother was hesitating to speak of something. Marcus joined him at
the table and sipped the hot, black liquid.

“Got a disturbing call from Lionel Jett last night.”

Paolo felt alarm spread up and down his spine as he sat up straight and
focused on the handsome face of his older brother and the worry lines between
his eyebrows.

“Oh? How so?”

“You know Rubin, the executioner?”

“I can hardly say I know him, but, yes, I’ve seen his despicable work.
Don’t tell me Lionel had to experience one of Rubin’s trophies.”

“Rubin was emasculated in front of a whole crowd of onlookers at Press.
Not physically emasculated, mind you, but it appears he has a new master,”
Marcus’ dark eyes focused on Paolo’s coffee cup, avoiding his brother’s
questioning gaze.

“Who might that be?” Paolo knew it before his brother answered.

“Dag Nielsen.”

Paolo looked out the kitchen window to the garden and bare-limbed orchard
that spread down the hill.
 
This
was definitely not a good sign.

“Rory Monteleone confronted him about the death of young Thomas. Dag
stopped the fight.”

“What happened to his protection team?” Paolo wanted to know.

“They were there, but outnumbered by Rubin’s men and some new dark vamps
Lionel had never seen before. I think they were hoping the fight would just die
on its own, but when Dag showed up, Lionel decided to stand down. He was with
his brother, Huge.”

Paolo nodded.
 
“You sent him
out?”

“Not exactly. Took it on his own.”

“Where are they now?”

“I’m assuming they’re sleeping, hopefully alone.”

Paolo found light amusement in the fact that the Jett brothers were
extremely attractive to human females and had never had trouble finding fleeting
companionship without strings over the decades. Something he was unable to do.

Good for them.

“I have to tell you Lionel is worried. Very worried,” Marcus continued.
“It appears the numbers of darks are increasing at an alarming rate, almost
like an army is being assembled here in California.”

“Why here?” Paolo asked.

“Good question.”

“So the executioner is now Dag’s man. Hard to imagine Trevor Farnsworth
would relinquish him,” Paolo said.

“Which means Trevor Farnsworth is dead. As is Dag’s former Coven Supreme
Leader.”

Paolo wondered how the other dark coven leaders were handling this turn
of events. He suspected there could be an ally or two amongst them, but wasn’t
sure who he could trust.

“In case you’re thinking of getting further involved, I forbid it,
brother,” Marcus said over the top of his coffee cup.

“I already am, Marcus. As long as I’m in your household here in
California, if you are a target, I am certainly the secondary.”

“Not true.”

“Excuse me?” Paolo knew he wouldn’t like what Marcus was going to say
next.

“Brother, search your heart. Look at what they have been doing, picking a
fight, luring out the younger Goldens. You know as well as I do that the real
target is Lucius.”

Paolo didn’t want to agree, but he had to.

“Leave the research and covert stuff to us. I think Lionel was born for
this kind of caper. Your primary responsibility is to your son, to see to it
that nothing happens to him. Mine is to Anne and little Ian. I’ve asked Lionel
to find us some human ex-special forces guards he can trust. We may need the
protection both day and night now.”

“So living in idyllic Sonoma County with heavily armed guards—will
this be the kind of lifestyle you wanted, brother?” Paolo asked.

“I have no choice. Not until they come out in the open. I think this will
become an all-out assault soon. Don’t think we have much time. I’ve already
notified the Council, and they are sending an ambassador.

Paolo knew this had not happened in more than a hundred years. Their
species had enjoyed a relative peace with the mortal as well as the dark
vampire world, allowing the Goldens to blend into human society and amass great
wealth and power. But he knew nothing human could stop the dark forces looming
in the distance.

Best keep my wits about me. Humans
have gods they can pray to. Right now I can’t be bothered with such drivel.

Cara parked her car in the employee lot. She was a half hour early for
class, so decided to stop by her office to see if Johnny had thought to do the
same. Oddly, she felt happy to get back into the routine of teaching, being of
service to her students. It would give her delicious moments away from thoughts
of—

The moment she opened the glass door to Montgomery Hall, she noticed that
a small group of people had formed a semicircle outside her office door.
 
Her pumps clacked down the shiny vinyl
tiles of the otherwise deserted, wide hallway.

The circle parted and left just enough room for Cara to insert herself. She
looked down at the floor, where everyone’s eyes were focused. Seeping from under
the locked door to her personal office was a puddle of thick, red blood. It was
getting larger.

She dug in her coat pocket for her keys, setting down her computer. As
she reached for the door handle, ready to insert a brass key into the lock she
heard a shout from the opposite entrance to the hallway.

“Stop! Wait. Don’t touch anything.” Two uniformed policemen were running
down the vinyl hallway, their equipment jangling on their leather utility
belts. “I must ask you to step away—all of you,” the heavyset older
officer said, scanning the crowd and finally landing on Cara with a scowl. “You
have the key to this office?” he said to her.

“Yes. It’s my office.”

“Any idea what’s gone on in there? Who I might find on the other side of
this door?” the officer said.

“The only other person who has a key, other than someone in Admin, is my
research assistant, Johnny Davis.” Cara stared at the blood and for a brief
moment, thought she would lose her breakfast all over the policeman’s shoes.
She inhaled sharply and added, “I was to meet him here, or in the classroom
this morning.”

“He acting funny or out of sorts?” the officer asked.

“No. I talked to him last night. He seemed fine.”

“Let’s see your key,” the other officer held out his hand. It was clad in
a plastic glove. Cara deposited the keys in his palm, isolating the office key.
The officer stepped wide to avoid the puddle of blood and knocked on the door
while the other officer dispersed the crowd. Sirens were shrieking in the
background. When there was no answer, he tried the handle and found it locked.

Cara felt strangly disconnected, and numb as the officer inserted the key
into the lock and turned the handle. She watched the other officer with his gun
drawn, holding it with both hands with mild detachment. As the door creaked
open, the limp body of Johnny fell out into the hallway. His face was caught in
a grimace, lips beginning to turn blue, his face ghastly white and not the
tanned, healthy look Cara was used to. His head rolled at a weird angle, barely
connected to his neck.

Someone had practically ripped Johnny’s head from his torso. Cara’s blood
went ice cold. She couldn’t stop herself from staring into the glassy blue-grey
eyes of her once fun-loving assistant. It was as if she expected him to sit up
and tell her he was playing a prank.

But this was no prank. Death stared back at her and for the first time in
her life she was terrified, frozen in place, unable to do a thing about it.

A woman onlooker fainted and another started to scream. People began retching
and racing through the hallway doors to the outside. More uniformed officers
arrived and took control of the crowd. Cara remained transfixed. She slowly
began to wonder if the person who had laid in wait for Johnny had intended her
to be the target. She wondered how someone managed to get out of the office
without leaving the door unlocked, since the door could only be locked from the
inside without a key, almost as if someone could walk through walls.

Or transport.

“That’s—that’s Johnny, my assistant…” Cara heard her voice waver.
Tears had started to collect in her eyes. The sickly smell of fresh blood
singed her nostrils. She turned her face to the side and examined the inside of
her office door.

“What is it?” one of the officers asked her.

“Someone must have a key. You can’t walk out and have it lock behind you
automatically. I had the locks changed because I was locking myself out all the
time.”

“Found a key here,” one of the officers said as he searched Johnny’s
pockets.
 

“So I gotta ask you one more time, who else has a key?”

“The admin staff, and probably the college janitorial service. They have
a whole crew.”

The second officer stepped aside and spoke quietly into his shoulder
microphone. Cara looked into the office after the light was turned on. Papers
and books were scattered everywhere, some with their edges soaking up Johnny’s
lifeblood. Every drawer in her desk had been upended. All her shelves were
wiped clean, the books nearly covering the entire floor of her tiny office. The
telephone receiver was left off the hook. Even her trash appeared to have been
searched and dumped on the desktop.