Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) (17 page)

“Can you tell if anything obvious is missing?” one of the uniforms asked
Cara.

She shook her head. “Impossible to tell. Who would do this?”

“Not a robbery, because it doesn’t look like his wallet has been removed,”
one of the officers said from his kneeling position next to the body.

“I’d say, from the looks of it, someone was looking for something stored
in a book or file somewhere. You got anything, a valuable document maybe, that
someone would want?”

Paolo felt the terror in Cara’s heart. He saw the body in front of her
just as if he was standing there. He had to work on himself not to trace to her
side for protection. But he had given his word.

He’d gone back to the guest wing and was planning to take Lucius to
school personally when he received the vision of Cara’s office. The to-do list
he had created was crumpled in his right hand.

“Father, I’m ready.” Lucius ran into the room and gave him a hug. The
boy’s fresh mortal scent always made him feel lucky, and incredibly happy. But
today, knowing there was probably a dark vamp on a killing spree, his need to
protect his son weighed on him. It was suddenly urgent he talk with the Jett boys
to make sure the daytime detail was in place. He wanted to personally interview
every one of them.

“You’ve had your breakfast?” he said to Lucius’ dark brown eyes. The
boy’s freckled nose scrunched up, and Paolo saw he’d forgotten to have anything
to eat. “You want a hamburger and French fries and a strawberry shake on the
way?”

“Could we?”

“Well, you could. But you know I don’t care for the taste.”

“I know.” Lucius’ palms lay flat against Paolo’s cheeks. “You are what
you are, and I am what I am.”

It was one of those moments when Paolo was convinced the boy could not
have been of his issue. The roles at this particular moment had been reversed,
and suddenly he was student to his son, who was wise way beyond his years. His
need to protect his son was paramount. He knew that if he had to sacrifice
himself to save Lucius, he would be doing his race a tremendous service. Paolo
saw in the boy the future of the whole Golden vampire clan. He could feel the
boy’s destiny as surely as he could smell the blood of mortals.

Paolo felt ridiculous going through the fast food drive-through while
driving Marcus’s black Maserati, something Laurel and the other siblings back
home in Tuscany would find odd. But this was Lucius’s world, and it included drive-through,
text messaging and cell phone games. He wanted the boy to have a normal
upbringing, not living the gilded princeling days of the superrich, which might
distort his warm heart and avid mind. Lucius would be required to do great
things in the future, Paolo thought. Time for being a king among Golden vampires
would come soon enough. Now it was time to be a normal human boy.

They sat in the car while Lucius finished off his meal and wiped his
hands and face with the moist towelettes he carried in his backpack. This also surprised
Paolo.

“Where did you get these?” he asked as he held up the foil packet.

“Cook. She said using these would keep me from getting the flu.”

“Ah.” Paolo made a mental note to thank the cook, who was more a
grandmother to the boy than his real grandmother, Aurora, that half-witch bitch
mother of his fated female. Paolo found the reminder of the boy’s mortal
vulnerabilities touching.

He got out of the car and gave Lucius a brief hug so as not to embarrass
him, and then watched him join several other friends. The cheerful gang of
normal human boys ran together to their classroom just as the bell was ringing.

As he sat in his car, he felt another wave of Bella’s despair. He’d seen
Johnny’s face and felt her mourn for him. It didn’t make Paolo jealous. But he
wished she would summon him. He could reach out and touch her with a message,
but he’d given his word.

As he drove back to the Monteleone estate through downtown Healdsburg, he
was struck with how normal the little town looked. Since it was a tourist
Mecca, several large white busses were parked near the square. He pulled into a
parking spot and went inside to get a cappuccino and hope he would feel Bella
reaching out to him soon.

The screaming of the milk foaming machine was harsh, but not as harsh as
the sound of sirens whizzing by. Perhaps there had been an accident on the
freeway. Paolo’s cell phone rang. It was Marcus.

“They’ve found Rory dead in an alleyway. Ripped the poor boy’s head clean
off.”

Paolo knew Marcus was beside himself with grief. Since Rory was in
California, and under Marcus’ protection, this would be counted as a failure on
their part, but would fall mostly on Marcus.

“I think the time for you to remain in California is limited, brother.
You have to ask yourself if it is worth it.”

“I’m not running from them. They won’t defeat us.”

“Maybe not us. Maybe we’ll live for eternity, but what about our
children, Marcus? Surely they don’t have to pay the price.”

“I’m taking measures.”

“Simple when Ian is little, but I just dropped Lucius off at school.
He’ll be unprotected until I pick him up. I’m going daft with worry just
thinking about it. As much as I hate to, I think I should bring him back to
Tuscany, where we have the majority.”

“That’s your choice. What about the girl?”

“Sacrifice, brother. My primary goal is to keep you, your family and my
son safe.”

“She knows more than she should, Paolo. You perhaps should wipe her
memory.”

“That I can do.” Paolo flinched inwardly about the difficulty of this
task. He wasn’t sure he could bear the look on her face when she saw him for
what she would think was the first time. But it would be for her own
protection. “There is other bad news, Marcus.”

“Oh?”

“The girl’s assistant was found dead this morning in her office at the
University.”

“Found dead?”

“From the sight of the face, I’m guessing he was drained. Neck ripped
open and head ripped mostly off, though. Brutal. A dark executioner did this, I
am positive.”

“What’s the scene like?”

“I haven’t been over. Just what she saw, and she was scared brother.
Almost catatonic. The office was ransacked.” Paolo paused, and then said in a
whisper, “We still have that gift, brother. I can feel her emotions, and hear
her thoughts. Like a fating. And it’s getting stronger.”

“Is it a fating?”

“Sadly, it is not. Definitely not a fating. Although I have tried to tell
myself it is. Wouldn’t it be incredible if there was the possibility I could
have two fated females?”

“Unbelievably lucky. But you say no.”

“The physical attraction is there, no question. But not the animalistic,
all-encompassing—”

“I get it.”

Paolo had always felt guilty for bedding Marcus’s long-time
paramour.
 
“This is different. The
feelings I have for this mortal woman are growing. And with those feelings, the
gifts are getting clearer and clearer.”

“Interesting.”

“And I have control, not that I don’t want to be by her side, but I still
have some control, not like with—”

“There has to be something of substance there. I’ll consult with the Council
next I am in contact. In the meantime, why don’t you trace to her? Investigate
the murder?”

“She hasn’t summoned me, and I gave her my word.”

Cara sat alone in the lecture hall, where her now-cancelled classes would
have taken place, her head resting in her hands elbows dug into the black desk top.
She gently rubbed her temples, and remembered how Paolo had done this, to ease
her mind. She imagined his long fingers atop hers, imagined hearing his steady
breathing and drawing in his spicy, lemony scent. She knew she could call him
and he would be right there, in front of her. She knew she wasn’t hiding
anything from him by refusing to summon him because he knew what she was
feeling. The ache she felt for him was growing.

You are still an addiction to me.

She was relieved that he left her alone. But was this smart? Somehow, she
knew he had answers she needed.

The coroner and forensics team were done with the office, the body, and
their questions for everyone who had been standing around the door, as well as
the janitor, the school administration officials and several of her students
who knew Johnny better than most. They stuck their heads into the amphitheater door
and said their goodbyes. She had a tiny stack of their business cards in case
she remembered or found something of interest.

She could not warm up, and a dull ache pounded in her thighs. Cara’s
bones were stone cold and she felt old. She wanted to be home in bed in her
flannel pajamas, wrapped in the comforter her grandmother had made, with a cup
of hot tea and a lemon slice on the side.

Lemons. Will I ever be able to
smell lemons without—don’t answer that.

The shock of the last few hours gave way as she finally allowed herself
to grieve for Johnny. Warm tears streamed down her cheeks as she raised her
head and stared at the sea of empty lecture chairs.

Why? Why Johnny?
Had something
happened at the dance she didn’t notice? Did Johnny have some kind of secret
life that she knew nothing about? Or, was it a random act?

‘They’re looking for something in a
book, perhaps a book itself.’
 
Perhaps it was time to show Paolo the book.

Should I be afraid of him? Who can
I trust?
He seemed like the only option available to her. Johnny’s death
left her feeling alone and unprotected in a world that suddenly felt very dangerous.

“Paolo?” She said to the room.
 
“Are you there?”

I am.

I’m afraid. Johnny—

I have seen it through your eyes.
You are in danger. Let me come to you.

I have a book I think you need to
see.

Book?

Yes, I have located a book by Alasdair
Fraser. And there is a letter in it. I think you should see it.

Yes. Cara, do not think about the
book right now. Make no mention of it in your mind, either. Summon me so I can
protect you. You are in danger, mi amore.

There it was again, that doorway to the unknown. He was asking her to
believe in the fact that he was vampire and could be summoned. That perhaps
someone else could read her thoughts. Did she really want proof of this?

Nothing can harm you if I am by
your side. Alone you are vulnerable.
He did sound urgent.

Okay.
She remembered what she’d
said in the bathtub,
Come to me, Paolo.

And there he was, standing on the other side of the desk, all six foot
something of him. Handsome, eyes ardent and studying her face, her neck, her
upper torso, making her tingle and blush. He smiled as if he could feel what
she felt inside.

Of course I can. It brings me
unspeakable pleasure to do so.

Tears began to well up as her emotions exploded. It was too much for her
to comprehend. Johnny was dead. Killed by some sinister person, probably a
vampire, perhaps a vampire Paolo knew, which made it even worse. And there was
an undeniable attraction to this tall male who could transport himself
immediately from here to there, had fangs, and who had made her feel wonderful
just yesterday afternoon—all afternoon, making her feel more alive than
she had ever felt in her life. It was a strange combination of death and new
beginnings.

I am at a crossroads.

You are, mi amore.

I am afraid.

You should be. There is a war
brewing.

“Can you help me? Help me understand?” she asked him out loud.

I can, if you will trust me.
He
held his arms out to the sides, beckoning her to come to him. She had no choice
but run to him, nestling her face in his chest, reveling in the feeling of his
arms wrapped around her. Protecting her. Perhaps—something else too.

He held her face between his large palms. “Let me teach you about me and
my kind. There isn’t nearly enough time, and this isn’t how I wanted to do it.
But if you understand, I can teach you what I believe are some opportunities
 
possible. Things neither of us ever
dreamed could happen.”

She placed her hands over his wrists and studied the strong face of the
man she knew she had fallen deeply in love with. A man she had been searching
for her whole life. Cara decided in that moment to embrace the new adventure
like her life depended on it.

Because perhaps it did.

The fluttering of warm wind all around Cara made her feel like she was
floating in a cloud of butterflies. Pressed against Paolo’s chest, as he held
her there, she laid her head to the side and listened to a heartbeat she hadn’t
known he had. In a handful of seconds, the sensation stopped, the tracing was complete,
and she was standing in her bedroom, her arms up and about his neck.

She tipped her head back and willed him to bend his full red lips to
cover hers. It was delicious to moan into him, and feel the deep rumble of his
chest in response. He took everything she could give in the kiss, but she still
needed to give him more.

His fingers laced through the hair at the back of her head. He pulled,
arching her face away from his, kissing the side of her neck. She pressed her
lower torso into his groin and felt his desire.

She needed him too.
Please,
she
mentally sent him between kisses, now becoming ravenously needy. She was starved
for his ministrations.

Cara began to remove her blouse, watching as his eyes went to fire while she
removed her bra. He came to his knees and kissed each nipple tenderly. She held
his head, clutching at the loose curls, loving the feel of his mouth on her
sensitive flesh.

“You are a wonder, mi Carabella.”

You awaken me.

He groaned and lifted her up, laying her tenderly on the bed. He removed
his clothes and then shimmied her skirt down her hips like tissue paper.
 
Slowly hooking her black lace panties with
one long forefinger he slipped them easily down, the backs of his fingers
smoothing over her thigh all the way to her ankles, and then off.

He parted her knees, tenderly easing two fingers inside her folds. She
arched with the pleasure of his penetration, of the reassurance of what was
going to happen between them in the coming moments.

“I’ve missed this,” Cara said between sighs. She wanted to lose herself
in the feel and scent of this man and forget the ugly scene from earlier this
morning.

He twisted his head to the side, and with the lopsided smile curling up the
corners of his smooth, full lips, said to her, “Bella, mi amore. It has only
been one day. Already one day is too much for you?”

There it was, the honesty between them, though there was still so much
she did not know about him. She was unafraid to show him how much she needed
him to make love to her. “Yes. Already one day is too long without this.” It
was difficult to get the words out.

He covered her body with his, sliding his thighs beneath hers, lifting
her bottom up off the bed with his hands and pausing at her opening. “It is the
same for me, Carabella. I dream of this almost every waking moment.”

He began to slide inside her, slowly. She lost herself in the dark pools
of his eyes, the faint lemony scent of his chest covering her, making her feel
safe and protected. Without speaking she was telling him how it felt, how her
body ached to be possessed by him. He nodded and gently filled her to his hilt.
Then he began to pump and drill deep inside her, pulling her chest up flat
against him, pressing her breasts into the warmth of his hard body. She drew
her arms up over his neck and he grabbed her underside, moving her up and down
on his enormous shaft. His long, fluid strokes rocking her body back and forth
on him made her insides explode.

She squeezed down on his girth until at last his spasms overtook him. He
lunged deep inside her and held her buttocks in place so hard she thought
perhaps she’d have welts.

I will kiss the pain away, if I’ve
left a mark,
he told her.

“I’ll wear your mark with pride,” she whispered. “I didn’t want you to
let me go.”

I never will
he said to her.
“Mi amore,” he whispered into her ear, kissing down the right side of her neck.

She knew he wanted to bite her. He was looking down, at the place where
their bodies joined as their breathing hitched in tandem, as she admired his
flat abdomen and the shadow that was their joining. She lifted his head,
placing her palms under his jaw, and placed his forehead against hers. She
relished the feeling of him between her legs, the rhythm of his breathing. His
mouth was just out of reach, so she turned her head and mated his lips to hers,
and then searched for the fangs inside with her tongue.

She allowed a pinprick from his sharp canine, and presented the drop of
blood on her tongue to him, spreading it over his own. His breath became
ragged, and labored like a runner. His cock inside her sprang to life and began
to lurch. He rocked her body over his groin, burrowing deeper, in a circular
motion.

“Take me, Paolo. Take me
your
way. I want to do this for you,” she said.

At first he shook his head, but she held his face in her hands again and
with firm resolve, nodded back, “Yes, I want you to take me in your way. Your
custom.”

“There is no custom for this. You are human and I am vampire.”

“Please?” she begged.

“This is not wise, Carabella.” He groaned as she clamped down on him
again with her muscles.

“I need this. I need you to mate with me, Paolo, in the old way, the
ancient way.” She kissed the side of his neck and under his jawline. “The way
of your ancestors,” she whispered in his ear.

His eyes held questions. She was searching for some indication as to what
he was thinking, but he had blocked his thoughts.

“Let me in, Paolo. Let me see what you don’t want me to see.”

He smiled. She could feel his will dissolving, and images started coming
on strong. She saw herself naked across his big oak carved bed with the cream
satin sheets. Torches lit the room and shadows on the heavy stone walls danced
in the erotic rhythm of his heartbeat. Her arms were pinned above her head as
he held her wrists with one hand.

You would take me to your bedroom?

That is my room in Tuscany. If I
took you there, I would never let you go. Never, Carabella.
He closed his
eyes and the image was gone.

She traced his hairline with her forefinger, marveling at the tanned,
smooth skin, the shiny dark hair and the dark, chocolate-brown eyes with lashes
that made him look dangerous and demure at the same time. He’d told her he was
naturally shy.

Do you blush when you recall what
we’ve done?
She asked as she kept her legs wrapped around his thighs,
holding on with arms wrapped around his neck.

His warm smile told her everything she needed to know.

Take me now, Paolo. Here, on my
bed. Take me and mark me and make me your own.

He bent to give her a brief kiss, then followed below her chin and then
laid down a moist trail with his tongue, tracing over the vein pounding in her
neck. He held her back with two strong palms beneath her shoulder blades. His
eyes scanned her chest, paying close attention to her nipples as they hardened
under his gaze.

Relax,
he said to her, and
immediately she was flooded with waves of pleasure. The touch of his skin
against hers, inside her body, warmed her and she began to glow.

She relaxed her weight, trusting that his powerful arms would fully
support her. His neck was exposed to her as well. She leaned forward and let
her tongue wander and taste the salty goodness of his skin as he had done
earlier.

He kissed her again, sucking and nibbling on her lower lip, making little
liquid noises, and then inhaled.

Are you sure?

I am sure, Paolo. I want you to
take me now.

The sound of her skin being breached was surprisingly loud. Like a bee
sting, there was one moment of pain, and then euphoria traveled all over her
body. His cock inside her began to swell while the muscles in his arms and
shoulders tensed. He was trying to be gentle, but she could feel that urge to
turn their lovemaking into a blood feast. He squeezed her flesh with his
fingers, rubbing his thumbs over her afterwards to soothe the reddened skin. To
his hardness she remained soft and giving. As he squeezed, she gave even more.

Take me. All of me.

She began to get light headed and saw large black spots in front of her
eyes. The spots began to join. She lost her grip
in his hair, and, without effort, fell back amongst her pillows,
her arms raised above her head. Paolo followed her down, lapping the puncture
wounds like he had done before, and then pulled away.

She could barely see him through the slits in her eyes, which were hard
to keep open. Paolo gave her his wrist. “Drink, Bella.”

“No, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me. Drink. Drink for me.”

“I don’t want to bite you.”

He smiled. “Very well.” He placed two fingers inside her mouth and she
tried to suck on them. “Open your mouth,” he said as he pressed his lips
against hers. “Open,” he whispered.

Cara obeyed. Paolo’s tongue slid over hers, and presented a few drops of
his coppery goodness, blood that sent her ears buzzing. With his fingers, he
rimmed her lips with his blood. She licked her lips and he suckled them. He
repeated this process several times until her light-headedness subsided.

She suddenly felt like she could jump over the Golden Gate Bridge just
using her own energy. A glow emanated from her insides out.

“What is this? Is this the fating I’ve read about?” she asked him
thrilled with the way her body tingled.

“No, Carabella,” he said as he traced a finger down her chest, between
her breasts and then down to between her legs where he touched her lips and
ringed their joining spot.
 
A trace
of a smile lit up his face.

“This, Carabella, is love.”