Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) (2 page)

Paolo lurched at
first, then settled. “I’m caught in your trap.”

She giggled.
“Quite so.”

It was a
puzzling answer, but as she ground herself against him again, he lost his sense
of time and place. The second encounter was even more fierce than the first.
Afterwards, he was still unsatisfied.

“I want you in
my bed,” she said, as if she could hear his thoughts.

“Yes,” he said
as he followed it with a thrust that had her arch up and moan with pleasure.

“You’ll have to
show me. I’ll not stop until you lead me to wherever you want me to go.”

“I will show you
everything. You will see everything.”

He became
obsessed with the idea that if he didn’t join with her again soon, he would
surely die.

They quickly
dressed. The taste of her blood was still on his tongue. He swallowed and felt
a new wave of desire coming fast. He recognized the feeling as similar to those
he’d felt others experiencing at the dance earlier.

I sensed her before I saw her.
This had
never happened to him before.

They made their
way up the abandoned cobblestoned street, to another doorway. She produced a
key and the door fell open.

“You were at the
party tonight?”

“I was. It’s
your great-great niece who’s getting married, correct?” she said as she backed
into a long hallway. Facing him, she began to step up a narrow stairway. Paolo
reached for her blouse, then his hands slipped under her skirt again.

“Yes,” he said.
“You know the bride or the groom?”

“Both.” Her
wicked smile told him perhaps she knew the groom intimately.

Should this upset me?
Paolo was confused
until he touched her again and forgot everything but the woman before him.

They had reached
the top of the stairs. A small landing came into view. At the end was a closed
door. Paolo followed her as she batted away his hand, pretending to stop his
advances. He laughed, happy with the play.

“Why is it I
cannot get enough of you?”

“I believe,
Paolo Monteleone, we might be fated.”

“Yes. Whether it
is or it isn’t, I’m going to fuck you until the sun comes up.”

“And then
again.”

“And then again.
And again.”

Paolo ignored
the cell phone messages and texts he got from other family members, mostly from
Marcus. The more he bedded the lady, the more he wanted her. On the third day,
they missed the wedding entirely. They had gotten dressed for the ceremony, but
succumbed to their passions and never made it out of the house. At last, Paolo
began to tire and his conscience began to weigh heavily. It appeared this woman
had none.

“Don’t worry, we
can see a wedding any time, especially these days. How long before you go back
to your wife?”

Paolo sat up and
looked at his clothes strewn all over the floor as if seeing them for the first
time. He hadn’t thought of his wife in three days. The reality of what he’d
done came crashing into him.

“I—I
forgot—“

“You forgot you
were married? Marcus said you love your mortal wife.”

I do, with all my heart. What have I done?
The
fog in his head began to lift. “Marcus? Marcus told you about me?”

“Of course. I
fuck him too.”

Paolo tore
himself from the bed. “What?”

She fell back
into the pillows, laughing at him. “Poor Paolo. You didn’t know you were
fucking your brother’s girlfriend—well, almost wife?”

“No! You’re
lying.”

“Why should I
lie? Come here. You know Marcus has a mole that looks like a bat here.” She
pointed to her upper thigh, and, despite the fact he should never have touched
her, certainly never should have missed the wedding to be with her, to indulge
in an orgy of carnality—in spite of all this, he became hard all over
again. But this time, Paolo’s conscience was stronger than his desire.

“You
are—?”

“Maya. My
goodness! We haven’t had a moment to introduce ourselves, have we?” Her eyes
sparkled, and in spite of his growing revulsion for his situation, he felt his
body desire her. She pulled aside the covers, revealing the rest of her naked
body, and he almost caved into his growing lust. “Now, come here and fuck me
again. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. The day you go back to
Chicago, I’ll be screwing your brother’s brains out. Not to worry. We won’t
have to speak of it again.”

“This is
impossible.” Paolo was nauseated. In his mind he replayed the last three day’s
activities and was revolted by his own actions.

God of vampires, tell me I am not fated to
my brother’s girlfriend.

And then he
thought of his wife. Paolo dressed and removed himself from the house without
speaking to her again. He transported himself to his bedroom overlooking Lake
Michigan. The one he shared with his third mortal wife.

Frances was
sleeping soundly, but startled awake when Paolo showed up at her side.

“Darling. How
was the wedding?” she whispered.

Paolo couldn’t
look at her. He got on his knees at the bedside and buried his head in his
outstretched arms. Frances laced her fingers through his hair, raising herself
up on one elbow.

“Paolo, what’s
the matter? What happened? Is the family all right?”

“Yes.” Paolo
murmured. He looked at the warm, pink, wrinkled face of his mortal wife and
smiled. “I was overcome by how much I missed you.”

Her eyes shone
back to him with such love, in that moment he felt an even deeper sense of
regret and remorse. He hoped she couldn’t see the agonizing guilt and shame
rolling inside him.

“I’m never
leaving your side again. Ever.”

“Ever for you is
a long time, Paolo.”

Did she know?
She must suspect.

“Do you regret
we never had children?” he asked. He felt moisture form in his eyes. Frances
had asked so little of him, and here he’d just spend three days of decadence,
forgetting her completely. He was totally unworthy of her shining love.

“Come here,
Paolo,” she said as she outstretched her arms to him. “Come lie with me, would
you?”

“Of course.”
Removing his shoes, he climbed into her bed with the rest of his clothes still
on. Spooning behind her, he held her shaking body.

“This, Paolo, is
all I ever wanted or needed. It is enough for me. I wish it was enough for
you.”

“Shhh. Don’t say
such things, love. You are all I need as well. Now rest a bit, then we’ll get
up and begin a new day together.”

She was warm,
and good. He buried his nose in her neck as she extended it a bit for him.

No, I will not bite you.

But, does she know?

They’d never
discussed it. Perhaps it was just a reaction to misplaced glamour. He’d never
bitten Frances, nor been tempted to. He closed his eyes and prayed he could get
rid of the images of Maya and their three day orgy.

He’d always
regretted his choice to turn. Now more than ever.

I should have stayed mortal. I should have
done what my parents did.

But all that was
too late now.

“I’m sorry,
Frances, I never gave you children.” He meant it, but the words seemed hollow,
like the insides of his chest. Frances had fallen asleep. She was sleeping next
to a cold-blooded vampire, an animal. An abomination.

By his own
choice.

Paolo refrained
from most contact with the family until after Frances passed away, six years
later. His sister called him from Tuscany a year ago to say that Marcus had at
last met his fated female, and it wasn’t Maya. But there were complications due
to the fact that Maya had borne a son six years ago, claiming it was proof of
the fating with Marcus. The family was in turmoil. The vampire council was
being pressed by Maya’s family to force Marcus into a wedding he did not want.

As much as he
hated to admit it, Paolo was certain that Maya was his fated female. He also
knew the boy must be his. He prepared to return to Italy to right the wrong
he’d created. He hoped his family, especially Marcus, and his young son they
called Lucius, would forgive him.

Paolo Monteleone swirled the black cape around his body as he checked the
guest chamber’s full-length mirror. The fabric arrived at his knees and calves
well after he stopped spinning, and then draped back away to sway a few inches
from the floor. He could see his face in the polished sheen of his shoes.. The
tux and red cummerbund, an elegant presentation, belonged to his brother,
Marcus, but it fit him perfectly. Marcus’s man had done well. The costume was a
fitting outfit for any good vampire gentleman.

It had been a year since he’d returned to Italy, repairing the damage
he’d caused his brother and his new wife. A year of learning to be a father to
his son, making amends to the other Monteleone family members who at first
didn’t trust that he wouldn’t run off again and try to live as the mortal he
wasn’t.

When Marcus and Anne graciously invited him to join them in California
wine country, Paolo immediately agreed. The change of scenery was doing him
good. Tonight he was going to attend his first party without a member of his
family.

The door burst open and Lucius, all four feet of him, raced straight for
Paolo. The boy wore his Superman cape and red boots—rain boots, to be
exact—with all the pride of the superheroes he loved to emulate.

Paolo bent over and lifted his son, pressed the flesh of this little
superhero to his chest and nuzzled just under the boy’s right ear. The fresh
smell of his mortality was the most satisfying moment of Paolo’s day.
Eventually, Lucius would have to make the choice whether to remain mortal or
become golden vampire. But not yet. Not until he was of age.

“And just where are you heading out to? Anne taking you
trick-or-treating? It’s not Halloween yet,” he murmured affectionately into the
side of the boy’s face.

Lucius drew back and his dark eyes flashed at his father, which always
managed to melt Paolo’s heart.

“I’m going with you to the party, father.” His coppery brown eyes and
pink cheeks made him look sweet despite the heavy, jagged, and uneven eye
makeup he must have applied himself.

“Lucius, you could hurt yourself putting all that kohl around your eyes.
You should have asked your aunt for help.”

“Well, Anne and Marcus…” the boy paused and blushed.
 
“They’re busy all the time.”

“Ahhhhh,” Paolo said. He envied his brother and his long-awaited fated
female and their new baby. The fact that Marcus found Anne after three hundred
years of searching meant there might still be hope for him. Not a fated female,
but someone to love and be loved in return.

A shadow suddenly covered his heart, and gave him a chill. He composed
himself and addressed his son.

“Lucius, time enough for parties when you’re older. This one is for
grownups only. Not for…”

“Kids,” Lucius finished with resignation. “But I
want
to go. You will protect me, father.”

Indeed he could. Not an hour went by when Paolo wasn’t fearful of the
fact that Lucius, still mortal, could die, and Paolo, vampire, would be left to
grieve for all eternity.

“I’m sure cook will find you something sweet in the kitchen. I think she
made a berry pie.” He winked as he set his son down, while he savored the
change in the boy’s face.

“Berry pie? Whoopee!” Lucius zipped out of the room and down the hall,
down the massive wooden staircase yelling “Berry Pie!” at the top of his lungs.
It echoed throughout the whole mansion, brightening a home that hadn’t held the
sound of a child’s voice in over a century.

Then Paolo heard the carved wooden doors to Marcus and Anne’s suite open.
Marcus, dressed in a long paisley velvet robe, ambled across the landing to
stand at his door. He was barefoot.

“That should get you the attention you deserve,” he said as he sauntered
into the room. “You’ll be fighting the ladies off you tonight, brother. A real
feeding frenzy.”

Marcus was in a jolly mood, and comfortable, even though he was probably
naked beneath his robe. At seven o’clock in the evening. After, no doubt,
making love to his beautiful wife for most of the day—between the
infant’s feedings, of course.

Paolo forced his mind out of his brother’s private bedroom activities
“Your hair.” He touched the back of his head, indicating Marcus’s bed head

Marcus patted down the errant strands and rocked back and forth in his
bare feet. “We didn’t get much sleep. The baby was up half the night last night,
and today, well...”

“No doubt harkening back to our dark vampire ancestors.”

Marcus smiled and looked at the floor like he actually believed his lie
had worked.

Paolo leaned into Marcus and whispered, “If I had a beauty like Anne, I’d
never leave my bed either. Your secret is safe with me, although I’ve heard the
staff gossip.”

“Gossip? About what?” The look of concern darkened Marcus’s eyes.

“Your prowess. They have to have heard the screams and moans. You even
wake the baby sometimes, or were you not paying attention?”

Paolo said this without an ounce of jealousy, even though his life had
been one lonely death after another, with the marriage and death of all three
of his mortal wives. Paolo never begrudged his brother’s happiness, or his
choice to mate with a vampire female. On the contrary. Hope kindled a little
bonfire in his soul.

Marcus seemed pleased that the staff had wondered about his stamina.
 
Because he and Anne could go out in the
sunlight, their family being the Golden of the vampire lineage, it required
they have two sets of staff. One for day. One for night. Though he complained of
the infant, Marcus rarely was in bed for sleep.

“Well, I’d say it’s time for you to enjoy some of the comforts of the
flesh, Paolo. And I believe you have created a most interesting net to catch
them in. Rather like bees to honey.” Marcus winked and padded back to his room.

On the way to the ball, Paolo allowed his mind to wander over recent
changes in his life. He enjoyed staying with Marcus and Anne in California, in
the legendary Sonoma County. Living in his native Italy the past year had made
him feel morose and brooding. He had often wandered the dark, cobblestoned
streets looking for something to warm his heart. But now there was Lucius to provide
warmth. His son.

During one of his brooding walks through Tuscany seven years ago, he’d
committed the ultimate sin, creating a debt for which he was now trying to
repay. Paolo remembered that night all too vividly, like it was yesterday.

In a cruel twist of fate, Anne killed Maya, a fate punishable by death.
His brother had nearly been executed by the High Council, since Marcus
attempted to take the blame and was tried and found guilty of it. Paolo managed
to save his brother’s life by admitting publically he was the boy’s father and
Maya’s fated mate. Marcus was forgiven.

But Paolo still had much to answer for. If there were a god that watched
over vampires, would he find it in his heart to grant him peace, forgiveness?
Give him a chance to make up for the mistakes he had made all those years ago?

He hoped so.

Like a dark whisper, the limo slid to the sidewalk in front of the grand
ballroom. Marcus’s driver got out, opening the rear door for Paolo. The night
was crisp and without rain. People flocked to the doors looking
 
like actors waiting to go onstage for a
performance of
Midsummer Night’s Dream
.
The grand old hotel, steeped in history from trysts of the San Francisco elite
over the past two centuries, sat stoically with its secrets amongst the bevy of
 
faeries, butterflies and
princesses. There were stewardesses and nurses so scantily clad they appeared
to have costume malfunctions. Several dark vamp women clung to men dressed as
pirates or gentlemen, astronauts and, yes, more than a few vampires. A group of
blue unisex Smurfs arrived and crowded in behind him, giggling.

Paolo was surprised that tonight, for the first time, he enjoyed
appearing as who he really was. Somehow, he was glad he had chosen to become
vampire instead of remaining mortal. He’d spent nearly three hundred years regretting
the decision to change which was made in haste when he’d seen his mortal
parents die..

He didn’t really understand why tonight was oddly different. He only knew
that his vampire skin felt like his elegant, comfortable cape. Appropriate,
dashing and fatally attractive.

Blaring music echoed through the hallway as soon as he stepped out of the
metal cage elevator. Warm brown, heavily marbled stone marked his path to the
ballroom. His pumps tapped down the stone corridor to the beat of the drums.
Music throbbed in rhythms so strong that they tickled and thudded in his chest.
His limbs felt the vibration of the beat, and his pulse quickened.

Excitement.
It had been centuries
since he’d felt this way.

He walked under blue and silver twinkle lights covering two tall tree
boughs which framed the ballroom entrance. The photographer’s flash blinded him
momentarily, but he smiled and nodded his head as he accepted a chit allowing
him to purchase the photo later. Perhaps he would. It gave him another thing to
smile about.

The heavily gilt walls and ornately carved walnut paneling of the ceiling
reminded him of some of the ballrooms in Vienna and Paris he’d seen as a youth,
when he and Marcus had danced their way through the lovelies of Europe during
the 18th and 19th centuries.

I feel at home.

His instinct was to find a dark table in a secluded corner away from
everyone else so he could scope out the crowd. Homing in on the perfect spot, a
table with only one shimmering gauze scarf next to a top hat, and the rest of
the place settings unoccupied, Paolo selected a chair several spaces over from
the party of two, brushed his cape to the side, carefully adjusted his tails,
and sat, prepared to enjoy the revelers.

Sparkle dust was in the air, tickling his nose. The amber-colored candle
on the table filled the air with the fragrance of blood oranges, Anne’s
favorite scent. He should know, he chuckled to himself, since Marcus had placed
hundreds of them throughout his villa for her.

Paolo watched faeries dance with trolls, and idly ran his gaze over a
scantily clad woman in black with huge breasts as she undulated and massaged
her body over her partner’s. There were werewolves, storm troopers, kings and
queens. Some men and women danced with partners of their own sex, some cavorted
in groups.

He removed his cape and left it dangling over his chair as he went in
search for a good glass of port. He preferred to have the enticing sweetness of
port on his breath, should he meet a lady he wanted to speak with. His fangs
craved the flesh of a mortal woman tonight.

The scent of jasmine was strong as he edged his way between the dancers
and a table filled with donuts of every size, color and confection. The
pastries were resting on a bed of candy corn and caramel popcorn. Paolo’s teeth
ached at the thought of tasting the over-sweet treats.

Lucius would have loved this.
Paolo
smiled as he mused how sick the boy would have been the next day.

Something soft bumped into his backside. Something that smelled
wonderful.

He turned and brushed intimately against a beautiful, auburn-haired woman
with green eyes, whose curves made the most of a white Renaissance gown with a
plunging neckline . Feathered wings were sewn on the back of the dress, and her
long, draping sleeves almost touched the floor when her hands were down. Everything
he’d lectured himself about not getting involved with mortal women flew away
with the blink of his eye.

Upon seeing Paolo, she raised her palms to her face and hitched her
breath, as if startled.

“Oh, my. What have we here?” she said.

To a mortal, the loud music would have made it impossible to hear what
she said. Paolo could hear every breath, every syllable rolling off her pink
tongue as clearly as if she’d whispered it in his ear. Something silky slid
down his spine as a door within him opened.

“I am a vampire, madam, at your service.” Paolo bowed and kissed her
extended fingers.

Did I make her offer her hand, or
did she volunteer it?

“But your lips are warm. That means you are an imposter.” She smiled and
the world lit up.

“I assure you, madam, I am no imposter.” He felt his groin go rigid. He
noted the blue pulsing vein at her neck quicken as her heart fluttered, sending
her scent to his waiting nostrils.

She turned and gazed over her shoulder at a young man dancing madly into
oblivion. Her partner did not notice his date had been distracted by the charms
a new dark visitor. Someone who could be dangerous to her health.

Modern men. So naïve. They let
their women wander way too much, allowing them to be gobbled up by
straycatchers…

She turned and looked up at him, as though she was expecting Paolo to say
something.

“Would you like some refreshment?” he finally asked her. His insides
began to flutter in tandem with the beating of her heart.

Her eyes took on a momentary sparkle that thrilled Paolo. She turned and
regarded her young dancing partner without much interest. Putting her hands aside
her mouth, she shouted to him, “Johnny!”

The blond dancer jerked, then broke out in a toothy grin, raising his
palms and undulating his torso in tune with the grinding music. Paolo didn’t
like the sexual sway and suggestive jest aimed at his new interest

“I’m getting something to drink,” the woman mouthed her words silently
and followed it by drinking from an imaginary glass in her right hand.

Johnny gave her the thumbs up and started to go back to his wild
gyrations, but hesitated as he looked at Paolo. A frown of worry marred his
sunny countenance