All Souls’ Night: A Midnight Doms Boxset

by Renee Rose

  The drive back to his place is as silent as the drive to the club, only this time, there’s no excitement. More dread fills me the closer we get. What am I going to do now? I can’t go back to my normal life after this. I have to convince him to turn me. To keep me. There’s got to be some way.

  Once we arrive, he opens the door, ever the gentleman, and takes my hand to lead me back to his room. Instead of going to my bedroom or even the sitting area, we head to the dining room.

  “Give me just a few minutes,” he says.

  He disappears into the kitchen, leaving me with my myriad of thoughts. I try to clear my mind and come up with rational arguments, but nothing else except my libido is coming up with anything.

  “I hope you’re hungry. I’m not sure what you like, but I brought the most normal dishes I have.”

  “Normal?” The smells wafting from his plate are divine. My stomach starts growling and I curl my arms around me, trying to quiet the noise.

  “It’s no use. I already heard it,” he says.

  He places the plate in front of me, and takes his glass filled with a dark, thick liquid to the chair at the opposite side of the table. The dish doesn’t look familiar, but I can at least recognize what looks like mashed potatoes, some form of meat, and an odd vegetable. I poke at it a bit, trying to figure out what to tackle first. Mashed potatoes win out, and I slide a forkful into my mouth.

  “Dear god, this is good! How in the hell did you improve on freaking mashed potatoes?”

  He chuckles as he sips his drink. “I told you, I am a chef. What did you expect? Everything I make, even if it’s only me eating it, is prepared like I would do it in my restaurant. But I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It actually warms my heart when people enjoy my food.”

  I slide the plate in front of me and rest my elbows on the table. Damiano gives me a pointed look but remains silent. “Look. About tonight. Does it really have to end here? I mean, what’s wrong with continuing on for a little bit and seeing where this leads us?” I say.

  His eyes are sympathetic as he shakes his head. “No, cara. I told you, this was only for tonight. Nothing can continue after this.”

  “But why? You still haven’t given me a reason.”

  Sighing, he sets the glass down and stares at me for a second. “A vampire cannot fully co-exist with a human. You are way too fragile.”

  “Okay, but you could turn me, and then I’ll be as durable as you.”

  His face pulls up into a grimace. “No, cara. I cannot turn you.”

  An ache starts in my stomach. He doesn’t want me. “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “If you’re making me choose, then won’t. I’m through having this conversation with you. We had a deal. Tonight is your one and only. I held up my end of the bargain, did I not? You had an amazing time tonight, didn’t you?”

  Tears pool in my eyes, and I try to blink them away. The fairytale is crumbling around me even as I try hopelessly to keep stacking up the bricks. “Yes, I did, but didn’t you? You act as if this was nothing. Just a day in the life of Damiano. Didn’t this mean anything?”

  “Yes, it meant something. You’ve stirred things in me that I thought were long dead. But we can’t do this. We can’t continue on. You’re just too damned fragile!”

  He drains the rest of the glass in a gulp and looks at me, his eyes wide and feral. It should scare me. I should be running away screaming, but I’m not. Instead, I’m inexplicably drawn to this man, this vampire, who captured my heart. I make my way over to him and kneel at his feet.

  “Please,” I whisper, clutching his knee. “Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll let you do anything. Just don’t throw me out. Please. I have nowhere else to go.”

  Damiano stands and brushes me aside as if I’m no more than lint. “You have a room for tonight. I suggest you rest for a bit and go to sleep. Tomorrow night, we’ll figure out where you can go.”

  Standing, I start to reach out for him, only to put my hands back by my sides. He doesn’t want me. For the first time, I felt like I had finally found my family, my tribe, but no. I truly don’t belong anywhere. Whirling around, I race off to the room I slept in the night before. I have to get there before my heart shatters in front of him.

  Chapter 8

  Everything inside me cries out to gather Dahlia in my arms. I know she’s hurting. I don’t have to be otherworldly to figure that out. But it has to be done. Our worlds just don’t mix. Pain zips through my heart as her teary eyes—Alessandra’s teary eyes—look up at me. But I can’t do this. I can’t lose someone else. If not for those monks, who knows how many people I would have killed? If I lose control again, how many people will be at risk?

  It’s not worth it. She’s not worth it. But, as much as I tell myself that, my heart doesn’t want to believe it. I want nothing more than to fall into bed with her and hold her close until the dawn. She’s the perfect little spitfire to keep me happy and entertained for centuries, but I can’t risk it. And I can’t lose Alessandra.

  I sit for a moment and close my eyes, conjuring up Alessandra’s alluring eyes and quick smile. My favorite moment passes through my memory: her in my mother’s kitchen, flour dusting her nose as she tried to cook for me. The burnt mess near the fire, her trembling smile as she tried to apologize. My gut clenches. Gods, how I miss her.

  And jumping into a relationship with a woman who has her eyes is not the way to show Alessandra honor. Fists clenched, I storm out of the room. I need air that isn’t laden with Dahlia’s scent. I need some space to think. As I pass by her room, her sobs reach my ears. Again, I feel the intense need to be by her side. How I wish I could just reconcile this, but there’s nothing to be done.

  I make my way out of the hotel and just walk, my feet carrying me anywhere and nowhere. Remnants of the All Souls’ Night parade litter the ground, and I absently kick through the debris with my feet. Before I know it, St. Augustine’s Cathedral looms in front of me, its massive edifice gleaming in the moonlight. How long has it been since I’ve lit a candle for my beloved?

  Guilt swamps me for a moment, and I stand there, unable to move, unable to think. All I can do is feel pain and sorrow, as strong now as it was back then. Heading into a side door, I pass by the pews. It’s surprisingly deserted. Of all days, surely this would be the one to remember past loved ones?

  Shafts of color from the stained glass illuminate the building, turning docile frescos into hellacious scenes, each one bathed in varying shades of red. Looking up at the large Christ, I instinctively cross myself. I may not have a soul anymore, but I don’t want to hinder my beloved finding peace.

  Several candles which are already lit illuminate the small corner. Shuffling over, I grab one of the lighting sticks and touch it to the main flame before dipping it down into the votive. The ache in my gut grows even stronger as the wick catches and burns brightly into the darkness.

  I cross myself and kneel before starting my prayer. “Eternal rest give to them, O Lord. And let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.” After repeating this two more times, I cross myself again and stand. A heavy feeling descends over me. What would Alessandra say if she could see me now?

  Looking up at the ceiling, I call out to her. Maybe tonight, of all nights, she can hear me. “Alessandra, my love. Give me a sign. Tell me you’re okay. Tell me what to do.”

  Nothing. But what did I expect? Her to come out of her grave and tell me to take this tiny mortal? Wouldn’t that be rich.

  Closing my eyes, I try to swallow the grief threatening to consume me. There’s room for two, you know. Bentley’s words flit through my mind. Is there, though? Do people really get the chance to have two loves?

  Lost in my thoughts, I leave the church and head back to the hotel. Dawn is soon approaching, and getting burned wouldn’t help anyone. As I ease quietly back into the main room, I listen out for Dahlia. Thankfully, she’s no longer crying. Soft snores reach me as I pad over to her room.

  Openin
g the door, I take in her tear-stained face. Another knife twist hits my gut. Dahlia deserves a man who’s whole, not one who’s broken and shattered like me. She also deserves someone alive, I think wryly, easing her door shut. With a sigh, I make my way back to my room and prepare for sleep.

  Acrid smoke reaches my senses as I wake up. For a brief moment, panic for Dahlia grips me, but I hear her muttered curses. She doesn’t sound like she’s in distress. Either way, I throw on my clothes much faster than normal, and make my way towards the smell of the smoke. There’s Dahlia, standing in front of the stove. A burnt mass of goo sits on one of the right hand burners. There’s not even enough left to tell what she was even trying to make.

  Soft sobs prick my ears, and I make my way over to her. Hopefully, she isn’t hurt. As I turn her around, my heart jumps into my throat. There she is, her eyes the exact same shade as Alessandra’s, a smattering of flour dusting her nose. I blink several times, trying to separate my memories from the reality standing before me.

  “I tried to make you breakfast. I really don’t know what happened. Nothing went right, but I followed the recipe. I just don’t understand,” Dahlia whispers, turning back to the mass. “I just thought if I tried to be what you wanted, the perfect submissive, you’d want to keep me.”

  Her voice is so quiet that even I have trouble hearing her. Turning her back to me, I tuck her hair behind her ear. With a soft smile, I brush the flour off her nose before planting a kiss on her forehead.

  “And what exactly do you know about being a perfect submissive? Better yet, what makes you think you know what I want in a submissive?”

  She shrugs, and a faint tinge of red stains her cheeks. “Google is a good thing. When I woke up this morning, I was determined to learn all I could about your lifestyle. It mentioned being of service.” She motions to the mess behind her. “We can see how well that went. I just thought if I could serve you, you’d see that I could learn, and be willing to keep me.”

  I pull back from her and cross my arms. “Ahh. You want me to turn you. That’s what all this is about.” Truth be told, knowing that she wants some fantasized notion of immortality and not me stings a bit. When I saw the flour on her nose, I thought maybe Alessandra was giving me a sign, but what type of sign would that be if the woman in question doesn’t want me? “Any vampire can turn you. In fact, I can call a few up and let you take your pick.”

  Her hand flies up to mine as I reach for my phone. Her tears glisten as she looks up at me, earnestly. “Look, it’s not your immortality. Though, yes, I’m not going to lie, I’ve dreamt about being a vampire since I was a little girl. But none of that matters if I’m not with you. There’s something about you that calls to me. Even when we were playing with Adrian, he didn’t stir me. You do. And if having you means never being a vampire, then so be it. I’ll give that up.” She pauses for a moment and slides her tongue over her fangs. “Just as long as I get to keep these. That way, I still have a little bit of my dream.”

  My cock swells as I watch her tongue, wishing it was swirling around something else at the moment. Clearing my throat, I try to shove away my thoughts. This is a serious moment, and I owe it to Dahlia to stay present. “What were you trying to make?”

  She shuffles over to the one clean kitchen counter, and my heart stutters. I know those papers. My mother’s writing, slightly faded with age, sits there in front of me. The recipes that I grew up with—they are all there.

  “I wanted to try one of your fancier meals, so I looked around the kitchen. I found these in a binder, and thought this one looked the easiest.”

  The tight band around my heart loosens just a smidge as I take the paper from her. Right there in front of me is the recipe from my memory. The same one Alessandra burned trying to make for me. I look at the ceiling for a moment, a huge grin crossing my face. If this isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is. It feels right. I don’t know how, but suddenly, it seems like everything is going to be okay.

  I reach out and dust the one last speck of flour off Dahlia’s face, my emotions riotous within me. How do I know for sure? How can I convince the guilt that has been my constant companion for centuries? Dahlia shuffles the papers, trying to put them back into order, and a tiny scrap comes loose and floats to the floor. I bend over to pick it up and immediately recognize Alessandra’s handwriting.

  Scegli l’amore. Choose love. Gobsmacked, I stand there for several moments. There’s no mistaking her writing. Even her small doodles around the edges are none other than hers. The pain swamps me for a moment, but then starts to ebb away. I keep staring at the words, repeating them in my head over and over again. Choose love. Looking back at the precious mortal in front of me, I scoop her up into my arms. Who am I to deny my beloved’s wish?

  “How do you feel about New York?”

  She looks up at me, her brows furrowing. “Like in general, or…”

  “I mean like living there.”

  Her eyes dart back down to the floor. “I mean, it’s on the list, but I’d have to hitchhike a bit.”

  “What if I took you there?” I can’t contain the smile on my face. For the first time in centuries, I feel free. I just want to shower this woman with all the love I still have in me, and I can just feel it bursting at the seams. Choose love. I’m not sure what we share is a deep love yet, but Dahlia is the only one I want to explore these feelings with.

  She’s mine. The beast in me roars to life, confirming what I already knew. There’s no way I can let her go. She already means more to me than even I realized at first. I was too stupid to see it.

  “Let me guess. It’s a one night thing?” Her tone is light, but her eyes are sad and heavy.

  Setting her back down, I race to my room to get the collar from last night. I pause for a moment, feeling the weight of the metal in my hand. It seems so impersonal to give her the same collar I was using for play. That, and it’s so impractical. I plan to devour her every night for the rest of her life. Something this ornate would just get in the way. But for now, it will have to do. Besides, I would love to show her off in it when we go back to other clubs. Pulling out my phone, I shoot a quick message to Bentley. He might as well charge me for it because it’s not going anywhere. I also ask him for something else, another small favor.

  Collar in hand, I make my way back into the kitchen. Dahlia’s trying so hard to scrub the burnt mess that’s just adhered itself to the metal. Chuckling, I reach over, pluck it from her fingers, and toss the whole thing in the trash.

  “But I—”

  “Listen, belissima. I know we don’t know much about each other, but I would love to spend eternity getting to know everything about you. If you’ll have me.”

  Her eyes grow large. “Are you serious? What happened to one and done?”

  I take the collar and clasp it around her neck before following the longest strand with my finger. She shivers as I stroke the soft skin underneath. “I was a fool to ever think I could be finished with you.”

  With a growl, I descend upon my little morsel, my tongue sliding past her lips and dipping into her mouth. Groaning, I pull her closer, deepening the kiss. How did I ever think I could send her away? We stay there, locked in our embrace, for what feels like an eternity. Time stops completely as her tongue intertwines with mine. Groaning, I tilt her head back to deepen the kiss. I pull her in closer, grinding against her, easing some of the tension pulsing through me.

  Her hands fist into my hair, her body quivering with need. In a swift motion, I pull her up into my arms, letting her legs wrap around my hips. The heat from her core scalds me, ramping up my desire even more. As I set her up onto the counter, the doorbell rings. Pulling away, I stare down at her, both of us gasping for breath. As much as I love Bentley for helping me right now, I could certainly kill him for the interruption. Dahlia looks up at me, her lips swollen, pupils dilated and wide with need. My minx will have to wait just a bit longer. I yank her down from the counter and drag her into the sitting room. �
�Wait here.” She gives a quiet whimper but, as much as I want to continue, there are other matters that have to be attended to first. Bopping her nose with my finger, I give her one more quick kiss. “I’ll make it worth it. I promise.”

  I fling the door open, and usher Bentley inside. His huge grin tells me he already knows everything. But I don’t care. Everyone will probably know soon enough. “You’ve found room for both?” he asks.

  “Let’s just say I found a way to let go.”

  “My congratulations. Just be lucky I have such an extensive stock.” I reach for my wallet, but he holds out his hand and shakes his head. “Today is a day for love. Come by my office tomorrow, and we’ll settle then.”

  Nodding my thanks, I take my packages and hurry back to Dahlia’s side, slipping the small ring box into my pocket. That one will be for much later. She’s sitting on the couch, her whole body a bundle of nerves. I can’t wait to whisk her off into my bed and help her expend that energy. But, first things first.

  “I want to make this official. Kneel before me,” I order her.

  She doesn’t argue, but instead eases herself off the couch and sinks down in front of me. Pulling out the bigger box, I set my other package down and hand her the empty one. I reach around, undo her current collar, and place it into that box.

  “I want to keep this collar because you look absolutely delectable in it. However,” I take the box from her and set it on the couch, “if we’re going to begin our life together, I want us to have something that’s made just for us.” The other box contains a simple, solid collar with a heart hanging from the O-ring.

  “Scegli l’amore?” she says.

  I chuckle at her pronunciation. “We will have to work on your Italian, but it means choose love.” Slipping it around her neck, I finger the heart for a moment, my own swelling with happiness. “Will you wear this collar, and bind yourself to me for all eternity?”