by Lynsay Sands
Shifting her attention to her ruined T-shirt, Jess pulled the ends together, and retied the knot between her breasts. She then made a hasty effort at drying her arms and legs before giving it up as too much work and simply wrapping the towel around herself sarong-style. Feeling a little more put together, Jess then turned to face the men again.
Penisocchio, she noted, had been busy while her back was turned. He’d finished drying himself, doing a much more thorough job than her, she was sure, and now had the towel wrapped around his waist. He’d also donned a tight white T-shirt, although Lean Guy still held a pair of jeans dangling from one hand. Jess supposed these were the clothes he’d been wearing before jumping in the water to save her and that he didn’t want to pull the jeans on over damp briefs. Whatever the case, there would be no more watching the bulge in his briefs grow, Jess realized, and felt a keen disappointment that made her frown.
Good Lord, she was all about the sex tonight, wasn’t she? Jess asked herself with disgust. First it was a fight to not become a vampirate’s bloodsucking whore, and now she was entirely too interested in Penisocchio’s package. What on earth was the matter with her?
“We should introduce ourselves,” Lean Guy said, his tone abrupt. When Jess turned her gaze to him, he pointed to Penisocchio and said, “That’s Raffaele.”
“Raffaele,” Jess murmured, managing a smile of greeting. It was a much nicer name than Penisocchio. Shorter too.
“This big guy is Santo.”
Jess shifted her attention to the bald man now as he offered her a nod of greeting, his face solemn. Following his example, she didn’t smile but offered a polite nod in return.
“I’m Zanipolo,” Lean Guy finished, and before she could react at all to the unusual name, he raised his eyebrows and asked, “And you are?”
“Jess,” she said quietly, and then bent to pick up the life vest she’d discarded. Clasping the bulky vest to her chest, she hesitated, and then asked, “May I use your bathroom?”
“Of course,” Raffaele said at once.
“Thanks.” Jess managed a smile and made her way on shaky feet to the small hallway between the sitting area and the suite’s entrance. As expected, there was a door on the right that led to into a full, but compact, bathroom. It was the same in the suite she and Allison shared.
Worry assailed her at the thought of her cousin. She really needed to get help for Allison and the others. As annoying as her cousin was, she couldn’t just leave her to the vampires. After she finished in the bathroom, she’d thank Raffaele and the other two men for their assistance, and then leave and head to reception to make them call in the local police.
Raffaele watched Jess disappear into the bathroom and then turned and strode quickly into the bedroom and straight to his suitcase.
“Are you sure you cannot read her thoughts?” Santo asked, following him with Zanipolo on his heels.
“Yes. I tried again when we got back here,” Raffaele admitted, digging out a pair of clean dry briefs, and then he jerked his head up and eyed his cousins with concern. “Can you two read her?”
When both men nodded, he sagged with relief and then headed for the much larger, ensuite
bathroom off the bedroom. The fact that he couldn’t read her while the other two could meant she was definitely his life mate and that she wasn’t just crazy. Those were the only two reasons an immortal couldn’t read a mortal.
Raffaele whipped off the towel he’d fastened around his waist as he entered the bathroom. He paused in the middle of the room, tossed the towel across the end of the tub, and turned back to see his cousins had followed. Raising his eyebrows, he asked, “So what happened to her? What was the boat she was on? Who were Vasco, Cristo, and Ildaria? How big a nest are we dealing with?”
When Santo glanced to Zanipolo, leaving him to explain, the younger man grimaced. “She was in the ocean a long time and spent most of it battling high waves that were tossing her around a bit,” he began carefully. “As a result, she is exhausted to the point that her thoughts are sluggish and a bit scattered.”
“How long was she out there?” Raffaele asked with a frown as he switched his wet briefs for the dry ones.
“Hours,” Zanipolo said, handing him the jeans he’d collected off the beach and brought back for him. “Since shortly after sunset, I think.”
Raffaele frowned at this news as he dragged on his pants. The sun had set before seven and it was ten thirty now. Jess had been in the water for nearly four hours. That was a long time to be struggling with waves and trying to swim to shore. It was no wonder she had lost consciousness by the time he got her out of the water. In fact, he was surprised she was already up and about. She was recovering quickly. It suggested a strong constitution, he thought as he did up his jeans.
Straightening then, Raffaele raised his eyebrows. “So? What else did you learn? Who are this Vasco, Cristo, and Ildaria you mentioned? I presume you read those names from her memory?” he added. Despite what Zani had said, Jess hadn’t mentioned the name. Before Zani could respond, he asked, “What was the ship she escaped? Some kind of dinner tour?” Even as the words left his lips, Raffaele suspected that couldn’t be the case. She was wearing swimsuit bottoms, and a torn T-shirt, not exactly dinner attire, even if that dinner was on a boat.
“It was a pirate ship.”
Raffaele stiffened, his eyes widening with disbelief. “What?”
Zanipolo shrugged helplessly. “That’s what I got from her memory. She was on a pirate ship with vampires, and Vasco, Cristo, and Ildaria were some of the crew.”
“Vampirates,” Santo growled.
“Vampirates?” Raffaele echoed with amazement.
“Her name for them in her head when she thinks of them,” Zanipolo explained. “But appropriate from the few memories I saw,” he assured him, and then added dryly, “She appears to have a penchant for nicknames. For instance, until I told her your proper name, she was thinking of you as Penisocchio.”
“What?” Raffaele gasped with shock.
Zanipolo nodded. “That’s why I told her your name was Raffaele when I did. I was finding it difficult not to burst out laughing every time she thought the name,” he explained, and then taunted, “But again, the nickname was appropriate.”
Raffaele closed his eyes briefly. He didn’t need to ask why Zanipolo thought the nickname appropriate. The minute he’d set Jess down on the couch and stepped back to look her over in her skimpy outfit he’d started to develop an erection. Her gaze sliding over his body hadn’t helped the situation much either. Just recalling it made him start to harden again. Mouth tightening, he opened his eyes, and raised his eyebrows.
Zanipolo grimaced. “Like I said, her thoughts are a bit scattered, but from what I could sort out, it looked like they went to the Seaquarium—”
“Some of the people on the beach had gone there. What is it?” Raffaele asked.
“You didn’t even look at the pamphlets I gave you, did you?” Zanipolo asked with disgust.
“I looked at some, but there were a lot of pamphlets,” Raffaele said defensively.
“Well, you can look up what it is later, because that’s not the important part. It’s when the boat that took them to the Seaquarium got back that matters. That’s when the pirates, or vampirates as she thinks of them, approached the returning guests. They lured a bunch of them to their sloop with some story of feeding the sharks, including her cousin Allison. Allison in turn dragged Jess along.”
“But they weren’t feeding finned sharks,” Raffaele guessed grimly.
Zanipolo shook his head. “Jess apparently happened on one of the rogues starting early on a guest.” He grimaced with distaste at the memory. “It was pretty bad.”
“Gruesome,” Santo added.
“Yeah.” Zanipolo shook his head as if trying to shake the memory away, and then continued. “The rogue she interrupted was Ildaria. She took control of Jess and sent her to kiss someone named Vasco, who I think was the ship’s cap
tain, so maybe the head rogue.”
“Kiss him?” Raffaele asked with a start, his mouth turning down at this news.
“That’s what I got,” Zanipolo said apologetically. “But like I said, it all gets a bit scattered once she walked in on the rogue chewing on some guy named Tyler. She was kind of traumatized at seeing that. Hell, I was traumatized seeing it secondhand.”
“Yes.” Santo nodded. “Very traumatizing.”
Raffaele’s mouth tightened, but he nodded. “Okay, so the rogue sent her to kiss the captain and then what?”
Zanipolo shifted, looking reluctant to continue, but then sighed and said, “It got a bit heated, and then the cousin attacked them, I think.”
“Yes,” Santo agreed.
“And then the captain took both women down to his cabin.”
Raffaele stiffened, alarm coursing down his back. “Did he bite her?”
“No,” Zanipolo said at once. “No, I don’t think he did that.”
Raffaele’s eyes narrowed. “Did he rape her?”
“No,” Santo assured him.
“She escaped before things went that far,” Zanipolo added.
“That far?” Raffaele echoed. “How far did things go?”
Zanipolo hesitated, and then glanced to Santo. The bigger man was opening his mouth to answer that question when the sound of a door closing had all of them glancing toward the sitting room.
“Jess must be out of the bathroom,” Raffaele muttered, and led the other two men back out to the sitting room, only to find it empty.
“She’s gone,” Zanipolo said with surprise, staring at the open bathroom door.
It was Santo who spotted the note on the coffee table and picked it up. Moving to his side, Raffaele looked down at it. It was on the resort notepad that had been sitting on one of the end tables earlier with a pen with the resort’s logo lying next to it. He had noticed it when they first arrived. Apparently, not finding them in the sitting room when she’d finished in the bathroom, Jess had decided to leave rather than wait to find out where they’d gone. She’d left a nice thank-you note, though, he thought as he read it.
Hey, guys!
Thank you for all your help.
I have to go have the front desk call the authorities to help my friends.
I’ll return your towel as soon as I can.
Thanks again,
Jess
“If she tells anyone there are vampires out there—” Santo began in a concerned rumble that died when Raffaele cursed and hurried for the door.
Clutching the still-damp life vest with one hand, and the front of the towel with her other to be sure it didn’t slip apart, Jess hurried to the stairs and jogged lightly down them. She thought she heard a door close as she turned the first bend and started down the next flight, but didn’t slow or stop to see if it might be Raffaele or one of the other men looking for her. She didn’t have time to explain things to them. That was why she’d simply scribbled a note and left when she stepped out of the bathroom to find the sitting room empty. She’d known they’d want her to tell them how she’d wound up floating around in the ocean, and that was a long conversation, and one Jess wasn’t even sure she should have . . . with anyone. They’d think she was nuts.
The thought made Jess frown. She still wasn’t sure what she was going to say to the authorities to get them to call in the coast guard and go after the pirate ship, but was hoping something would come to mind before she reached the hotel lobby.
The sound of feet pounding down the stairs above her made her heart jump suddenly. Intellectually, Jess knew it was probably one of the men, or all of them, simply looking to help her. But her body responded with the panic of a rabbit being chased by a fox, and despite the fact that every muscle in her body was still weak and rubbery from her marathon swim, Jess broke into a run as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
There were two routes to the hotel lobby. The inner path alongside the system of pools that filled the center of the resort, and the outer path that ran between the buildings and the tropical forest that surrounded three sides of the resort. Jess chose the outer route. It was a sloping path the staff used to push carts and luggage carriers down and was longer, but the inner path finished with a set of a good thirty steps leading up to the lobby. Jess just didn’t think she had the strength and energy needed to manage the steps.
She was halfway up the sloping lane and breathing heavily when Jess realized she could no longer hear the pounding of feet behind her. Whoever had been on the stairs hadn’t come this way, she realized with relief, and allowed herself to slow, but only a little. It was dark on the path and she was a woman alone in a world that apparently had more dangers than she’d ever imagined, so she continued at a fast jog. But the rush of adrenaline that had sent her running out of the stairwell in the first place was quickly draining away, leaving her weak, shaky, and feeling like she was on the verge of hyperventilating. The combination forced her to slow to a walk. Even so, Jess was gasping for breath when she rounded the curve at the top of the hill and bumped into someone.
“Sorry,” she wheezed, pressing a hand to the stitch that had developed in her side. Jess was so exhausted that she didn’t even look up to see who she’d bumped into, but simply stepped to the side. The front entrance of the lobby was just steps away now. She could make it.
“Wait. Jess?”
A hand caught her arm as she continued forward, and Jess paused and swung back, her eyes widening as she recognized Raffaele in the lights from the porte cochere where vehicles picked up and dropped off hotel guests. It must have been him on the stairs, and he’d obviously taken the shorter, inner path and beat her up here.
“Oh, hi,” Jess puffed weakly, her gaze drifting toward the hotel entry. Noting the bus parked in front of the doors, she frowned slightly. It was late for a tour to be returning, she thought as she watched the people file off the bus. All were laughing and chattering as they disembarked.
“Jess?” Raffaele said again.
“Hmm?” she murmured, her gaze narrowing on the growing group ahead, gathering in front of the lobby doors. A couple of the people looked familiar.
“I know you want to call the authorities and get help for your friend.”
“Allison,” Jess breathed as she spotted her cousin in the group.
“Yes, for your friend Allison,” he agreed, but Jess wasn’t listening anymore.
She tugged her arm free, dropped the life jacket she’d been clutching since leaving the room, and rushed forward, calling, “Allison!”
Her cousin turned to glance her way at the call, but so did the others and Jess’s eyes widened as she recognized Tyler and several other people from the pirate ship. Dear God, they were all here and all alive and well, she thought, almost faint with relief.
“Jessica!” Allison snapped when Jess reached her and tried to give her a relieved hug. “Get off me! God, it’s bad enough you left me to go on the shark-feeding tour alone, don’t—”
“What?” Jess asked with shock, stepping back to stare at her.
“You heard me.” Allison scowled at her briefly, but then a smile suddenly plucked at her lips and she added with satisfaction, “Your loss in the end. We had a blast. Didn’t we, Tyler?”
Tyler had been standing back, waiting for Allison while everyone else slowly moved through the hotel doors and into the lobby in small, laughing, and chattering groups, but now he stepped forward and smiled at Jess. “She’s right. It was a great time. You should have come.”
Jess gaped at the pair of them, unable to believe what she was hearing.
“Vasco will be pleased to learn you are alive and well, little dove.”
Jess froze at that voice with its strange accent, and then turned warily to see Cristo stepping down from the bus.
“He was crushed when he found you missing,” Cristo said, his expression and tone reprimanding. “We searched the ship from top to bottom three times before he would admit you must have jumped
overboard rather than be with him. By then, we were sure you must have drowned.” Eyes narrowing, he said, “The waters were rough and we were far out to sea—how did you survive and make it ashore?”
Jess glanced instinctively down at her hand, but she was no longer clutching the life jacket.
“Ah,” Cristo said with understanding. “Clever lady. You stole a life jacket and escaped through the porthole.”
Jess jerked her head up sharply at the words. He’d obviously read her mind, which reminded her that these creatures could do things humans couldn’t. Like control them.
“Aye, we can,” Cristo said with a smile. “And now I think you should get on the bus. The tourists are all off, and Vasco will be pleased to have you back. He is looking forward to enjoying your . . . company,” he said with a suggestive wink.
Jess didn’t want to get on the bus, and she tried not to, but she was no longer in control. Cristo was. Only it felt different than when Ildaria had taken control of her. Then, Jess hadn’t really realized she’d been under someone’s control until after. Her only thought had been that she must go to Vasco and kiss him, as if her thoughts were not her own. Now, her thoughts were her own, and it was her body betraying her and moving toward the bus against her will.
“I think not.” Those words were spoken in a cold, hard voice as a hand closed around Jess’s upper arm, drawing her to a halt.
Turning her head, Jess peered at Raffaele with surprise, relief, and concern. She hadn’t realized he’d followed her to her cousin, and she was grateful for the intervention, but also worried that Cristo would just take control of him too.
“I believe this is yours.” Raffaele shoved the lost life jacket at the pirate even as he drew Jess back so that she stood a step behind and to the side of him. “I suggest you take it and go, or you’ll force me to do something in front of all these witnesses that we may both regret.”
