Venice Vampyr - The Beginning (Novellas 1 - 3)

by Tina Folsom

  This was a mistake. Viola took a step back and bumped into something solid behind her. She swiveled.

  “Ciao, bella,” the handsome stranger greeted her as he swept her with an appreciative glance.

  Viola swallowed, unable to answer, the pulse at her neck beating so frantically she was sure her vein would burst and drench the man in her blood.

  Her silence didn’t seem to bother him. “I see you’re new here.” His hand came up and traced along the seam of her décolleté. Viola gasped at his boldness and pulled back.

  “I’m Salvatore. And I’m happy to spend the evening with you.”

  She took a steadying breath and gave him an assessing look. He was slightly taller than the average man. Well groomed in his dark suit and fashionable necktie, not even her mother would have any objections to him were he to come courting. But he wasn’t here to court her. Nor did she want him to.

  All she wanted was a tumble. Was he the right man for it? Would those elegant hands caress her and make her feel like a real woman, or would his touch leave her indifferent? Was her fluttering heartbeat indication of her interest in him or merely telling her she was scared of actually going through with her plan?

  She couldn’t be sure. But if she simply stood here without making a decision, she’d never attain the goal she’d set herself.

  Viola summoned her courage and forced a smile onto her lips, pushing back her rising doubts. “That would be charming.”

  Chapter Two

  Dante was furious.

  He looked at the bruises on Benedetta’s face. “How often have I told you not to go to that club?” Sure, she was only a girl who sold her father’s carvings on the street, and he was only very loosely acquainted with her, but somehow he felt protective. She was poor and so young. Every time he passed by her stand, he felt compelled to purchase one of her father’s ghastly carved figures.

  “I’m sorry,” the girl whimpered, her split lip making her speech slurred. “But business was so bad this month. We needed the money.”

  “Who did this?”

  Benedetta looked away, but Dante took her chin and made her meet his glare. She winced. “I asked who did this.”

  “Salvatore.”

  “Fuck!” Dante ran his hand through his dark hair. “Have you no sense of self-preservation? Of all people, you had to let Salvatore touch you?” He wasn’t acquainted with the man personally, but he knew he wasn’t fit company for Benedetta.

  She closed her swollen eyes. “He was the only one willing to pay.”

  “Damn it, girl. If you were my daughter, I’d lock you up at home for your stupidity. No woman in her right mind would let Salvatore touch her. Why do you think he was willing to pay for it? Everybody knows of his reputation. He loves to beat women.”

  Tears ran down Benedetta’s face. Dante pulled out a handkerchief and patted her face with it.

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, go home. I’ll buy all the carvings you have left for tonight.” Dante glanced at her cart. Tonight, the wooden figures she was selling were particularly ugly. They’d turn into firewood at his home just like all the others before them.

  Her face lit up. “Oh, thank you so much, Signore di Santori. You’re so kind.”

  Kind? It wasn’t an adjective he was often graced with. No vampire was kind, least of all he, but if Dante hated one thing, it was men who beat women. He loved women in every shape and form they came. Especially when they came—in his bed.

  He liked them even more when he fed from them.

  A woman’s blood was richer than a man’s. And it was even more intoxicating when he fed from a woman while he was fucking her into oblivion. In fact, it was his preferred way to have dinner. There was nothing kind or civilized about it. When it came down to it, he wasn’t that much better than Salvatore—a mere human—but he drew the line at hurting women.

  In fact, he lived to give them pleasure.

  His bite was painless, and his powers of suggestion made it possible for him to conceal what he did. After a night in his arms, the women he bedded didn’t remember the passionate man who’d driven them to ecstasy or the bloodthirsty and insatiable vampire who’d gorged himself on their necks.

  Dante’s anger failed to simmer down by the time he reached the club where Salvatore usually spent his evenings. He arrived spoiling for a fight. A real fight, not one where he would use his superior vampire powers to crush the human. He longed for a brawl in which he’d use his fists to pummel the man.

  He pushed inside the club, ignoring the demands of the hostess to pay the fee. He would only stay long enough to find Salvatore and beat the living daylights out of him. Make him look much worse than Benedetta did.

  Dante’s entrance and the hostess’ angry complaints behind him caused several heads to turn in his direction. He ignored them and instead scanned the room. It didn’t take long for him to spot Salvatore in one of the booths that lined the room. And Salvatore wasn’t alone. He was already working on his next unsuspecting victim.

  Dante took no notice of the other guests’ stares and marched straight toward Salvatore, stopping only a foot away. The man had his hand on the woman’s skirts and his head close to her ear, undoubtedly whispering sweet-sounding lies to her. Dante cleared his throat loudly.

  Without looking up, Salvatore tried to dismiss him. “I’m busy.”

  Dante clenched his jaw. “You won’t be for much longer.”

  The woman snapped her head to him, her eyes widening in fear. She’d clearly heard the threat in his voice. Dante ignored her and snatched Salvatore’s wrist, ripping it away from the woman’s skirts and yanking him up. Startled, Salvatore glared at him.

  “What the hell?” Salvatore’s eyes narrowed. “Get your own woman. This one’s mine.”

  “I’m not interested in your tart. I’m interested in you.”

  Salvatore tried to wrestle from the grip Dante had on his wrist but couldn’t. “Leave me alone, you fag, or I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

  “You mean the same way you beat the shit out of Benedetta?”

  At Benedetta’s name, a flash of fear crossed his face. He knew he was caught, but the bravado hadn’t left him yet. “None of your damn business.”

  “She’s a friend. So it’s my business.” Dante released the man’s wrist and swung. His fist landed in Salvatore’s face, snapping his head back in the process.

  Collective gasps went through the assembled guests. In the background, Dante could hear the hostess’ shrill voice. “Gentlemen, take your disagreement outside.”

  But it was too late for that. Salvatore had recovered from the first hit and now swung his fist at Dante, grazing his chin. Dante laughed. “That’s all you’ve got?” The human was weak. This would barely be any fun at all. No wonder the asshole liked to beat up on women since men were no match for him.

  Dante launched his fist into Salvatore’s stomach, making him double over. “Next time you decide to beat a woman, you’d better think twice.” With an uppercut to Salvatore’s chin, Dante turned. Before he could walk away, the man jumped him, slamming him to the ground.

  Inside, Dante rejoiced. Finally, the jerk was fighting back, making this a little more interesting. Jerking his elbow back, Dante jabbed him in the ribs, then rolled, throwing Salvatore off his back. Within seconds, they dealt each other blow after blow. Dante barely felt any pain, but the human winced with each hit he received.

  “Stop it! Stop beating him!” a woman’s voice came from behind him.

  Holding his victim down with one arm across his neck, Dante turned to look at the woman Salvatore had been with. She stood over him, her fists at her hips, a scowl on her face. “Signorina, you’d do well to keep out of this.”

  “I will not let you beat up my companion.”

  “Well, would you rather he beat you like he did the last woman he fucked?”

  A red blush colored her skin at his crude words. He gave her another look. Now that he perused her closely, he n
oticed something strange about her. She didn’t belong here. She wasn’t the kind of woman who frequented clubs like these. Her manners seemed refined, her dress understated yet expensive. Her face was fresh and innocent, her hair held up in a tight bun at her nape with not a single loose strand framing her elegant features.

  He inhaled her aroma. Yes, she smelled of innocence and goodness. But there was something else—something foreign that seemed to cloud her rich scent. And it made him want to protect her. And keep her close.

  Dante tried to shake off the strange sensation while his gaze lingered on her face for a few seconds longer. The most striking things about her were her eyes. Their dark chocolate brown would have looked dull on any other woman, but combined with her porcelain skin and those red lips, she looked like an enticing tableau. What was a woman like that doing in a hell like this?

  “You should leave,” he advised her and turned back to Salvatore.

  With one last blow, he knocked him unconscious. As he rose, the hostess blocked his way. “Signore, I do not tolerate this kind of behavior in my—”

  Dante held up a hand. “I’m leaving.”

  With long strides, he left the club and stepped into the cool night air.

  Chapter Three

  Viola stared at the hostess. “But you can’t throw me out. I had nothing to do with this.”

  The hostess pressed the coin back into her hand and pointed to the door. “Out.”

  Suppressing her tears of desperation, she walked outside, pulling her cloak tightly around her. If that terrible man hadn’t beaten up her companion and knocked him unconscious, she would have lost her virginity tonight. And now? She was back where she’d started. And worse: she was banned from the club. It was the only place she knew where she could find what she wanted. Where would she go now?

  Viola let out a frustrated huff and raised her head. Her gaze fell on the man who’d started the fight. He was standing a few yards away, arranging his cravat. Before she could lose her courage, she approached him.

  “That was a terrible thing you did.”

  He gave her a bemused look. “You should be grateful to me, not badgering me.”

  “Grateful? You got me thrown out of the club.”

  “As I said, you should be grateful for that. You don’t belong there. You’re an innocent.”

  Anger churned up in Viola. “I’m not an innocent,” she lied. “I’m a widow, and I’m here to find some … pleasures.” It was the same lie she’d given Salvatore, even though he hadn’t questioned her motives.

  The man arched an eyebrow and raised one side of his mouth, mocking her.

  “Now you’ve destroyed my chances of being with a man tonight.”

  The man took a step closer, his body almost touching hers. His voice was low when he replied, “And you listen to me now, woman. The man you wanted to be with tonight beats the women he beds. It’s part of what get’s him off. He’s violent, and he enjoys seeing women suffer. Was that what you were looking for?”

  Instinctively, Viola took a step back.

  Was the stranger telling the truth? Had he truly saved her from being beaten? She shook off the thought. No, the two men probably had had some prior quarrel. “No matter. Now I have to go somewhere else to find what I need.”

  “Are you crazy? Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

  “I heard you loud and clear. Now, would you please direct me to where I might find another place like this? You owe me that much.” She thrust her chin up and waited.

  The stranger shook his head. “I will do no such thing. Go home and be glad you didn’t get hurt tonight.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Fine ... Maybe somebody else can advise me.” Viola turned on her heels but before she could even take one step, a hand clasped over her forearm and pulled her back. She snapped her head back to him, surprised by his boldness, and clenched her jaw.

  “Signore, I suggest you remove your hand now.”

  He didn’t yield to her threat. “You have no idea of the dangers out there. A woman like you shouldn’t be prowling the night alone.”

  “It’s none of your business. So, unless you want to bed me yourself, let go of me.” The moment she issued her threat to him, she realized that it was exactly what she wanted. When she’d watched him beat up her companion, she’d seen the raw power in his body. But she’d also seen that he’d held back. He was much stronger than he’d let anybody see.

  And the eyes that stared at her now in disbelief were the most sensual ones she’d ever seen on a man. They were a brilliant blue, which stood out in stark contrast to his black hair. His face had sharp angles, more rugged than elegant, and his shoulders seemed to bulge from his coat. He was tall, and the thought of his touch on more intimate places excited her. Where Salvatore had been handsome, this man was beautiful.

  However, the frown on his face suggested that he had no intention of accepting her impromptu offer. Well, maybe her looks didn’t appeal to him. She tried hard not to take his reaction personally. But to realize that she couldn’t get this man to tumble her did put a chink in her carefully built armor.

  “So let me go then,” she repeated, not wanting to hear his rejection. His face had said enough. Viola jerked at her arm, trying to get him to loosen his grip on her, but he didn’t relent.

  “You want me to bed you?” he asked.

  She swallowed away her surprise at his question. Was he considering it? Her heartbeat sped up. “I’ve been a widow for a while and miss the touch of a man.”

  “Is that so?” His voice sounded as if he didn’t believe her. Was her story not good enough? She’d rehearsed it many times, and Salvatore had believed it.

  “Well, clearly, you’re not interested. So, don’t concern yourself. I’m sure I’ll find somebody.” Where and how she would accomplish this feat, she wasn’t certain.

  “Who says I’m not interested?”

  Viola looked up at his face and noticed how he let a long gaze travel down her body. She shivered and wet her lips. Yes, this man was stirring something in her. For some strange reason, he was breaking through the uncertainty she’d felt when she’d been in Salvatore’s company. Despite the sweet things Salvatore had whispered in her ear, she hadn’t warmed to him. Whereas this man—

  “There’s a place down this alley we can go to,” he suggested. “What’s your name?”

  “Signora Costa.” Her throat felt dry as sandpaper.

  “Your given name.”

  Her brain stopped working under the intense stare he gave her. “Why would you want my given name?”

  “Because I’d like to call out your given name when I thrust into you.”

  Chapter Four

  Dante let the door to the inn’s simple bedchamber shut behind him and watched as the lovely Viola took off her cloak. He hadn’t planned on ravishing anyone this evening, but he never looked a gift horse in the mouth. And Viola was more than just an unexpected treat: she intrigued him.

  What had driven her to that disreputable club? She seemed too refined, too well bred for an establishment like that. Frankly, he was extremely glad having arrived there when he did, because the more he looked at her, the more he wanted to be the one to satisfy her secret desires. The thought that she’d gone out to invite trouble sent a severe chill racing down his spine.

  Even as a young widow who knew about the pleasures of the flesh, she had no idea what dangers lurked outside. In his eyes, she was still an innocent. And he had a thing for innocent women. Just like he’d always tried to protect Benedetta, a girl of merely fifteen, he now wanted to protect this woman.

  To a certain extent, anyway. He wouldn’t hurt her, but while he was fucking her, he would also taste her. Despite the fact that he’d fed earlier in the night, he never turned down dessert. And if her blood tasted anywhere near as intoxicating as the scent of her skin promised, it would be a very sumptuous dessert indeed.

  “Well,” she said, her voice trembling in concert with her fingers. He
sensed her nervousness and assumed her late husband had been the only man who’d ever touched her. Clearly, this was difficult for her.

  Dante walked to her, tossing his coat onto a chair in midstride. “Let me help you with your dress.”

  Viola flinched when he put his hands on her shoulders. “I can do that myself,” she stammered.

  “But I would like to do it, if you’ll allow me.” He tipped her chin up with his hand and dipped his head. Her breath mingled with his, and he inhaled the scent. “I’d also like to kiss you.”

  He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers and nudged them open. Without much ado, he swept his tongue inside her mouth and issued his demand. Her answer was timid. Dante went after her tongue and growled his disapproval. If she wanted to be bedded, she sure wasn’t showing it in her reaction to him. Was he not to her liking? The thought that she might prefer Salvatore’s more elegant features to his rougher ones inflamed him.

  He ripped his mouth from hers. “Kiss me back, damn it.”

  Her eyes glittered with uncertainty.

  “Or have you changed your mind?” He would let her off the hook if she had. He wasn’t the kind of man to force a woman.

  The shake of her head was quick but determined. “No!” Just as quickly, she laced her hands around his neck and pulled him back to her.

  “That’s better,” he praised and snaked his arms around her back. “Now, let’s try that again, shall we?”

  Viola closed her eyes as if steeling herself for his onslaught. It surprised him. Did she see him as some kind of rough beast? Dante paused for a moment. She knew nothing about him but what she’d seen him do: violently beat up another man with his fists. Had that scared her?

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  Her eyes flew open. “I know.”

  This time when he kissed her, he gentled his lips against her soft mouth and tugged on her upper lip, then ran his tongue over it. Slowly, her lips parted. Dante continued nibbling on her lips until he heard a tiny moan coming from her. Now he understood: she wanted gentle and slow. That’s what she responded to. He could do that.