“Shifters?” I asked and cut my questioning eyes to Slade.
“Shapeshifters, love. Intermingling of species is forbidden,” he explained.
I realized there is so much I don’t know about this magical world. So many powers to discover and develop. There are so many answers to find, yet I don’t even know what the correct questions are to ask. When I looked up at Castel, I knew he’d read my thoughts from his perceptive smile. He placed his hand on my shoulder as a sign of support.
“Slade and Alea, you both have to stop fighting the maestro rosso inside you to let it live and breathe. The more you use it, the stronger it’ll become. You have no reason to fear it, my children. Embrace it, nurture it, and allow it to teach you powers you’ve never even dreamed of. I promise, you won’t regret it.” He smiled warmly and knowingly when he finished speaking. Then his eyes glowed bright red right before he disappeared as quickly as he’d first appeared.
I turned to Slade and linked my fingers with his. “He is wonderful, Slade. It would be amazing to take him up on his offer to visit his village in Italy.”
“For you, anything.”
“About what he said just before he disappeared. I have an idea that may make it easier on us both to release control and free the maestro rosso in both of us.” I couldn’t help but smile as the idea formed in my mind.
“Do go on.” The sexy timbre of his voice and the seductive shimmer in his gaze said he knew what I was about to suggest.
“The first one to suppress the red glow becomes the other’s sex slave for the next month.”
“I’m thrilled with the initiative you’re taking, but I don’t see a loser in this wager.” His eyes instantly changed to red, his voice became deeper, and I felt his hands groping my body, but he didn’t move a finger. “All of this already belongs to me.”
Not to be outdone, I matched his fervor with my own move. With my mind and body relaxed, I let go of the control I thought I had and turned it over to the red master inside. When Slade felt the warmth of my mouth wrap around the head of his cock, his head dropped back, his eyes closed, and his moans urged me to continue.
In a flash, I was in his arms, and we instantly transported to the privacy of our bedroom. He murmured in my ear, his voice gravelly and thick with desire. “Now I want to feel you suck me off for real this time.”
“My pleasure, il mio maestro rosso. Il mio amore immortale.”
My red master. My immortal love.
“You’re already learning to speak Italian. I have to say, hearing that from your mouth is so damn sexy. Although, it’s still not nearly as sexy as the other talents your mouth has.”
With a lascivious smile, I dropped to my knees in front of him, relieved him of his trousers, then completely relieved him. He was more than ready for me as I licked the tip of his cock, spreading the bead of moisture around the rim. My mouth watered from just thinking about what more was to come. Without warning, I took as much of his length as I could in me until the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat. His resulting moan and the way he gripped my hair spurred my enthusiasm. I increased my speed and my grasp, his hips met my surges in a perfect rhythm until I felt the warmth of his release in my mouth ebb.
“You are so fucking perfect.” With swift moves, he whisked me up from the floor and pushed my back against the wall. “Now it’s my turn. Or rather, your turn.” His sexy smirk was in place while he removed my clothes and licked his way down my body. He started with my breasts, slid his tongue down my stomach, and stopped at my already swollen clit. “Hold on tight, baby. I’m hungry enough to eat all night.”
Chapter 15
Slade Barnett, 1791
I think the only thing more concerning than Ramses starting a clan war is Ramses being completely silent. Since the night he sprinted away from Castel and me, he has remained secluded in his mountain hideaway. We’ve both kept tabs on him and his activities. Castel reappears when he’s able to leave his home in Sardinia, though he doesn’t tell Ramses he’s there. I vaporize in and out in much the same manner, but for very different reasons.
I’m not as concerned with Ramses’s well-being as Castel is. I still want him dead. When I check on him, it’s because I’m focused on his actions. From what I’ve seen, not much has changed, except he has kept his business private rather than flaunting his indiscretions with pride. I would say my hope is he learned a lesson after all the trouble he caused, but then he’ll simply disappoint me again. Some things never change. Some people refuse to change.
There have been so many times I’ve stood directly beside him, my silver blade firmly held in my grasp. The visions of all his infractions against me clear in my mind. The deep need for retribution damn near consuming me. Yet I’ve shown considerable restraint, all in the name of keeping the peace between us for Castel’s sake. Out of deference and love for the man who became our father when we lost our parents, I’ve allowed Ramses to live against every fiber in my body telling me otherwise.
While I’d prefer to monitor him from afar, neither Castel nor I can use our powers to see or hear what he’s doing. We’ve concluded Ramses has vampires in his immediate circle who have developed a talent for hiding his secrets from us. His own personal bodyguards, so to speak, who have no idea how ineffective they’d be should I decide to terminate their employment. It’s these thoughts that stoked the fire of my wrath. When I was close to giving in to my rage, I came home to my wife, and just one look at her calmed the erupting volcano inside me.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asked.
“The real question is how can I not stare you?”
“Would you like to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“You know me inside and out,” I remarked. “But no, I don’t want to talk about it. You are my escape from everything that bothers me.”
Her responding nod confirmed she understood what I meant. The mood instantly lightened as she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.
“You need to feed, my love,” she urged. “I’d say you’ve missed a meal or two from the pallor of your skin. Shall we go out to eat tonight?”
“You must have read my mind,” I quipped. “Lady’s choice tonight.”
We left the house on the prowl for our next meal with my wife in the lead. The opera had just concluded, and many of the old English money-holders emerged. Alea turned to me and smiled deviously. I burst out laughing at the irony she conveyed wordlessly.
“Blue bloods? Perfect choice, my love.” I kissed her on the cheek. “Enjoy your meal.”
We each chose our prey and employed our hunting tactics. My victim was a lady of noble descent. I knew this mainly because she made it a point to tell everyone within earshot. Her pride and pompous attitude made her even more repulsive to me. The scent of her blood increased my hunger—and my ferocity.
“Darling, walk me home. It’s not appropriate for a true Lady to wander about without being accompanied by a gentleman,” she insisted.
The young man she spoke to was visibly hesitant to oblige her. She was insistent and obnoxious. He searched for a polite way to excuse himself and get out of his predicament.
“I do wish I could be of assistance to you, my dear. But I have already promised another I’d escort her home.”
With that, he joined another group of people and was blatant in his actions to be seen with a young woman on his arm. The group disappeared around the corner of the block, leaving Miss Lady Blue Blood all alone. Most of the opera-goers dissipated into carriages or walked the few blocks to their brownstones.
“What is a beautiful lady like yourself doing walking alone?” I asked pointedly, pouring salt into her open wound under the guise of a veiled compliment. “That should be considered a crime.”
“I’m afraid my male companion had an urgent matter arise. I insisted he leave the opera early to attend to his sick mother.”
“That’s very gracious of you. May I escort you home in his stead?” I extended the crook
of my arm for her, and she readily accepted.
“You’re quite the gentleman. That’s a quality which is, unfortunately, becoming harder to find in men of late.”
Two blocks later, she was still talking about the decline in manners and decorum at court, how her family was close to the royal family, and how any man would be more than fortunate to marry her. On the quiet, dark sidewalk, I decided I’d heard enough, and she’d run out of time. While she was so self-absorbed with her high-level connections, I extended my fangs and clamped down on her neck. My hand covered her mouth to muffle her scream.
Her cry was short-lived, as was she since I was hungrier than I’d realized. I drained her blood in record time and disposed of her body far away from the city and the people. When I returned, a drunk man, stumbling as he walked and holding on to the buildings to keep him upright, became my next victim. My dessert, as it turned out. The alcohol sweetened his blood just enough to satisfy my appetite.
On my way back to find Alea, I sensed a presence I hadn’t felt in many years. Living as and mingling with humans as long as I have, I’ve done my best to blend in and not call attention to what I really am. But this presence is actively looking for me. Searching for me since he first suspected me nearly a decade ago.
On one of my travels, I visited Spain, looking for new hunting grounds and new blood to add to my palate. I was in no hurry to feed when I arrived in the country. The culture was vastly different from what I’d grown accustomed to in London. Strolling through the streets of Madrid on summer’s eve, a group of girls approached me from the opposite direction. They were absolutely stunning—every one of them. They were all close in age, but only a year or two separated each of them in a stair-step manner.
Sisters. From oldest to youngest, the five young ladies’ ages spanned from twenty-two to sixteen years old. The younger ones giggled when they looked at me, but the oldest was clearly as taken with me as I was with her.
“Hello, lovely young ladies.” I tipped my hat and gave them my best smile.
“Hello, sir,” the oldest, Daniela, replied. “You flatter us.”
“You deserve to be flattered.” I lifted her hand and pressed my lips against the back of her palm. The scent of her blood was pleasant and calming. Her skin smelled of lavender, a floral and sweet aromatic fragrance I can still smell today.
Daniela and I became fast friends while I was on holiday in Madrid. She introduced me to her father, a local farmer from the outskirts of the city, and I instantly liked him. He was a tall, robust man who’d never met a stranger in his life. He was welcoming and inviting to anyone who entered his home.
For the most part, I’d eliminated my human reactions and feelings, but her father’s open acceptance touched a small part of me where human fondness had found a place to hide. Before I left the area, I set the family up with a farming contract to supply a produce seller in Madrid for many years to come. The payments the farmer would receive for his farm goods would ensure his family’s comfort and security.
I returned to the area a few years later and visited the farm to check on the man and his family. They were all gone, the farm had become a mess of overgrowth and neglect, and the home bore numerous religious symbols with crucifixes hanging everywhere. In that moment, I knew, but I didn’t want to face the truth.
I rushed to the neighbors on both sides of the farm and began asking questions about the family. What had happened to them? Where had they gone? Why was the farm abandoned? Superstition ruled the small farming community, forcing me to go into Madrid to find anyone who could tell me what had happened. The produce seller remembered me and agreed to share the family’s fate when no one else would.
From what I was able to piece together of his story, I was positive a rogue vampire had moved through the area and possibly picked up my scent at the farm. When the neighbors went to check on the family after they hadn’t seen them for several days, they found the parents and all five daughters mutilated.
Convinced their deaths could’ve only been caused by demons, the outlying townspeople covered the desecrated home in crucifixes to ward them off. The grocer finished his story and wiped the tears from his eyes. I returned to the farm to look at it with new eyes and a renewed purpose.
I walked through the small farmhouse with its meager possessions, remembering the abundance of love that flowed to all who entered into these four walls. All but one, anyway.
That’s when I smelled his scent. That’s when I knew.
“What are you looking for, sir?” His smug tone taunted me, as he intended.
“The monster who killed this family.”
“You’re looking in the wrong place, then. Come. I’ll show you what he looks like.”
I followed the man into the family room, waiting for him to reveal his game. He moved to a large piece of furniture draped with a sheet.
“He’s in here.” The stranger smirked. He jerked the sheet off, revealing an armoire with a full panel mirror on the front.
His mouth dropped open, and his eyes flew wide open as his gaze darted back and forth between the mirror and me.
“But…but…” he stuttered, dumbfounded.
“Is this your idea of a joke?” My nostrils flared, and my voice dropped by a couple of octaves.
“You have a reflection.”
“Of course, I do. What kind of lunatic are you? I’m here to find out what happened to my friend and his family, but you waste my time with this absurd behavior. Why are you here anyway?”
“I thought… I was sure you were a…”
“A what?” I roared.
“I hunt and kill vampires. I was sure you were a vampire and had turned this family.” His face was horror-stricken when he turned to look at his own reflection.
“You killed this family because you thought they were vampires?”
Tears slipped from his eyes, and he continued to stare at the monster in the mirror. The one he considered to be the monster. “Yes.” His reply came out as a hoarse whisper, haunted and ashamed.
“You bastard!” I changed before his eyes and lunged for him. His reaction time was delayed, but he was well equipped for hunting vampires.
As my hand closed around his throat, he slashed my arm with a silver blade. My automatic reaction was to release him and withdraw my arm from the searing pain. In retrospect, I regret not ignoring the pain and finishing what I’d started.
In my momentary lapse of judgment, the vampire hunter scrambled away. I rushed out to catch him and kill him, but I found him having an animated conversation with passing neighbors. Rather than kill all of them, I left the area out of respect for the memory of my friends. But I committed his scent to memory.
When I caught that same scent after feeding, I realized at least one of the warnings Rolland had issued on his visit was true. Vampire hunters are here, adding yet another level of danger to an already volatile situation. After replaying his visit and the conversation, I have to question if he actually wanted to warn me, or if he intended to bring the vampire hunters directly to me.
I think it may be time to have another talk with Rolland Cleary.
Chapter 16
Alea Barnett, July 1791
I’m almost afraid to write the next sentence out of fear it’ll jinx us. It’s been months since we’ve seen or heard a single word about Ramses. Slade and I finally have had time to enjoy being married without the added stresses of clan skirmishes, Ramses’s madness, or the possibility of having our true nature revealed to the world. For the last several months, we’ve solely focused on our life together and what we want out of it.
With Slade being the sole proprietor of his business, his workload doubled when he was forced to pick up the slack for his brother’s customers. Not seeing my husband wasn’t an option, so I joined him in the office and helped with the financial negotiations and collecting commissions. On the rare occasions a customer ventured into the office, it was easy to explain my presence there was simply to assist my
husband for a short time. After all, it’s not prim and proper for a lady of my stature to work outside the home. The general consensus in this era is I should be home, barefoot and pregnant, tending to the other children, and making my home comfortable for my husband when he finishes a hard day in the office.
My feisty side has proven to be harder and harder to keep in check lately. My maestro rosso wants to come out and play at the most inappropriate times. Humans aren’t as likely to appreciate the glowing red eyes as much as other vampires do. However, when a man comes in and speaks to me in a condescending tone, it’s all I can do to stop myself from ripping his throat out.
Slade is truly the best man for me. When I first shared my frustrations with him, he tried to hide his smile behind his hand. That lasted all of about two seconds before his booming laughter filled his office. Watching his gorgeous face light up was worth all the frustration the ignorant men cause me. I realized at that moment he hadn’t had a good reason to laugh like that in far too long. With all the problems his brother had caused, Slade was the one who was left to pick up the scattered and tattered pieces after Ramses disappeared. Any excuse I can find to make him smile, laugh, smirk, or be as proud of me as I am of him is worth whatever it takes.
We worked side by side until everything was caught up and Slade could take an extended break. I wanted to take Castel up on his offer to visit his village and get Slade away for the alone time we’d missed out on. Sometimes convincing him to take time away from the office required unconventional methods. While he sat in his office chair, reviewing the business expansion plans, I crept up beside him and straddled his lap before he could stop me. His body’s reaction to mine was immediate—and more than a little stimulating.
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