Secrets in Blood

by Patricia D. Eddy

  “That is why.”

  “Oh.”

  Nic slid his hand into her hair and claimed her mouth. Every nerve ending caught fire, and despite the cool air, Evangeline started to burn for him. Desire flooded her, and she hooked her leg over his hip.

  “Evangeline,” he managed when he broke off the kiss, “the bonding is growing stronger. I cannot fight what I feel for you. I want to. I want you to be happy. Free.”

  “I know.” She pressed her hand to his heart, feeling the strong, steady beat quicken. Without thinking, she angled her head, and his lips found the marks he’d left on her neck. Warmth gathered in her core. “What…oh God…what do we have to do to complete…the bonding?” Her skin electrified. “Shit. I can’t think when you do that.”

  “Neither can I.” He pulled away with a groan.

  “Is there a chance we’ll bond without meaning to?” Evangeline ran a hand through her hair, grabbing a thick handful and tugging to the point of pain to help her focus.

  “I do not think either of us meant to have sex this morning. I certainly did not mean to mark you.”

  “Good point. So we’re doomed?” At the thought, she tried to stop her nervous giggle but failed miserably and the sound ended on a hiccup.

  “Are you actually laughing at this whole mess? We could end up irrevocably bound. Does this amuse you?” He tried to shift away, but Evangeline followed, and he relented, drawing his arm around her, but keeping her from climbing on top of him.

  Get yourself under control, Eva. You can manage to avoid sex for a few days. Even with him.

  Turning her attention back to Nic, she sighed. “No, it doesn’t ‘amuse’ me. I’m fucking terrified. But considering what we’ve already survived and what we’re about to do…this…pales in comparison.”

  Nic’s scent, his warm hand against her back, his voice…nothing mattered but him and the two of them together. And staying safe.

  “Fair enough.” Nic slid his free arm back to rest his head on his hand. “The bonding ceremony is closely tied to the moon cycle. Though we are creatures of the earth, vampires feel the pull of the moon—much like werewolves and witches. Our moods shift with the phases of the moon. If you were to pass a month with me, you would likely notice. Physical signs indicate when the ritual can be performed.”

  “Physical signs?”

  Nic brushed the marks on her neck. “I should be marked as well. But you have no fangs with which to do so. The next part is all ceremony. We would feed one another.”

  “Blood?” She shivered, every time she’d had his blood, pain had followed.

  “No. Food. Vampires love food, cara. We eat little, so we treasure every bite. I endured the pain your father inflicted on me with greater ease than the vile, tasteless manufactured protein he forced upon me for my infrequent meals. I tried to starve myself many times, but…he would chain me and force a feeding tube down my throat.”

  “Oh shit. Nic, I’m so sorry.” She cupped his cheek, caressed the stubble that darkened his jaw. “I wish I’d known. If only I’d tried to free you sooner…”

  “No. You were a child. Do not feel sorry for me…or harbor any guilt over my past. You saved me from that hell, and whether we bond or not, you have given me more joy in the short time I have known you than in more than eight hundred years prior.”

  The wistful longing in his voice spoke of desires he’d yet to utter, pain he’d long harbored, and a desperate need for something she couldn’t understand.

  “Carlo will bring a feast for us,” Nic continued. “I very much want to introduce you to the richness of my homeland’s culinary history. Have you ever tasted prosciutto?”

  “No. You’re trying to avoid talking about the bonding, aren’t you?”

  Nic kissed the top of her head, tucked just under his chin. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I am merely hungry. Food is such a joy to us that it is an important part of the bonding. But there is more. Blood must be exchanged. I have been told that you instinctually know where and when to bite, but the last and final mark is over the heart. All must be performed within a single night. Something about the amount of blood exchanged keys the physical changes that link the couple together forever. Typically, the blood exchange happens during sex. Once that has been completed, the bonding is confirmed.”

  Evangeline frowned in the darkness. With little light trickling in from the windows, she relied on her other senses: Nic’s scent surrounding her, his fingers tracing calming patterns on her lower back, the feel of his cock stirring under her hand. She hadn’t realized she’d dipped her fingers lower than his waist and shifted slightly. “So as long as you only feed from one side of my neck, we’re safe, yes?”

  “I believe so. This is assuming we even could complete the ceremony. You cannot bite me, so the blood exchange would be one-sided. But I swear for my part, I will not perform the ritual unless you were to ask me. Carlo knows more of love and mating. He is not mated, but he sired one other vampire many years ago. That vampire mated soon after she was turned. Carlo is like a father to the girl.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “Close your eyes, cara. We should sleep soon.” He pulled the blanket up, and she draped her arm around his waist. Though she didn’t want to strengthen the bonding, she couldn’t stand the idea of even an inch between them.

  “Carlo owes me a life debt. He was turned two hundred and sixty years ago and his sire, Seretta, was killed moments after she turned him. She had desired a companion, as mine had, but where I was unwilling, Carlo begged his sire to turn him. He wished to bond with her. I found them on my way home. A group of humans—religious zealots, much like the Hand of God—had set upon them. In order to protect Carlo—we cannot defend ourselves during our transition—Seretta had risked everything, and she’d lost her battle. When a vampire is sired, they spend several hours in a near-death state. The zealots believed Carlo dead. I bound the four humans who had murdered Seretta and brought them and Carlo to my home.”

  “The incantesimo?”

  “No. Ropes only. I wanted them aware. I was not kind to the humans. They were tied at their ankles and dragged behind my horse. I bound them to trees at my home and waited for Carlo to be reborn. When he woke, I explained that I would not allow him to kill the humans. I helped him feed from them. Ensured they remained alive. When he was sated and I explained how, he used the incantesimo.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He instructed the humans to come to America. Few survived the journey at that time, so they may have died within weeks, but we do not know. Carlo is a good man. He has occasionally strayed. Twice he has killed while feeding, and more than that he has used the incantesimo. Sometimes for personal gain. But he strives to always be better. He has worked for me for more than a century. He is my lawyer and oversees much of the operation of my companies.”

  “You mentioned other names on the phone. Who are they?”

  “Every member of the Conclave has a personal guard. Pietro worked for me for fifty years before I was taken. You must be wary around him, Evangeline. I am much older than he and so he will never best me, but he is not as accepting of humans as Carlo. You should not be alone with him. Your blood is too strong. Too tempting for one so young. Vittoria is my personal physician. She treats most of the vampires in Sorrento.”

  “You need doctors?”

  Nic laughed. The rich, deep sound reverberated through his chest, warming Evangeline’s cheek. “Si, cara. We need doctors. Not often, of course, but from time to time. There are human blood disorders that will sicken us when we feed and silver is always a danger.”

  Evangeline nodded. She felt so safe in his arms. Even here, in the middle of nowhere, hunted, cold, and surrounded by darkness, Nic would die before letting anything happen to her. Her own father didn’t care that much for her and probably never had. Had her mother loved her? Her father had told her so. But Marie had died when she was born, and she wondered if that had sealed her fate in her father’s eyes.


  “You are sad.” Nic’s lips brushed her ear. “Why?”

  “I’m just tired,” she deflected. “We should sleep a while.”

  He sighed. “Very well. We will talk more in the morning.”

  23

  “Evangeline, cara, wake up now,” Nic murmured.

  She gasped as her hips jerked against him. “Nic? Oh God. I was dreaming.” Her cheeks flushed as the gray light of dawn cast his face in a gentle glow. Under her shirt, her taut nipples ached as she shifted and felt his cock throbbing between her thighs.

  “I know.” He’d woken with her pressing her lithe body to his, tiny whimpers and moans driving him mad as he struggled not to take her. The scent of her arousal filled the small office.

  Unable to stop himself, he slid his fingers into her hair, and Evangeline kissed him so thoroughly, he wasn’t sure he was breathing by the end. Fuck control. He had to have her.

  As she fumbled for his zipper, his head hit the cheap, wooden desk next to them. He grunted and rolled on top of her once he’d pushed his jeans and boxers down his hips. Finding the mark on her neck, he nipped the tender flesh between his teeth. She cried out as her body shuddered underneath him.

  Thankful for his enhanced speed, he unzipped her jeans and had them down to her knees in seconds. She came immediately, almost violently, waves of pleasure rolling through her as his fingers dipped between her thighs.

  His fangs descended, his mouth watered, and he bit down, hard, renewing his mark with a savage growl as she convulsed around him.

  Her short nails dug into his back, and the hint of pain drove him harder. As her blood trickled over his tongue, he pulled his mouth away and sealed the wounds. As he slid down, he hesitated over her breast, where the final bonding mark would forever rest. With a shake of his head, he continued lower, kissing down her stomach, all the way to her mound.

  Merda. She smelled like…heaven. Fresh air, the sea, spring flowers. Gently, he parted her lower lips and dragged his tongue over her clit. She moaned, her hips thrusting up to meet his mouth. He’d never get enough of her taste. Not just her blood. Her skin. Her sex. Her lips.

  Nic traced patterns on her most sensitive nub as he slid two fingers deep inside her. His Evangeline arched her back and cried out. “More. Please!”

  Si. Always more. He’d give her anything she wanted. Anything she needed. For the rest of her life. Adding another finger, he thrust his hand deeper. Keeping his fangs in check took all of his control, but he sucked the tender bud between his front teeth, and she screamed as she came again, half curling off the floor with the force of her release.

  Unable to resist the pull of her body any longer, he got to his knees and slid his cock inside her. Trying to be gentle, he braced himself on his elbows as he slowly worked his hips. “You are so beautiful, cara.”

  Evangeline wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself up so she could kiss his jaw, back to his ear, and then down his neck. When her lips rested over the pulse point where his own bonding mark should be, she caught the skin between her teeth and bit down.

  Vaffanculo! The sensation shot directly to his cock, and though he’d wanted to take his time with her, he surged forward, flooding her with the very essence of his manhood before he collapsed on top of her, panting.

  Once he’d come back to himself, he shifted to the side, hoping he hadn’t hurt her.

  “Oh my God.”

  “What?” Nic wrapped his hands around her waist and guided her up, alarmed at her tone. Her fingers trembled as she touched his neck. The electric shock arced between them, shooting all the way down to his toes. “You…marked me. How?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t even know why I kissed you there. I just…had to.” Evangeline looked down at her knees, her lower lip tucked between her teeth.

  They could complete the bonding. Nic didn’t know whether the thought pleased or panicked him.

  “Did I bleed?”

  “No, I didn’t taste it.”

  Shaking his head, he got to his feet and tugged on his clothes. “Evangeline, we are being irresponsible. Reckless. We cannot continue to do this.” Even as he said the words, he knew how foolish he sounded. And condescending. He’d wanted her every bit as much as she’d wanted him—even if she had been the one to wake him with her desperate mewls.

  “You started this,” she snapped. At his raised brow, she blew out a breath. “Fine. Maybe my dream…” Embarrassed, she dressed quickly and stalked out of the room, muttering, “There’s got to be a bathroom in this place.”

  Nic grimaced as the door slammed. Though he couldn’t blame her for wanting to put some distance between them. He’d lain awake half the night, unable to sleep with her body pressed against him. But his desire for her went beyond physical.

  His Evangeline had a quick wit, and a spark inside her that hadn’t dimmed in the eighteen years he spent as a prisoner.

  “There were fireworks.” He could still remember her defiance at only eight, and if he let his mind wander, hear her screams as he’d lain dying. Forcing his thoughts back to the present, he licked his lips, still tasting her. Striding to the men’s room, he took care of his needs and then ran cold water from the old, stained sink. Thank God the plumbing still worked.

  Splashing his face, he tried to wash away the taste, the smell of his life mate, hoping that perhaps without the constant scent of her arousal all around him, he’d be able to focus.

  The cheap soap did little, though, and he tied his hair back, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the scratched mirror. The man staring back at him was a stranger. He’d lost weight during his captivity—perhaps fifteen pounds—not much, but enough for his face to appear hollow.

  His eyes held a deep, abiding sadness. An emotion he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge often but felt every single day. Loss of eighteen years, si, but loneliness most of all. Despite his assurances that vampires were solitary creatures, he’d rarely been truly alone.

  Most business days, he’d gone to his office, chatted with one or two of his employees, gone out for espresso midday. He’d wandered the streets of Sorrento, dined in her fine restaurants, spoken to wait staff, shop keepers, even a few acquaintances. No one he’d consider a friend—except for perhaps Carlo. But…still.

  He’d spoken more in the past three days than in the previous eighteen years. And all to a woman he found himself unable to resist.

  No, Nic didn’t just want her body. He ached to know the woman whose intelligence and heart had let her ignore her father’s evil teachings, whose loyalty and sense of justice had prevented her from running when she had the chance—because she wouldn’t leave him behind.

  Emerging from the bathroom, Nic wandered over to the front doors. Sun streamed through wispy clouds, and he shielded his eyes against the brightness. Sunglasses. He should have asked Carlo to bring sunglasses.

  As the women’s room door clicked open, he tried not to turn, but even the few minutes they’d spent apart had been too much for him. His enhanced vision picked up a tear glistening at the corner of her eye.

  She shook off whatever thought inspired her sadness and leaned against the counter a few feet away. “How much longer, do you think?”

  “Until we cannot stop ourselves? Not long.”

  Evangeline’s jaw dropped. “No. Shit. Is that all you can think about?”

  “Si.”

  “Men,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Sex, sex, sex. All of you. All the time.”

  “Can you blame me? I have never felt for anyone what I feel for you. I know you feel the same.” He sauntered towards her, but she took a couple of quick steps back. Frustrated, he grabbed the shelving unit he’d slid in front of the door the previous night and shoved it across the room.

  “I just wanted to know when Carlo would show up. That’s all.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a move which only served to highlight her perfect breasts under the flannel.

  Nic glanced up at the sky once
more, guessing at the time. “Soon. A seven-hour flight, an hour or two drive from the airport, time to collect supplies, to stop in Spain for Pietro.” Purposely keeping his distance, he studied her. “You look nothing like your father.”

  Her laugh settled him. “Thank goodness for that. I take after my mother. Henry always said I looked just like her. Maybe that’s why he,” her voice dropped, “hated me. I reminded him of her.”

  Sadness flooded over their bond. “What happened to her?”

  “She died when I was born.”

  “In childbirth?” He frowned, aching to comfort her, but he sensed she didn’t want him to touch her. Not yet.

  “No. Not exactly. Henry said she got hurt a few weeks before she was due. He never said how. But he delivered me—c-section. She was dying. He didn’t have a choice.

  Evangeline shrugged. “The only time Henry ever displayed an emotion other than anger was when he talked about her. I think he loved her very much. I used to wonder if he hated me because I reminded him of her—of her death.”

  Her fingers tightened on the coin she wore around her neck, and Nic sensed the calm touching the metal brought her. Closing the distance between them, he brushed his fingers over the coin, letting them linger on her skin.

  “I enjoy seeing you wear this.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “You…don’t want it back?”

  “No. I gave it to you because I wanted you to have it. I still do. Have you always worn it?”

  Flustered, Evangeline backed away and started to pace. “No. I hid the coin for years. Henry punished me for anything I said or did related to you. Can you imagine if I’d shown this to him? But I used to sleep with it under my pillow. Sometimes I’d carry it in my pocket. A few years ago, I put the coin on this chain and started wearing it when I didn’t have to hunt or spend time around my father.”

  “It is important to you.”

  “Of course.”

  “Why?” Nic stilled her restless movements with a hand on her wrist. The heat of her skin soothed him, and she dropped her eyes, chewing on her lower lip, perhaps trying to formulate an answer.