Summoning Shadows: A Rosso Lussuria Vampire Novel

by Pennington, Winter

  The bed moved and the back of her soft hand slid across my left temple.

  “I chose her to wait on you because she agreed and I felt you would find comfort in another human’s presence.”

  “She agreed to wait on me at your behest, but did she agree to die for me when you turned me, Renata?” I had never asked it of her, ever.

  “She knew what she risked,” Renata said, her expression cool and blank.

  She traced my jaw with the tips of her fingers. “You have more questions,” she said, her touch tender. “Ask.”

  “Did she serve you as I serve you?”

  “No.”

  “Did she desire to?”

  Renata raised her shoulders in response.

  “You are playing coy, my lady. She did your bidding thinking it would gain her a place in your bed, did she not?”

  She leaned over me, bringing our faces close. Her hair enclosed us like a canopy.

  “You are becoming entirely too adept at discernment, cara mia.”

  Renata’s sinful lips were close enough that a breath was all it would take to close the distance between us.

  “You played on her desire for your affections and then cast her to my fangs,” I whispered.

  “I gave her what she wanted.”

  “To die?” I asked.

  “To be embraced by a vampire, no matter the consequences.”

  Renata kissed me, and all thoughts of Justine vanished under the command of her lips. Her hand moved along my body, sliding between my legs and pressing against me. My hips rose at the contact and I moaned.

  I broke the kiss, trying to clear my mind. “Should we be doing this now?”

  Renata sank to her knees beside me. She caught my wrists in her hands and pressed my arms high up above my head to pin them to the coverlet.

  “Can you think of anything better to do, cara mia?”

  I groaned as her energy washed over me like a seductive wave that promised to drown me in the depths of pleasure. Her gaze was bright with power when it locked with mine. She was hungry for more than sex.

  She kissed me again until my head reeled with desire.

  “Take it,” I whispered. “Take me.”

  Renata grabbed two handfuls of my tunic and tore it open down the middle.

  “I shall, my sweet.” She eyed my body as if it were a delicious feast. The intensity of her desire and hunger made me ache pleasantly.

  She bowed her head and her mouth moved on me again. Her kisses fell like velvet petals on my skin. She undressed me slowly, working every inch of my flesh with her fingertips and teasing me with a light caress of nails. She cupped my breasts and squeezed them, gently coaxing my desire from embers to flames.

  She pulled me to the edge of the bed and knelt on the floor between my legs. I reclined on my elbows to watch her. She rested her arm along the line of my thigh and traced my inner folds with a faraway expression. The tip of her finger slid over that sweet spot near my cleft, and I gasped, my head falling back.

  Renata kissed my thigh, barely a brush of lips, no more. I gazed down the pale line of my body to find her faraway expression had been swallowed by another. The look in her sky-ocean depths said one thing and one thing only: Mine.

  Always. Whether I thought it or said it aloud, I don’t know. Renata bowed her head and set about claiming me with her mouth, licking and sucking until she reduced me to a mess of small gasps and moans.

  I was close to that sweet edge. My thighs trembled as every muscle in my body contracted against the pleasure. I was on a precipice, about to fall—

  Someone cleared their throat.

  For a moment, Renata hesitated and I thought she would stop, but she was queen and my lover. She did not have to stop.

  The sigil at my wrist tingled, letting me know who made attempts to interrupt us. Renata bit me, her fangs piercing me as she fed at my sex. I cried out when she pushed her fingers inside me and the orgasm came upon me like a clap of thunder, a storm that brewed in my blood and broke like lightning through my limbs.

  When it passed, I lay back boneless, seeing stars behind my lids. Renata licked my blood from her lips. Her voice, when it came, held a thread of irritation in it. “I do not like being interrupted, Dracule. Such would be a good thing to bear in mind when next you enter my chambers unannounced.” She withdrew her fingers from inside me and I cried out again.

  “I thought you would like to know that while you were busy fucking, the Stregherian witch has restored your precious Donatore.”

  “You dare to criticize me?” Renata rose from her kneeling position, standing to all of her height. Her expression was a dangerous one. The tension in the room jumped a notch and flushed my skin.

  Iliaria took a threatening step in Renata’s direction. “When I criticize you, you will know it.”

  My skin flushed even warmer, as if their anger was a burning brazier filling the room with heat. Renata took a step toward Iliaria again and I’d no idea what she intended. I didn’t care to find out.

  “I don’t take kindly to threats, especially not ones coming from—”

  I sat up. “Enough!” The word erupted from my lips, cracking like a whip in the tension thick air.

  They both looked at me as though I’d just appeared.

  “Lest you forget in your bickering,” I said. “I am a woman, not an object. And if you failed to notice, which you obviously seem to have done, Renata was feeding. If she hadn’t needed to feed, she wouldn’t have initiated anything to begin with. Wasn’t that obvious?”

  I clambered out of bed and tugged on my trousers. Renata reached out to touch me, and I stopped her by holding up my hand. “I do not advise touching me right now, my lady.”

  “You are feeling our anger toward each other,” she said, more statement than question.

  “Yes, and if you want me to stop feeling it, I advise you both to get it under control.”

  Renata let me pass without trying to touch me. I pulled a loose tunic from the trunk in her closet and slipped it on over my head. An empath feels other people’s emotions almost as though they’re her own. I was no different, and I was especially close to these two angry, passionate women. I didn’t want to do something stupid because of their anger with each other.

  When I returned to the room, the energy in the air was better, less stifling. There remained an undercurrent, but Iliaria had taken a non-threatening seat at the dressing table, and Renata sat calmly poised on the bed.

  “Some of the Donatore did not survive,” Iliaria said conversationally enough. “Their minds were too far broken by the original spell and they had to be destroyed.”

  “How many?” Renata asked.

  Iliaria appeared thoughtful. “A dozen,” she said, shrugging. “No more.”

  Renata nodded. “Was there any word of Dante?”

  “No. None of the Donatore saw him before they were attacked. They confirmed Dominique’s story. There were four of them, two witches and two Dracule. I suspect one of the Dracule was Damokles.”

  “That’s awfully unsettling,” I said, still unnerved by the fact that Iliaria and I had been awake and completely unaware of what had happened within the walls of the Sotto. “So do we assume they’ve taken Dante for information or that Dante has possibly betrayed us?”

  “Dante would not do such a thing,” Renata said. “His loyalty has been unwavering for centuries. Why would it waver now?”

  “Love or hate,” I said, remembering something Vasco had once told me, “or something to gain.”

  Renata stubbornly shook her head. “He would not, Epiphany.”

  “Still,” I said, “it is a possibility to consider, nothing more, my lady. In a predicament such as this, how could I not think it?”

  “She’s right, you know,” Iliaria said. “More than ever, those you trust should be questioned.”

  Renata stood. “I know Dante,” she said. “I will worry about the strength of his loyalty and oath later, but now I am more concerned
with finding him. I am his queen, I should be able to sense him, and thanks to the witch your kin conspire with, I cannot even sense my own vampire.”

  “There’s still Cuinn,” I said.

  I felt Cuinn stir at my mention of him.

  “Yes, there is Cuinn, and had he been able to sense Dante, we would have sensed him when searching for Dominique, Epiphany. I did not sense a thread for Dante,” she said.

  “I didn’t remember,” I said.

  The clap of wings startled me and I turned to find Anatharic, Vasco, and Savina near the doors.

  There was blood on Vasco’s shirt.

  “What’d we miss?” he asked.

  “Where’s Dominique and Nirena?” I asked.

  “Tending to the Donatore and making ready for when the Elders rise,” he said, his gaze slipping to Renata. “My lady?”

  “Dante is still missing,” she said. “How do you suppose we find him?”

  Vasco appeared thoughtful for several seconds before he whipped around in a dance-like move to Savina.

  “No,” Savina said. “I’ve helped your clan already, vampire. I’ve granted your boon. You’ve no more promises to dangle over my head.”

  “We were friends once, Savina.”

  “Once does not mean now, Vasco.”

  “I helped you and yours in your time of need,” he said.

  “Sì,” she said, “and I am forever grateful, but you’ll not charm and manipulate me into risking my neck any more than I already have.”

  “Why do you despise us?” I asked, honestly perplexed.

  She turned to glare at me. “What business is it of yours?”

  “I’m curious, is all. You seem to bear quite the grudge against our kind, and yet I can’t fathom why.”

  “What grudges I bear and do not bear is none of your concern, vampire.”

  “I have a name,” I said. “You’re more than welcome to use it.”

  “Savina’s family was attacked by Il Deboli,” Vasco said. “Might I remind you, Savina, that was centuries ago. We are not your enemies, nor are we Il Deboli. I told you then and I tell you now, Il Deboli go against our laws. They do not follow the true ways of our society.”

  “You’re not exactly my amigo, Vasco.”

  Vasco shook his head, his expression somber. “Only of your own doing, Savina. You chose to give up our friendship when you found out what I am.”

  Savina didn’t reply. In fact, she averted her eyes as if looking at him pained her. After several moments, she finally said, “You loved my brother well.”

  “I tried to save him, Savina,” Vasco said, his voice tempered with kindness. “You are not the only one who suffered at his loss.”

  “No,” she said and her voice was so soft it was nearly inaudible, “but I am the only one that lost both of you.”

  Vasco spread his arms. “I cannot change who I am, Savina, no more than you can. I am sorry that I could not love you the way I loved Emanuelle.”

  Savina flinched slightly. “You could have been honest with me instead of playing me for a fool.”

  Vasco sighed. “How could I have been honest with you when it was a struggle being honest with myself?”

  “You have a son.”

  A long silence stretched throughout Renata’s chambers. I caught her gaze. She had been surprised, too. I daresay, all of us were, Vasco most of all.

  He stood before Savina, completely frozen with shock, wrapped in a preternatural stillness.

  “What?” He seemed to return to life, his limbs moving. He took Savina by the shoulders. “What did you just say?” He shook her with an expression of shock and awe.

  “You have a son, Vasco,” she repeated.

  “Do not lie to me!” Vasco shook her again, and this time, she winced.

  “You have my word!”

  “One night,” he said. He cursed in a slew of Italian that was indecipherable to me. “We lay together one night, centuries ago. How can this be true?” He searched her face as if he’d find the answers there.

  “Sì,” she said, and then responded in more Italian than I could catch.

  Bloody hell. At least now I knew that the witches were long-lived as well and that Vasco had been with her a long time ago. Possibly before he’d even been turned.

  In my mind, Cuinn opened his long snout, his tongue curling slightly. He yawned as if the whole thing bored him.

  The two exchanged more fervent words until Vasco had a white-knuckled death grip on her shoulders.

  “Why?” he asked, his eyes were alight with the question. “Why did you never tell me this thing?”

  “We were not meant to be, Vasco. You made that abundantly clear. I sought only to spare your son the knowledge of your disgrace.”

  Vasco hissed through his fangs and abruptly shoved Savina back. She stumbled but did not seek to defend herself. She didn’t need to.

  He turned his back on her and his long hair fell over his face like a curtain.

  I went to him then. “Vasco,” I said gently.

  Pain. So much sorrow. I didn’t think Savina knew how much her unkindness wounded him, how much the keeping of such a secret hurt him. So many years had passed and he had never known that he had a son. I touched his wrist lightly as I tried to bring his attention to me. He ignored me as if I was not there.

  I moved around him, for he was taller than I, and though he was slender, my point was not likely to come across as well hiding behind Vasco.

  I glared at Savina. “You’re a fool.”

  “You would say that, vampire. You who are one of them.”

  I drew my lips back in a snarl that revealed fang. A cool hand touched my arm, and I met Vasco’s bright eyes. He turned to Savina.

  “But my titles, my estates, my inheritance,” he said, “all those were good enough to keep, good enough for your impoverished family. But not good enough for me to be in my son’s life.”

  An icy prickle of calm went through Vasco. I didn’t know if it was some trick of his powers or simply that I became more aware, but it seemed even his touch on my arm grew colder.

  “You always were a privileged snob,” she said. “It does not surprise me that you would throw such a thing in my face.”

  “If you knew an ounce about the man that stands before you, you wouldn’t say things like that.” I stepped toward her, and the only thing that stopped me was Vasco’s icy grip on my arm.

  “Of course you would not see it,” she said and then added a couple of Italian words I didn’t recognize. She waved a hand in the air at Vasco and me. “You are very much alike.”

  “If you’re going to insult me,” I said, “at least have the courage to do it in a language I understand.”

  “Whore,” she began, but before she could finish, Vasco’s sword rang from its sheath in a song of steel.

  The tip of his blade was suddenly beneath Savina’s chin, denting the tender skin.

  “Watch your tongue when speaking to her. Epiphany is more of a lady than you ever will be.”

  A wave of anger washed from Savina as she glared over the sword at him.

  “If you’re going to draw blade on me, you’d be wise to use it,” she said, her voice low.

  Vasco sheathed his sword in a practiced move.

  An expression of triumph settled across Savina’s features.

  “We are done here,” Vasco said. “You have overstayed your welcome.”

  She didn’t like that. “You still need my help,” she said.

  “If this is how you repay a favor in kind, then no. We are better off without it.”

  “You’ll not find your vampire without me.”

  “You said you would not help us and I tire of these games, Savina.”

  I shook my head, drawing Vasco’s attention.

  “What is it, colombina?”

  “After all these years, she still wants you to need her, Vasco.”

  “I do not,” Savina lied.

  “You’re lying to yourself, lady. A
ye, you do. You don’t like that Vasco is sending you off. You want him to beseech you, and he won’t. If you truly knew him, you would know that.”

  “Of course he would not,” she said snidely. “You were always too good for that, weren’t you, Vasco?”

  Renata said, “Anatharic.”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you kindly see to it that the witch Savina is returned safely to her homeland?”

  When Anatharic approached her, Savina backed away from him with a look of disgust and distrust.

  “I can find the way myself.”

  “Then by all means,” Renata said, eyes blossoming with power. “Do so. Sooner, rather than later.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  She stood. “Your services are no longer required.”

  Savina cast a look to Vasco. “You’ll need me,” she said, believing her own words. “Before all this is over, Vasco, you’ll need my aid again. Remember that when you come crawling back on your knees for it.”

  In the blink of an eye, she was gone, leaving no trace that she’d ever been with us.

  No trace, except for the sorrow emitting off Vasco’s tall frame. I touched his arm. “Are you well, my brother?”

  He relaxed a fraction under my hand. “As well as I can be, colombina.”

  “She meant to unsettle you, Vasco.”

  “I know.”

  “Do not let her. It makes no difference now.”

  He shook his head with something close to regret in him. “It makes all the difference, Epiphany. My own flesh and blood is out there somewhere.”

  “Will you try to find him?”

  If Vasco decided to try to seek out his son, if Renata granted him permission to do so, it was a dangerous task to undertake.

  Vasco said aloud what I had fairly much been thinking. “It would be dangerous to leave the sanctuary of the Sotto.”

  “It would, but there is a way, my Silver Prince, if you decide that finding your son is something you must do,” Renata said.

  “Even then,” Vasco said, “there is the danger of being mistaken as Il Deboli.”

  “Yes.”

  “I will think on it.”

  “Simply let me know when you decide. The Cacciatori can ride out with you. That should greatly diminish the risk.” Renata inclined her head to indicate the conversation was over, at least for the moment.