Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany)

by Sharon Hamilton

  Paolo, you are a lucky man.

  Paolo was allowed a mortal bride, a pleasure partner. Lionel would have to defend her with his own life if need be. Yet Lionel would never be allowed to have this for himself. It wasn’t fair, but it was the way of it. Lionel knew it didn’t do anyone any good to dredge up those latent feelings that perhaps there could have been another future for him. If he’d taken another path.

  He knew Paolo regretted his choice to become vampire. It had weighed on his mother heavily. She’d wanted to remain mortal, though her husband wanted the change. But Maria, beautiful, full of life Maria, didn’t want to live forever. Lionel couldn’t understand that. Who wouldn’t want to live forever?

  She bore all eight of her children as a mortal woman. Back in those days, women died in childbirth all the time, but Maria was blessed with a strong body and an even stronger will. Lionel had to admit, it was her will that he had loved, even as he lusted for her body. He could have gladly married her, even if he could never touch her, just to be close to her.

  In the end, he had to be satisfied with being her personal bodyguard and most trusted companion, and later most trusted advisor as her health deteriorated, as she was left alone, as the children she bore adopted the vampiric life and had children of their own if they met their fated mates. She didn’t want to live to hear all the stories, she said. At the time of her death, Paolo, Laurel and Marcus were unmarried and had never felt the fating.

  He wondered if there ever could be a fating between Golden and dark. Was that the secret she bore? Why she wouldn’t take the turning, even when her children begged her? Perhaps as a mortal woman she could bear the children she would not be able to bear as a vampire lady. Perhaps she was not fated to her husband. Perhaps she was fated to—

  Lionel heard a sound and shook the snoring form of the SEAL.

  “We have company, I do believe,” he whispered to Andrew.

  “Roger that.” The SEAL woke up ready, just as Lionel had expected. He radioed his counterpart on the other side of the building.

  “They haven’t seen anything,” Andrew reported back.

  “There’s something out there. I can smell it,” Lionel breathed He motioned a zipper to his lip, indicating they’d be doing hand signals from now on.

  Andrew donned his night vision goggles and then switched to infrared. He tapped a thumbs up and passed an extra pair to Lionel. A torch of deep orange was gliding, floating across the street and up towards the window of Cara’s bedroom. It was the heat sig of a tracing vamp, but it was in slow motion, as if the individual wanted to be detected.

  Curious, Lionel motioned for caution and continued to watch the torch blend through the walls and stand in the bedroom beyond. Lionel decided he didn’t want to wait any longer to get between this creature and the woman he was hired to protect.

  He motioned to the SEAL, who slipped an arm around Lionel’s shoulder so he could trace them both to a spot in the hallway beyond. As they landed, a flash of light temporarily blinded them. The tracing vamp had been wired to explode, and if they had been in the same room, would have been killed. As it was, Andrew had suffered a head injury. He lay on his back, blood draining from both ears. Lionel examined himself and determined somehow he’d been unscathed. He heard Cara scream, and immediately he dashed for her home office.

  Cara was wrestling with a dark vamp who turned and gave Lionel a bloody smile. He had taken a bite out of Cara’s neck and was trying to wrench her head from her body.

  Dag.

  “Too late again for the party, Lionel. You can have seconds, if you like. I know you love Golden flesh.”

  Lionel’s fury overtook him. He grappled with the coven leader, sure that others were going to follow. Andrew came to his feet, assisted by another SEAL teammate. Jeb and Hugh took hold of Cara.

  “To the villa,” was all Lionel could say before he was thrown against and through the wall of Cara’s apartment. As he landed on the ground outside, he briefly saw his two brothers trace Cara away, hopefully to safety.

  “Still doing the Monteleone’s dirty work, Lionel? Can’t seem to get a woman of your own, but you’ll die defending theirs? That what your life’s about?”

  “What would you know about my life, you miserable creature? You’ve lived a third of my lifetime. I’ve killed more of you than I can remember.”

  “Your own kind. You’ve killed your own kin, for what? For them? You think they understand you? Care about you and your needs?” Dag was smirking, circling Lionel with lethal intent. Lionel realized he was waiting for something. He didn’t have to wait long to find out what it was.

  A silver net fell over Lionel’s body, encapsulating the guardian and denying him the ability to do further harm.

  Before they injected him with the sleeping serum, Lionel saw the face of Dag’s new executioner, who was wearing heavy gloves to protect his hands from the silver netting. He aimed the pistol containing the tranquilizing agent at Lionel’s heart, and laughed.

  Chapter 36

  Cara looked around her at the band of men who stood as if they were going to take orders from her. She was unclear what had just happened. But somehow she had been transported, flown here at a high rate of speed. She must have passed out, yet she had no sense of losing consciousness. Something about the two-second ride was familiar to her. It felt like her skin had tiny pinpricks all over it. And she knew that it wasn’t the first time that had happened.

  She looked from the face of one man to another, one by one. Until she found the man who had grabbed her by the waist and had done the flying—if that is what it could be called.

  He was handsome, and huge. Sandy brown hair covered his camouflage-painted forehead. He didn’t flinch as she stepped toward him. “What exactly just happened, you want to tell me what you just did to me?”

  “Ma’am. You were in danger. We brought you here to safety.” The giant then pointed to her neck, which suddenly hurt. She placed her fingers on the sore spot, and they came back bloody. Black spots began to form in front of her eyes, and even they seemed familiar, but she fought the urge to sink to the ground. One of the men stepped forward to help her steady herself and she pushed off the tattoo-covered arm.

  “Just how did you do it? You grabbed me and the next thing I knew we were here. I want answers and I want them right now.”

  Several of the men began to smile, but others solemnly nodded their heads.

  “And I want to go back to salvage what’s left of my apartment.”

  “They’ve got Lionel, Huge,” one of the men said to the gentleman who had carried her. The big man looked angry.

  “You’ve been placed here in protective custody until the Monteleones can return home. Until then, you are to stay here with us,” he said.

  “Like hell I will. Monteleone? Did you say Monteleone? As in the head of security for the University?” she asked.

  The band of men laughed. White teeth, dimples, bulging chests and war paint. They didn’t look like killers from the way they laughed, but they were sure dressed for it.

  “What’s so funny? I’d be able to show you his card, except my apartment seems to have been blown up. This the security office?”

  She realized how stupid she sounded. There was no mistaking the fact that the two-story room with carved ceilings was the great room of a grand estate, and not a security office.

  “You’ll want to freshen up until they return. It’s been a long night, but you’re safe here, honest.” The big man held our his hand, “My name is Hugh Jett. This is my brother, Jeb, and these are our team members. We are the private security force of the Monteleone family, your hosts, and owner of this villa.”

  One by one the men peeled off from the circle, leaving Cara alone with Hugh and Jeb Jett. “This way, ma’am,” Jeb pointed to the iron stairway leading to the second floor.

  “Do I have a choice in the matter?” Cara asked.

  “Not if you want to live.” Hugh Jett answered her from behind. She hu
ng onto the handrail and began the long climb. It began to be too much for her and she started to faint.

  Hugh Jett was right there, as he had been before, with his arm around her waist. Before she could protest, he had lifted her up and carried her up the stairs as easily as she might carry a pillow. He brought her to a set of double doors, which he opened, revealing a dark chamber with a roaring fireplace. A large bed with satin sheets stood against the wall opposite the fireplace. The room was warm. The bed looked inviting. Cara suddenly felt very, very tired.

  “I will have one of the girls come get you ready for bed. We will provide some bedclothes for you, and some clothes for the morning. But tonight you must stay here, for your own protection, understand?” Hugh looked down on her like he was talking to a child. She felt like a child.

  “Of course,” was all she could think of to say. Although she wanted to take a shower and get clean, she desperately needed to sleep. There would be time enough tomorrow for fighting.

  “Ma’am. I have some things for you, plus a nice bowl of warm soup.” A young girl in maid uniform brought a tray with a soup bowl and glass of water. Tucked under her arm was a fluffy flannel nightie. “This is mine. I think it will fit.” The girl set the tray down and whisked the two giants out of the room.

  “Whose room is this?” Cara asked as she accompanied the girl to the light brown marble bathroom. A man’s robe hung on a brass hook shaped like a palm. She noted a slight lemony scent to it.

  “This is the guest room, currently occupied by Mr. Paolo Monteleone. His brother owns this villa, and the winery.

  “Ah. He runs the security company that Sonoma State contracts with, is that right?”

  “I’m not sure what the nature of Mr. Monteleone’s business is here. He lives in Tuscany, ma’am.”

  “And where is he this evening?”

  The girl blushed as she tested the shower water she’d just started. “He left for Tuscany this evening. You’ll not be disturbed. Don’t worry.”

  Cara looked in the mirror at her ruined clothes, the blood that had seeped down the side of her blouse. The skin around the wound was getting pink and swollen. “This is going to need some attention. Perhaps after my shower I should be taken to the Emergency Room.”

  “No, ma’am. You are safer here. We have a healing balm that will take care of most of the pain and the infection.”

  “You have no idea what just happened to me. I was bitten, by this man—“

  “Yes, I understand. I can see as much. But, trust me, we have a very effective salve we use for all injuries around the estate. There will not be anyone available to take you to the hospital until tomorrow. But, we will see to whatever you need Please?” she motioned for Cara to come toward the shower.

  Cara allowed the girl to remove her blouse. She was becoming stiff. Her back ached from the jarring she took as she—

  Flew?

  Cara thought she was losing her mind. First Mr. Monteleone told her she’d forgotten about the death of her assistant, and that police had questioned her and she had no recollection of it. Now she was standing in a stranger’s bedroom, about to disrobe, and be treated for a bite wound?

  And what about the rare book? The book about—

  Vampires. Ohmygod, this is all about vampires. Did one bite her?

  “You have to get me out of here,” she whispered to the young maid.

  “No, ma’am. You must stay here. It is for your safety. Trust me when I tell you there is no safer place than this home. You are in danger. There has been already loss of life.”

  “Yes. My assistant was murdered.”

  “And Jeb and Hugh Jett lost their brother tonight as well. They lost him while rescuing you.”

  Cara could see the girl was speaking what she believed to be the truth. She wondered if the girl would answer her next question truthfully.

  “I need to ask you something and I want you to be honest with me. Do vampires exist?”

  The maid turned her gaze to the ground and nodded. “Under the Monteleone’s care there is no greater protection.”

  “Are they—?”

  “No more questions. Everything will be explained tomorrow. Tonight you must shower, I’ll apply the healing salve and someone will discuss all these things with you in the morning. Fair enough?”

  Cara stepped into the shower, which had filled with steam. The lemony soap was exhilarating on her skin, gave a little lift of hope to her insides, the feeling that perhaps the nightmare was about to end, that there was a new chapter beginning in her life.

  And everything in her life was about to change forever.

  Again.

  Chapter 37

  Lionel was trussed and hung from the rafters in the old warehouse Rubin the executioner used as his own private torture palace. A perimeter security current prevented him from tracing out to a safe place. His strength had waned. When the dark guards and soldiers went off for their daytime sleep, a mortal brute was brought in to continue waking Lionel up, whipping him, dousing him in vinegar, and making fun of how fast he healed from his injuries, which prompted spurts of more cruelty.

  The senior Jett brother was growing weary of the game, and knew that unless a vital organ were hit, he could continue on this way for centuries. In fact, there were stories about this kind of sacrifice, a dark prisoner outliving several lifespans of his mortal torturers. Lionel wondered if he, too, would someday be looked upon as a fixture on the wall, no different than one of those ugly, buzzing fluorescent lamps no one ever looked at. His groans and moans would be background noise to an otherwise busy day, or lost in the dusty corners of the abandoned warehouse.

  He actually liked it when someone was present, even if it meant torture. The boredom of hanging, reacting to every strange sound, the wind jangling the chains that held the doors shut or the scurrying of a tiny rodent was mind-numbing. But even if he wanted to, Lionel knew he could and would not end himself. As long as he was alive, his mission was still to live, protect and give witness to the mighty Monteleone clan.

  The executioner had brought a couple of curious girls to the warehouse, no doubt to prove his manhood and cruelty, something Lionel thought Rubin felt a bit self-conscious about for some reason. He talked them into the leather restraints. He whipped them with a crop, and if they didn’t cry out enough, he’d whip Lionel, causing a ribbon of flesh to fly off his body. They’d scream just watching Lionel suffer.

  Later on, Rubin brought someone else who definitely was not using drugs and was a whole octave higher on the intelligence scale. Lionel could sense she was a dark vamp, and a recent turning. Rubin’s bloodstained fingers massaged the little tart’s breasts from behind as she stood in front of Lionel, watching every ripple and movement of muscle his body made. She was naked and had nice skin. She revealed a sullen smile when his pecker rose for a salute, not that she deserved that. He just couldn’t help it.

  The executioner had seen her arousal at another man’s dick and cried foul.

  “Shut up, sweetheart,” she replied to him. “I’m the one you’re going to fuck. Let’s do it right here, in front of him. Maybe he’ll come in my face.”

  Rubin grunted and got to work, bending his knees to make up for their difference in height. He wasn’t light on his feet and was having positional difficulties. The little vixen sighed, grabbed Lionel’s thighs and bent herself forward, balancing on the bloody prisoner. This gave Rubin full access to either orifice and he got to work, until he noticed she had licked Lionel’s cock and began licking the old sticky blood from his body.

  “Hey. Not. Sure. I. Like. That,” Rubin gasped between thrusts.

  She wiggled her eyebrows up and down and mouthed whatever, then got back to work, teasing the prisoner to the point of making him pop.

  Lionel had to admit he wanted to push her head into his groin and smother her, but his hands remained tied high above his head. He tried to focus on her face and where her tongue was going, rather than what was happening behind her. She
had a nice touch. He could almost say she was gentle.

  “I want your cum, lover boy,” she whispered between licks. She took a couple of steps closer and enclosed him with her mouth, no longer teasing but working on him with in a very skilled and professional style.

  Rubin didn’t seem to notice. The executioner’s eyes were squeezed shut as he grunted his release, probably thinking she was referring to him.

  Lionel let her have it, all eight fuckin’ ounces of it or however much it was. He’d never measured. She got most of it down, and her breasts were creamy and covered in his sticky seed that had leaked from her lips. He could tell she would be gagging soon, but instead, she rammed him deeper, all the way down her throat, which sent a new wave of cum from him in response.

  Holy shit.

  If he ever made it out of here, he’d have a hard time getting his brothers and the Monteleone boys to believe what had transpired.

  Not that he had any choice in the matter than to relax and allow himself to become a tool.

  Rubin was done and he began to wipe himself up with a dirty rag. The blonde righted herself and smeared the cum over her breasts. She was breathing hard as she studied Lionel. He saw a question there, but had no idea what she really had on her mind. Just that she was the most twisted lady he’d ever met. Her eyes had gone dark. Lionel could tell she was enjoying the pleasures of his preternatural sperm. She licked her lips and gave him a wicked smile. He knew he was in for more sex if he didn’t get out of this warehouse. Maybe he could use her arousal to his advantage.

  “I’ll show you a real good time if you untie my hands.”

  “I don’t need your hands. I need your cock.”