by Carla Krae
I’d never kill again if I could help it.
****
Rome had been my home for nearly two weeks when I received a visitor. I sat at the back of another tavern, sipping ale, when I felt the presence of family—vampiric family. Slipping my hand beneath my cloak, I felt for the dagger always at my side.
“Still, Adamo. If I wanted you dead, you would be.” Vittore sat at my table and signaled the bar maid for a drink.
“Why are you here?”
“Curiosity. I wanted to see how the young wolf was faring on his own. Ate anyone good lately?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be sharing.”
He grinned. “Touché.” The bar maid came to take his order. “A bottle of your best wine for me and my friend.”
“Is Juliet here as well?” I asked, hoping the query sounded casual.
“Nah. She wanted to head north. I didn’t.”
“Thought you were her devoted dog.”
His dull brown eyes narrowed on me and I worried I had pressed my luck. “Careful, boy.”
“Speak plainly—are you here to drag me back?”
He dropped all pretense of friendship. “No. Even if you wanted to beg forgiveness, I would strike you down.”
“Then why find me if you despise me so?”
“To tell you, boy, that you owe me for your freedom. Do you think you broke her thrall all on your own?”
He helped me? “I thought--”
“Oh.” He laughed. “You thought--” He continued to laugh, drawing eyes to our table. Done with his mockery, I stood to leave. Vittore grabbed my arm with an iron grip. “Sit.”
I took to my seat again, but only to avoid trouble. “Why would you break her spell?”
“Because, you idiot, you don’t belong--”
The truth dawned on me. “You’re in love with her.”
Certainly, I had heard him say the word before, but I never thought he meant it. His jealousy had seemed like nothing more than possessiveness over his mate, the same many animals showed every day. He wasn’t capable of true love, but he felt enough for her to view me as a threat.
Knowing his weakness gave me a feeling of power.
A growl rumbled in his chest at the interruption. Crimson bled into his irises and for a second, I thought he would give away our nature in front of all the humans.
“You deserve each other,” I continued. “The only threat either of you face from me is at the point of a stake.”
“Try it. Vampires have a rule, Adamo—you do not kill your maker. Leave them, hate them, curse their name, but you do not slay an elder.”
“Do you mean to say you would forfeit your life if she attacked you?” The idea was absurd.
“Yes,” he said with absolute conviction. “My body and my blood are hers, same as you.”
“I belong to no one.”
He shook his head and stood with his bottle of wine. “You really are a fool.”
Vittore left with the last word, but I felt I won something from the exchange. While I hated the idea of him assisting me, I valued his presence as an obstacle to Juliet reclaiming me. The constant fear of the past ten days released its grip on my chest and I could breathe.
I ordered another pint and considered where in this world of wonders I wanted to go next. For an immortal, the possibilities were endless.
The End
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Table of Contents
Compelled
Midpoint
