Rare Vintage

by Bianca D’Arc

  Brotherhood of Blood

  Rare Vintage

  by

  Bianca D’Arc

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  1st Edition published in 2003 by Chippewa Publishing

  2nd Edition published in 2008 by Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  3rd Edition

  Copyright © 2016 Bianca D’Arc

  Published by Hawk Publishing, LLC

  Smashwords Edition May 2016

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Dedication & Author’s Note

  This book, now in its third edition, was first published in 2003. The second edition came out in 2008 and was greatly expanded from the original short story, to a novella. There have been no substantial chances since the second edition except the change of publishing houses and ISBN numbers. Otherwise, the story remains the same.

  And the original dedication still stands…

  With deepest appreciation to my family, who have stood by me through all my career choices. Thanks also to my readers, who make each day a joy and give me a reason to keep writing.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication & Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Excerpt from Phantom Desires

  About the Author

  Other Books by Bianca D’Arc

  Marc LaTour is the Master vampire. Kelly is the new Gal Friday at the winery her best friend and her new husband own. Marc is obsessed with Kelly, though he doubts he could be so lucky as to finally find his One after over six hundred years of searching. Still, he reacts with jealousy when his old friend and fellow Master comes for a visit.

  When upstart vampire in Marc’s territory issues a challenge to Marc’s leadership, it will be a fight to the death, but Marc knows he has much to live for... if Kelly turns out to be his One.

  Chapter One

  Kelly sat back in her office chair, staring at the computer screen. A heavy sigh ruffled the wisps of hair fringing her forehead. Things at the vineyard had been in upheaval since the Master vampire of the region, Marc LaTour, had moved in. Well, at least for her.

  The blasted man seemed to be there every time she turned around, watching her with those dark, mysterious, ancient eyes. Since she worked in the evenings to be on call during most of the hours when her best friend, Lissa, and her new husband, Atticus, needed her, she had precious few moments of daylight when Marc couldn’t corner her.

  Just last night he’d dangled that damned yellow Lamborghini in front of her again, revving the engine as he brought it out of the mansion’s twelve-bay garage.

  “Just taking your car for a spin, ma petite,” he’d called to her from the driver’s seat. “Wouldn’t you like to join me?”

  “No, thank you.” She’d been as firm as possible and turned away as he laughed. The hardest part was she’d have loved to take a drive in the expensive machine. It was the man she needed to avoid if she wanted to keep her sanity.

  She’d heard the sports car roar down the driveway a minute later. Marc infuriated her. He’d attempted to give her the car as a gift, which she’d flatly refused, but he persisted. He was like a dog with a bone, and she was the one whose nerves were being chewed on.

  Kelly had moved in to one of the many guest rooms at the mansion a few weeks after Atticus and Lissa were married. Her lease on a small apartment in the city had come up for renewal, and she took the opportunity to move out. She’d never enjoyed the hour-long commute each way from the city to the vineyard. She’d been working for Lissa and Atticus since shortly before their wedding as the couple’s assistant. It made sense for her to move into the mansion where she worked and one of her best friends lived. They certainly had plenty of room in the grand building.

  Things had rolled along well until Marc showed up with the yellow sports car and a suitcase in tow. Marc had apparently decided, in his high-handed way, that he needed to move in with his friends while his own house was being renovated. Atticus and Marc were long-time associates and close friends.

  They were also both immortal.

  They’d known each other longer than Kelly had been alive. Centuries, in fact. It still boggled her mind to think that her best friend, Lissa, was now as immortal as her new husband. The thought of living forever was intriguing—even mildly tantalizing—but not practical for Kelly. Just the thought of drinking blood made her shiver. No, she preferred to live a normal life without the need to drink blood. Well, as normal as it could be when one of her best friends was a vampire.

  Kelly returned to work, whiling away the hours until sunset when Lissa and Atticus would awaken. Marc, too, unfortunately. Not that he was unattractive. In fact, he was one of the most devastatingly handsome men she’d ever met, but he was way out of her league.

  She sat back, staring at the screen again, lost in thought. Kelly jumped when a breath of warm air sizzled past her ear.

  It was Marc, of course. He was hovering close, just over her shoulder. She could feel him, though he hadn’t made a sound as he approached. Only now did she hear his slow breaths and the deliberate way he inhaled her scent as if he was smelling a rare perfume.

  “I thought they made it clear to you that I’m not a snack.”

  “Mmm, I quite agree.” He dipped his head lower, his stubbly cheek rubbing along her neck, raising goose bumps. “I imagine you’d be a full seven-course meal.” He punctuated his words by licking the sensitive skin just over her rapidly beating jugular. “Ah, l’aparatif c’est marvelieux. A very satisfying feast for the senses at that.”

  The man had licked her! She could hardly believe it. She was barely suppressing shivers that wanted to course down her spine. It was devastating to realize they were shivers of excitement, not revulsion.

  This had to stop. The man was a steamroller and if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up flat. Flat on her back, that is, with him possessing every last inch of her body, her blood and her sanity.

  “Mr. LaTour!” She twirled her rolling office chair around, making him move back. “For the last time, I’m not on the menu.”

  His dark gaze blazed down at her, humor in its depths. “My proper title is Master, but you can call me Marc, ma cherie.”

  She rolled her eyes, putting on a brave front. “I call no man master.”

  “Ah, but, ma petite, I’m not just a man. For centuries now, I’ve been something more…and less.” He turned thoughtful as he reflected on just what he was at this point in his long, lonely existence.

  “I know what you are.” Kelly jumped to her feet, emphasizing her words with a rudely pointing finger, but he liked her fire. “You’re a womanizer, a scoundrel and someone who
believes rules don’t apply to him.”

  She was working up a fine head of steam, and Marc enjoyed the show. Kelly was adorable when she was in a temper. It was just one more thing that fascinated him about this petite, complex, mortal woman.

  “Sadly, you’re right about some of that. I’ve never followed rules, cherie, because for many years, I’ve been the one who makes them. Alas, I admit to being a bit of a scoundrel as well, but I do object to the term ‘womanizer’. While it is true I enjoy taking my sustenance from females more than males, I always leave them well satisfied and with no complaints. In fact, they rarely even remember me.” Again, that odd pang of something that could be regret sounded through him. He shrugged it off and stepped into her personal space, crowding close and tipping her chin up so he could look deep into her pretty eyes.

  “I bet you would remember me though, ma petite. It would be difficult to cloud your fascinating mind, and I believe I like the idea of you thinking of me years into the future, for I will most certainly be thinking of you. You are…” his voice dropped to a low whisper, “…eminently memorable, mademoiselle.”

  He leaned in, dipping his head as if to kiss her. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away. She was as trapped as he was. He’d been dreaming of her for weeks now—wanting to know the taste of her lips, the feel of her tongue and the passion of her kiss.

  “Is there anything I can help you with, Marc?” Lissa’s loud voice sounded from the doorway, startling Kelly back to her senses and away from the outrageous invitation in his eyes. Kelly moved, putting space between them as quickly as she could manage on wobbly legs.

  Lissa strolled into the room to stand next to Kelly, indicating without words that she would protect her human friend, even from the Master. Kelly knew it was a gutsy move, considering that Lissa was newly turned, and Marc had centuries of experience on her. But the two women had been friends since college and were closer than sisters. They’d watched each other’s backs for many years. Kelly knew Lissa would do anything for her, just as she’d do anything for her friend.

  Kelly was the only one of their old study group that knew what Lissa had become, though the others had dutifully inspected her new husband and wished them well. They were all close, but Kelly and Lissa were best friends. It had always been that way, since the moment they’d met in an advanced math class all those years ago.

  “No, nothing you can help me with, fledgling.” Marc’s smile was respectful, but just a touch mocking as he reached out and raised Kelly’s hand to his lips. “Until later, cherie.” He left the room as silently as he’d come, leaving the two women to themselves.

  Kelly dropped into her office chair with a troubling mix of relief and frustration. “Thanks, Lis.”

  “If he gives you any trouble, you tell me, okay? I may not be up to his weight class, but my Atticus can certainly kick his butt⎯and will⎯if he doesn’t abide by our rules in our home.”

  Kelly reached out to touch her friend’s hand. “I’m okay, but I appreciate the offer. I’ll let you know if he gets too far out of line.”

  Chapter Two

  “My bride is not very happy with you, Marc.” Atticus poured two glasses of deep red wine and handed one to his companion. The fermented fruit of the vine was the only thing that connected their kind to daylight—that was both their yearning and their pain. It was the one thing that could offer them ease and a modicum of healing. “Can’t you just leave her little mortal friend alone?”

  Marc schooled his expression, but felt the turmoil of conflict in his heart. “I’m not really sure I can. She calls to me in a way I’ve never experienced in all my years.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “But I won’t hurt her. You know me better than that. Besides, I have bigger fish to fry. Atticus, I need you to step into the role of Master of this region.”

  “Isn’t that your job? You know I’m enjoying every moment I have with my new mate. We’re still newlyweds after all. If I were Master of this region, the job would require a lot of work away from Lissa, and I’m a little too selfish to part from her for very long.”

  “Don’t you see? Having found your mate makes you the perfect candidate to replace me. The rest of our kind see you as more stable and more powerful just by virtue of having found a mate. That upstart Gibson would never dare challenge you, though the time is fast approaching when he will challenge me. I don’t want to have to kill him. The job just isn’t that important to me anymore. I’m tired, Atticus. I’ve earned my rest.”

  “That sounds suspiciously final, Marc. Don’t tell me you’re considering—”

  “Don’t say it.” Marc wearily raised one hand. “No, I’m not suicidal, but I want what you have, Atticus. You’ve found your one and only. You have purpose and happiness in your life. It’s been far too long since I’ve truly enjoyed my endless years on this earth. Being a Master used to be enough, but after seeing you and your mate together, I realize how empty my world truly is.” He polished off his wine and sat back. “I want purpose. I don’t want to just exist anymore. I want a little joy in my life, a little happiness. Is that wrong?”

  Atticus regarded him with serious eyes. “It’s not wrong, Marc, but I’ll share with you what I’ve never told another soul. When I found Lissa, I was ready to die. I was nearly gone in fact.” Marc wasn’t as shocked by the revelation as he should have been. He’d sensed Atticus had been reaching the point of no return, even as he neared it himself. “As you know, everyone else aboard that mini-bus died in the initial few moments of the wreck. I took a support beam through the chest, very near my heart.”

  “Sacre bleu!”

  “Only Lissa lived of those on board, and I was ready to let myself bleed out and end it all, but then I thought about her. I barely knew her, but she’d caught my attention during the short drive. Still, I had no idea she would turn out to be my mate. I just knew I didn’t want to see her die. I pulled that beam out of my chest and brought her to safety. I struggled to save her, but the moment I tasted her essence, I knew she was special. When we made love…” Atticus trailed off, seemingly lost in the memories of that moment, “…our minds, our hearts, our very souls joined and I knew she was the One I’d been waiting for through all these centuries.” Atticus shifted his gaze back to Marc. “My point in telling you all this is that I didn’t expect to find her. I’d given up hope. Much, as I suspect, you are on the verge of doing. My advice to you is to just not give up.”

  “I will try, my friend, but I do not dare hope that lightning will strike in the same place twice. You have found your mate after centuries of searching. I fear my search is not yet at an end, but my patience and willingness to go on alone is nearing that point.”

  “Don’t give up, Marc. She’s out there.”

  “I had hope…” Marc hesitated, which wasn’t like him.

  “What?”

  “When I first saw your wife’s friend, Kelly, I had hope that she might be—” Marc turned away, reaching for the wine decanter with less than graceful movements. “But it is a silly hope. I could not be that fortunate.”

  “Marc, there’s something I think you should know.”

  The somber, tense tone of Atticus’s voice alerted Marc to the serious nature of what his friend had to impart.

  “You know Lissa has some psychic ability,” Atticus began, seeming unsure of how to break his news. Marc grew even more concerned. “Shortly after we met, Lissa had a vision. We were closely linked at the time and I actually saw it too. Marc, the vision was of Kelly—covered in blood. She was dying, and we both felt that it was no accident. She is in very real danger.”

  Marc felt his tension level double, then double again. Nothing and no one would threaten Kelly. He would see to it.

  “It’s one of the many reasons we convinced her to move in here, where we could keep an eye on her,” Atticus continued while Marc seethed. “Aside from the fact that she has knowledge of our existence and had to be watched anyway, Lissa hoped that keeping her close would hel
p us protect her.”

  “You should have told me at once!” Marc exploded, unable to hold his temper any longer. Atticus didn’t deserve the full brunt of his outburst. Marc did his best to rein it in. “I expect to know the minute your mate sees anything else. And from now on, I will be keeping a close watch on Kelly. Nothing must happen to her. Do you hear me?”

  “I do, old friend.” Atticus looked at him with both compassion and sadness. “But what if you are the threat? Marc, she was covered in blood and her neck—” Atticus swallowed as his eyes glazed in memory. “Her throat was in shreds as if an animal had savaged her with his teeth. Lissa didn’t recognize it, but I’ve seen that once before in my years.”

  “Alexandra,” Marc said knowingly, flopping into his chair, defeat in every line of his body. “When Viktor went mad and savaged her. I remember it too, my friend. It was a sight so horrible, I will never forget.”

  “In the vision, Kelly had the same wounds, Marc. And there was too much blood. I don’t see how we can save her life if that is truly to be her fate. Even turning her might not save her with that kind of trauma.”

  The men were silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.

  “We will keep her safe,” Marc said finally, the steel returning to his backbone even as his stomach tensed with worry. “Between us, we can keep watch over her. If it is as you suspect and one of our Brotherhood will attack her, it cannot happen during the day. And if both of us watch her by night, if either one of us is the threat, the other can subdue him.”