Rare Vintage

by Bianca D’Arc

  “I am mated, Marc. Forgive me, but I have no reason to attack Kelly. In fact, being that she’s my wife’s best friend, I have every reason to protect her.”

  “Then you believe I am the threat.” Marc watched Atticus, glad to know his old friend would speak honestly with him after all these years—even on a topic as unpalatable as this.

  “I believe you could be. You, or any of our brethren.”

  Marc sighed. “So the problem remains. To be safe, she should have two watchers at all times.”

  “She will not agree to it, Marc. She is as stubborn as my wife. Perhaps more so.”

  “Then we don’t tell her. But starting now, we will watch her. Your mate can help too. Kelly will not be alone if we can help it.”

  “And we also have electronic monitors in all the rooms. She doesn’t know about them.”

  “Dieu! I didn’t know about them either, Atticus. Since when did you become James Bond?”

  Atticus laughed. “Don’t try to tell me you’re not having your home wired for sound and pictures as we speak. I’m sure you’re upgrading whatever you had there to begin with during this renovation. You’d be a fool not to.”

  “You know me too well,” Marc agreed with a grin. “All right, I assume you’ll let me in on your monitoring system?”

  Atticus surprised him by tossing a small black box his way. It was about the size of an old transistor radio and had similar buttons and knobs.

  “I intended to get your help on this all along. There is simply too much time where Lissa and I are—ahem—otherwise occupied. We need help if we’re to keep Kelly safe.”

  “You mean while you’re off making love to your wife, Kelly’s vulnerable.” Marc’s mouth thinned into a grim line as he thought of the unknown threat. “I’ll get help on this. Perhaps Ian would be suitable to take a turn on monitors while you and Lissa are offline.”

  “Better yet⎯” Atticus spoke as he poured more wine for both of them, “⎯Dmitri will be in town for a few days. I’ve invited him to stay here. Since he’ll be close and has a reasonable excuse for being here, we’ll ask him to help. He’s always been a trustworthy man. When he goes home, Ian can take over.”

  Chapter Three

  Professor Dmitri Belakov, history teacher and Master vampire of his own domain in the Midwest, arrived a few days later. Atticus, Lissa, Ian, Marc and Kelly—since she couldn’t be left unguarded, though she had no idea the men were taking turns looking after her—met Dmitri at a private air strip not far from the vineyard. He’d flown himself in a very costly small jet that allowed him to travel from the middle of the country to the West coast in a matter of a few hours.

  Marc had to be on hand to greet his fellow Master. The Brotherhood was a loose organization, but they did like to observe tradition. When one Master arrived in another’s territory it was only polite to make his presence known through official channels. More than that, Dmitri and Marc were old friends. They’d lived and worked together in centuries past, before settling in the United States and becoming Masters in their own right.

  Atticus and Ian had been part of the old group as well. They’d spent a few merry centuries cavorting across Europe and the Middle East, settling for decades at a time in different cities along the way. They’d watched each other’s backs and shared both pleasure and peril too many times to count. They’d formed strong bonds of friendship that could never be dismissed.

  “It’s good to see you again, mon ami.” Marc gave Dmitri the traditional European greeting of a kiss to both cheeks.

  “It was time to visit my old friends. It’s nice being Master of my domain, but there are not many of our kind on the prairie.” The men laughed and then led the newcomer over to meet Lissa and Kelly, who’d waited by the cars.

  Dmitri—much to Marc’s amusement—made a fuss over Lissa, annoying Atticus in the process. It was all part of the game these old comrades had played many times in the past. Of course, now things were different. One of their group had found his mate, and all the others were both happy for him and jealous as hell. Such a drastic change deserved a little good-natured ribbing.

  “Enchante, madame,” Dmitri purred, lifting Lissa’s hand to his lips for a lingering kiss. Marc had watched his friend perfect that Slavic charm over the centuries, and it didn’t hurt that Dmitri was easy on the eyes. Women had fallen for his dark good looks for a long time, and Lissa seemed to be no exception as she murmured a return greeting.

  “You ride with Marc in the Lamborghini. I think we’ll all be happier at the house where we can relax.” Atticus made a show of appropriating his wife’s hand and tucking it firmly into the crook of his arm.

  Atticus ushered his wife into their car, and Kelly got into the back seat, but Marc noticed the look of longing she directed at the yellow sports car when she thought he wasn’t looking. He could see how much she wanted to ride in it, or better yet, drive it, but she denied herself the pleasure—denying him in the process.

  The car had come to represent something bigger. It had come to symbolize the ongoing struggle between them. He tempted her, and she refused. He flirted with her, and she rebuffed him. He wanted her, and she pretended to be unaffected, but he knew it was just an act. The true victory would be when she finally broke down and admitted it.

  It hadn’t taken long for Dmitri to realize something was going on between Marc and Kelly. He asked about it during the drive to the vineyard.

  “So who’s the girl?” Dmitri’s question was not unwelcome, but Marc preferred not to discuss the more annoying aspects of his relationship with the delectable Kelly. Still, he understood Dmitri’s interest in how Kelly fit into their little group. He knew Lissa was Atticus’s mate, but Kelly was unclaimed and yet part of the intimate circle. Marc should have expected the question sooner or later.

  “She is Lissa’s best friend. She had the unfortunate luck to see me feeding from a man who had attacked Lissa before she moved in with Atticus. Her mind is too strong to cloud sufficiently, considering that Lissa refused to break ties with her, or any of her mortal friends for that matter.”

  “So you’re watching her?”

  “She’s working for Atticus at the vineyard and yes, we are watching her, but for more than just her knowledge of our existence. There is a further complication that I wished to discuss with you before we get to the house.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Lissa is slightly psychic.” Marc glanced over to gauge his friend’s reaction to the news. “She had a vision of Kelly, covered in blood, her throat savaged—most likely by one of our kind.”

  “And you think to protect her from this possible future?”

  “I must!” That came out a little more emphatically than Marc would have wished, but Dmitri only raised one dark brow in his direction. “We decided to have two of us with her at all times during the dark hours. Atticus and Lissa are the two most unlikely to be the culprits, so they are primarily responsible for keeping tabs on her, but they are also newlyweds…”

  “Ah, I see.” Dmitri nodded with a wide grin. “Say no more. It will be no hardship to help keep an eye on the lovely Kelly.”

  “So long as it’s just an eye. She is Lissa’s best friend, and I have been strictly ordered to keep my hands to myself. That goes double for you, my friend.”

  “You? The great Master? Ordered around in your own domain. What has this world come to?” Dmitri burst out laughing as Marc had intended. Better to treat this all as a laughing matter, as long as Dmitri got the message.

  “Laugh if you like, but you’ll soon see that Lissa has sharp fangs when it comes to her mortal friends, and Atticus will do just about anything she asks. Since I am living with them while my house is being renovated, I can do no other than follow the rules they lay out for their house. They’ve put Kelly firmly off the menu.”

  “A shame.” Dmitri gazed out the window at the passing scenery. “She is a beautiful woman.”

  Marc felt his hackles rise and did his bes
t to fight the reaction.

  “Beautiful, yes. But also off limits. N’est-ce pas?”

  “Oui, mon ami. I understand and will abide by your wishes in your territory.”

  At the vineyard, they gathered in the large living room while Atticus poured out one of his prize-winning vintages for them. Kelly felt a little conspicuous being the only mortal in the room, but Lissa had asked her specifically to stay so she wouldn’t be the only woman present. Six of one or a half dozen of the other, Kelly thought, realizing that women in general were probably far too preoccupied about being the odd woman out in any situation.

  She shrugged, accepted the delicious wine and sat back to listen to what promised to be a fascinating conversation. Kelly had thought a lot about immortality since Lissa’s wedding and subsequent change. She’d worked at the vineyard for some time and dealt daily with Atticus, Lissa and even Marc, but she’d never really had the opportunity to just sit and observe Atticus talking with his friends—especially not friends this old.

  “So what brings you to California?” Atticus asked Dmitri as he handed him a glass of burgundy.

  Dmitri frowned as he accepted the crystal goblet. “My house was sold.”

  “What?” Marc was the first to voice the confusion that filled the room.

  “I thought it was clever to keep my stronghold beneath that old farmhouse,” Dmitri said with a trace of bitterness. “I had an agreement with the farmer and his descendents and it worked well for centuries, but the last of the line never married and recently passed on to the next realm. His land was sold before I could act. Damned lawyers.” The curse was muttered into his glass as Dmitri took a bracing swallow of the delicious wine.

  Atticus laughed, drawing attention. “Now, now, Dmitri. I seem to recall you played at being a barrister once upon a time.”

  “That was a very long time ago, Atticus, as you well know. I’m a professor of history now.”

  “So where were you that you didn’t know of the goings on until after the sale?” Ian asked. “I thought the University kept you close to your territory most of the time.”

  “I was on sabbatical last semester, visiting friends in Europe, supposedly researching a book on the Tudors.”

  “A lusty lot they were, eh? Nothing like the current insipid batch,” Marc said, the spark of memory in his eye. It floored Kelly to think that these men might actually have known those long-dead kings and queens of England.

  “You’ve got that right,” Dmitri said, raising his glass to Marc. “To Henry.”

  The men repeated the toast, and Kelly shot a wide-eyed look to Lissa, who looked just as surprised. Lissa shrugged and raised her glass as well, joining in the toast as Kelly did the same.

  “Ah, but I see we’ve shocked the ladies. Forgive me.” Dmitri bowed his head slightly in Lissa and Kelly’s direction.

  “Come off it, Dmitri,” Marc chastised his friend. “We all know you were going for shock value. It’s so rare that we get to speak freely among mortals, or recent converts.” He nodded to Lissa. “Dmitri currently peddles his knowledge of the past as a history professor, if you can believe it.”

  “I am writing a book on Henry and his descendents for the University, but I didn’t really need to do research on the subject. My trip was more for pleasure than anything else,” Dmitri clarified.

  “So you actually knew Henry the Eighth of England?” Kelly asked, feeling brave.

  “Damned right he knew him. This fool,” Marc gestured toward Dmitri with his goblet, “was sent to England in hopes of marrying into the family. Just because he was born the nephew of old Ivan.”

  “Who wasn’t so Terrible,” Ian and Atticus said in unison, deadpan. A moment later all four men burst into laughter. It was apparently an old joke among them.

  Kelly had always liked history and if she remembered correctly, Ivan the Terrible had been coroneted the first Tsar of Russia at roughly the same time that Henry VIII died in England. Was it possible she was speaking to Russian royalty? Judging by the sparkle in Dmitri’s eyes as he held her gaze, it was more than possible. It was fact.

  “I can only assume by the charming look of horror on your pretty face that you’ve figured out just how old and decrepit I truly am,” Dmitri said, giving her a jaunty salute.

  The man was hardly decrepit. He was a hunk. Gorgeous, aristocratic features, sparkling, lively eyes and a muscular figure that was everything masculine proved he was anything but decrepit, though he was very, very old.

  Kelly realized that everyone was looking at her expectantly. She had no idea how to respond, but she had to come up with something.

  “I take it none of the Tudor heirs would have you for a husband, so you must’ve still been…mortal…at that time.” She’d almost said “human”, and she knew by now how much they hated that distinction.

  “Ah. You see to the heart of the matter. I was indeed mortal when I went to that sceptered isle. When I eventually returned to Mother Russia, I was not. But that is a tale for another day.” Dmitri polished off the remainder of his wine and rose to pour himself a refill.

  “So what are you going to do about your home?” Marc asked, and Kelly was grateful for his change of subject.

  She’d unwittingly hit on a sore point of some kind. Or maybe it was just too personal a thing to share with a new acquaintance. She wasn’t sure if the story of how someone became a vampire was a taboo subject or not. She’d have to ask Atticus about it the next time she caught him alone. Or better yet, ask Lissa to ask her husband.

  Dmitri settled into his chair in a lazy sprawl. “I have no choice but to wait and see who moves in above me, then gauge my next move from there. I won’t give up my home easily, but if there is no other way, I may soon be looking for a new place to live.”

  “Isn’t it kind of…uh…quiet, living out on the prairie by yourself?” Lissa asked. Kelly had talked with Lissa about the way she seemed to know all kinds of things she shouldn’t and was shocked to learn that Lissa and her new husband shared their thoughts. It seemed Lissa was calling once again on the knowledge of her new spouse.

  “I value my privacy,” Dmitri answered in gentle tones. “There are not as many of us out there and my territory is larger, if less populated. There are lots of other supernaturals though, and therefore safety is something I cannot take for granted. That’s why I built my home underground. There is little possibility anyone—be they were, fey or mage—could sneak up on me where I currently live. I like the arrangement, and I will be very put out if the new owner proves troublesome.”

  Kelly didn’t like to think about the poor person who’d unwittingly bought the Master vampire’s lair. Dmitri might be handsome and urbane on the surface, but she had no doubt he could be every bit as savage as Marc. She would never forget the sight of Marc’s fangs, red with fresh blood as he lifted them out of a man’s neck.

  Sure, the man had been crazy and he’d tried to kill both Lissa and Kelly only moments before, but still, it was a rude introduction to the world of the supernatural. Kelly had just had another. Dmitri’s casual mention of “were, fey or mage” made her wonder just what—or who⎯else might be out there. But she wasn’t going to ask. No, she’d already made enough waves for one night.

  Chapter Four

  When the party broke up about an hour before dawn, Marc found Kelly on the veranda. The night was still, the stars cold in the dark sky. It was the time of night he loved best.

  “I see we had the same idea.” He spoke in low tones to compliment the quiet of the pre-dawn hour, but Kelly still jumped. He’d snuck up on her again, much to his amusement. He loved the way she gasped when he caught her unawares.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  He liked the breathless quality of her voice. It made him think of forbidden things. Things he’d like to do to her and with her that were put firmly off limits by Atticus and Lissa. Marc would be a poor guest indeed if he took advantage of their hospitality—and their other guest—but oh, how he wi
shed he could forget his principles for a few minutes. Just long enough to see if Kelly’s lips tasted as luscious as they looked.

  “Now is that any way to talk to a fellow lover of the night?” He moved to stand next to her at the wall overlooking the peaceful vineyard in the distance. “You do love it, don’t you? The dark right before dawn. The silent hour of the night becoming day. I mean you no harm, Kelly. Surely you know that. Don’t fear me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you, Marc, but you do make me uncomfortable.” Kelly turned her gaze to the vineyard. “To answer your question, I do love this time of night. I never realized how beautiful it was before. I was always asleep at this time, before I came to work for Atticus.”

  “And your world has been turned upside down by the discovery of the supernatural.”

  She sighed, and he longed to put his arm around her. The instinct to comfort this puzzling female was different and unlike anything he’d felt in centuries.

  “What did Dmitri mean when he talked about ‘were, fey or mage’ tonight?”

  “Caught that, did you?” Marc liked her quick mind. It was one of the more enticing aspects of her personality he’d come to appreciate during his time at Atticus’s home. “We are but one of the many kinds of supernatural beings that inhabit this realm. There are werecreatures of all kinds, a few fey who occasionally visit or some that even prefer this mortal realm to their own and a very few mortals who have magical abilities. Your friend Lissa has a tiny bit of magic within her. You call it psychic ability, but it’s really just a manifestation of mortal magic.”

  “Psychic ability is magic.” Kelly repeated his statement as if considering its flavor. “Huh. But she’s not a magician. She can’t produce a rabbit out of a hat on command.”

  “It’s true, Lissa doesn’t seem to have control over when or how she receives visions, but there are some mortals who are very adept at controlling their inner magic and some gifted people who can tap into the magic of other realms.”