“Alive? Very much so. Though, if I had known he’d attacked you, I might not have left him that way.”
Tatiana yawned, relaxing once more, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over her at his possessive tone. Her eyes closed dreamily. “I’m so tired that I don’t think I can walk.”
Marcello rolled, wrapping his limbs around her. She smiled, looking up at him through her lowered lids. She felt their bodies move with supernatural speed. The next moment, they were lying on the bed, and Marcello was pulling a thick coverlet over their bodies.
“Get the light, would you?” she murmured sleepily.
Marcello smiled. The look made her heart catch. It was the last thing she saw as the fire was smothered. The bedchamber was thrown into complete darkness.
Marcello lay on his back, not touching her, placing his hands behind his head. Tatiana sleepily gravitated toward him. He stiffened in surprise as she wove her leg over his thigh. Her hand crept up his chest and her head burrowed along his side.
Marcello waited, almost too afraid to move. Hesitantly, he lowered his arm, letting it settle protectively over her back. She moaned, snuggling closer. He felt her naked body, so soft and warm against him. A small smile of contentment and wonder came to his lips. For the first time in over a century, he imagined he was almost completely happy.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Marcello’s eyes narrowed in anger as he stared at Tatiana. She pulled away from his arms and sat up with the sheet wrapped around her body. His happiness from the night before faded into black oblivion as he watched her. She showed no sign of affection toward him, gave no indication that anything had happened.
“Will you keep your word and free Cesare?” she repeated louder. Her back was to him, and her dark hair wildly spilled over her shoulders.
Bitterly, Marcello beckoned his servitor. He glared at her back. Anger and hurt made him say, “A professional would’ve collected the debt up front.”
Tatiana gasped, and he was almost sorry he’d allowed the words to pass his lips. Her round jade eyes turned to him. “Then, you will not keep your word?”
The door opened. Tatiana jolted in surprise. Marcello stood and crossed to the wardrobe. He was well aware of Tatiana’s eyes on his naked body but did not care. He grabbed a black silk robe and lightly pulled it over his arms. Cinching the belt, he turned to Cesare. “I release you, servitor.”
Tatiana watched in amazement. Cesare began to bow only to stop. The whites of his eyes filled in with a dark brown as if stroked to life by an artist’s brush. The man jolted in surprise, his mouth agape as he looked all around.
Cesare looked at the half-naked woman in surprise. Tatiana blushed, trying to see if recognition dawned on his face. There was nothing.
Marcello watched in silence, noting Tatiana’s hopeful expression. Cesare glanced down at his hands. He knew the man expected them to be old and wrinkled. They had only aged five years, still in the prime of youth. The man looked around in wonder only to turn to the vampire once more.
In very fast Italian that Tatiana couldn’t understand, Cesare said, “Conte Spoleti, my term with you, it is over?”
Marcello motioned to Tatiana but did not look at her. In the same tongue, he answered, “Sì, she has taken your debt for you.”
Cesare lifted his hand into the air. First, he went to Marcello. He took the vampire’s hand and bowed over it. Then, leaning up, he kissed his cheeks in gratitude.
“Thank you, thank you,” Cesare murmured. “Thank you for the life of my sister, Conte. Bless you, bless you.”
Marcello glanced at Tatiana. She didn’t understand the man and stared in confusion. Cesare then turned to Tatiana. He smiled kindly at her, took her hand, and kissed it enthusiastically.
“Grazie!” Cesare kissed her hand another time, squeezing and shaking it in his enthusiasm. “Grazie, angelo!”
Cesare turned to leave them, looking for the door and rushing to it in his excitement.
“Wait,” Tatiana said. The servitor turned at the sound of her voice, his eyebrows furrowing, worried. She looked at Marcello. “You should tell him where he is and give him some money so he can get home.”
Marcello quietly relayed her words. Cesare frowned but nodded. Marcello turned to the wardrobe and grabbed a little bag of coins. He tossed them to the man and waved him away.
“Grazie, Conte, grazie!”
“Tatiana?” Marcello hesitated. She was turned, but he saw she was crying.
“He didn’t know me,” she whispered. “You were right.”
Marcello frowned. Anger and jealousy curled inside of him. He slipped out of his robe and dressed. When he was finished, she hadn’t moved. “Stay here tonight, bella. I go to hire servants and arrange a dinner. Tomorrow, we will entertain guests.”
By the time she looked at the door, he was already gone. Marcello had freed Cesare like she’d asked and though she was happy for the man she couldn’t help her tears. The honorable vampire had settled his debt. Marcello had paid his whore. She was nothing else to him.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Marcello didn’t come home until early morning. He barely said two words to her as he climbed into bed. She wore only a silk robe. Marcello slept in the nude. He did not move to touch her though she waited.
The next evening when they awoke at dusk, Marcello slid silently out of bed. He crossed naked and unashamed to the wardrobe and began laying out a dress for her to wear. Tatiana watched him, yawning, still a little fuzzy from sleep. She rubbed her eyes, blinking wearily as she stared at the gown.
“Get dressed.” Marcello studied her briefly before turning to the wardrobe. “We must greet our guests.”
He stretched his naked arms over his head. His dark hair spilled gorgeously over his shoulders. Her heart fluttered, and she forced her eyes away.
“They are your guests, my lord,” she answered quietly, though she did stand to do as he ordered.
“And you are my...” Marcello hesitated, unsure how to finish. He stopped moving. His hand stayed on a linen shirt in the wardrobe.
“I am your whore,” she flatly stated for him.
Marcello closed his eyes, hating that word because she was so much more than that, but did not correct her.
The gown he laid out for her was a dark green satin, much like the red, only more ornate with wrap-over panels on the narrow skirt. The skirt flared lightly at the hem and hugged tightly around her waist. There was one thick strap going over her shoulders and two smaller ones falling over her arms beneath it. Long white gloves reached past her elbows. Tatiana sighed, going to look at herself in the mirror.
Marcello stepped up behind her. He was fully dressed. His green and gold waistcoat matched the shade of her gown, giving him a hint of color beneath his jacket. His breeches and jacket were black. His hands lifted to her hair as if he would style it. She shook him off.
“I can do it,” she stated simply. Tatiana thought she saw the disappointment in his gaze, but he bowed and stepped away. She grabbed a brush and hairpins from the wardrobe and made quick work of her black locks. When she was done, her hair was tight to her head and adorned with green silk flowers flecked with gold.
“Here,” Marcello said, his voice soft. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy emerald necklace. She shivered as he slid the cold stones around her throat. The beautiful necklace hugged tightly to her neck.
Tatiana wanted to cry, but instead lifted her chin. “Another payment, my lord?”
Marcello tensed, and she instantly saw her mistake. His hands fell stiffly to his sides as if he would like nothing more than to strike. A low growl escaped him, and he did not touch her.
“I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. These guests will not put up with your rash tongue as I have. Insult them, bella mia, and they will rip your head off,” Marcello’s narrow gaze glared out at her.
Tatiana nodded. Breathless, she whispered, “I understand.”
“Good.” Marcello turne
d from her and left her alone in the room.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tatiana sat at the head of the formal dining table. Marcello was at the other side. Only if she leaned over could she see him around the large vase of blood red roses in the middle and the dancing flames of candles. To her left were the humans. To her right were the vampires.
It hadn’t been difficult for her to pick out which of their guests were humans and which were not. Only the humans ate the meal and drank the wine set before them. And they seemed completely oblivious to the fact that their undead companions did not.
The humans were bloated noblemen who spoke with authority on many topics but knew nary a thing about one of them. They spoke in English, which was thickened by French accents, in deference to Marcello’s courtesan. Marcello had not flinched as he boldly introduced her as his lover. Tatiana was stunned by the easy way her station fell from his lips, but she kept her face blank the entire time they received guests. She was just thankful he called her il mio amante and not a whore.
The noblemen all sat with their mistresses. They were women of lower standing though they were richly decked in baubles from their benefactors. They wore dresses of expensive silks and satins, trimmed with lace and gaudy amounts of pleats and tucks. The noblemen showed the lovely women off with pride like doll makers show off a porcelain masterpiece they have dressed up and put on display for the world to see. The women didn’t seem to mind their place and in fact flaunted it openly with laughing gaiety that made Tatiana sick to her stomach.
The vampires were more severe in nature and gave her constant chills. Their eyes looked about with a peculiar inner glow that seemed almost green at times. Tatiana knew from experience that they read the mortal guests, listening to their thoughts. A few turned to her, and she was careful to keep her mind blank. Luckily, out of respect to their host, the vampires left her alone. All except the distracting Leandro, who openly stared at her, smiling in a way that left her cold.
Leandro had greeted her with a warm, charming smile and a liquid gaze that dipped over her body as if he knew it intimately. Marcello had stiffened under her hand, but said nothing and did not move to stop him. Tatiana’s heart had fallen in disappointment. Part of her wished he cared enough to be jealous.
The other vampires were mainly an entourage of one vampire, who Marcello introduced as Gio. It seemed Gio was in Paris on business and, as he was from Tuscany like Marcello, he thought to pay Marcello a visit. Gio came laden with many bottles of wine, which they presented to the human guests.
Tatiana wasn’t sure she liked Gio. Though the old vampire was polite, his eyes had a hardened glint in their black depths. His long, straight hair touched his waist and when he smiled, she could see dimples on both cheeks. Tatiana felt he was powerful. He was tall, towering over Marcello by about four inches, and very slender. Like Marcello, he was at the height of impeccably dark fashion.
The conversation was light, but Tatiana ignored it as she forced herself to take small bites of the roasted chicken and even smaller sips of the strong wine. She spent most of the evening fighting off the advances of a man they simply called Lord Adolfe. His small, beady eyes stared at her chest more than her face, to the point that his dark beauty of a companion was beginning to take notice.
On her other side was Gio. His long fingers tapped on the tabletop, smoothing out the wrinkles he made in what could’ve been perceived as boredom. Tatiana sensed better. He seemed only to be biding his time.
“You don’t drink?”
Tatiana blinked in surprise. Her jade eyes moved at the low, sultry sound of Gio’s voice to meet his black eyes. They appeared almost amused with her. She shivered in response.
“Don’t worry, child, your drink is not tainted.” Gio shot her a ghost of a smile. “You belong to Marcello. None here would dare to harm you.”
A cold wave of fear shot through her as she looked at the unsuspecting humans. She began to speak when she felt a hand rubbing its way up her thigh and froze. With a frown, she grabbed her fork and delicately slipped it beneath the table. With a rapid jab, she stabbed Lord Adolfe in his meaty hand. He yelped in pain, turning to glare at Tatiana as he shot up in this chair.
Instantly Marcello stood, his dark eyes narrowing in from across the table. His actions prompted the rest of the vampire guests to stand. The humans stopped talking, their smiles fading at the seriousness of their host and his pale friends.
“Bella mia?” Tatiana heard Marcello’s voice in her head, and she jolted in mild surprise.
“I’m fine,” she thought, trying to direct it at him but not knowing if he could hear her. She leaned over to meet his eyes. He smiled at her and nodded, signifying he’d heard her. Tatiana was surprised to discover it had worked.
One by one, the vampires took their seats, following Marcello’s lead. To Tatiana’s surprise, the humans took up again like nothing had happened. Gio smiled at her and winked. Leandro nodded his head when he caught her gazing in his direction. She couldn’t get over how much Marcello looked like his twin. But, as she studied them, she realized the subtle differences.
Marcello leaned on his fist. His elbow planted firmly on the arm of his chair. He studied her quietly over the distance. She felt his dark gaze moving over her and shivered. Taking up her glass, she took a long drink. The wine curled in her stomach and loosened her tight nerves.
By the time servants came to remove the plates, the humans were nearly falling over drunk. The vampires just smiled, watching them, talking pleasantly with them. A sick sense of dread came over Tatiana. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like how this night ended.
“Tell me, Marcello,” Gio said. “Have you seen my old friend, Jirí?”
Marcello slowly shook his head and Tatiana saw Leandro look down to study his longer nails. The brothers looked uncomfortable. “No, not for many years now.”
“Who’s Jirí?” Tatiana asked before she could stop herself.
“She doesn’t know?” Leandro turned curiously to his brother before leaning to address Tatiana. “He is our father.”
Marcello stiffened. He dropped his arm and waved his fingers at an attendant standing motionless behind him. The servant bowed and turned. Suddenly, the sound of violins drifted in from the other room.
Gio smiled. His eyes narrowed on the dark beauty before him. Without him having to say a word, she stood and walked around the table to him. Gio rose, taking her arm. Lord Adolfe’s mouth fell open slightly, but he didn’t dare protest as Gio shot him a look of warning and led the woman to the front hall for a dance.
Lord Adolfe turned to her. His smarmy grin again lit his lecherous face, and he seemed to forget all about her stabbing him. It was obvious he wasn’t used to being refused.
“Mademoiselle, would you do me the honor of—” he began.
“No,” Tatiana stated loudly with finality. Lord Adolfe gasped. She ignored him, instead turning toward the soft sound of laughter behind her.
Tatiana looked up at Marcello. He gave her a half smile and bowed to her. Lifting her hand to his, she let him lead her from the seat. She noticed that other couples had gathered on the dance floor, mainly the vampires stealing away the drunken men’s women. The human men were lethargic, nearly asleep in their chairs.
Tatiana shivered, drawing closer to Marcello’s chest. He tried to dance with her, but she couldn’t move. She looked earnestly up at him, her round jade eyes trying to be brave.
“Please,” she whispered. “Let me retire. I don’t want to watch this.”
“Watch what, bella mia?” Marcello asked. At his insistence, she allowed him to lead her to the gentle, beautiful music.
“I don’t want to watch you kill these people,” she directed at him, hoping he’d hear it. He did and stiffened.
“You do think me a monster, don’t you?” he mused quietly. He didn’t speak again, pulling her closer to his chest as they danced.
As the night wore on the dancing didn’t stop. The men st
ill sat with their eyes in a stupor. The wine in her veins made her forget all but Marcello and the movements of his lithe body close to hers. He didn’t speak as he wove a spell around them. She almost forgot there were others in the room.
“Marcello, here.”
Tatiana turned to see a blond vampire who’d come with Gio. He was offering his dance partner’s wrist to Marcello as if it was most natural to do so. She glanced around, seeing that the other vampires fed on the drunken women. The women moaned, rubbing themselves against the immortal creatures who kept them enthralled. Some of them had several bite marks in various places. Almost in a trance, the vampires would switch partners, only to drink from a new victim before switching again. Tatiana had no desire for the other vampires to drink from her. She moved closer to Marcello.
“You must drink,” the blond one said. “You must try her. Gio’s wine is strong in her veins.”
Marcello looked uncomfortable. Without knowing where the words came from, Tatiana pushed the woman’s wrist away from them and said, “He already has a meal.”
Marcello stiffened in concealed surprise and turned to her. The blond vampire smiled in appreciation of her boldness. His eyes edged with a bit of jealousy until she realized he’d wanted Marcello to switch partners with him.
Tatiana kept her eyes on the blond vampire, more out of fear than anything else. To prove her point, she wrapped an arm around Marcello’s neck and pulled him to her throat. Her fingers wound into his silky hair. Marcello had no choice but to bite her. At her comment, the others stopped dancing to watch.
She smiled at them, letting them see she belonged only to one of them. She wouldn’t be traded about. Leandro frowned at her and turned away. She didn’t have time to think about it as he climbed the stairs and disappeared out the door. A light moan escaped her as Marcello’s lips caressed and sucked at her neck. He pulled back at the sound, biting his lips to heal her, before lifting his cheek in a soft nuzzle against her face.
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