Chapter Forty-Six
Broderick unchained her from the wall and walked her by her elbow through the stone passageways as if nothing had happened, as if they had not kept her prisoner for she-didn’t-know-how long, as if they hadn’t kidnapped her. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a bundle of cooked meat and bread. Handing it to her, he said, “Take this and eat it when you can. It is normal that you won’t be hungry for several days. Domin’s blood is potent. It is possible for you to live weeks on it. But, if you eat food, you will feel more like yourself.”
“I don’t even remember what myself feels like,” she chuckled bitterly. Tatiana took it and clutched it to her chest. She didn’t feel like eating. A rock was nestled in her stomach. All she wanted was to lie down and sleep for an eternity. Instead, she followed the lycan through the caves. She was silent until they reached the opening, leading up onto the earth.
Broderick stopped, his vivid eyes looking her over. “You are free to go. I have done for you all I can.”
Tatiana stared at him, sensing he wanted to say more. She was too tired to ask, so she merely waited.
“Say the word, and I will give you my protection,” Broderick stated. His eyes dipped over her thin, pale frame. There was only a mild attraction in his gaze when he looked at her, an animalistic lust that had nothing to do with tender feelings.
“I don’t understand why you brought me here for this,” Tatiana muttered. “I don’t know why you would’ve tried to balance my powers instead of just killing me. It would’ve been more humane if you’d just killed me and been done with the whole thing. Right now, I’d much prefer death to living.”
A small smile lit his immortal face. He bowed to her, a short, dutiful movement of his head. “As do we all, Miss Sinclair, as do we all.”
Tatiana wondered at his tone. Broderick pointed up toward the opening.
“Leandro awaits you,” he said. “Where you go from here is up to him.”
Tatiana watched Broderick turn on his heels, disappearing into the cave. She had a small vision of him in sunlight, standing before a dark haired woman, and thought that perhaps this wouldn’t be the last time they met. A dark, humorless chuckle escaped her chapped lips.
Holding the food bundle with her teeth, she weakly climbed up and out of the den. She stood, letting the night breeze hit her skin. It pushed her body to delicately swaying. The air alone made her feel better as she reached out with her senses. Feeling a presence behind her, she turned. Leandro sat on a rock, studying her with his unmoving face. For a moment, his brooding expression reminded her of Marcello.
“You are not taking me back to him, are you?” she asked.
“No.” Leandro stood and swiftly glided past her, beginning the long journey down. “I will never give you back to my brother.”
“Why?”
Leandro stopped. Turning his head to her, his body soon followed. In an instant, he was before her. His face leaned close to hers, not touching. Tatiana gasped. His fangs showed between his parted lips as he spoke.
“That, bella donna, is between Marcello and I. It has nothing to do with you, but an old debt I seek to repay.”
“Debt or revenge?” she asked.
Leandro smiled at her observance. “It is all one and the same.”
His eyes flashed, turning black with an emotion so dark and raw it made her nauseous. She began to pant, feeling the demon Leandro hid so well from the world behind his normally careless smile. The vast emptiness of his soul screamed at her, gripping her with his hatred.
“You are my revenge, bella donna,” Leandro said softly. He blinked and his eyes cleared back to their familiar brown as if his intent had never been there. His smile was again careless. “Come.”
Tatiana trembled. She didn’t know why seeing Leandro’s demon would’ve surprised her. She was a fool not for suspecting it earlier. But, if she was wrong about him, was she wrong about Marcello? Did Marcello’s soul glisten as black as his brother’s? She thought of the young Marcello in the garden from her vision, so bright and youthful, encased by sunlight. Was she a fool to think humanity could survive in the body of a demon? That the young man he’d been could dwell inside all forms of darkness and hell and survive for over a century?
Leandro’s sinister, mocking laughter answered her. She didn’t move, and he waited for her to follow him, his eyes reflecting the blue moonlight. All around them, it was peaceful, quiet.
Without the knowledge of it, one would never suspect that lycans roamed beneath their feet in caves, or that a vampire walked along the surface of the beautiful mountain. For a moment, she felt as if the world stopped moving and everything around her felt dead. The dark night added a rotted death to the trees and ground. It made the shadowed earth appear charred and cold.
“A tutto c'è rimedio, fuorchè alla morte,” Leandro whispered to her. His pale hand lifted with liquid grace, reaching for her from the distance. His long fingers curled, motioning her toward him and she felt her legs obey him, following the silent command. There is a cure for everything, except death.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Marcello lifted his head, not bothering to fight his restraints as he sat on the floor. His hands were chained to the stone wall of the prison within the lycan den. Seeing Domin, he sniffed, smelling the man’s ancient years. He carried with him the odor of knowledge and death. But, there was a fainter scent clinging to his skin. It was the smell of Tatiana.
“Where is she?” Marcello demanded with a growl. His eyes filled with red outrage. He pulled at his bonds, nearly breaking the chains from the walls. “I sense her on you.”
“So possessive of a mortal,” Domin said to the vampire. His light blue eyes looked Marcello over. “Why would you care what happens to a bound human?”
“It is none of your concern, lycan. I marked her. She is mine.” Marcello’s gaze was dark and bloody, battling for control.
Domin looked around the prison, frowning. “Is there something else here with us?”
Marcello smiled ruefully, looking over at the corner where Alice stood. The translucent woman had shown herself to him one night, whipping around him in cold drafts and incessantly waving until he realized she showed him the way to Tatiana. He’d noticed her as the cold presence that surrounded Tatiana whenever she felt threatened. The ghost never spoke to him, only looked at him with her solemn, dejected blue eyes.
He had no idea why she stayed with him, even after he pushed past her to storm inside the lycan den. Alice had not wanted him to go into the cave systems. But, what else could he have done? He’d sensed Tatiana within them and had to try saving her. It was a fool’s errand, and he knew that going in. He’d fought hard, and in the end, it had taken twenty of the elite lycan guards to bring him down.
Domin followed the vampire’s eyes. His senses detected new death though he only saw the wall. “She with you?”
“She is harmless,” Marcello said. As much as Alice’s hovering, endless presence bothered him, he wouldn’t say anything to get her exorcised. “A child who wandered too far from her grave and now mindlessly follows me about like a puppy.”
Marcello saw Alice grimace at him with a forming pout of affront. He ignored her, turning his eyes away.
Domin apparently didn’t feel threatened because he turned his back and ignored the spirit. “I have come to let you go, Marcello.”
Marcello didn’t move.
“Give me your word you will leave here more peaceably than you came. There are those who wouldn’t hesitate to have your heart and your head for the insult you have done us in coming here.” Domin pulled an old key from his pocket and held it up.
“I will not leave without Tatiana. She is mine and I mean to keep her,” Marcello threatened. He knew the old wolf would sense his lie, so he didn’t bother.
“Even more reason for you to go and quickly,” Domin said. “The witch is no longer staying with us. I helped her to balance her gifts as much as I could. She now travels away
from here with your brother.”
“Leandro,” Marcello whispered. His skin prickled in fear. If she was with Leandro, she was in even more danger than in the lycan’s keep.
Domin knew Marcello would cause no more trouble and lifted the key to release him. “They have three nights’ journey on you. I suggest you hurry.”
Marcello nodded. Inside he was desperate, broken. He needed Tatiana back, longed for her with every beat of his undead heart. He wasn’t whole without her. Immortality had become an unbearable curse, more so than before. He went straight to the door, passing Domin without a second glance. The old lycan’s words made him pause.
“And take Alice. I am sure she misses her mistress.”
Marcello nodded again without turning. He felt Alice flitting behind him as he sped with blurring speed through the stone passageways. One thought swam in his head, pushing him onward. He must not fail Tatiana.
Chapter Forty-Eight
A month passed since leaving the lycan den as Leandro took Tatiana with him to Austria and finally to Italy. He forced her to sleep with him in various coffins along the way though he did not move to touch her in all the times they lay together. She felt a coldness within him that wouldn’t be suppressed now that she’d seen inside his dark heart. His face no longer held the charm it had before.
Leandro wasn’t discreet with his human meals in front of her as Marcello had been. He did not try to hide his feeding from her, often taking her with him while he drank from some young woman’s neck. His victims would moan and pant, clinging to him in passion, begging him with their hands until they could no longer lift them from their sides. Tatiana knew he got some sort of perverse pleasure from making her watch. He’d leave the women, near death, but with a chance still in their bodies.
Once, when she dared to ask him why he bothered, he merely smiled and answered enigmatically with a pitiless look in his eyes, “If they are strong and deserving of life, bella donna, they will live. If they are too weak for this world, then they will move on.”
On those rare nights when there was no meal readily available to him—which always had to be a young woman of a certain prettiness and age—Leandro would feed on Tatiana. Her blood was still strong from the lycan’s gift, and the vampire did not need to feed on her as deeply as he did the others.
During those moments, he tried to mesmerize the pain of his bite from her, but Tatiana always held him out. His sharp teeth stung, piercing into her flesh. For some reason, her refusal to let him dull the pain caused the vampire to pull back quickly. He’d grumble darkly about her stubborn pride, her foolish ways, appearing almost sorrowful and hurt that she refused what little comfort he did offer. However, Tatiana had seen the darkness in him and wasn’t fooled by this sentiment.
She had to admit she felt calmer now that the visions slowed and her body balanced. Domin’s connection to her steadied her, and she felt him lingering just on the edge of her consciousness. Not that he listened or intruded into her thoughts, it was just like a part of her, there and waiting. When she slept, the dreams lessened, and when they started, she had more control over them.
There were times though rare when she was left alone. Only then did she feel safe thinking of Marcello. Her heart ached for him. Her body missed his. She longed for him, to feel him, kiss him, make love to him in endless ways—rough, sweet, bitter, tormented, passionate. It wouldn’t matter as long as she felt him inside her, next to her. Whenever she thought of Marcello with Leandro near, the vampire would sense it and grow irate, though never directly mentioning her thoughts as the cause.
Tatiana’s mind still called to Marcello, refusing to give up hope. But, as time wore on and he did not come, she could only assume that he did not search for her at all.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Spoleti Castle, Province of Florence, Tuscany, Italy, Fall 1898
A long paved drive led up the side of a small mountain, nestled in the valley of the larger surrounding range. Leandro’s carriage glided over the road, hardly jostling as the horses pulled it over the smooth stone. The clopping of hooves echoed over the silent distance, a lonely sound in the dark night.
Tatiana leaned out of the window and gasped when she saw the structure looming brilliantly in the light of the full moon. The chilled wind stung as it whipped her face. She didn’t care as she breathed deeply of the fresh night air.
Built in the medieval period, Spoleti Castle had seen few modern renovations to its structure, except a few conveniences and repairs. It was maintained with the greatest of care and indeed made for an imposing fortress, an inescapable prison.
Small, stone buildings lined the paved road, surrounded by forest on one side and a long valley on the other. Tatiana thought she saw an orchard hidden in the shadows, but couldn’t be sure. As they came closer to the castle, she detected the distinct lines of a vineyard. People were outside picking grapes.
“Why do they pick at night?” she wondered aloud, staying within the shadows of the carriage as the workers turned to watch them pass. She saw a few marked their chests with a sign of a cross, their lips mumbling a silent prayer, but most just held completely still as they waited for the carriage to roll by.
“The sun can dry the grapes out, makes them small. Nighttime is the best time to pick them.” Leandro gazed over the vineyard, seeming almost at peace. His long pale fingers curled over the blue velvet curtain, stroking it absently in a gentle caress.
Tatiana unconsciously moved further away from him. She wouldn’t be fooled into thinking him anything but a monster. But, as she saw his ashen features soften, almost sad with longing, she began to doubt the demon in him. “Whose land is this? Another friend?”
“It is my home,” Leandro said. “Marcello received the title, and I received the land. It is an agreement between us. He has no use for it. He refuses to come home to Italy.”
Tatiana waited nervously. Leandro’s eyes turned to her, full of meaning, as if to say, he will not come here for you, bella donna, don’t even wish for it.
Tatiana opened her mouth to speak, but Leandro turned back to the window and motioned his hand slightly for her to look. She again leaned over, gazing out into the night. A large arch loomed over the roadway, constructed into a wall and vining with lush, green plant life. An iron gate was pulled high overhead to let the carriage pass under it.
Inside was a large courtyard with magnificent gardens, paved cobblestone paths, wondrous sculptures. The blue moonlight danced over little fountain pools of water, rippling softly. The light molded over the hard stone until it looked soft and alive. It was a fairy tale world. She dared a glance at Leandro, wondering how a demon could maintain such beauty. She wondered why he’d even care.
“You may have insight, witch,” Leandro said, not looking at her. “But some things you are too young and too mortal to understand.”
Tatiana felt a feeling akin to grief wash over her. The carriage stopped and before she could question him further, the door was opened. A gloved hand reached inside, and Tatiana took it, letting the elderly servant help her down. He didn’t pay her much attention, not even looking at her drab woolen dress and unkempt hair that made her look more like a peasant than a lady.
Tatiana stretched her arms, instantly detecting that the servant was human. His eyes were clear and brown, and he seemed unaffected by the sight of his master, the vampire, stepping down the carriage steps. The servant bowed low to Leandro.
“Ettore, this is Miss Sinclair,” Leandro said. He motioned to Tatiana before murmuring to the man in their native tongue. Ettore dutifully bowed to her and motioned his hand to the driver. The carriage sped off to the nearby stables.
“He’s human,” Tatiana said when Ettore turned and walked up the narrow row of steps to the house. She thought of Cesare and his milky white gaze. “You don’t have to make him a servitor?”
“Don’t think that because he is human, he’ll help you,” Leandro said. He brushed his hand absently over his black jacket.<
br />
There were times when he looked so much like his brother she wanted to weep. Leandro tended to pull his brown hair back from his face, and his gestures had subtle differences in them. When she was near him, she didn’t feel him as she did Marcello. She didn’t want him as she did Marcello. She didn’t ache for him as she did Marcello.
“Don’t pine for my brother, bella donna,” Leandro said bitterly. “He can’t feel for you. Believe me, I know. You were merely a woman to warm his bed and a hot place to stick his manhood. The rest was only an illusion he made you believe because he could.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said such things to her. Tatiana tried to ignore him, but the seeds of doubt were beginning to wear on her. What if Leandro was right? What if Marcello could never feel for her? It wasn’t like he’d claimed to love her.
“I had a vision of you, Leandro,” Tatiana answered, her voice light. Her eyes narrowed leisurely on him. “You were bursting into a ball of flames in the sunlight, and you were screaming in such agonizing pain.”
Leandro’s lips curled into a pleasant smile. “A vision, or wishful thinking, bella donna?”
Tatiana stretched her arms, yawning as she looked around. She didn’t bother to answer him, and she knew he wasn’t concerned with what she had said. The gray-white stones of the castle home were beautiful, built high from the ground. The large square-shaped keep was encircled by the long stone wall, which lapped around not only the house but the garden and outbuildings. What looked like an old chapel was nearby, a bell tower set high above it. A watchtower reached even higher on the opposite side of the immense yard.
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