Accidentally Married To...a Vampire?

  “Please,” she whispered, stroking the back of his head and those thick, black wavy locks. “You can stop, I feel you love me. You don’t want to hurt me.”

  Against her naked chest, she felt his heart hammering. His fangs protracted from her skin, and he broke the suction of his mouth.

  Helena sighed.

  Now that he’d regained control again, Helena felt sheer frustration. Yes, her mind was filled with fear—both his and hers—but her body craved him.

  “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered against her neck, sending shivers down her entire body. “I should not have thought I was strong enough to resist you. I haven’t feed for many days now. And even if I had, I wonder if it would change anything. I crave you.”

  He rolled off of her and pulled her head to his chest. She could feel his emotions. Failure. Shame.

  “Niccolo? It’s okay. Really.” She looked up at his sublime face, the masculine features triggered her neediness all over again. His angular jaw rough with black stubble, his dark lashes, and thick straight brows were works of art.

  Eyes closed, he nodded. “I am very sorry for hurting you, my love. Please forgive me.”

  She smiled and snuggled into his chest. His heart was beating so loudly now. “Don’t worry. Everything will be different after you’ve changed me.”

  ***

  Like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, Niccolo cringed inwardly at her words. The thought of changing Helena was absurd. He loved her. Truly loved her.

  She was right when she’d said before that his world was dark…that he was dark. Damn it, he was also an arrogant, stubborn, deadly bastard, and he always would be. She deserved better. It didn’t matter if he found a way to be free or not; he’d still be who he was, and killing was just as much a part of him as anything. He understood that now after seeing the wake of destruction the Obscuros left behind. So many innocent lives were prematurely snuffed out every day. The Obscuros’ numbers were growing, and they had to be eliminated.

  He would always be the Executioner, Queen’s General or not.

  Then another horrifying notion struck him…Reyna’s dungeon. Cimil had mentioned that would be his fate if the prophecy went unfulfilled.

  Cristo sacro, what a mess!

  Helena could feel his emotions. She probably had all along, but just hadn’t realized exactly what it was. But now, she’d opened her mind and heart to him, she could feel him like he could feel her.

  Bloody, fucking mess!

  If he ended up tortured by the queen, she’d be tortured too!

  And if by some odd chance he didn’t end up in the bowels of the dungeon, he still couldn’t be with her. He’d kill her. She’d driven him past the brink of madness with her satin skin infused with her sweet, feminine scent. When he’d brought her to release with his hand, it was the silver straw that broke the hungry vampire’s back. His mind became permeated with her rapture.

  It took every ounce of willpower he had to deny his primeval instinct to devour her…mind, body, and soul—well, mostly body, to be honest. Then the trickle of blood from her neck pooled in his mouth, shocking him back to reality. That was odd; the taste of her blood should have sealed her fate. Perhaps his love for her was stronger than he thought. But would he be so lucky next time? Not likely. That meant he’d have to transform her. Not happening. Back to square one.

  He tipped her face toward him and brushed the hair from her face. “Helena, we need to talk. I—”

  The door burst open. In charged Andrus, flanked by five Demilords. Each wore black leather dusters and leather pants. Niccolo jumped from the bed, wedging himself between them and Helena.

  “I’m wondering why you were foolish enough to get a room in the same hotel as us,” Andrus asked.

  Helena gasped and everyone looked at her. “You were about to take my virginity in a Super 8? You and I are going to have a long talk about that!”

  Niccolo shrugged. “Figured the last place he’d look for us was the room underneath his. I also thought it would be easier for me to kill him at sunset when my strength returned. My gamble might still pay off.”

  Andrus crossed his arms. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not planning on staying or dying.” He tilted his head to look past Niccolo at Helena. “Get dressed.”

  Helena pulled the sheet from the bed as she rose. “Andrus, thank you for coming to rescue me and for everything you’ve done, but I’ve decided to stay with Niccolo.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I said…get dressed.”

  She stepped beside Niccolo and looked up at him with her large doey-eyes then back at Andrus.

  Niccolo fought his urge to fight the Demilords. Part of him hoped and prayed for a miracle. He didn’t want to do this to Helena. But he had to.

  Helena frowned at Andrus and his men. “Andrus. I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression last night, I was drunk. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s the honest truth. I love Niccolo. I want to stay with him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you or still want to help you.” She stepped forward and placed her hand against Andrus’ chest. “What was done to you was wrong.”

  He smiled wickedly. “I’m glad you feel that way because I plan on taking you whether you like it or not.”

  “Andrus! What’s the matter with you?” She stepped back and turned toward Niccolo. It was clear she was expecting he’d sift her away. Instead, Niccolo stepped back.

  A subtle rejection.

  It was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his thirteen hundred years. Every cell in his body screamed for her, to take her away. He forced himself to bury his true emotions so she wouldn’t catch on. He’d have to carefully choose his words now. He needed to extinguish any hope she might ever have of him changing his mind. She needed to go with Andrus. If there was any hope for breaking the bond, the Demilord’s archives were it.

  He too crossed his arms. “If he wants you, then he can have you. I cannot afford a war with the Demilords right now. My men’s lives are too valuable to lose—we have important work we must carry out.” Niccolo died on the inside—again—as he spoke the lie. He dipped his head towards Andrus. “She’s all yours.”

  He tried not to look at her. He knew the pain on her face would be too much to stomach—worse than the torture likely awaiting him in the dungeons, worse that the thought of eternity without her. But this was the only way to truly save her.

  “You’re a bastard, Niccolo. I hope you rot in hell.” She picked up her clothes from the heap on the floor and marched towards the door, pushing the enormous heathens out of the way. They snickered.

  Andrus looked angrier than he had when he’d entered. “You’re bloody fool, you know that? But I’m glad you are.”

  Niccolo nodded and then sifted away, back to the darkness of his life, hoping that Helena would find a way to break the bond soon. He couldn’t bear to feel her pain in addition to his own for very long.

  Chapter 16

  Niccolo stared out the second story window of Reyna’s Paris townhouse at the streetlights below. Couples strolled down the cobblestone sidewalk at a leisurely pace, enjoying the unusually warm evening. After leaving Helena, he’d sifted to his queen, hoping secretly she’d simply end his suffering and kill him; Helena’s anger and despair were like sharp knives jabbing at his heavy chest.

  “Niccolo!” Reyna screamed as she stormed into the house.

  Niccolo rolled his eyes. What idiotic request would she have this time? Maybe he should end everyone’s suffering and kill her instead. But that would never happen. The universe’s cruel joke. Although a well-trained vampire might be strong enough to kill her, no vampire would dare because if the queen were to die, any vampire carrying her blood would perish along with her. It was plausible that this meant the entire race. And that was why he suspected the gods had ultimately spared her; they believed the Creator would punish them if they wiped out one of his creations.

  According to lore, the first vampires, or the Ancient Ones, we
re created in approximately 2600 B.C. at the same time the Mayans began to flourish and the Egyptians built Giza. The gods, at the time, had become drunk with arrogance as humans made it their primary goal in life to worship them and pay tribute to their greatness. Humans built pyramids and made sacrifices; they would do anything for the gods. As the gods became fat with vanity and arrogance, they began to neglect their true purpose: protecting the Creator’s children and their earthly playground. Evil among humans began to flourish.

  The Creator, wanting to teach the gods a lesson, plucked out a piece of light from each of the fourteen gods. He then chose three human women and three men. The six humans inherited a piece of the gods’ strength, immortality, and their gift of manipulating the physical realm—giving them the ability to sift, control minds, and see human auras. To keep the Ancient Ones from growing too arrogant and powerful, as the gods had, he bound the Ancient Ones’ strength to the night.

  Finally, many believed that the Creator gave the Ancient Ones the thirst for evil humans’ blood, as they were flourishing due to the gods’ neglect of their duties.

  An elegant solution for a simple problem.

  Yet, somehow the vampires evolved and developed a taste for innocence. The Pact was then created, though no one knows the exact date, to remind vampires of their true calling and purpose on Earth. If they did not stray from the path of righteousness, their souls would be spared.

  “Niccolo! You useless lump of medieval crap!” Reyna called out, snapping Niccolo from his thoughts. Oh, hell. Who was he kidding? If all vampires were truly related to her, they’d all be going straight to hell in a hand basket.

  “I am here, my queen, and there is no need to yell. I am quite capable of hearing you.” What he wouldn’t give to become deaf.

  She charged into the room wearing hot pink overalls and leopard high-tops. “I order you to do something about this atrocity immediately! Immediately!” She stomped her foot. “Do you have any idea how much I just paid to fill up my gas tank?”

  Niccolo sighed. “No, my queen—”

  “One hundred and six Euro! This is outrageous! Nobody—and I mean nobody—rapes the queen’s wallet. Despicable humans!”

  For once, Niccolo could actually see her point. There were certain elements of the human world that where out of their control: war, inflation, American Idol…all things which could cause major irritation to a vampire’s daily life.

  “What do you propose I do, Your Majesty?” And why the hell doesn’t she just save gas and sift anyway? Like me, she had the gift of being able to sift long distances.

  She huffed and waved her hand through the air. “Figure. It. Out. What do I pay you for?”

  Niccolo swallowed a laugh. “You do not pay me, Reyna. I am your unwilling slave, remember?”

  “Well, I…” Flustered, she paused. “I pay you by allowing you to live. So don’t make me regret it. Kill whoever is running up the prices.”

  Niccolo bowed his head. “Sì, Reyna. I’ll get right on that. But first, I need to notify you of a new coven of Obscuros reported near San Francisco. We’ve got a report that an unusual amount of day laborers have gone missing.”

  This was always one of the metrics Niccolo and his men watched. Day laborers were easy prey because no one really tracked them. They often lived under false identities and roamed from state to state.

  “I must investigate and handle the situation. Then I will…” he cleared his throat, finding it difficult to say the words, “handle the issue of high gas prices.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. But I want hourly updates. Got it?”

  Niccolo had to do what he could to appease the queen and avoid the dungeons for as long as possible. He only hoped Helena found a way to break their bond quickly.

  He bowed his head. “As you wish.”

  He sifted to the New York penthouse to prepare his weapons. He’d promised himself he’d stay away, but he could not resist. He missed Helena so badly that he could not feed—not even a drop of flavorless bagged blood. Nor could he sleep. It had been just two days since she’d left, but it felt like an eternity. He felt her sorrow and pain twenty-four hours a day. Could it be that she wept even in her sleep? The thought drove him mad. He hoped she’d find a way to break their bond—not that it would stop him from loving her, but at least he didn’t have to feel her pain too. At least she might be free to move on and find another worthy of her.

  He lay on the bed in a plain white t-shirt and worn jeans, using her favorite cream sweater as a pillow so he could wallow in her scent. He stared at the ceiling, hands folded neatly over his stomach, wondering where he’d gone wrong in life. What had he done to deserve such a miserable fate?

  Sì, he had a dark past, but he learned the error of his ways and fought ruthlessly to protect the innocent. Countless lives—children, mothers, sons and daughters—surely the tens of thousands he’d saved meant something? Was it really so much to ask for a life wrapped in the loving warmth of a good woman? Helena had brought the light back into his soul. How cruel the universe was to give him something so spectacular only to make it impossible for him to keep her without destroying her.

  The doorbell rang to save Niccolo from his personal pity party. He lethargically climbed out of bed and made his way to the door. Gods he was so hungry. So weak. Useless now.

  Viktor would have to do the Obscuro hunting tonight.

  He slowly opened the door. He peaked through the crack to see a young man standing in a windbreaker and long bicycle pants.

  “Sì?”

  “You Niccolo DiConti?”

  Niccolo nodded.

  The guy slipped an envelope through the crack. “I’ve been told I gotta wait for a reply.”

  Niccolo tore open the letter. His eyes only took one second to register the words. His heart stopped beating for the length of one breath, and then his blood began to boil.

  Bastard! Andrus would die after a very, very long visit to Niccolo’s secret cavern in the bowels of Barcelona. No one there would hear the screams as he took the flesh from his bones nick by nick.

  “Ain’t got all day man. What’s the answer?” asked the courier.

  “Tell him I will rip his balls off, stuff them in his mouth, then tear off his head while I make him masticate!”

  The courier raised one brow and stepped back. “Kay. Dude. Whatever.” He pulled out a walkie-talkie from pocket. “Hey. Found Mr. DiC...” dramatic pause, “onti. Says ‘he accepts.’” He looked back up at the seething Niccolo. “Don’t worry about the tip, man. And you should try laying off the ’roids and coffee. Not a good combo for you.”

  ***

  “You’re a total ass. You know that, don’t you?” Helena barked at Andrus from across the deep-cherry antique dining table. The room was well lit by a large, but neglected crystal chandelier. Several corners of the spacious room hosted dusty marble statues of toga-clad men cupping handfuls of grapes raised toward the sky. Post Its, displaying words such as douche bag and imbecile, adorned the statues’ surfaces. Helena surmised these must be a few of the gods. How mature.

  Five of the six Demilord warriors sitting around the table snickered as Helena dressed Andrus down.

  Helena’s eyes darted furiously at each of them, dishing a helping of “shut the hell up.”

  They returned to quietly eating their steak and potatoes, but maintained healthy smirks.

  “I suppose you think that vampire mate of yours is an angel. Right?” said Andrus.

  Helena grumbled and looked down at her untouched plate. “No. He’s an even bigger ass than you are. If that’s even possible.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Andres replied with a grin. His men chuckled.

  She was appalled by their glib dispositions. “You think this is some kind of joke?” She snarled at each of them.

  Their smiles melted away.

  “Sorry,” Andrus said quietly. "I understand you are upset, that you feel I betrayed you, but that’s no reason t
o not eat. It’s been two days.”

  Helena simply wasn’t hungry. “I know how long it’s been. The question is, when are you going to let me go home?”

  Andrus shrugged and picked up his fork to spear a chunk of baked potato soaked in butter. “Not until I know you’re safe from him.”

  Helena suddenly noticed how Andrus did the quick blinking thing with his eyes when he said that. If memory served right, he’d done it the day they’d met too. His poker tell.

  “You suck at that, you know,” Helena said.

  The men stopped eating again and watched intently for Andrus’ response.

  Andrus chewed slowly then swallowed. “At what?”

  “Lying. And, you know what kills me? I would have done anything to help you if you’d just had the courtesy to ask. But you decided to pull this. Why?” Helena stood up and pounded her fist on the table, sending her fork flying. “I wanted to stay with him! We could have had a chance if you’d just left us alone! Why? Why Andrus! You made him choose between a war, the life of his men, and me. What did I do to deserve this…from you, of all people?”

  Andrus winced. “I—I can’t…”

  “Is this some kind of punishment? Because I didn’t give up on Niccolo after one kiss from you?”

  His men exchanged astonished glances.

  Andrus’ face flushed. He rose from his seat, walked over to Helena, and yanked her hand.

  She popped out of her seat and pulled her hand back. “Fine! You wanna talk? Let’s . Because I’ve got plenty to say!” she yelled.

  She followed him into the empty kitchen.

  Helena was first shocked by his rude behavior and then by how rundown the kitchen looked. Some of the white tiles were missing from the walls, the white ceramic sink and tiled counters were chipped and cracked. An old refrigerator groaned in the corner. In fact, the entire mansion looked like the inside of a forgotten, Victorian-era museum. This was the home of a person, or group of people, who’d clearly given up on life.