Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) Read online

  MORTAL BITE

  Sharon Hamilton

  Copyright © 2013 by Sharon Hamilton

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  License Notes

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  Chapter 1

  Paolo Monteleone swirled the black cape around his body as he checked the guest chamber’s full-length mirror. The fabric arrived at his knees and calves well after he stopped spinning, and then draped back away to sway a few inches from the floor. He could see his face in the polished sheen of his shoes.. The tux and red cummerbund, an elegant presentation, belonged to his brother, Marcus, but it fit him perfectly. Marcus’s man had done well. The costume was a fitting outfit for any good vampire gentleman.

  It had been a year since he’d returned to Italy, repairing the damage he’d caused his brother and his new wife. A year of learning to be a father to his son, making amends to the other Monteleone family members who at first didn’t trust that he wouldn’t run off again and try to live as the mortal he wasn’t.

  When Marcus and Anne graciously invited him to join them in California wine country, Paolo immediately agreed. The change of scenery was doing him good. Tonight he was going to attend his first party without a member of his family.

  The door burst open and Lucius, all four feet of him, raced straight for Paolo. The boy wore his Superman cape and red boots—rain boots, to be exact—with all the pride of the superheroes he loved to emulate.

  Paolo bent over and lifted his son, pressed the flesh of this little superhero to his chest and nuzzled just under the boy’s right ear. The fresh smell of his mortality was the most satisfying moment of Paolo’s day. Eventually, Lucius would have to make the choice whether to remain mortal or become golden vampire. But not yet. Not until he was of age.

  “And just where are you heading out to? Anne taking you trick-or-treating? It’s not Halloween yet,” he murmured affectionately into the side of the boy’s face.

  Lucius drew back and his dark eyes flashed at his father, which always managed to melt Paolo’s heart.

  “I’m going with you to the party, father.” His coppery brown eyes and pink cheeks made him look sweet despite the heavy, jagged, and uneven eye makeup he must have applied himself.

  “Lucius, you could hurt yourself putting all that kohl around your eyes. You should have asked your aunt for help.”

  “Well, Anne and Marcus…” the boy paused and blushed. “They’re busy all the time.”

  “Ahhhhh,” Paolo said. He envied his brother and his long-awaited fated female and their new baby. The fact that Marcus found Anne after three hundred years of searching meant there might still be hope for him. Not a fated female, but someone to love and be loved in return.

  A shadow suddenly covered his heart, and gave him a chill. He composed himself and addressed his son.

  “Lucius, time enough for parties when you’re older. This one is for grownups only. Not for…”

  “Kids,” Lucius finished with resignation. “But I want to go. You will protect me, father.”

  Indeed he could. Not an hour went by when Paolo wasn’t fearful of the fact that Lucius, still mortal, could die, and Paolo, vampire, would be left to grieve for all eternity.

  “I’m sure cook will find you something sweet in the kitchen. I think she made a berry pie.” He winked as he set his son down, while he savored the change in the boy’s face.

  “Berry pie? Whoopee!” Lucius zipped out of the room and down the hall, down the massive wooden staircase yelling “Berry Pie!” at the top of his lungs. It echoed throughout the whole mansion, brightening a home that hadn’t held the sound of a child’s voice in over a century.

  Then Paolo heard the carved wooden doors to Marcus and Anne’s suite open. Marcus, dressed in a long paisley velvet robe, ambled across the landing to stand at his door. He was barefoot.

  “That should get you the attention you deserve,” he said as he sauntered into the room. “You’ll be fighting the ladies off you tonight, brother. A real feeding frenzy.”

  Marcus was in a jolly mood, and comfortable, even though he was probably naked beneath his robe. At seven o’clock in the evening. After, no doubt, making love to his beautiful wife for most of the day—between the infant’s feedings, of course.

  Paolo forced his mind out of his brother’s private bedroom activities “Your hair.” He touched the back of his head, indicating Marcus’s bed head

  Marcus patted down the errant strands and rocked back and forth in his bare feet. “We didn’t get much sleep. The baby was up half the night last night, and today, well...”

  “No doubt harkening back to our dark vampire ancestors.”

  Marcus smiled and looked at the floor like he actually believed his lie had worked.

  Paolo leaned into Marcus and whispered, “If I had a beauty like Anne, I’d never leave my bed either. Your secret is safe with me, although I’ve heard the staff gossip.”

  “Gossip? About what?” The look of concern darkened Marcus’s eyes.

  “Your prowess. They have to have heard the screams and moans. You even wake the baby sometimes, or were you not paying attention?”

  Paolo said this without an ounce of jealousy, even though his life had been one lonely death after another, with the marriage and death of all three of his mortal wives. Paolo never begrudged his brother’s happiness, or his choice to mate with a vampire female. On the contrary. Hope kindled a little bonfire in his soul.

  Marcus seemed pleased that the staff had wondered about his stamina. Because he and Anne could go out in the sunlight, their family being the Golden of the vampire lineage, it required they have two sets of staff. One for day. One for night. Though he complained of the infant, Marcus rarely was in bed for sleep.

  “Well, I’d say it’s time for you to enjoy some of the comforts of the flesh, Paolo. And I believe you have created a most interesting net to catch them in. Rather like bees to honey.” Marcus winked and padded back to his room.

  On the way to the ball, Paolo allowed his mind to wander over recent changes in his life. He enjoyed staying with Marcus and Anne in California, in the legendary Sonoma County. Living in his native Italy the past year had made him feel morose and brooding. He had often wandered the dark, cobblestoned streets looking for something to warm his heart. But now there was Lucius to provide warmth. His son.

  During one of his brooding walks through Tuscany seven years ago, he’d committed the ultimate sin, creating a debt for which he was now trying to repay. Paolo remembered that night all too vividly, like it was yesterday.

  In a cruel twist of fate, Anne killed Maya, a fate punishable by death. His brother had nearly been executed by the High Council, since Marcus attempted to take the blame and was tried and found guilty of it. Paolo managed to save his brother’s life by admitting publically he was the boy’s father and Maya�
�s fated mate. Marcus was forgiven.

  But Paolo still had much to answer for. If there were a god that watched over vampires, would he find it in his heart to grant him peace, forgiveness? Give him a chance to make up for the mistakes he had made all those years ago?

  He hoped so.

  Like a dark whisper, the limo slid to the sidewalk in front of the grand ballroom. Marcus’s driver got out, opening the rear door for Paolo. The night was crisp and without rain. People flocked to the doors looking like actors waiting to go onstage for a performance of Midsummer Night’s Dream. The grand old hotel, steeped in history from trysts of the San Francisco elite over the past two centuries, sat stoically with its secrets amongst the bevy of faeries, butterflies and princesses. There were stewardesses and nurses so scantily clad they appeared to have costume malfunctions. Several dark vamp women clung to men dressed as pirates or gentlemen, astronauts and, yes, more than a few vampires. A group of blue unisex Smurfs arrived and crowded in behind him, giggling.

  Paolo was surprised that tonight, for the first time, he enjoyed appearing as who he really was. Somehow, he was glad he had chosen to become vampire instead of remaining mortal. He’d spent nearly three hundred years regretting the decision to change which was made in haste when he’d seen his mortal parents die..

  He didn’t really understand why tonight was oddly different. He only knew that his vampire skin felt like his elegant, comfortable cape. Appropriate, dashing and fatally attractive.

  Blaring music echoed through the hallway as soon as he stepped out of the metal cage elevator. Warm brown, heavily marbled stone marked his path to the ballroom. His pumps tapped down the stone corridor to the beat of the drums. Music throbbed in rhythms so strong that they tickled and thudded in his chest. His limbs felt the vibration of the beat, and his pulse quickened.

  Excitement. It had been centuries since he’d felt this way.

  He walked under blue and silver twinkle lights covering two tall tree boughs which framed the ballroom entrance. The photographer’s flash blinded him momentarily, but he smiled and nodded his head as he accepted a chit allowing him to purchase the photo later. Perhaps he would. It gave him another thing to smile about.

  The heavily gilt walls and ornately carved walnut paneling of the ceiling reminded him of some of the ballrooms in Vienna and Paris he’d seen as a youth, when he and Marcus had danced their way through the lovelies of Europe during the 18th and 19th centuries.

  I feel at home.

  His instinct was to find a dark table in a secluded corner away from everyone else so he could scope out the crowd. Homing in on the perfect spot, a table with only one shimmering gauze scarf next to a top hat, and the rest of the place settings unoccupied, Paolo selected a chair several spaces over from the party of two, brushed his cape to the side, carefully adjusted his tails, and sat, prepared to enjoy the revelers.

  Sparkle dust was in the air, tickling his nose. The amber-colored candle on the table filled the air with the fragrance of blood oranges, Anne’s favorite scent. He should know, he chuckled to himself, since Marcus had placed hundreds of them throughout his villa for her.

  Paolo watched faeries dance with trolls, and idly ran his gaze over a scantily clad woman in black with huge breasts as she undulated and massaged her body over her partner’s. There were werewolves, storm troopers, kings and queens. Some men and women danced with partners of their own sex, some cavorted in groups.

  He removed his cape and left it dangling over his chair as he went in search for a good glass of port. He preferred to have the enticing sweetness of port on his breath, should he meet a lady he wanted to speak with. His fangs craved the flesh of a mortal woman tonight.

  The scent of jasmine was strong as he edged his way between the dancers and a table filled with donuts of every size, color and confection. The pastries were resting on a bed of candy corn and caramel popcorn. Paolo’s teeth ached at the thought of tasting the over-sweet treats.

  Lucius would have loved this. Paolo smiled as he mused how sick the boy would have been the next day.

  Something soft bumped into his backside. Something that smelled wonderful.

  He turned and brushed intimately against a beautiful, auburn-haired woman with green eyes, whose curves made the most of a white Renaissance gown with a plunging neckline . Feathered wings were sewn on the back of the dress, and her long, draping sleeves almost touched the floor when her hands were down. Everything he’d lectured himself about not getting involved with mortal women flew away with the blink of his eye.

  Upon seeing Paolo, she raised her palms to her face and hitched her breath, as if startled.

  “Oh, my. What have we here?” she said.

  To a mortal, the loud music would have made it impossible to hear what she said. Paolo could hear every breath, every syllable rolling off her pink tongue as clearly as if she’d whispered it in his ear. Something silky slid down his spine as a door within him opened.

  “I am a vampire, madam, at your service.” Paolo bowed and kissed her extended fingers.

  Did I make her offer her hand, or did she volunteer it?

  “But your lips are warm. That means you are an imposter.” She smiled and the world lit up.

  “I assure you, madam, I am no imposter.” He felt his groin go rigid. He noted the blue pulsing vein at her neck quicken as her heart fluttered, sending her scent to his waiting nostrils.

  She turned and gazed over her shoulder at a young man dancing madly into oblivion. Her partner did not notice his date had been distracted by the charms a new dark visitor. Someone who could be dangerous to her health.

  Modern men. So naïve. They let their women wander way too much, allowing them to be gobbled up by straycatchers…

  She turned and looked up at him, as though she was expecting Paolo to say something.

  “Would you like some refreshment?” he finally asked her. His insides began to flutter in tandem with the beating of her heart.

  Her eyes took on a momentary sparkle that thrilled Paolo. She turned and regarded her young dancing partner without much interest. Putting her hands aside her mouth, she shouted to him, “Johnny!”

  The blond dancer jerked, then broke out in a toothy grin, raising his palms and undulating his torso in tune with the grinding music. Paolo didn’t like the sexual sway and suggestive jest aimed at his new interest

  “I’m getting something to drink,” the woman mouthed her words silently and followed it by drinking from an imaginary glass in her right hand.

  Johnny gave her the thumbs up and started to go back to his wild gyrations, but hesitated as he looked at Paolo. A frown of worry marred his sunny countenance

  She shook her head and waved him away from across the dance floor. Paolo heard her say, “No problem. You have fun,” but doubted Johnny had heard a thing.

  A glittery faerie dancer came up behind Johnny and slid under his knees, pressing into his backside that drew a whoop from him. The young man was instantly distracted by the way the little one rubbed herself all over his trousers.

  Paolo’s new friend leaned back and laughed, her neck and shoulders sparkling with glitter. He could smell how good she would taste. He saw as well as felt what she liked sexually and knew he could satisfy her—do things, make her feel things, she had never dreamed possible. He stole glances while she was distracted by the bodies writhing on the dance floor and the sparkle of the costumes.

  Then she turned. Paolo and his mortal beauty and her red lips faced each other fully at last. Her reddish-brown curls called to his fingers as his mouth anticipated kissing her, tasting her, making her shudder in his arms.

  The woman was waiting for him to lead the way. Paolo held his breath. He wanted to be sure she was coming of her own accord. He refrained from glamoring her.

  Does it matter?

  He decided that tonight it did.

  Paolo tucked his arm under hers and led her to the open bar, and away from the loud music. There was a fireplace and a des
erted table nearby.

  “I’ll get us something to drink. Why don’t you claim that table over there?”

  “Claim?” she asked. Her green eyes reflected tiny fires from the twinkle lights in a canopy of stars overhead. She bit her lower lip, but obviously couldn’t keep the ends from upturning into a smile. Her fluttering eyelids danced, flashing fireballs at his heart, allowing himself to be seduced by her mortal charms.

  “I figured we’d start on some port. Something deep and red.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she giggled, leaning against him. He could feel the firmness of her breasts against his upper torso. He swung his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer with a gentle tug. She arched back and examined his face, while he brushed the laces at the back of her dress, fingering every eyelet and silken strand.

  He couldn’t resist touching her, and spoke, releasing his dark power as he covered her with glam.

  “I’m entranced by your scent. Do you taste as good?”

  She was still for a second while she considered his question. Could she feel the threshold they were stepping through like he did? Caught in each other’s gaze, he heard a throat being cleared behind him and turned to face the red-haired bartender.

  “Something to drink?” the man asked. The bartender’s bulbous, deep purple nose seemed to fill his entire face. He held a wet towel in his chubby right hand while he tapped fingers on the bar countertop with his left.

  “Two ports. The oldest and rarest you have.” Paolo turned and whispered as he stroked the length of his Renaissance angel’s cheek and let his finger trail over her red lips, “Rare as the lady at my side.” Her eyelids fluttered under the weight of his control. He loved how she was so susceptible to his power, seemed to crave it.

  He almost leaned in to kiss her, but couldn’t bring himself to take advantage of her vulnerability. He cursed himself for his lack of manners. He held onto her with both hands at her waist, righted her firmly on her feet, separating her warm body from his and waited for her to regain sense of herself.