Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampire Legacy) (17 page)

“Father wrote these about his choice to stay mortal,” she said. “I thought you would enjoy them. I found a whole trunk full of many of his writings. I had no idea he had written so much. He had opinions about everything.”

“Yes, he did.”

“He saw in you a big part of himself. You should read what he wrote, Paolo. In the end, he wished he had chosen differently. But Mother would not be swayed, so he chose to stay with her.”

Their parents had lived as mortals, something their kind could choose. Upon puberty, they were given a choice, to remain mortal, or become a golden vampire. The Monteleones had both held off the decision until they were sure, something they encouraged all their seven children to do as well. The parents chose to remain mortal and passed on almost two centuries ago. All seven of their children elected to become vampire when the choice came to them; they were so affected by the devastating loss of their parents after they died within one year of each other.

But Paolo had regretted his decision, almost from the day he had turned, Laurel recalled. He had fought it and had been tormented ever since. Finally, he’d had to leave.

He’d returned for a visit, requested by his mortal wife who wanted him to consider reconciliation with the family at the wedding of his younger brother’s granddaughter. And then he’d abruptly left again. It had been at a particularly difficult time in his “mortal” fantasy life.

Her nephew Lucius entered the ballroom. He came to Laurel’s side and leaned into her, holding her skirts.

“Don’t be shy, Lucius. This is my oldest brother, Paolo.” The boy’s eyes were round and large. He had the dark features Marcus had, the unmistakable sensual Monteleone nose and lips. Even his hairline was like all three of the brothers, with a slight widow’s peak at the center.

“Maya and Marcus have agreed to let him stay with us for a spell so he can become acquainted with the family, in case—”Laurel stopped, sharing a conspiratorial stare with her brother.

“In case of what, Auntie?” Lucius asked. Even though Marcus had not openly admitted the child was his, Laurel allowed Lucius to call her Auntie. And she loved it.

“In case your mother has to leave for extended periods of time.” Laurel sighed and looked again into Paolo’s knowing eyes.

Lucius stepped forward and extended his hand to Paolo. He had been trained well. Laurel was proud of him.

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

Paolo squatted and looked at the boy. Their eyes were at the same height. He shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Lucius.” Though Lauren had told her brother about the boy, this was the first time Lucius and Paolo had met. He touched the boy’s cheek. Lucius pulled away. Lucius didn’t appear comfortable with being touched. Especially by a stranger. Family or not.

Paolo chuckled and stood. He mussed the top of the boy’s head and then left him alone.

Laurel studied her brother. “He’s a wonderful child. Very smart.” Lucius scrunched up his nose upon hearing this. “Good with numbers. He’s already gone through all the books I have up to the seventh grade and he is only six.”

“Six point two-five.”

“See what I mean?” Laurel laughed. Paolo nodded, smiling. “He reads practically day and night, don’t you?”

“I’ve read the Twilight series four times,” Lucius said with pride.

Paolo tented his eyebrows and whistled. “Impressive, young man.”

The youngster basked in the admiring light between Laurel and Paolo.

“We were just going to do some gardening,” Laurel said. “Later I have to run him over to his grandmother’s house. Why don’t you two go pick some apples? You could take some home to your wife, Paulo. She would love them.” The Monteleones gave away most of the fruit they raised, since they had no need. It gave them some good will with the community. Laurel baked berry pies for Lucius every week. It was his favorite food, other than ice cream.

“Show Paolo the orchard, and the berry patch.” She knelt before him and poked him in the chest with her forefinger. “Sweet pea, try not to get berry stains on your shirt, okay?”

She touched his cheek. “Your beautiful skin we can wipe off, but the shirt could get ruined.”

Lucius took the initiative and shyly grabbed Paolo’s hand, then pulled him across the terrazzo floor to the back. Laurel watched her brother run in little steps with the boy, bending down to make himself shorter. They were instantly in conversation, but never out of earshot.

Paolo
occasionally looked at Laurel, who waved back at him as she continued to work in the garden. She probably heard all of Lucius’s questions. Paolo thought he did a fairly good job of answering them. The two had put up a ladder, and Lucius was at the top, Paolo holding onto him.

“You don’t have to hold me, you know. I won’t break, and I never fall.” Paolo was struck by the boy’s confidence. He realized perhaps he was being a little too protective.

“Alright. But I know your mother, and if anything happens to you, well, let’s just say my life in this universe would cease.”

“Yeah, she’s like that.” The boy laughed. “How well do you know my mother?”

“Oh, we all grew up together. But she always had her eyes on Marcus. She only danced with me to make him jealous.”

“Did it work?”

“I can’t even remember. It was a long time ago.” Paolo sighed and looked Laurel, who stood up and massaged her lower back, then looked their way.

“Paolo, can I ask you a question?”

“That’s a very grown up way to say it. Good job, young man.”

“Marcus told me to ask permission before I ask something someone may not want to answer.”

Paulo stood still, searching the boy’s face as Lucius poured apples from the basket he had made with his shirt into the bucket Paolo held.

“Okay, shoot. What is it you want to know?” Paolo leaned in and whispered so Laurel would have a harder time hearing him. “You’re too young to have the sex talk.”

Lucius burst out laughing so hard he almost fell off the ladder. “Sex, sex, sex, everyone’s always talking about sex, whatever that means.”

Paolo thought how grown up Lucius was. Old and comfortable in his body, at his age. He wished he had some of the inner peace this little-six-year-old had.

“Exactly, my man. People make too much of it. Way too much. Lucius, my friend, we’ve just found the first point of agreement between us.”

“Yes, gentlemen should find more agreement than disagreement.”

This sounded just like Marcus. His brother had done well influencing this young lad, Paolo thought. Just when he thought he’d been able to avoid a query he wouldn’t be able to field, Lucius remembered his question.

“Is Marcus my father?”

“Ah, why do you ask that? What has he told you?”

“My mother’s told me he is. But he never calls me his son. If he were my father, wouldn’t he want to do that?”

Paolo was suddenly heartbroken for the boy. This must be a very trying situation for Marcus, being such a responsible person. And he felt the little heart beating in the six-year-old’s chest, still a mortal, still trying to figure out his life and where he stood. It touched Paolo. The pain was identical to what he experienced as a mortal child, not knowing where he belonged in the scheme of things. The sense of not belonging only increased after he chose to become vampire, wishing he had made a different decision.

Paolo also knew Maya would use Lucius for her own ends, and this made him angry. She was not a proper mother. He hoped Marcus would just claim him and take him away from her, for the boy’s sake. But until that day, Maya would use this boy as her pawn in a giant chess game.
Not vampire. Must be witch.
Her whole family was a thorn in their side, all of them.

“Lucius, I would trust what Marcus tells you. I would believe him. I presume you’ve asked.”

“I’m afraid to.”

“Afraid? Why?” Paolo took a few more apples from the boy’s small hands.

“I want him to be my father. I really do. He says he loves me. But I’m afraid he’s not my real father.” Paolo could not help but melt when he saw the lone brave tear fall down the boy’s red puffy cheek. He grabbed Lucius off the ladder, almost scaring him, then held him close for several minutes as the child’s little feet dangling off the ground. The boy struggled at first, then buried his head in Paolo’s shoulder and sobbed.

Paolo drove Lucius over to his grandmother’s house. He felt better about leaving Lucius with his mother’s family after learning Maya was in America, chasing after Marcus. She wasn’t expected back any time soon. The shared arrangement meant Lucius was to spend half the time with each family. But now there was talk of sending him to California to live with his mother and be closer to Marcus, who now spent all his time there. Laurel gave Paolo strict instructions not to mention Marcus coming to Italy.

Paolo enjoyed the time he spent with Lucius. They had picked berries, and a warm pie was setting in a box in the back seat floor, something Lucius would have all to himself, as all others in the household had no need, being that they were all vampires.

Maya’s mother, Aurora, wasn’t particularly happy to see Lucius or Paolo. She was not quite as beautiful as her stunning daughter, but she had the same dark, sultry look.
Witch blood in there, eons ago.
She turned her nose up when Paolo offered her the pie, like he was handing her a dead cat. In fact, Paolo thought she might have preferred a dead cat to a berry pie. She made it quite clear where her tastes lay.

Paolo figured her lack of culture would cause her to drink blood in front of the boy, something considered low cast. Or worse yet, feed on a farm animal or some helpless human. God, he was filled with visions of what this boy’s life might be like. He squeezed his fingers so tight he almost drew blood from his own palms.

“So now Marcus has his substitute bringing him over.” She looked Paolo up and down. “A poor substitute at that.”

“Nice to see you too, Aurora.”

She hissed and showed her fangs to him, luckily out of sight of Lucius, who had run into the house with the pie he had snatched from his grandmother’s hands.

“May I come in to say goodbye to Lucius?”

“No.” She slammed the door.

He hated them, absolutely hated them. He decided to stay a few more days to talk to Marcus. He knew his brother had requested Lucius go back to Maya’s, and although she didn’t say it, Laurel implied Anne did not know about the boy. He wondered how long Marcus could keep this secret.

So many secrets . . .

So many lives ruined.

Chapter 16

Anne was angry. She sat in an overflowing bubbled bath all alone, at 39,000 feet in a jet that cost twenty-five million dollars or more. And the man who had plopped her into the tub without ceremony, the man who owned this jet and a vineyard in California as well as a villa in Italy, the man who had confessed she was his fated female, the man who had waited three hundred years for her, refused to have sex.

This was beyond unbelievable. No way would she be able to tell her friends. But then, not much of Anne’s current life and lifestyle could be believed either.

What was Marcus doing? Why had he abruptly left her panting and wanting? She snuggled under the warm bubbles that smelled of lavender and melted into the scented water. She rubbed a sweet citrus gel over her breasts as she massaged them. She swirled the lavender liquid between her legs. She didn’t feel she was bleeding, but some cramping continued.

She hadn’t bought any tampons with her. The thought of having to wear one now disgusted her. Draining a human didn’t disgust her, but wearing a tampon did. How her life had changed.

The mirrored bathroom door opened and Marcus stepped in, wrapped in a white towel, naked to the waist. The front of the towel pushed out like a tent.

“May I join you?” He didn’t wait for her answer, and instead dropped his towel and showed Anne his huge erection. She swore under her breath.
So not fair.

“Are you going to tease me or please me?” She pouted, but didn’t take her eyes off his cock.

“I think a little of both.” He stepped over the tub’s lip and sat in the bath, facing her. He slid his legs under her thighs to rest along her hips. The look of him, the smell of him and his blood force, so male, so tall, surrounded by light purple bubbles, almost made her laugh. Her chill was thawing.

“I have never done this before.” He smiled, his face filled with wonder like a schoolboy. His hulking lower body disappeared under the water—all except his knees, which perched high above the bubbly foam. The tub was obviously too small for him. Anne could somehow believe he’d never shared a bath with a lady, for all his three hundred years.

So much for experience.
She liked being his first.

Although she wanted to ravish him, Anne waited for him to advance to her. Her cheeks felt pink, her thoughts scattered—the effects of the delicious red champagne. Anne moved just out of his long reach, leaned against the back of the tub, and squeezed her breasts. She called to Marcus’s dark eyes that followed the movements of her hands, which traced up the side of her neck and covered her lips.

By the sight of Marcus’s flaring nostrils, she could tell he was barely in control. It was delicious knowing he could handle anything she could give out and she wouldn’t have to be careful. She wanted so much to demonstrate to him she could handle anything he wanted to do to her as well. This need burned inside her belly, increasing in intensity the more she was around him.

“Are you hungry?” Marcus stopped before his chest touched hers. She felt his warm breath. He looked so sweet with his concern for her. She felt the last vestiges of her anger evaporate.

“Aren’t you worried I’ll get fat if I drink too much?” Anne curled her lips up at the sides. She sat up, still facing him, and scooted her slippery body over to rest her sex against his lap, making him touch her entrance with the head of his penis. “There is only one need I have at the present time. Please, Marcus. Let me have it.”

He leaned into her, and with an arm around her waist, pulled her higher up to rest on his thighs. She wrapped her legs around him. He kissed her neck as she pressed into his chest. She turned to the side, made her neck long. She craved his bite. “For you,” she whispered, then bit the top of his shoulder.