Much Ado About Vampires

Chapter Eight

I spent the entire flight to Florence pretending to sleep. I wasn’t proud of that fact, and I did actually snooze a goodly part of the time, thanks to some pain pills, but I had just reached a point where my mind seemed to be completely out of my control.

“I am going to sleep,” I told Alec an hour after the private jet he had chartered took off. The fact that he had the resources to think nothing about hiring private jets to send him rocketing around the world was one of the things my mind had a hard time dealing with.

“I don’t know why,” he said without looking up from his laptop.

“I’m tired. And that dinner you insisted I eat was huge, and it made me sleepy.”

“I meant that I don’t know why you feel that traveling in a private jet is in any way outstanding. I assure you that the company that hires out this jet flies their clients all over the world.”

“It may be standard operating policy where vamps are concerned,” I said, dropping my voice so the stewardess at the other end of the cabin couldn’t hear us, “but in my social circle, it’s a big deal. I’m going to curl up on the couch, if you don’t mind, and try to sleep off all that food.”

“You needed to eat. I had taken too much blood,” he said, his gaze still on the laptop that sat before him. “Why don’t you sleep in the bed?”

I looked over at the long brown suede couch that was tucked against one side of the cabin. The whole interior was done in a lovely latte and cream color scheme, the six leather chairs made with butter-soft leather that was so comfortable, I could have slept sitting upright in them. “It turns into a bed?” I asked, nodding toward the couch.

“No. There’s a bedroom in the back.” He looked up, his green cat’s eyes dancing with amusement. “I could show it to you if you like.”

I leaned forward over the glossy inlaid wood table that sat between our facing chairs, my voice a whisper as the stewardess tidied up the remains of our dinner—Alec’s having been eaten by me, since he evidently didn’t eat food that didn’t come straight from the vein. “I said no sex, and I mean it, buster. If you so much as think of seducing me again—”

“I believe the seduction in the Akasha was a mutual endeavor.”

“—like you tried at my apartment—”

He smiled, the handsome bastard. “Ah. That was due to the fact that I thought you were stripping for me rather than simply changing your clothes. I apologized for that.”

“—and at the airport—”

He shrugged. “I was hungry. You offered to feed me. We were alone. Things got a little carried away. I apologized for that, too.”

“—and five minutes ago, when I was in the bathroom.”

His smile broadened. “That was simply a matter of wishing to make sure your wound had thoroughly healed, and being unable to resist the nearness of your naked flesh.”

“Flattering as it is to be the object of lust by a bloodthirsty fiend in sexy men’s clothes, I stand by what I said, Alec—no sex. I’ll feed you because you helped me, and are continuing to help me, but I’m not interested in you in a male-female sort of way. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

“Yes,” he said, swiveling around in his chair to consider me, his gaze raking me from toes to nose. “You’ve made it extremely clear that you’re in denial, because you know you’re just as attracted to me as I am to you. Anger should be next, although perhaps you’re at that stage simultaneously with denial. I can’t wait for bargaining.”

I glared at him. “I am not in the five stages of grief, and I am definitely not attracted to you!”

He splayed his fingers across one of my breasts. My breath caught in my throat, my heart beating wildly at the touch, and my nipples, those traitors to my better intentions, hardened visibly under the thin gauze dress I’d donned for the anticipated warmth of Italy.

Alec pursed his lips as his thumb swept over my nipple. I shivered, for a moment entertaining the idea that I could have my cake—hot, steamy lovemaking with Alec—and keep him at arm’s length at the same time, but realized that was the sheerest of follies.

“Damn you,” I snarled, stalking off toward the back of the cabin.

Sleep well, love.

You can go to hell!

Pleasant dreams, too. Hopefully ones about you and me being naked together.

I froze for a second at the images with which he filled my head, then ran the rest of the way to the bedroom, desperate to shut out both the images and the knowledge that he was right.

I was utterly, completely, wholly in denial, and determined to stay that way.

An hour later I was still tossing and turning on the bed, not totally comfortable with the idea of an airplane having a bedroom to begin with. What if there was turbulence ? I looked, but there were no seat belts on the bed, so I contented myself with very carefully tucking myself in with the sheets pulled very tight over me. But mostly, I was sleepless because my body sang a sad little song of loss over the fact that it was confined to the bed, while Alec was sitting out in the main cabin, in glorious manliness.

Just what was he doing with that laptop?

Taking care of some business.

Stop eavesdropping! I ground my teeth at him for a few minutes, then unable to keep from asking, What sort of business? Businessy business, or vampire business?

I am involved in several mundane financial businesses, querida.

Really?

Yes, really. I have to have some way to fund trips in private jets, he answered, amusement rife in his mind.

Oh, I suppose . . . I thought you just . . . you know . . . had money.

I do have money. I’ve spent my life working for it.

I didn’t know why, but that pleased me. I’ve always liked people who made their own fortunes, both literal and figurative.

As do I. I thought you were tired?

I was. I am. Don’t you dare offer to have sex with me so I’ll sleep. And don’t tell me you’re not going to offer that, because I can feel that you are.

His laughter echoed in my head as I snuggled into the pillow, willing myself to sleep.

I surfaced from a dream of being bathed in warm, golden honey to find myself facedown on the bed, the lights in the room dimmed, and a sexy vampire kissing his way up my spine, his hands caressing my behind. “You are wearing black lace. Have I told you how much black lace lingerie arouses me? Nothing is quite so sexy as it is against the flesh of a warm, willing woman.”

I swear his hands were made of fire. I struggled against the need to purr, saying instead in a hoarse voice, “Have we landed?”

“Yes. We’re in New York, refueling. We should be taking off again shortly.”

“Oh. Alec, I said no sex, and I meant—”

Hush. I won’t do anything you don’t desire me to do. I simply can’t resist you any longer.

I groaned to myself, both at the sensation of his tongue painting a line up my spine and at the knowledge that what I desired was him, pure and simple.

But not on the only terms he wanted me.

Oh, great, he was right—I was at the bargaining stage! Dammit!

Even that knowledge did nothing to stop me as his hands slid between my legs, stroking me through the black lace and satin underwear, teasing me until he slid them off, his magical fingers making sure to inflame me further. His fingers danced in my hidden depths, his mouth moving over to one hip. I shivered at the heat of it, moving restlessly on the sheets, my breasts aching for his touch. “You’re hungry again.”

“I’m always hungry for you.” One finger sank into me, making my muscles quiver and grip him, my body tight and hot with need.

“Then you’d better go ahead and have a snack. I wouldn’t want it getting around that I was a poor hostess. My mother would never let me live it down.”

He licked a spot on my hip, his breath steaming it, hesitating to ask, “How do you feel?”

“Chock-full of blood.”

His mind was full of concern. I smiled at it, letting him feel how aroused I was. Truly, I’m fine. Go ahead, Alec. I can feel your hunger gnawing at you.

The familiar sting of his teeth piercing the skin on my hip dissolved to pure pleasure as he drank from me, his finger joined by a second as they curled within me, making me squirm as they found sensitive spots that I had no idea existed.

His fingers flexed as I moved against him, driven wild by the combination of his touch and the sensation of him feeding, everything I ever wanted in that small room at the back of a narrow jet.

When a third finger joined the other two, I just about came off the bed with the orgasm that followed, my toes digging into the mattress as I tried desperately to get air into my lungs.

You are so responsive, he marveled, his fingers still inside me as my muscles quivered around them. One touch and you go up like a powder keg. Do you want me to stop, querida?

“No,” I panted, amazed at the fact that my body was still keyed up . . . until I realized that what I was feeling was his arousal, bound so tightly to mine, I knew I would never be able to separate them again.

That thought scared me to my core, but before I could address it, his fingers were gone, the hard length of him thrusting into me, drawing a moan of absolute rapture from deep in my chest.

Alec! I cried, not used to the position, wanting to wrap myself around him, needing to touch him even as he pounded into my body, my muscles welcoming his intrusion with happy little quivers.

Now, love, now, he moaned, his fingers sweeping across flesh that I had assumed would be too sensitive for touch, but his climax triggered another of my own, sending us both flying.

Literally, since a subdued comment from the pilot over the intercom warned we were cleared for takeoff.

He poured his pleasure into both my body and brain as the climax seemed to go on and on, suddenly biting hard on my shoulder, not a feeding bite, but one of possession, a way of marking me to warn all other males that I was taken.

I knew what he was doing, knew it wasn’t what I should allow, but was helpless to stop him. It’s just sex, I quietly told my inner devil. I haven’t had sex in forever, and he’s really, really good at what he does, and it’s confusing things. Besides, now that we’re out of the Akasha, he’ll have other people to feed from. He’ll go off and dine on prettier, younger women, and I won’t feel so guilty about him anymore.

But how, my devil asked as Alec rolled off me, pulling me with him, will he get along without his Beloved?

I shushed her lest he hear the thoughts rolling around in the private part of my mind, guilt riding me hard nonetheless. It was getting harder and harder not to tell him the truth about what had happened in my past-life regression. I had no idea if Beloveds could be reincarnated, but I had a very bad feeling that I was going to have to broach that subject with him sooner rather than later.

The real question was, if I was his Beloved, did I want to spend the rest of my life with a vampire?

Alec murmured something about me getting some rest before we got to Italy, promptly falling asleep, his gentle snore ruffling my hair as he curled up behind me, one arm around me, holding me tight against his chest. The wonderful scent of him mingled with a slightly earthier note of our activities, causing me to relax against his warmth. I felt oddly protected despite the fact that the man holding me could be brutal when driven to it, and I was unwilling to look any closer at the warmer, softer feelings that had suddenly started to take over my mind.

I’d think about it later, when I could put a little distance between us. Then sanity would return to me. Wouldn’t it?

My inner devil laughed until I fell asleep.

“OK, your friend has seriously good taste,” I told Alec some ten hours later as he skirted the sun and stepped into the shade cast by a lemon tree that stood next to the front doorway of a beautiful cream-colored stone villa. The house itself was gorgeous—with a dark tile roof, green shutters, and elegant Gothic archways, not to mention extensively landscaped grounds—but situated on a hill overlooking Florence, it had a view that took my breath away. “Is the rest of the house as pretty as the outside?”

“Yes. Ring the bell, would you?”

I pressed a discreet bell that lay flush against the stone wall, warmed by the morning sun. “You did tell them we were coming, didn’t you?”

Before he could answer, the door opened, and a plump blond woman smiled expectantly and said something in Italian.

“Hi,” I said. “Are you Pia?”

“Yes, I’m Pia. Er . . . have we met?”

“No, but Alec described you as being very pretty and having a lovely smile, so I guessed it must be you.”

“Alec? ” She looked startled. “You’re a friend of Alec’s? ”

“Yes. Um . . .” I slid a glance over to where Alec stood in the shade of the tree, leaning against the trunk, obviously waiting for me to give him the go-ahead to dash through the sunlight. “You’re not still mad about him seducing you, are you? Because if you are, you don’t have to help us. Not that I mean that to sound ungrateful or jealous or anything like that. I mean, what happened in the past is no business of mine, obviously. But he seemed to think that you guys weren’t still angry with him. . . .” A tall man with dark curly hair and brilliant blue eyes loomed up behind her. His eyes narrowed on me, raking me from head to foot. I sighed. “You are still angry, aren’t you?”

“Who is this? ” A second man pushed his way out past Pia. He was shorter than the first, very thin, with a narrow face and pinched expression, as if he smelled something nasty. He gave me a once-over that made me faintly uncomfortable.

“My name is Corazon Ferreira,” I answered, embarrassed as hell. Dammit , Alec, your friends are still pissed at you!

They are?

“She’s a friend of Alec,” Pia told the tall man, who I assumed was her vampire. The two of them gave me a strange look. “This is Brother Ailwin. He’s . . . uh . . . he’s going to help us out with a little problem we have concerning a friend.”

I murmured a polite nothing, feeling horribly in the way.

“Perhaps you wish to conduct this business another time?” the skinny man asked, turning his sour face on Pia.

“No, no, we want it done as soon as possible. Er . . .” She shot me a hesitant look. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement regarding the terms of your summoning a lich for us.”

“I will, naturally, be obligated to charge more since the lich in question belongs to an Ilargi.” The man gave me a considering look, his eyes filled with speculation.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I’m interrupting. I’ll come back—”

“No, please, don’t leave, we’d love to talk to you about Alec, wouldn’t we?” She turned to the large man behind her.

“Yes, we would. We are finished here. We will expect the ceremony to take place this evening, Brother Ailwin,” Kristoff said.

What is taking so long? Who is that man who keeps looking at you?

Some priest, I think, and we’re in the way. Just so you know.

We are not. And that is no priest.

“That is too short of notice,” the man said, biting off the words as if he was reluctant to let them go. “But assuming you will pay for my time, I will make the arrangements.”

Maybe he’s a monk? I asked as the man, with one last look at me, got into a small car and drove off. He seems kind of ascetic to me. Although he’s wearing jeans and a shirt like anyone else. Do monks still wear robes?

That is no monk, either, querida. I do not like the way he kept looking at you.

Jealous? I asked with a smile.

Not in this case.

The grim tone to his words had my mental smile melting away to nothing. I had to admit that Brother Ailwin was making me more than a little nervous.

“So, you’re Alec’s friend,” Pia said as both she and Kristoff examined me again.

“Was a friend,” I growled, “if he keeps up pulling this sort of stunt on me. Look, I’m sorry to have bothered you and interrupted your meeting. We’ll just be on our way.”

I started to turn from the door but stopped when Kristoff said, “We?”

You didn’t tell them we were coming, did you?

Why would I do that?

“Oh my god,” I said, mortified to the tips of my toes. “He didn’t tell you we were coming. I’m so sorry. I’ll yell at him later on your behalf, all right?”

“He who?” Pia asked, stopping me when I would have marched away to give a certain vampire a very large piece of my mind.

You are in so much trouble, buster!

I’m well aware of that. The Moravian Council is not going to be happy.

Not with them, with me! I could die of embarrassment! These people think I’m a pushy interloper! And I am! “Alec.”

“Alec is in the Akasha,” she said slowly, as if I were a nutball.

Great, and now they think I’m crazy, too! “No, he’s not. He’s right there.” I waved a hand toward the tree.

Pia moved out of the doorway to look, her hand shading her eyes against the sun before she gave a whoop of happiness and ran toward the tree.

“Er . . .” I looked from where Pia had flung herself on Alec, who was spinning her around in the shade, to the vampire standing very close behind me. Alec had told me a little of his history with Kristoff, including the fact that he was the one responsible for Kristoff being a vampire in the first place. “Your . . . um . . . Beloved seems to be happy to see him. I’m confused.”

“No more so than am I,” he said, his voice rich with an Italian accent. He pushed past me and strolled toward the tree, not running through the sunlight as I assumed he would. I stood in the doorway and watched as he and Alec sized each other up for a moment, then embraced in a bear hug that looked like it should have broken at least one rib.

OK, I guess I was wrong.

About many things, love, but I try not to point them out too frequently.

Stop being smug. I thought they were pissed! How come your friend isn’t affected by sunshine?

He is, but Dark Ones who are Joined have more of a tolerance to the sun. I’m sure Kristoff still avoids it when possible.

“This is . . . oh, my. We never expected you to get yourself out. That’s why we . . . oh, dear. Is Cora . . . um . . . Kristoff, maybe you could . . . ?”

Something was wrong with Pia. She looked uncomfortable, and slightly distressed, and she kept shooting little glances past me toward the house.

“Come into the house,” Kristoff said with a dark look. “There is much we have to . . . explain.”

What’s up? I asked Alec as Pia bustled past me, her gaze curious as she sized me up.

I have no idea, but it can’t be too bad. Despite your concerns, they are happy to see us.

I said nothing to that, but the uneasy feeling continued.

“Who was that man?” Alec asked Kristoff.

“Brother Ailwin? He’s a lichmaster. We’ve been negotiating with him to steal Ulfur from whoever the Ilargi is who has him.”

“Alphonse de Marco,” Alec said, nodding.

Pia and Kristoff stopped and stared as Alec pulled me into the house after him.

The inside of the house was even more attractive than the outside, long, cool rooms with stone floors and arched entryways giving way to a columned loggia. Through a large set of French doors, I could see outside to where a small tiered garden rose into the hillside.

“You know who the Ilargi is? Alphonse de . . .” Pia sucked in a huge breath. “Al! Al from the tour! Oh my god, he is the Ilargi? Holy cow!”

“Interesting, but not, I think, of utmost importance at this moment,” Kristoff said, his hand on Pia’s back as they escorted us into the house proper. “Alec, we need to talk.”

“This is so lovely,” I couldn’t help but say, wondering how many people it took to keep up a house and grounds of this size. The room we were in was clearly a favorite, the walls a dappled oatmeal color, bearing a number of small, brilliantly colored, but obviously quite old paintings of the Renaissance style. Antiques mingled with more comfortable furniture, a blue and cream rug on the floor mimicking a mosaic. Outside, the garden was dotted with red and amber flowers, along with a thousand different shades of green. “And the views are outstanding.”

“Perhaps you and I should have our discussion in the library,” Kristoff said slowly, his speculative gaze on me.

“There’s nothing you can say to me that you can’t say in front of Cora,” Alec said in an even tone. “For lack of a better phrase, we are bound together.”

“Temporarily,” I said quickly, giving him a look that should have melted his hair right off his head. “We’re temporarily bound together.”

“Cora is in denial,” he told the two of them. “There’s nothing temporary about our bond.”

“Er . . . bound together how?” Pia asked, her face rigid with some strong emotion.

“It’s a long story. What did you have to say to me?” Alec asked.

Pia swallowed nervously, glancing over at Kristoff.

“Maybe I should leave,” I murmured, moving toward the door. “I think I’m in the way.”

“You’re not—” Alec started to say at the same moment that a shadow moved in front of me, and a woman stood in the doorway, pinning me back with a glare.

“Yes, you should leave. You’re most definitely in the way, and I, for one, don’t appreciate you trying to steal my man.”

Alec spun around to stare at the woman, a stupefied expression on his face. “Eleanor?” he said, looking as if he had just taken a kick to the gut. “It can’t . . . Eleanor ? ”

“Who exactly are you?” I couldn’t keep from asking, the hairs on the back of my neck rising.

“I’m Eleanor of Riger,” she said with a venomous look and toss of her head. “And I’m Alec’s Beloved.”