Feral: Part One (7 page)

 He chuckled. “Of course.”

“Infatti.” 
He arched an eyebrow, and I decided to rib him further.
 “
Well, it is your favorite word.” I popped a dissected piece of chicken parmigiana into my mouth, and tried not to look self-satisfied.

“Oh, you exaggerate,” he scoffed before grinning devilishly at me. “Your ears would burn right off that pretty, little head if I, 
indeed,
 told you my favorite word.”

I nearly choked on my chicken, and my eyes narrowed playfully when I recovered from my coughing fit. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

He just continued to smirk.

When I agreed to join Simon for dinner at his home, I’d assumed he would own a relatively nice-sized house at the base of one of the mountains in Georgia’s foothills. Instead, what I was faced with was an expansive estate of approximately fifteen hundred acres, on which was a two-floor—at least, above ground—Spanish-style mansion, stables, and a separate, multi-car garage. In the dimming light, I couldn’t be entirely sure of the color of the manor’s textured stucco and clay roof tiles, but I would’ve guessed a shade of wheat and terra cotta if asked.

I sat in my old car and took a few moments to ponder fleeing, because I was clearly out of my league. I mean, sure I grew up with parents who had money, but it was nothing like the scale on which Simon Treviso apparently lived. My home had only three bedrooms and two-point-five bathrooms, and this palatial-like house looked as if it would have a good ten bedrooms. I had only one car to my name, and it was an old, used Ford. God only knew what sort of foreign luxury cars Simon had hidden away in that monster garage.

I muttered darkly to myself as I climbed out, more self-conscious now about my appearance than I had been ten minutes ago.

I glanced down at my outfit.

I’d thought when I paired some simple but pretty jewelry with my strappy sandals and my silky, teal, one-shouldered top with a pair of jeans that I looked rather nice. I didn’t look quite casual, nor did I look too fancy. I looked… nice. Pretty. Attractive. Or so I thought.

Glancing back up at Simon’s home, I felt my stomach sink even further toward my feet. “Definitely out of my league.”

What the hell was I doing here anyway? What the hell was I doing still seeing Simon Treviso in general? What could I have 
possibly
 been thinking those couple of months before, when I agreed to continue having any connection to a man who, it seemed, had to be in his fifties, despite looking like he was only thirty-five. What possessed me to think I, a simple college student, could possibly measure up to 
this
 man?

I was beginning to lean toward the idea of hopping back in my car and getting the heck out of dodge when the front door opened to reveal the person who currently occupied my thoughts. I cursed inwardly and blinked back the tears that suddenly, and ridiculously, seemed determined to mist my vision. I would 
not
 cry like a silly, little child in front of this man, and I 
needed
 to end this tonight, because I obviously did not fit in a world like this. Yeah, it looked like Simon was wearing jeans, but god only knew what expensive designer they came from. Mine came from Target.

I willed my feet to move forward, to meet him halfway, as he descended the stone steps to make his way to where I stood. Unfortunately, they seemed to be rooted in place, and I had the distinct feeling that if I even moved one toe, I would burst into humiliated tears.

“Cara mia, che c'è?
What is the matter?” he asked when he was within arm’s length, repeating in English, “What is the matter, Sofia? You look… sad.”

My throat went dry, so I gestured to the manor and the adjoining grounds. “This is a lot to take in, and I’m, well, I’m not sure. I’m beginning to feel like I’m out of my league,” I commented honestly. “I think all of this really was not a good idea.”

“I see.”

His gaze dropped to the ground, and when he did not say anything for several long moments, I figured it would be best for me to leave. He, however, did not agree, and caught me by my upper arms, pulling me back to stand directly in front of him.

“Sofia,” he began in a soothing tone, “in all the time since we met, have I ever once given you reason to believe that I, in any manner, look down on you? That I see you as someone less than perfectly equal to myself? Have I even once made you somehow feel beneath me? Have I ever claimed or indicated, in any small way, that my status makes me superior?”

Overall, I liked to think that for the most part, I acted like a mature person; however, given that I was only in my early twenties, I occasionally found myself reverting into teenager. “No.” My voice practically reeked of petulant chagrin, and I loathed my tone even as the words spilled out of my mouth. “But I’m—”

“What? You’re what?” He pulled me closer and released one arm to catch my chin in his grasp, tipping my head back to look into his eyes, now a deep purple in the disappearing sunlight. “I will tell you what you are, 
cara mia.
You are a beautiful young woman in whom I have found a marvelous companion. You are intelligent, but do not flaunt it, and you have a wit you do not often show to those beyond your comfort zone. You are caring and compassionate, loyal to those who treat you with respect and kindness. Your acquaintance has brought me the greatest happiness, and there is nothing about you, 
amore,
 which I do not adore.”

Yet again, Simon Treviso rendered me entirely speechless, and I felt somewhat foolish standing there with my mouth open as I blinked in disbelief.

"Il gatto ti ha mangiato la lingua? Di nuovo?”

I was pleased that I was able to successfully restrain my instinctive reaction to apologize, instead pulling a face at his asking about the cat having my tongue again and earning a bemused chuckle for my efforts. “Funny. Really.”

My lips relaxed into a small smile, and despite my best attempt, the words slipped out. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to any of this, and by any of this, I don’t mean just—” I waved at the now-dark estate. “I haven’t had anyone speak to me the way you do, and certainly not treat me like a lady the way you have. I’m just not used to it.”

“Well, I can assure you I have every plan of making you ‘used to it’,” he said in a gruff, but gentle, baritone. “Such a charming young woman deserves nothing less than to be treated like a queen.”

“A queen? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Non.”

He was as somber as I had ever seen him be.

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

I lifted my eyebrow with a grin at the familiar word. “Not your favorite, huh?”

“Not my favorite.”

I hummed my disbelief and allowed him to guide me away from my car and toward his house, not that I really considered it a 
house
. And it did not escape my notice that as we walked, he rested his hand against the curve of my lower back.

“You look lovely, 
cara mia,”
 he said admiringly. “How you could ever believe that a creature as divine as you could be anything less than astoundingly extraordinary is beyond my comprehension. You are, in fact, as perfect as any human being could possibly be.” He paused on the steps, just one below me, and his eyes flittered over me from head to toe. 
“Sì, veramente bellissima.
Absolutely beautiful.”

He moved to the same step, but surprisingly, I did not feel intimidated in the least by his impressive frame and intimate proximity as he towered over me. “How I long to kiss your lips,
 bella mia,
my beauty.”

“Why don’t you?”

He looked as startled as I was at my words, and he recovered quickly with a hint of a smile. “Ah,
cara,
 if you only knew how much I desired to. However, I fear if I were to kiss you before our conversation, I would be dismayed all the more if you chose to disassociate yourself from me after my news.”

With those words, he moved back and offered me his arm, which I took unwaveringly.

I half-expected the inside to be some garish display of opulence, and I wasn’t too disappointed, though the rooms I viewed were not entirely what I anticipated. I imagined outlandish colors and crystal chandeliers or something, but the Earth-toned décor of what appeared to be the foyer and living room was inviting, cozy even.

In pale shades of olive and deep golden rod, I could definitely see the Italian influence in the room, especially in the rounded lines of the furniture that had been strategically placed around the massive entertainment center while ever-so-slightly facing the bare bay window that nearly took up the far wall. The wooden beams in the ceiling, however, were a nice twist and gave the room a mild, country flavor.

Beyond the living space, I could see an even darker shade of olive with splashes of black and gleaming silver, which I quickly realized were the stainless steel of the kitchen appliances. There was also the hint of Tuscan red peeking from around the corner, and as he led me through the open space, I quickly realized it was the dining room.

The dual placements were lovely. There was an open bottle of white wine to compliment the sushi—how did he know I liked sushi?—decoratively arranged on a central platter, and next to each setting were filled, beautiful glasses that I presumed were genuine crystal. Being the gentleman he was, he held my chair out for me and waited until I was comfortably seated to take his own.

Despite the romantic ambience, I still knew it was not the principle reason of my being there, and I internally debated whether or not to broach the subject of Cole and Kendal, or to wait until Simon was ready to reveal whatever mysteries he kept hidden. Fortunately, I did not have to make the decision, since he began to speak.

FIVE

“Sofia, I want you to know what I said concerning Colton is entirely true.” His voice was dark and somber as he took one of my hands in his. “He is uninjured and, aside from his apparent fixation on you, is doing immensely well. But before I can give you more information on Mister Malver, there are some other concerns I must address with you first, and if I am to be entirely honest, for the first time in my long life, I am unsure as to where to begin. I suppose I must first ask you to maintain an open mind during this conversation.”

That statement left me more confused than ever. As someone who was acquainted with unusual medical conditions and results of tragic accidents, I could not imagine any circumstance that would require some stretch of my imagination. There wasn’t much that could surprise me.

“I suppose I could prolong the inevitable,” he continued, “by proposing hypothetical situations and inquiring as to your beliefs in them, but as I said, to do so would only put off unavoidable. It would also cause you undue stress, and your mind, I am sure, would create theories which would probably be untrue.”

He inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a few moments before exhaling forcefully. “Sofia, as people who are interested in and study sciences, we are taught to view things with a rational eye, to seek the logical reason behind any condition presented to us. However, I think you can agree there are some things that are beyond even our comprehension, and the circumstance which surround Colton’s recovery, and indeed my own existence, is one of those.”

Simon licked his lips and released my hand, pulling away from me and leaning back in his chair. “Sofia… I am a vampire.”

I laughed long and loud, until my sides began to burn from the force of my hilarity. I laughed until tears began leaking from the corners of my eyes. And all the while, Simon sat there with his forearms resting on the chair and watched me, his expression blank, but his eyes pained.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” I choked out between guffaws. It took me a moment to recover my breath, and I wiped my eyes dry as I did so. “I’m so sorry, but that was really hilarious. Although, I would’ve expected that joke before Halloween, not after.” At his unaltered, steely expression, I sobered. “Look, I’m sorry, Simon. I wasn’t trying to be rude or mean, but… I mean, can you really blame me?” I shook my head. “I mean, really? A vampire?”

 The pale, coral lips I had fantasized about for weeks parted.

Shlck.

In hindsight, I would be both appalled and ashamed at the undignified shriek that burst from my mouth when two sharp canines descended into sight, but at the present, I was too taken aback to care about what noises I made.

I sprang up, more in surprise than actual fear, and realized one second too late that I had lost my footing and was going to go crashing down onto the wooden floor. I was going to walk away—if I walked away at all—with the bare minimum of bruises to both my butt and my pride. I only hoped I didn’t crack my head wide open on the unyielding floor when it stopped my fall.

But rather than painfully hitting the ground and seeing stars swimming before my eyes from disorientation, I found his eyes staring, unblinking, into mine.

“You caught me,” I said, only distantly recognizing how utterly inane that statement sounded.

His smile was amused, but sad. “Did you believe I would allow you to injure yourself in my care?”

I laughed again, only this time, the sound was light and unexpectedly airy to my own ears, in spite of the current situation. “No. No, I suppose not.”

He did not release me as my mirth faded back into incredulity, mercifully less frantic than my previous reaction. I shook my head as if trying to clear my mind of the image it had seen. “Vampires-vampires aren’t real. They’re myths, fairytales, just like ghosts and werewolves and unicorns. Vampires—they don’t exist. They just 
don’t.”

“Well, I am sure you will understand if I argue that, 
cara.”

I felt my toes curl at his persistence in calling me beloved. “What-what are you going to do with me?” I inquired, though I instantly regretted the words and wished I could take them back. Even in the muted light, I could see the hurt that flickered over his face. “I’m sorry, Simon, I didn’t mean—”