Forbidden Blood: A House of Comarré Novella (4 page)

Chapter Six

M
arissa smiled all the way back to her room. Dominic may not have come up with a plan, but she had. And it didn’t involve becoming Arnaud’s personal UV protection. Not since she’d met Dominic. He was everything Arnaud was not, including a gentleman, a word she’d never used in conjunction with a vampire before.

She discarded the cotton wool and lay back on the bed. If Dominic didn’t like her plan, he had only himself to blame for giving her an ounce of hope, a glimmer of what could be. Somehow, she would escape Arnaud’s clutches and persuade Dominic to help her.

She just had to make him fall in love with her first. Or at least desire her deeply enough that he would come to her aid. She told herself she wasn’t using him, even though she knew that was a lie. Or part of a lie. Dominic would use her, too, for blood or for…other pleasures if that’s what it took.

But she had a child to think of. A child who didn’t even know Marissa existed. A daughter who at this very moment might be under the fangs of her own patron. If Marissa did nothing else with her life, she would find a way to rescue her daughter from the comarré life. If only her son had lived…but perhaps he was the lucky one.

It was her heart’s desire to see her daughter set free, and the only reason she’d not run from Arnaud. The break had to be clean. She couldn’t build a safe place for her daughter if she was being hunted. Because Arnaud
would
hunt her down, of that she was sure. No one crossed him without paying.

Which led her back to Dominic and the price Arnaud would extract from him. She swallowed down the guilt already clogging her throat. Maybe there was a way for both of them to escape. Would he go? Would he leave this life behind?

She turned her face into the pillow. She already knew that answer. No. What vampire would willingly leave the noble life to live as an anathema? Because they would cast him out, if not for his crimes against his brethren, then surely for helping her.

Pushing upright, she sighed at the enormity of what lay before her. Maybe she should just run. Could she get Dominic to tell Arnaud that she’d died during an experiment? The thought lightened the weight pressing down on her. Yes, that might work. Except Arnaud would want to see a body.

The weight grew heavy again and she covered her face with her hands. She was a fool. How would she make Dominic fall in love with her? With what skills? Being part of the comarré breeding program only meant she’d been impregnated; it hadn’t educated her on the finer points of male/female relationships.

She knew nothing about love, except what she felt for her child. Knew even less about men. Her heart felt like lead in her chest as hope receded. Liquid welled in her eyes. She squeezed her lids tightly, trying to make the tears go away.

The door to her room burst open and Dominic flew into the space. “I am
not
going to bite you.”

“What?”

As if he’d just realized he was on the edge of losing control, he straightened himself, calmly closed the door, and came toward her, his voice low and even. “I know you expect me to bite you in order to test the sunlight serum, but I’m not going to. You’ll simply drain some blood into a glass for me.”

She pushed off the bed to stand before him. She took a breath and focused on his eyes. He really was a handsome man when not in full vampire mode. “That’s not how it works. You know the comarré benefit from the bite. Would you allow me to weaken during the time I’m to be here? What if your potion doesn’t work and I’m forced to defend myself against Arnaud? What then?”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he shook his head. “It isn’t proper. You are not my comarré. And you’d have to drain the blood anyway. I know how the comarré system works. Too much blood in your system and you’ll become sick.”

She decided on a different tactic. “Hmph. You’re afraid of Arnaud.” She leaned in and poked her finger into his hard chest. “You’re a fool.”

He grabbed her wrist, the tiniest shards of silver dancing in his eyes. She hoped it was desire and not anger. “And you’re as disrespectful as Catarina. If you’re not afraid of Arnaud, then you’re the fool. He could ruin me.”

She refused to back down, pulling herself up a little taller. “And he’ll kill me.”

The silver resurfaced in Dominic’s eyes. He turned and paced across the room, muttering in Italian and waving his hands. She sat on the bed, waiting for him to stop. When he did, he glared at her. “You will be the death of me.”

She slid back her sleeve and extended her bare wrist to him. “I disagree.”

His face shifted and his eyes went full silver. “I am too hungry to argue with you now.” He put his hand up and headed for the door.

She got up and stepped into his path. “I’m not Catarina. I don’t care if you bite me.” She cared if he didn’t, though. She knew what kind of bond the intimate experience could create between a patron and his comarré. At least she’d heard about it. Her bond with Arnaud was nonexistent. Based on Dominic’s lack of interaction with Catarina, it was doubtful they shared any connection either.

Dominic closed his eyes briefly, as if steeling himself; then he took her by the shoulders. His voice was calmer when he spoke. “
Cara mia
, I have work to do. Your willingness to provide me with blood is”—he shrugged—“not what I am used to. But you belong to a very dangerous man. For both our sakes, it is better if we don’t do this. I’m sure you understand.”

She did, but her need to save her child overrode all that. “If that’s what you wish.”

“It…is. Because it must be.” His eyes betrayed his lie.

She stepped aside and opened the door. “I’m sure you’ll call me when you’re ready.”

“
Si
.” He looked disappointed. Had he expected her to fight harder? “Until then.” He left.

She waited, thinking she should have asked him how long until he needed her, but the serum couldn’t be tested until the sun rose, so she had plenty of time to strengthen her plan.

If Dominic wasn’t willing to bite her yet, she’d give him a better reason to. She’d make him need her.

By eliminating the competition.

“Come in.”

Marissa entered cautiously. She could imagine how Catarina would respond to her visit, at least initially.

The other comarré’s eyes narrowed. She set her e-reader aside and leaned back on the sofa. “What do you want?”

“To apologize.” She pointed to an empty chair in the sitting room. “May I sit?”

Catarina nodded, still wary.

Marissa took a breath. “I shouldn’t have said what I did to you. I was tired from travel, and to be honest, my nerves have been rather frayed since I found out my patron was turning me over to Lord Falconetti to be experimented upon.” She wrung her hands for effect while staring at them. “It’s been a difficult couple of days.”

“I can imagine.” Catarina cleared her throat. “Look, what happened, happened and I hate to admit it, but you were right. I shouldn’t have spoken to Dominic that way. He’s not a bad patron. He’s just not the patron I signed on for.”

Marissa looked up, relieved her apology had done the trick. “What do you mean?” Playing dumb always got one so much more information.

Catarina got up and went to the tea service on the side table. “Would you care for a cup?”

“That would be lovely, thank you. Extra sugar.”

Catarina began to pour. “Dominic inherited me. My patron was a very wealthy, very old vampire. He treated me like a treasure, not a possession. Our life together was wonderful until the eldest of his sired children was killed under very mysterious circumstances. He was convinced the murder was the work of the
caedo
and that he’d be next.” She brought a cup of tea to Marissa, then sat with hers. “Eventually he became so paranoid he hired Dominic to help him end things on his own terms.”

She sipped her tea, looking over the cup’s rim at Marissa. “That’s where Dominic’s wealth comes from, you know. All this”—she slanted her eyes toward the suite—“paid for by the deaths of other vampires.” Another sip of tea. “Very black market and highly illegal. If the council ever finds out…”

“But you’d never say anything.”

Catarina laughed and put her cup down. “Of course not. Dominic’s one of the best unsuspecting allies the comarré have. He’s removed more aged vampires these last few years than infighting ever could.” She sighed, her fingers working the fabric of the silk throw resting on the arm of the chair. “Still, I miss Lord Itsak.”

Marissa nodded. Catarina was a strange one. “Did you go directly from his house to Lord Falconetti’s?”

“Yes.”

“Really? I’ve never heard of that. Usually one takes a small sabbatical at their house of origin. It seems to me you were never allowed time to grieve.”

Catarina shook her head, her memories reflected through the sadness in her eyes. “No, I wasn’t. I should have gone back to the Secundis Domus for a few weeks. It never really occurred to me.”

Marissa laid a gentle hand on Catarina’s arm. “I’m sorry things have been so hard for you, and I’m sorry you’ve been unable to properly say good-bye to Lord Itsak.” She gripped Catarina’s arm a little tighter. “You know, you could still go. Take some time off as it were.”

“I don’t think I could. That would mean leaving Dominic—”

“Would he notice? He’s been locked up in that laboratory since we returned from Corvinestri, and now with this dictate from my patron, I can’t imagine that will change.”

Catarina nodded. “That’s how he spends every day.” She seemed lost in thought. “He rarely drinks from my wrist anyway.” She looked a little sheepish. “I’m afraid that’s my fault. I haven’t been the most accommodating.”

Marissa sat back. “Drain some blood before you go. As long as you have some in cold storage, he’ll be fine.”

“There’s plenty there already.” The other comarré’s eyes brightened. “Do you think he’d really let me go?”

Marissa tipped her head to one side and made a show of thinking. “What if I told him that you and I had argued again and I sent you away? Then I can take the blame if he disapproves.”

“You would do that for me?”

To save her daughter, Marissa would do anything. “I would be happy to. After all, I owe you for being so inconsiderate when we first met.”

Catarina jumped up. “I’m going to pack immediately. Thank you. I feel better already.”

Marissa nodded. So did she.

Chapter Seven

F
or the third time in what had been a very long evening, Dominic lowered the lens of his microscope too far and cracked the glass slide protecting his sample.
“Vacca Boia!”

His inability to concentrate was Marissa’s fault. No, that wasn’t right. He
could
concentrate, but only on the blue of Marissa’s eyes, the curve of her pale neck and the way her sweet aroma made his jaw ache.

She’d tried to get him to bite her and she’d almost gotten her way.

But he was stronger than that. Wasn’t he?

His body said no. And his body was right. He sat back on the stool, arching his back and feeling his hunger right down to his bones. He’d gone without feeding for too long. Also Marissa’s fault. Maybe he should bite her. Take the blood he’d been denied. She’d given him every indication that’s what she wanted.

No
.

Arnaud already had reason enough to destroy him. Drinking from Marissa would be a very wrong step in a very bad direction. What he needed to do was get Catarina in here and feed, regardless of her mood or how she felt about it. As patrons went, he was beginning to realize he was much too permissive.

He yanked the bellpull near the door. Several long minutes later, a servant entered. “You rang, my lord?”

“Send Catarina in to me.”

“Very well, my lord.” The servant left and Dominic returned to his work. The sun would be up in less than an hour and he was only now just finalizing the sunlight serum.

The door opened a second time, but he didn’t bother looking up from the microscope. The sweet scent of comarré rolled over him as he added a drop of heliotrope essence and watched the serum come together perfectly. “I don’t want any discussion. Just give me your wrist and we’ll get this over with as quickly as possible; then we can both go back to tolerating each other.”

Warmth invaded his space and the air stirred as pale, gilded flesh filled his periphery. “I’d prefer you take your time.”

He jerked at the sound of Marissa’s voice, his body instantly primed, his fangs descending. “Where’s Catarina?”

“She’s taking a little time off, going back to the Secundis Domus for a couple of weeks. She needs to grieve for her first patron; then she’ll come back to you. And probably be better for it.” She held her hands up like she knew he’d protest. “It’s perfectly within her privileges as a comarré. If you’d obtained her through proper channels, you’d know that.”

She lifted her wrist a little higher. “Please, take what you need. There is no one who will know but us.”

Everything human in him said no, but the human side of him had died centuries ago. He stood and took her wrist in his grasp. “We should not be doing this.”

Her other hand lifted and her fingers delicately followed the lines of his vampire face. “You treat me with such kindness. I wonder if you mean to turn my head, but then you refuse to take what I offer—”

“I am not trying to turn your head.” Or was he? He didn’t know what he was doing when she was around. He brought her wrist to his mouth and kissed the tender flesh. “My refusal is for your safety. Something you seem to care very little about. What makes you so bold, comarré?”

She leaned into him, closing her eyes slightly. She swallowed and the sound drew his eyes to her throat. “You make me bold,” she confessed, regret shading her face as soon as the words left her tongue.

He dropped her wrist, slid his hands into her hair, and kissed her, hard. For a moment, she went utterly still, only to melt into him a second later, but her acquiescence was short-lived. She yelped in surprise as though she’d just realized what was happening. His mouth muffled the sound.

He let her go, threw his hands up, and walked away.
“Mi fai impazzire!”
He growled softly, and muttered admonitions to himself. “
Pazzo!
This between us is wrong, crazy, and yet I do not care.” He spun on his heels and came back toward her. “In fact, I tell you, I do care—I care that Arnaud does not touch you again.” He beat his hand against his chest. “I should not feel that way, but I do.”

Her hands covered her mouth. “Because I am comarré and you are vampire.”

“
Si
. As foolish as the lion falling in love with the lamb.”

She went very still and he realized what he’d said too late. Her hands dropped from her mouth. “You…love me?”

He hesitated, frozen by his own words. Then he threw one hand into the air as if none of it mattered. “I love many things. Wine. A well-tailored suit. Art.”

Her expression darkened. “So I am just another
thing
to you.”

“That is not what I meant.” This was going poorly. Very poorly. “I only meant that…” He shook his head. “You make me crazy. I cannot think when you’re around.”

“Why?” She came closer. “What fills your head?”

He stared at her. “What do you think? You. Your sweet scent. Your gilded skin. Your damnable glow. You are like a sickness in my blood.” A sickness he no longer cared to be healed of.

“And Catarina never made you feel that way?”

“Catarina, pah. I am a plague Catarina has not yet found a cure for.” He shook his head. “Why do you not treat me the same way? It would be so much easier.”

“Perhaps if you drank from me, being around me would not be so difficult?” She held her wrist out to him again.

But it wasn’t her wrist he wanted. The depths of his vampire soul cried out for the taut column of her neck. “Perhaps you are right.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms, cradling her head and bending over her before she could protest. Swiftly, he sank his fangs into her throat and drank deeply.

She moaned softly, a sound he’d not heard since he’d last bedded a woman. It spurred him on. He held her tightly, his other hand pressed into the small of her back. The taste of her spun light through his veins and heat into his bones.

In a word,
paradiso
.

He let it spill through him, willingly giving himself over to her forbidden blood. Catarina had never tasted like this.

Then, afraid he would take too much, he released her. Her eyes were wide, her chest heaving. The tiny wounds at her neck began to close almost immediately. She blinked a few times. “You are a very powerful vampire. Already I feel renewed.”

A sharp pain racked his body as the strength of her blood became his. He grabbed on to the workbench and let it run its course. His muscles tensed as hot and cold warred within him, and as the pain subsided, his heart began to beat. He inhaled, filling his lungs with her perfume. “So much…different than Catarina. That’s twice the reaction I get from her.” He blew out a breath and the storm of sensation inside him leveled out. “Are you all right,
cara mia
? You look shocked. I was too rough.”

He took her hand and led her to the stool. She sat, looking a little dazed. “No, you weren’t too rough. You were fine. I just…Arnaud always takes my wrist. Or maybe it was”—her chest rose and fell with a deep breath—“the kiss.”

Her skin was flushed and the rhythm of her pulse matched the beat of his own. Perhaps he
was
falling in love with her. Either way, the thought of her returning to Arnaud made him want to run a sword through Arnaud’s heart. “That was too forward of me. But I am not sorry.”

She smiled a little. “I’m not either. I just never knew a kiss could make you dizzy.”

“Then you’ve never really been kissed before.”

She laughed. “Of course I’ve never been kissed before. I’m comarré.”

“So I am the first to kiss you? And the only one to have pierced your throat?”

She nodded, her cheeks faintly pink. “Yes. You have ruined me,” she teased. “How will I go back to Arnaud now?”

Possessiveness griped Dominic’s spine like steel claws. “You will not go back to him at all.”

“What?”

He glanced over at the sunlight serum still awaiting testing on his workbench. “Arnaud is too dangerous. He doesn’t need the ability to walk in the sun any more than he deserves to have you as his comarré. You will not return to him. I have enough wealth. We’ll leave, start over somewhere new. Then neither of us will ever have to face him again.”

The color bled from her face. “I can’t do that,” she whispered. “I cannot spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.” She grabbed his hands. “You know Arnaud. You know he won’t let either of us leave like that. I cost him money. He would consider you a thief. He will have you made anathema.”

The word cooled Dominic’s ardor, but not by much. He wanted this woman, but if protecting her meant losing his status, could he do it? Could he give up everything for…love? For companionship? The physical contact alone nearly swayed him. He’d lived this solitary life for centuries, long ago accepting that the bulk of his years would be spent alone. With Marissa’s arrival, that acceptance had begun to erode. The ground beneath his feet grew dangerously thin. “There must be a way for you to leave him.”

She went paler still. “There is, but…it’s not something I’ve ever known another comarré to do.”

“Tell me.”

She hesitated, staring deeply into his eyes as if hoping to find her courage there. “I could claim libertas. But then I must fight Arnaud and if I lose, I die.”