Dark Symphony (33 page)

 Antonietta felt a female presence joining them, working with Byron even as they chanted. Another joined in, Vlad, strong and sure, providing a steady flow of energy to the two working on Paul. Eleanor remained behind when Byron pulled out. Antonietta took the opportunity to wash her hands in Paul's bathroom, feeling slightly ill with so much of her cousin's blood on her. She hurried back to Byron's side.

 "Antonietta. I have to give him my blood. Even a mortal transfusion would not save him. Are you certain you can live with this decision? Perhaps it would be better if you broke off the contact with me while I do this."

 "I'll see it through. You're doing this for me. The least I can do is provide you with energy." She reached out her hand, finding his face unerringly. "I know you're tired, and I feel you're afraid that whatever you have to do will upset me, but it won't. I trust you, Byron."

 He leaned into her, brushed her lips gently with his. She was in darkness, but she felt every sensation, as closely connected as they were. She felt the burning pain as he cut his wrist, a terrible, gaping wound. She felt the way Paul's mouth clamped on, the drawing of Byron's lifeblood from his body. Shock numbed her, protected her, just for a moment. She fought her way past that protective barrier. There was realization that Byron had used his own teeth to tear his wrist. That Paul was devouring the lifesaving blood instead of being transfused. That the smell of blood was producing a craving she couldn't understand in herself. Instead of being repelled, she was fascinated. She was also very aware that Byron was monitoring her reaction.

 Antonietta lifted her chin, continued to chant, fought her human reactions, and concentrated on what they were doing, saving her beloved cousin's life. Byron had taken an enormous chance in allowing her to know what he was. He had entrusted her with a secret even larger than her own. She had Jaguar in her lineage. He was something altogether different. Something loathed and feared by humans. He was… vampire.

 No! Byron's protest was sharp. Never that. I am not un-dead.

 Deliberately, Antonietta leaned into him again, framed his face with her hands. While her cousin fed from him, she found his mouth with hers. You amaze me, Byron. She poured her gratitude and her feelings, as confused as they were, into her kiss, trying to tell him without words what it meant that he trusted her enough to save Paul's life in the only way possible.

 Tears glittered for a moment in Byron's eyes. He had to look away from his sister and her life mate. Antonietta had given him a gift more priceless than seeing in colors. She gave him acceptance.

 "No more, Byron," Vlad said abruptly. "You are already too weak."

 Antonietta felt him sway, his energy gone, his body drained of his enormous strength. He staggered and sat down abruptly, despite her trying to catch him.

 "What's wrong with him? Eleanor? Vlad? Tell me what's wrong with him?" Panic rose fast, a terrible fear in her heart and lungs.

 "He has not fed this night," Vlad answered calmly. "Healing as he did, holding Paul to earth while doing so and giving him blood, takes a toll. I will take care of his need. Eleanor will need help, too. You are being very brave, Antonietta."

 "I haven't done anything to help at all. If Byron needs blood, he can take mine."

 There was a sudden stillness in the room. Even Eleanor, deep within Paul's body, was quiet. "Cam mia, you steal my heart with your generosity. Vlad will provide what is needed."

 "Vlad is not your life mate. I am. I am quite able to provide for you." Her neck throbbed and burned. Her breasts ached. Sexual hunger swirled in the pit of her stomach and spread a slow, burning heat through her body. Excitement blossomed, yet at the same time she tried to analyze why she would feel such a need to provide blood for him.

 Byron pulled her into his arms. "There is no other like you, bella." In truth, just the thought of you giving me your blood fills me with a hunger I dare not name. We are not alone. Allow Vlad to give me his powerful blood, and when we are alone, I will thank you properly.

 She could hear the aching sexual hunger in his voice. "Is Vlad's blood more powerful than mine? Will it make a difference?" She tried to ignore the answering fire in her bloodstream.

 "Yes, his blood will give me energy very quickly."

 "What does it feel like?"

 "Merge with me, Antonietta." Byron wrapped one arm around her waist and took Vlad's wrist to his mouth.

 The rush hit him hard, hit her. Power pouring into his starved body. Cells and tissue, muscle and bone soaked up the life-giving fluid greedily. She tried to detach herself, to feel horror at the thought of Byron drinking blood, but she saw his power, felt his power. When he had taken what he needed, she realized she was barely breathing.

 "How do you stop the blood from flowing?"

 "We close the pinpricks with our tongue. The healing agent seals the wound and if we desire, the skin itself."

 Antonietta felt a blush stealing up her neck and face. There had been a bite on her neck; Tasha spotted it. "You've taken my blood, haven't you?"

 "Of course; you are my life mate." Deliberately, Byron caught the nape of her neck and dragged her to him, his mouth taking possession of hers, sharing the flavor and power of Carpathian blood. His tongue swept inside her mouth, tangling with hers, a primal mating while her senses leapt to life, every nerve ending on overload.

 Eleanor pulled out of Paul's body and into her own, swaying with weariness. "It is done, Antonietta. He will live."

 Vlad swept his life mate into his arms. "You are a miracle worker, Eleanor."

 "She is," Byron agreed. "Grazie, both of you. I could not have saved him without your help."

 "I guess my dinner party is thoroughly ruined. You must have such a bad impression of my family." It hit Antonietta that if Eleanor and Vlad were like Byron, they would have heard the police in the lower stories, conducting interviews with staff with sealing off the crime scene. "Poor Enrico deserved better than being shoved down a laundry chute. I have no idea what is happening in my own home."

 "At least they wrapped him in the best lace available."

 "That's not funny."

 Vlad kept Eleanor firmly in his arms. "Welcome to the family, Antonietta. It has been our pleasure to meet you. I need to take my life mate home and care for her."

 "Grazie for all you have done, both of you. The next time we meet, hopefully things will be back to normal."

 "Until then."

 Antonietta listened, but there were no footsteps. She knew they were no longer in the room. "How do you do that? Just vanish into thin air? Not use doors?"

 "I will teach you." He pulled a chair to the edge of the bed. "Paul will be different, more aware, as you are. His hearing, his sight, everything will be that much more acute. And I can always touch his mind. It will be a different path than ours, but the connection will be there."

 "Did you pick up on what happened to him?"

 "I am going to wake him briefly so we can talk. He will be weak. His body does not have the ability to heal as quickly as mine does." Byron took her hand. "I know you have many questions for me. I will answer all of them before the night is over." He brought her fingers to his mouth, nibbled on the sensitive pads. "Paul. Paul, come back to us now. You can rest soon, but you need to speak with Antonietta. You want to tell her something. It is very important to you to tell her the truth."

 Antonietta heard the compulsion buried in his voice, was astonished that she recognized it for what it was. "Your voice is hypnotic, isn't it?"

 "Yes, when I choose."

 Paul stirred, moaned softly. "Toni?"

 "I'm here, Paul." She tugged her hand free to rest her palm on her cousin. "You're going to live, but you mustn't move around too much."

 "I had strange dreams."

 "I know. It can happen that way, Paul. How did this happen? Tell me. We need to talk to the police."

 "No. You can't do that, Toni. Promise me. Please promise me you won't go to the police." His agitation rose sharply.

 Byron rested a hand on his shoulder, calming him instantly. "Tell us, Paul. We will handle whatever it is together." Do not mention the authorities again. He will undo all we have wrought.

 "I know you thought I was stealing from the family, Toni. I don't blame you for believing that. I wanted you to think I was gambling again."

 "Why, Paul?" There was hurt in her voice, pain in her heart.

 Byron's fingers curled around the nape of her neck, began a slow, soothing massage to ease the tension out of her.

 "I went to a party a few months ago on a yacht. The owner had a priceless painting on display. It was one of ours, Toni. I went immediately to the police, and they told me they had been investigating the theft of treasures from prominent families for months. I knew someone in our family had to be helping whoever was behind the thefts. No one knew the way to the vaults, let alone the codes to get in, except you, Nonno, and Justine. I knew you and Nonno would never sell out our family. So I volunteered to help the police find the thieves."

 "Paul, what were you thinking?"

 "I was perfect for it. I already had the bad reputation. I always needed money. I was believable. It was easy enough to start paying attention to Justine." Paul's voice was weak, his breathing labored. "She was under suspicion, the one person who would have access to all the security codes. And she would know the way to the art rooms and the vaults."

 "This is too hard for you," Antonietta said. "We'll talk later when you're stronger."

 Paul's hand covered hers. "I fell in love with her, Toni. I know you're angry with her, and she probably deserves to be in jail, but I'm asking you to let her go. Tell her to go back to America. Just don't put her in jail."

 Byron shook his head. She is not involved in any conspiracy other than trying to help Paul find a way to pay off his gambling debts. She has never stolen anything from the Scarletti family. Unlike your family, Justine is easy enough to read.

 "I would never believe such a thing of her. After all these years, why would she suddenly decide to steal?" Antonietta asked Paul.

 "It has to be her. There is no one else," Paul said. "She had access to everything. She's the one who drew me a map to the vault and gave me the access code."

 "You were willing to die instead of going to a hospital so she wouldn't go to jail? Lie and take the blame for missing objects, for Justine? Paul, you aren't thinking clearly. You should have come to me with this immediately."

 Antonietta, Justine did not steal. She regretted giving Paul the codes and the map. She wanted to give him money, but he refused. She believed he was in trouble and wanted him to tell you, but he refused that option. He convinced her he would be in danger from the men he owed money to. It is clear he thought she would involve him in the theft ring, but she did the only other thing she could. She gave him a map and the codes. I felt it was a betrayal of your friendship. But that is all it was. She is not involved in any theft ring.

 "I'm not going to turn Justine over to the police, Paul. But you need to tell me who did this to you. They have to be dealt with."

 "Stay out of it, Toni. These people play for keeps."

 He did not see his attackers. There is nothing he can tell us about the men who assaulted him. The thing uppermost in his mind is protecting Justine.

 "Send him to sleep. I'll let Tasha and Justine in to watch over him tonight. Nonno must have been informed by now; I can't see Franco keeping it from him."

 You know Marita is more likely to be the person stealing and handing the goods over to someone else. And it was the elder Demonesini she was going to meet with the Handel score.

 Franco will be devastated if it is so. She made her way to the sitting room while Byron issued the order for Paul to sleep. Tasha and Justine practically fell into the room with Franco and Don Giovanni on their heels.

 "He is alive," Antonietta reported. "Just barely. He needs sleep. And plenty of liquids. Can you clean him up and fix the bed? We're both exhausted. Byron has a talent for healing much greater than mine, and he did most of the work."

 "I would like to take Antonietta to my home where she can rest," Byron added.

 I can't go anywhere.

 Paul will not wake until we return. Just enough for them to give him fluids.

 Too much is happening.

 I need you this night, Antonietta.

 "Your family excused themselves," Don Giovanni explained. "They could see we were uneasy. I'm afraid we didn't make much of an impression on them, my boy."

 "They understood," Byron assured. "Have the police left?"

 "They've questioned everyone but Paul and the two of you. We said Paul was out, and you two would be available tomorrow," Franco said.

 "Grazie, Franco," Antonietta said, "I doubt if I could sit through more of their questions."

 Byron took Antonietta's hand firmly in his. "Good night everyone, we will return tomorrow evening."

 "What are we doing?" Antonietta lifted her face to the wind. She hadn't been out on the battlements in years. It was far too dangerous. Even with Byron, she was afraid. It would only take one careless slip, and she would fall to her death. When she inhaled, she could scent the faint odor of the cat's presence lingering. The idea that the jaguar could be near, could be watching them at that very moment, was terrifying.

 "I am going to take you flying. You said you wanted to try. The sky is clear, just a trace of fog rolling in. I think you will enjoy it after such a difficult evening." She studied his voice not the words. "What is it, Byron?" He pulled her to him, buried his face against her neck. "You are in my keeping, Antonietta; always your safety comes before all else. Your acceptance of what and who I am means everything to me. I want to give you something special. Something you will always remember."

 Her fingertips moved over his face. Byron found it curiously intimate each time she read his expression. There was a caress lingering on his skin whether she knew it or not. He knew she was reading his apprehension of what was to come. She was too connected to him. So much had happened from the moment she awakened, so much more would be demanded of her.