Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampire Legacy) (29 page)

“You know they have no choice but to sentence you to death.”

“I am hoping they do. I can’t live with myself. I’ve murdered someone who was to be my fated female.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Paolo.” Marcus stood up, walking to the one tiny window, with bars on it, overlooking the front entrance of the compound. “I have thought about this many times. You have now lost your wife. I was going to ask you something, one last request before I slip away and am no more.”

“Ask me then. It will be granted before you even finish.”

“I want you to take Anne. Love her, as I would have. She doesn’t understand our ways. She feels for Praetor Artemis, but they know they are not fated. I ask you to pretend you feel something for her, that you feel a fating. I don’t think she would question you.”

“Marcus, this is insanity. Are you of right mind?”

“I am entirely.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Too late. You already said my wish was granted before you heard of it. It is done. I need to hear it from your lips.”

“Marcus.”

“Say it, damn you!” Marcus stood and boomed so loud it shook the building.

Tears streamed down Paolo’s face. “Brother, you cannot ask me to watch you die, then take that miracle that brought you such joy after years of loneliness. Take Anne for myself?”

“With one exception.”

“Anything, Marcus. Tell me you were joking, playing some kind of morbid hangman’s game.”

“I will bed her one last time. Tonight.”

“Of course. I’ll bring her within the hour.”

“I do miss that woman. I do miss her touch. I’ll not tell her of our agreement. You must make it appear completely natural. Do I have your vow?”

“My heart is breaking.”

“Do I have your vow?” Marcus said, raising his voice.

“Yes. Yes, brother.” Paolo answered with a whisper.

“And you will raise the boy. All three of you will see to it he is showered with love, yes?”

“Marcus, I wish I could speak longer with you about this.”

“No, brother. I miss my female. You must bring her to me now. If she won’t come, tie her up and bring her. I will not die without bedding her one more time. It’s for her I die tomorrow. Do not refuse me.”

Paolo didn’t have to tie Anne up. She fell at Marcus’s feet when the door to the bedroom chamber was opened. He instantly kneeled before her, holding her head between his hands, which shook slightly. She noted the binding bracelets on both his wrists, their coppery dull glint catching in the late afternoon sun, clinking as they touched their counterpart on the other wrist. She held one of his wrists with the band in both hers, tracing the ancient symbols embedded in the metal with her fingers. She bent and kissed his wrist, kissed the band, then drew it to her heart and pressed like she could absorb it there. As if she could dissolve the restraints and set his soul free forever. She turned her face up to his.

“Love, you cannot do this. I never took this on expecting you to pay the price for my indiscretion.”

“Anne, it’s my indiscretion. I never should have agreed to the fating with Maya. I killed you just as if I had dismembered you the night I promised to fate her. I knew it almost instantly, but tried to make her feel I would honor my word.”

He covered her mouth with his, then drew her to him with strong hands that pressed her chest to his. “I just couldn’t sleep with her, even kiss her. She knew she would never have my heart. Only you have that. Only you ever will.”

He kissed her again. Anne melted into him, leaning her body against his torso. Her arms came up around his neck. She had been crying so long it seemed like the natural state to her.

“Come, love. Let’s take what we have left.”

Anne knew the difference between this embrace and the embrace Praetor had given her. The kiss was different, too. Marcus prepared her mouth, bringing his tongue to her lips, over her teeth. He let her hook her tongue over his fang. A huge drop of blood fell squarely into his mouth, causing him to shudder. He was urgent with his need to taste her, nibbling on her lips and pulling them into his. She felt he consumed her.

Anne then opened her dress to him, to let him taste the rosy tips denied him for too long. He was brave. He did not cry, but shuddered as she kissed his forehead, his ear, his neck, as he played with her nipples. She came as she straddled his thigh, rocking on him with urgency and burning need. Marcus thoroughly enjoyed her breasts. She whispered into the soft curly hairs at his temple, “These were to be yours for eternity. They will always be, even . . .” Her voice broke.

She could tell he was pushing out the visions of tomorrow. For right now, his head would stay connected to his torso, long enough to feel the texture of her white skin, the salty taste of the flesh that needed his tongue and his lips. He would take from her all her moans and sighs. He would secret them away to a place deep inside his heart, and would take them with him forever.

His lips on her bud caused her to burst into tears. “I will not be able to live without this.” He whispered how he regretted his decision to join with Maya. He should have stolen Anne away to some island somewhere they could love until the Council found them. He would have stolen her away forever, would have willingly taken on the pressure to watch out for Council guards coming after them so she could sleep in the pink tenderness of the morning, in his arms. He whispered how he loved her, had always loved her, and would always love her, somehow.

“How many days could we have had? Maybe one or two more? It would have been worth it.” His sigh made her tingle. “We could have had a few days, until they found us. Maybe we should have.”

Marcus spoke the ancient words to Anne’s womb. Her body constricted and she took in air, her body involuntarily reacting to his mysterious words that celebrated the life force that would grow there. He spoke as he gently kissed and sucked the juiciness of her fruit of life. His body knew hers and how to make her insides come alive. He would remain, a part of him would, inside her forever. Anne knew that she carried his child, created from the first time they made love.

For now, the most beautiful love in the universe would have to end come morning. Marcus hoped as he placed his cock inside her warm folds, that Paolo would learn to worship this holy place as he had, that he would feel something like he did as he thrust inside her, stroking and fueling her passion, and covering her insides with his seed over and over again. Perhaps, on the eve of his death, he could give her a child. If there was a God, and he never had believed in one before, this God would find it in his heart to give her a child she could love and remember him by. Just one more miracle. He needed just one more.

Anne could not be sated. She drank from him in long feedings that nearly caused his vision to disappear. Blackness came upon him. He saw she felt the energy and the golden fating come over them both. More tears. He drank liberally from her, biting her as the claiming ritual demanded, on her neck. The holy elixir filled his body with a glow that numbed the reality of their short time left.

Anne convulsed, then silently wept as he claimed her neck.

“Not now. You must not cry now. Love me, Anne. Love me enough for the centuries we will be apart. Maybe there will be a time we will be together. Humans have this, maybe there is a place for us, for our love.”

She was trying to be very brave. But it was difficult to look at her eyes and not see the utter sadness there. “Bear me a child, my love. Bring a child into the world for me. Can you do this for me? Just one more thing I ask of your body? Bring to the world something made from us both, together.”

She nodded. “You will have your wish. I will get big with a healthy child. I will watch him grow up and marry. I will watch our grandchildren. You must understand I will make this happen, Marcus. This will happen, love. They will know and love you as I have. They will know of the wonderful lineage from which they came.”

He nodded his head. “I give . . . you . . . life. . . . I leave my love with your womb.”

There were no more tears to cry by morning. They had fed from each other, made love more times than even Anne could count. They watched the orange tint fade, and with it, their time together.

“No tears. I go a happy man that I have loved you.”

“I am fulfilled, Marcus. Anything else is bonus.”

They parted as Marcus prepared for the sentencing.

Chapter 25

The great hall was filled to capacity. Half the audience, those from Maya’s family side, were hostile, huffing and flouncing in obvious disapproval of the entire proceedings. They aimed nasty stares at anyone related to Marcus, the coven’s admitted Golden Boy, the man who was the object of desire for any unattached lady, vampire or otherwise. Young females grew up hoping, in fact, that they would come to puberty and discover their fate was tied to Marcus.

Maya’s family didn’t appreciate the show of relief coming from other goldens that Maya was gone. She had caused trouble with the group for decades. Her demands were loud, her decisions arbitrary. She got her way most of the time, like her mother, Aurora, because fighting either of the two women was more distasteful than just agreeing to their terms. And it was rumored they cast spells and were more witch than they openly admitted.

Now Marcus would pay for Maya’s death with his own life.

Aurora gathered her family members like a mother hen. Her sorrow was very public and loud. Maya’s father was still alive somewhere, but even Aurora’s fated male could not stand to be in her company and had sought the arms of other women far away from Genoa and rarely came home. He did not do so today, either. Not that any of the coven blamed him.

In contrast, Marcus’s side was reserved, except for their quiet sniffling. In mourning already, many of them wished the ordeal over and felt guilty for those thoughts. At Marcus’s request, Lucius was allowed to come to the hearing, something Marcus had promised the boy on his final visit. At six years of age, Lucius was going to have to understand quickly his part in this passion play. And running from it, at any age, was never Marcus’s style.

But the sight of Lucius was difficult for all of Marcus’s family. In their final show of support for their favorite son, they stood by his decision, and each braced him, hugged him, told him how brave he was and said, though they denied it on the inside, they were glad he was there.

Anne sat between Praetor Artemis and Laurel. Paolo sat next to Lucius, who insisted on sitting behind the seat Marcus would take when he was led in, a spot traditionally saved for the mate. It was obviously the right choice, under the circumstances.

Marcus entered through a side door just ahead of the council in their red robes. Young female attendants, who, thankfully, were more respectfully dressed in robes, wheeled in the two infirmed ones. Anne looked up at Praetor and he managed a smile.

Marcus found his seat, but first leaned in to kiss the boy then shake Paolo’s hand. His eyes connected with Anne’s and she tried to look satisfied, but at last it was impossible. She broke from the row and ran to his arms as Maya’s side of the aisle let out gasps of outrage.

“We agreed. You need your strength. Don’t trouble yourself.” Marcus leaned in to her ear. “I can feel the life I started in your belly. Bring him up with love, not hate. Don’t let him avenge me, Anne. Raise him to be strong, but raise him to love as I have loved you.”

She nodded before they were asked to separate. Marcus gave a bow to his family in a general greeting, and sat down. This last action caused the side of the room behind him to stir. Several were sobbing. Anne sat up as straight as she could, staring at the back of the man she might only be able to see for a few more minutes.

Looking old beyond his time, the Council leader rose. “We are gathered here this day to pronounce sentence on the convicted murderer of one Maya D’Alessandro. Will the condemned please rise and hear sentence?”

Marcus rose, his white silk shirt billowing out behind the tail tucked into his dark pants. He wore his tall leather boots. Anne realized, with sudden horror, that Marcus wore the same outfit he’d worn that day she had met him in at the Starbucks, not so long ago. She remembered his tall lanky frame in those boots as he got her coffee. She swallowed the salty tears, choking on a sob. Praetor stretched his arm around her and brought her head to his chest. Laurel clasped Anne’s fingers and laid her cheek against the hand on Anne’s shoulder. Anne was grateful for the support, feeling like an old book carefully placed between two substantial bookends.

“Marcus Monteleone—”

“Excuse me, Head Council.” Paolo stood up. “I have something you must hear.”

Maya’s side of the room burst into shouts and catcalls. Anne knew they took this as an offense, so eager were they for Marcus’s blood. They didn’t want to be denied one more chance to show their indignation and outrage.

“This is highly irregular.” Several of the Council conferred in whispers and nods. “This has to do with the sentencing?”

“I believe it does.” Paolo hadn’t waited for an invitation. He made his way up to a lectern at the middle of the center aisle, with Lucius in tow, who looked just as confused as Marcus. Laurel squeezed Anne’s hand. When Anne looked at Laurel, she saw Laurel give a faint smile to Paolo.

The audience gasped when Paolo raised Lucius up and set him on the top shelf of the lectern. He held the tiny hands in his large ones. Paolo’s face was lined with tears. Lucius began to cry openly, his lower lip quivering. The poor boy was scared silly. Marcus moved, as if about to come to his aid, but Paolo gave him a glance and a gesture with the palm of his hand, telling him to stop.

The Council members were stunned into inaction.

“Lucius,” Paulo began, taking a deep breath and releasing it. “I am your father.”

Both sides of the room erupted. One of Maya’s male relatives grabbed Paolo and tried to wrestle him to the ground. He was restrained, but not after ripping the sleeve from Paolo’s dark coat. Paolo recovered, soothed his sleeveless jacket, and then resumed his conversation with Lucius as if the two of them were alone in a room somewhere.