“Now to the arrangements for the ceremony,” Lombardi added.
Nico’s stomach lurched as instant panic filled his body. “Ceremony?”
“Yes, the marriage shall be performed with utmost haste. And as soon—”
“Marriage?” Nico croaked.
Lombardi’s beaded eyes looked at him as if Nico was dimwitted. “Yes, the marriage to my daughter of course.”
“I’m sorry, signore, but there seems to be a misunderstanding.” Was the man senile? “We discussed the purchase of your house.”
“Which we agreed on for a fair price. And this price includes a marriage to my daughter. I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?” Nico felt like tearing his hair out. How many glasses of grappa had the man had tonight?
“Everybody in Venice knows that I’d never part with the house unless my daughter gets a husband in the bargain. I’ve been waiting for a long time to make a match for her. I must say, I never figured that she would get such a dashing, young man as her betrothed. I would have settled for somebody much older and less handsome than yourself.”
Lombardi’s words told him everything he needed to know: his daughter was ugly and without any skills or graces to recommend her. And Nico would be the last man to accept a woman like her as his wife.
2
“He wants you to do what?” Dante repeated for the second time.
Nico glared at him. “Are you deaf?”
Dante exchanged a grin with his brother Raphael who was lounging in his armchair in front of the fireplace, one leg casually swung over the armrest while the other was stretched out in front of him. Only in his own home could a man be this relaxed.
While Nico was always welcome in Dante’s and Raphael’s home, at present the feeling of comfort he normally sensed at the brothers’ house escaped him. Inside, he was agitated and wondered whether he was making the biggest mistake of his life. Had he made the right decision?
“You could do worse than get a wife in the bargain,” Raphael said.
“It would merely be a marriage of convenience in any case. A minor annoyance,” Dante added.
“Don’t let your wife hear that, or she might stake you instantly.” Nico pushed a strand of hair out of his face.
“As all of us here know, I married for love. But then we can’t all be that lucky. Besides, I didn’t think you believed in love, Nico.”
“Of course not. It’s all a big lie.”
“Then I don’t really see why you object this much,” Raphael interjected. “If you don’t believe in love, you’ve got nothing to lose by marrying this young woman and—”
“Young woman? Her father looks ancient. For all I know she’s well past her prime. Maybe even in her thirties!”
“God forbid.” Raphael chuckled.
Nico nodded. “That’s right! And most likely she’s as ugly as a piss pot. Or why else would she still be unmarried in her mid-thirties?”
“Now she’s in her mid-thirties?” Dante asked and tossed his brother a sideways glance. “Give it another half hour and she’s an aging spinster in need of a walking cane.”
“And who is to say that she isn’t? Her father is well off. He can provide her with a decent dowry. So why, I’m asking you, has nobody stepped forward to claim this
prize
?” Nico looked from Dante to Raphael, but the two did well to suppress their answers. Their smirks were another matter. “I tell you why: because a forty-year old spinster with a nose like a hawk and a walk as graceful as a washerwoman on her last leg is the last thing any man worth his salt would want to warm his bed.”
“Who says she has to warm your bed?” Dante loosened his cravat and opened the top button of his crisp white shirt. “Why can’t you just send her to your estate on the mainland and have her live there while you stay in Venice?”
“Send the hag to the country?” Nico contemplated the idea. It wasn’t bad at all. And he wouldn’t even have to give her a reason why. She would have to obey her husband’s orders. It would be simple. “She could travel to the mainland the day after the wedding.”
Raphael tossed him a disapproving look. “Don’t you think that’s a little harsh? Sending her away the day after your wedding night?”
“Wedding night?” Nico echoed. “You don’t expect me to fuck a woman who looks like a wicked witch?”
Dante laughed. “I’m afraid, Nico, you’ll have to at least consummate the marriage. Nobody expects you to enjoy it.”
A cold shudder ran down his spine at the thought of bedding Lombardi’s daughter. If she had inherited any features from her father, she would be the ugliest woman he’d ever fucked, and that included some of the cheaper whores he’d frequented on occasion. Sure, he wasn’t all that choosey when it came to bedmates, but at least the few less-than-handsome women he’d been in bed with had made up for their lack of beauty with their knowledge of the carnal arts. Those women had sucked cock better than the pretty ones.
He swallowed hard. “Easy for you to say. Your wife is beautiful. Who wouldn’t want to—”
“Don’t say it,” Dante warned, his voice low and dangerous. “One word of disrespect toward Viola out of your mouth and I’ll toss you into the canal myself.”
Nico’s eyes widened instantly. Landing in the waters of the canal was a death sentence for any vampire. Their cells were so dense and solid that as a result their bodies were much heavier than water and therefore sank like a rock. He would drown. “My apology.”
“Apology accepted.” Dante nodded swiftly. Then his expression darkened. “Don’t think I don’t understand your plight. But we need this house. We need every single house on this block to build a sanctuary for us and our fellow vampires. The Guardians are on our heels, and without a stronghold affording us safety and security, our numbers will diminish. We need to be strong to fight them.”
Nico understood only too well. The Guardians of the Holy Waters, a secret society of Venetian noblemen and merchants, had made it their mission to eradicate each and every vampire in their midst. They had killed many of his friends in the last few years. It was because of this ever increasing threat that the vampires had decided to band together and purchase all houses on the block where Dante and Raphael lived, and to connect them with secret walkways, creating in effect one large fortress in which they could move around safely.
“Have we still not been able to glean any information from the list of names Lorenzo’s wife found?”
“I haven’t heard anything about Marcello having found the cipher yet.” Raphael gave a hopeful smile. “But he’s a smart man. I’m sure he’ll find something.”
Nico nodded. It had been very fortunate that Bianca, Lorenzo’s wife, had found a list with the names of the Guardians in her father’s house. It appeared that her late father had been one of them and prepared the list possibly in an attempt to use it to make a fortune. And for certain, any of his fellow vampires would have paid a pretty penny for it. However, it had turned out that the names were written in some sort of code that Nico and his friends hadn’t been able to decipher yet.
“Good. I hope so. I’d hate for us to be sitting ducks, not knowing who our enemies are.”
Dante let out a deep breath. “Patience, patience. But in the meantime, we have to continue what we’ve started. Enrico just bought the house at the end of the alley. Andrea is in the middle of negotiations for the house between ours and Lorenzo’s, and Carlo thinks he has a lead on another one. We’re making progress.”
Nico picked up the gaze his friend sent him and read the question in it. Could he be relied upon to do the right thing and take over Lombardi’s house despite the burden it came with? Nico felt perspiration build on his neck and felt the urge to pat himself dry but resisted it. He didn’t want to admit to his friends that the entire situation caused him stress. Instead he looked away and changed the subject.
“Maybe I should call on Marcello and see if he needs help. Four eyes see more than two.”
“Suit yourself,” Dante said, sounding slightly annoyed. “But your time would be better spent returning to your negotiations with Signore Lombardi. The man is clearly interested in ridding himself of the house and his daughter in one transaction, and there are plenty of men around who might find the offer tempting.”
“Tempting?” Nico snorted. “Marrying an old spinster whose face is so disagreeable no man in his right mind would want to be in her presence at daylight? I don’t see how that can be tempting.”
“Tempting or not, what’s your objection? You prefer the night anyway. Just blow out the candles.” Dante made it sound easier than it was.
“Just imagine she is somebody else when you fuck her,” Raphael advised. “You probably do that anyway when you visit your whores. So what’s the difference?”
Nico shrugged. Was there a difference? In the dark, weren’t all women the same? Well, maybe not entirely. They all tasted and smelled different. And maybe, just maybe Lombardi’s daughter had an agreeable smell to her. Then fucking her in the dark wouldn’t be as disagreeable after all.
Nico rose from his seat. “I’d better get going. There’s much to be done.” He walked to the door, then glanced back over his shoulder. “I trust you’ll be at my wedding?” When he saw both brothers’ jaws drop in surprise, he couldn’t suppress his grin.
“You already decided?” Dante asked.
“Of course. The house is worth it. The wedding is scheduled for Friday night. You’ll attend with Viola and Isabella?”
“That’s two days from now.”
“No need in wasting time. The quicker I get the ceremony behind me, the faster I can send her to the country.”
And that was exactly what he would do. He’d marry the ugly spinster on Friday night, consummate the marriage post haste and send her on her way to his estate by Monday. Despite his plan, Nico felt as if he’d made a decision which would change his life forever. But he wouldn’t allow it. Once his wife was safely tucked away in the country, he’d resume his bachelor life, fucking whatever woman he wanted and feeding from the sweetest blood available. Nothing would change. Nothing!
3
Nico had insisted on an evening wedding, and Lombardi hadn’t objected. The parlor of the home that would officially become his after the ceremony had been decorated with flowers. Furniture had been removed to make space for the wedding party. Nico had invited only a few of his friends, mostly so as not to raise any suspicion with Signore Lombardi. A man without friends was not to be trusted.
In addition to the brothers Dante and Raphael and their wives Viola and Isabella, Lorenzo had come with his wife Bianca. Both Marcello and Carlo couldn’t be dissuaded to stay away once they’d heard of his impending nuptials. The two bachelors were clearly here to gloat.
Nico nervously shifted from one foot to the other when he finally heard the bride’s footsteps on the stairs as she descended from the upper floor. He cast a look through the open door and saw her walking on her father’s arm. Her gown was of cream silk, making her appear as if she floated on a cloud.
His mouth went dry. This was Oriana, his bride? He looked back up the stairs to reassure himself that no other woman was following the procession. But no, the female on Signore Lombardi’s arm was the only woman apart from his friends’ wives.
Once more he shifted, this time not because of nerves, but to adjust his stiffening prick—for his bride was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever set eyes on. Her hair was a dark chestnut color and was piled high on her head, leaving her graceful neck bare.
Temptation coiled through him. He could see himself taking out the pins from her coiffure, allowing her hair to cascade over her pale shoulders while he dug his hungry fangs into her neck and thrust his insatiable shaft into her quivering sex.
As he tried to find some semblance of composure, a question penetrated his lust-drugged mind. Why was Lombardi so keen on marrying her off by practically throwing her in with the sale of the property? For certain, a stunning beauty like Oriana had suitors aplenty. What was wrong with her?
Still seething about her father’s orders to marry a man she’d never met before, Oriana did not turn her head to look at her future husband and instead stared at the priest who officiated the ceremony. She’d had no choice but to bend to her father’s will. He owned her, just like her husband would own her the moment the marriage vows were spoken.
At least while she’d been subject to her father’s wishes, she’d been able to circumvent his orders often enough: in secret and with the help of the second footman, she’d been able to conduct her scientific experiments. This was her life’s work. It had started two years earlier: one night after a masquerade, she’d returned home accompanied by her footman. In an alley, she’d observed a man bent over a woman as if he were kissing her neck. At first she’d been embarrassed and had looked away, but when she’d glanced back, she’d noticed that the woman’s neck was bloody. Shocked to the core, she’d fled from the scene, her footman chasing after her, surprised at her behavior.
After a night during which she was plagued with nightmares about what she’d seen, she’d woken with a purpose: to prove that she hadn’t imagined the scene from the previous night. She had seen a vampire feeding from a human. For weeks she’d ventured out after dark, always accompanied by her footman, and had searched for the supernatural creatures, until one night, she’d seen one. She was certain now: vampires existed, and they were using humans without their consent. The far-away look in the eyes of the woman the vampire was feeding from was proof of it: he’d somehow drugged her so he could use her. Oriana had felt compassion for the young woman who was no older than herself. And then she’d recognized her: the girl was the maid her father had fired after a few pieces of linen had disappeared. Was she living on the streets now? Had she been easy prey? Her heart had clenched, and she’d searched for a way to help, but she’d been too afraid to approach, scared that the vampire would attack her too.
Ashamed, she’d returned home, and after a sleepless night, she’d woken with the determination to do what lay within her powers. She’d started devouring every scientific book she could lay her hands on and started her research. Now she was at a point where she had a machine which, if it worked, would alert her to the presence of a vampire.