Accidentally Married to…a Vampire?(Accidentally Yours #2)(23)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

He reached for the tarnished brass doorknob, hoping and praying this would be the last time his shadow darkened the doorstep of the Demilord compound.

He pushed open the heavy oak door and found Antonio in his usual place behind his dimly lit desk, dark eyes buried in the thick leather bound text.

Antonio had occupied the same Victorian in Sausalito, north of San Francisco, for the last one hundred years. Nothing in it ever changed. Not one piece of dark furniture, nor the dusty bookshelves that reached the vaulted ceiling. Antonio, too, was trapped in his world, and Andrus knew this was the one reason he could trust his putrid excuse of a leader to deliver what he’d promised: escape.

“You summoned me, Sir?” Andrus’ tone danced on the dangerous precipice between respect and mockery.

Without lifting his hateful eyes from the text, Antonio said, “You’re late as usual. Sit the f**k down.”

Andrus took his time slipping off his black leather duster, which matched his standard leather pants and boots, and threw it on the back of the chair across from Antonio’s desk before he complied.

Antonio continued scanning the pages, flipping one after another.

“Is that the same damned book you were reading last time I was here?” Andrus criticized.

Antonio’s head snapped up. “You idiot. This is the only remaining book of the Oracle of Delphi.”

Holly hell. How did he get his hands on something like that? “Didn’t know she wrote,” Andrus replied, masking his astonishment. According to legend, her books continued rewriting themselves in spite of her death sixteen-hundred years ago. But the books were supposedly destroyed by Julius Caesar in the fires of Alexandria.

Antonio ignored Andrus’ comment. “I’ve been waiting for a sign. And it’s finally come—the moment we’ve waited for.”

Only the tick of Andrus’ left eye alluded to his excitement. “Finally. I was beginning to think I might have to kill you to get you to move.” He leaned back into the chair, arms crossed against his chest.

Antonio slammed his fist into the desk, his eyes slowly burning into Andrus.

Andrus was unimpressed.

Yes, like him, Antonio was a large man built for battle. But Andrus had been taking on monsters ten times more fearsome for centuries now. All Antonio ever did was sit behind his goddamned desk, kissing the gods’ asses. He’d never once lifted a finger for Andrus or his men while they endured day after day of hell: killing, tracking….killing some more.

Antonio growled. “Anything worth having is worth doing right. So shut the f**k up, and go kill the bitch as planned.”

Andrus met his glare. “I’ll do my part. You just remember that when I do, justice will come for you. And by justice, I mean me.”

Antonio’s eyes rolled as he laughed. “The book has spoken—you will not find me here when you return.”

A spark of joy lit Andrus’ face. “You mean the gods have granted my wish, and you are to be injected with molten lava then disemboweled?”

Antonio slammed the heavy book shut. “The book says that I am to leave. You now lead the Demilords.”

Fucking great. Andrus stood and swiped his leather coat and headed for the door. “I’ll still hunt you down when this is over.” He slammed the door behind him.

So close now, he thought.

***

Leaning over the white marble sink, Helena stared into the mirror. How could she have let this happen? “You’re disgusting!” she scorned herself.

She splashed warm water on her unusually pale face—another irritating reminder of how she’d let Niccolo change her. This time of year, she’d normally have a nice golden glow. She used to spend almost every weekend, well into the fall, at the beach. How could she have given up so much?

Niccolo’s arduous words pummeled her mind. “You’re already my wife, Helena,” he’d viciously said last night. Why hadn’t he told her before?

Cold, heartbeatless bastard. She’d actually thought he loved her. Was she living in some delusional trance the last two months? And he actually had his men take away my laptop and cell! Bastard!

Helena slipped on her favorite pair of jeans, her Uggs, and low-cut pink angora sweater.

She made sure the blinds were drawn and then casually strolled to the front door. She took a deep breath and prepared for an Oscar-worthy performance. Her life depended on it.

As expected, she found Viktor at his post, arms crossed with a bland look on his face. She practically had to unhinge her head to accommodate the upward angle to look him in the eyes. Viktor was at least seven feet tall, had fierce cobalt blue eyes, chest length blond hair, and was built like a Viking tank. Like Niccolo, he always wore the standard black clothes. Today it was black leather pants, rich, dark brown leather boots, and a thick black turtleneck.

He was almost as breathtaking as Niccolo. Damned beautiful vampires. Hate them all!

“Yes?” He raised one golden brow.

Helena spoke in a sugary sweet tone, “I need your help opening a bottle in the kitchen.”

He didn’t flinch. “I’m here to guard you, not be your servant.”

“No,” Helena corrected politely, “You’re here to take care of me in Niccolo’s absence, which includes ensuring I get fed properly.”

Viktor still didn’t move. Not an inch.

“Okay. Fine. Let’s call him and ask.” Helena reached for the cell phone clipped to Viktor’s belt.

Viktor gently pushed her hand away.

She shook her head and walked toward the kitchen. It was time to put some of her keen observations to good use. Several weeks ago, Helena had casually commented to Viktor how she missed her mother. His eyes had turned a slightly darker hue. Then he’d responded, “Treasure each moment before they are gone.”

Viktor had experienced loss.

Was it because he’d outlived everyone he ever loved? She felt guilty using his pain against him, but it was the lesser-evil of options.

“Viktor, come on. Don’t be like this. I’m only going to be human for six more days. Don’t I have the right to say goodbye to the things I love? My family? My life? To my favorite foods?” She grabbed the can of clam chowder, clamped the opener down, and began turning.

Viktor was suddenly at her side, towering over her. “What do you need?”

It worked. Her eyes flashed to the bottle of wine on the counter.

“Cocktails, before noon?” he questioned.

She shrugged. “It’s always happy hour somewhere in the world. Right now, that somewhere is here. Niccolo only has those weird corkscrews they use in restaurants.” She continued opening the can.