Accidentally Married to…a Vampire?(Accidentally Yours #2)(41)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Glamouring a human was only considered socially acceptable under very specific circumstances—like covering up an accident or wiping the mind of a human who’d discovered their existence. But only a low class vampire, unable to depend on his or her charm or wit, stooped to glamouring a love interest. It was considered unsportsmanlike. When it came to mates, it was considered a reproachable act of deception that brought the highest dishonor to a vampire.

He’d simply have to make an exception. After all, it was not as if he could keep her glamoured forever. Eventually, he’d have to find a legitimate way to convince her to stay. He’d start by explaining why being in the company of a Demilord was dangerous even on a good day. Unlike vampires, Demilords held the reputation of having no honor. They only cared about killing whoever was on their hit list. Innocent bystanders were of no concern. Then there was the fact that every vampire on the planet hated them for being such arrogant bastards. It said a lot to be thought of as arrogant by his people—the official sponsors of arrogance.

The page loaded and the blinking dot suddenly appeared on the screen.

Thank the gods. She was only a few hours ahead. She’d stopped to rest! He drilled down on the map and a huge smile swept across his face.

“The Bar!” He’d been there before. He could sift to her!

His smile dropped off a cliff. Vergine Sacra! What the hell was Helena doing in that dive? He’d just been there last month trying to track down an exceptionally violent group of Obscuros. He’d only managed to catch and kill five of the thirteen. His cold heart turned to ice, then to fire. If that bastard Demilord had anything to do with her being there, he’d not only kill the son of a bitch, but he’d pluck out his eyes and break every bone in his body first.

Niccolo picked up his cell. “Viktor. Get up. It’s time for me to kill a sacred cow.”

“You want to kill a cow?” Viktor said with a groggy voice, half asleep.

Niccolo growled. “I’m going to kill Andrus tonight after I get Helena somewhere safe. I’m sifting ahead. I’ll see you there.”

“Yes, sir,” Viktor responded. “I’ll try and catch a few non-Forbiddens on the way. I have a feeling you’re going to need blood by the time I get there.”

Niccolo winced. He did need to feed, but bagged blood was all he could stomach—just barely. Perhaps his body would return to normal once he drank from Helena and turned her.

“No thanks. Just get there as quickly as you can; I don’t know what I might find when I arrive.”

***

Armed with his two favorite ancient swords crisscrossed over his back, hidden under his duster, Niccolo closed his eyes and visualized the alley behind the dive bar where he’d killed a few contemptible Obscuros the month before. As his feet materialized on the wet asphalt next to the overflowing dumpster, his senses shifted to warrior mode, ready for anything. Gratefully, the trip had not entirely purged him of his waning, precious strength.

Suddenly, he heard the loud roar of a crowd. Maybe there was one of those silly football games on tonight? Silly humans with their mock battles. If they wanted real excitement, they should hunt Obscuros. Now, there was something worth cheering for.

He pushed his finger through the heavy deadbolt of the backdoor and yanked it open. He could hear the crowd more clearly now, they were chanting…Lena?

“Helena!” He bolted through the dimly lit, long hallway that led past the bathrooms into the main room. There, in the corner, was Helena passionately kissing…“That f**king Demilord. I’ll kill him!” His fist balled tightly as he captured the unmistakable emotion of lust radiating from Helena.

Bloody hell! This couldn’t be happening! She was his mate. They were bonded. There was no possible way she could ever want another as long as his heart still beat—some said even after that.

And why the bloody hell are these men chanting her name?

***

Helena’s mind swirled with tequila as Andrus embraced her in a soul-clenching kiss. His warm strong muscles were hard against her soft body, and from the moment his lips touched hers, she almost felt the crater-size hole—that Niccolo had left behind—filling up. Almost.

From the corner of her mind, she suddenly heard Joe and his friends howling and cheering. “That’s it Lena! Take the bull by the horns, girl! Show him who’s boss!”

Boy, Joe had been right. There was kissing and then there was kissing. Joe showed her how to put her whole body into it, to make love to a man’s mouth with her tongue. Joe was a genius. No wonder he’d never been dumped.

I can’t wait to try this out on Niccolo.

Damn it! She just couldn’t stop thinking about Niccolo. Not even the top-shelf tequila dulled her feelings. It was so damned frustrating! Well, once the bond was broken, she’d be free to make out with any man, and her heart would be free to enjoy it. Andrus was first on her list. He was a great kisser.

Yeah, but he’s no Niccolo, is he? In fact, you’re so sick in love with Niccolo that right now, your mind is making you believe he’s standing next to you while you’re kissing his enemy.

“Lena!” Niccolo barked.

Andrus released Helena and spun her behind him.

Niccolo’s nostrils flared and chest heaved. He took a step toward Andrus, snarling, putting them face to face. Helena noticed that Niccolo was about four inches taller. It was odd thinking of Andrus as the smaller one when he was absolutely huge.

“I will not let you take your anger out on her, Executioner,” Andrus said.

Niccolo raised a brow. “The name is Niccolo. And I could ever hurt my bride. You, however…”

Andrus laughed right in his face. “Any time, leech.”

“Take it outside you two!” Fernando called out from behind the bar while pouring a beer. He didn’t look at all worried. With this crowd maybe brawling was the norm. It would explain why there were no tables; they’d just get in the way of a good Texan leather-daddy catfight.

Niccolo nodded. “You heard the human,” he said, his whisper so low that only Andrus and she could hear.

“Wait!” Helena begged. Every set of eyes in the room followed as Helena trailed behind the two seething warriors. They huffed and cursed at each, soaring past the bathrooms and disappearing out the back door.

“Wait! Niccolo! Andrus! Stop! Please,” she pleaded again.

She caught the heavy door with her palms—just before it slammed closed in her face. She pushed hard and spilled outside into the dimly lit alley. Her heart skipped as her eyes registered a sight she wasn’t expecting: instead of facing off with each other, the two enormous warriors were staring down a gang of savage-looking men dressed in torn jeans and mud-caked leather jackets.