Accidentally Married to…a Vampire?(Accidentally Yours #2)(44)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

He wasn’t far off.

After several moments of being hurled through the air, his head landed on a sharp rock. The pain ricocheted through his skull. A dark silhouette of a woman appeared over him, and even in the shroud of darkness, he could see she wasn’t of this world. Before he had a chance to cry out from the crippling pain, she clamped her cold mouth over his sweaty, dirty neck. He was instantly catapulted into the bliss of her bite.

When he awoke several days later, it was only miles from where his voyage had been waylaid, but it was leagues past his old life.

“Who are you?” he’d asked, unable to wiggle more than a finger. The pain was unbearable, like shards of glass flowing through his veins.

She was lying next to him and staring at the stars above. “My sweet man, how refreshing you are. It is not so much about who I am, but who you will become.”

From those first moments, he recalled how something about her was ominous, yet magnetic.

Days later, when he awoke a second time, he learned the raw, despicable truth. But nothing mattered aside from pleasing her. He’d forgotten all about his beloved brothers and loyal men, his father’s plundered lands. Like a moth to a flame, he was under her spell, blind to the undeniable wrongness of what she’d done to him: she’d stolen his life.

Years later, he’d discover he was compelled to obey her. Partly because of their blood bond, partly because she was skilled at the fine art of glamour. Eventually, through pure grit and toil, he would build a tolerance to her will. But before that day took place, centuries would slip through his fingers in an endless blur. So many goddamned years. So many battles. So much death by his hand. He was darkness and savored the awesome power that came with it. He was a vampire. The Queen’s General.

One evening, near the border of Scotland in the queen’s castle—a recent acquisition from a mysteriously deceased lord—the axis in Niccolo’s world tilted once again. Niccolo had been ordered to kill an entire village.

“My queen, surely those people do not need to be eliminated. They have done nothing wrong except refuse to bow when you rode through.”

And merely called you the bride of the devil a dozen or so times and instructed the children to pelt you with rocks. No harm to foul.

She sauntered over to a plush red velvet chair by the fireplace and flopped down, throwing her legs over the armrest. “They’ve disrespected me, the Queen, and for this, they must die. I want them taken care of before I depart for Paris.”

He felt the strength of his will snap into place for the first time in centuries. He did not stop to ask why or reflect upon the dark path he’d been treading. He simply basked in his regained freewill, straightened his back, and said, “I will not kill innocent people simply to stroke your ego.”

Before he blinked, the queen was on him, gripping his throat, gleaming white fangs exposed. “Then I will go to your pretty little Italian village and kill the whole lot of DiContis. Even the children. I’ll suck them dry and make you watch your great nieces and nephews wither into nothing. I seem to recall there is one young woman who is the exact likeness of your sweet, dead mother.”

He growled as he saw the truth in her eyes. She would follow through.

With a grunt of frustration, Reyna released him. “Niccolo, do not force my hand. It is such a crude way to gain compliance, and think of the consequences. In the end, you will be compelled to do my bidding, and not only will your descendants die, but I will see justice served to the clan that has assaulted my honor.”

Niccolo finally understood; he would do her bidding, or she would kill the people he cared for. When they were long gone and dead, she’d find some other leverage. Perhaps an orphanage. Or ten. There was no threat beneath her. Nothing she wouldn’t do to prove her power.

It was astounding that the gods continued to let her live on.

“Then kill me. Though the thought of displeasing you pains me, committing such an atrocity would pain me more.” He stared boldly into her eyes. He was prepared for the likely outcome of losing his head. So be it.

“Ugh!” She rolled her eyes. “You’re a vampire, Niccolo! Killing is what we do.”

“Vampire, yes. Ruthless, as well. Monster, I am no longer. I will not kill an entire village, children included, just to please you.” His eyes did not waiver from her glare, and she seemed to understand that her power over him, her ability to glamour him, had dwindled.

She stomped her foot. “You are so stubborn, Niccolo. Fine. Be so goddamned honorable.” She waived her pale hand through air and walked over to small table in the corner of her chamber to pour a glass of red wine. “Very well, you win. Be off with you and check to be sure my carriage is draped properly.”

Niccolo felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He knew this wasn’t over. The queen never backed down. She was merely reformulating her strategy.

A chill that would stay with him for the next millennium embedded in his very soul.

“Sì, my queen.”

***

“I really hate her,” Helena said. “It almost makes me want to become a vampire just so I’d be strong enough to take her down myself. What an evil, horrible woman!”

Niccolo nodded. “So you see, Helena, why I did not tell you of my history. It is full of shame and darkness.”

“What? Are you joking? She used your goodness against you! End of story. You can’t possibly blame yourself.”

Niccolo couldn’t begin to convey the depths of his guilt for the things he’d done. In fact, he never understood why the gods permitted him to live considering he’d blatantly violated the Pact dozens of times. In any case, after his moral-reawakening, he vowed to make amends for the past.

“So, what happened? What did she do when you disobeyed her?” Helena hadn’t moved an inch the entire time Niccolo spoke.

“She’d anticipated my reaction. Several days earlier, she turned a man I’d left for dead. He was a self-proclaimed demon hunter who killed not only a fair amount of vampires—innocent ones who were living in accordance with the Pact—but also a large count of humans…anyone believed to be a demon or other worldly creature. His aura was one of the blackest I’d ever seen.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She needed a henchmen to do her dirty work. Rodrigo executed my entire village right after he took care of the clan in Scotland. The queen told me that if I served obediently, she’d keep Rodrigo on a leash. But if I tried to end my life, disobey or escape her, she’d let him roam free until the gods stopped him. That could equate to a very long time—they seem to have a very different sense of urgency.”