Accidentally Married to…a Vampire?(Accidentally Yours #2)(47)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

He would always be the Executioner, Queen’s General or not.

Then another horrifying notion struck him…Reyna’s dungeon. Cimil had mentioned that would be his fate if the prophecy went unfulfilled.

Cristo sacro, what a mess!

Helena could feel his emotions. She probably had all along, but just hadn’t realized exactly what it was. But now, she’d opened her mind and heart to him, she could feel him like he could feel her.

Bloody, f**king mess!

If he ended up tortured by the queen, she’d be tortured too!

And if by some odd chance he didn’t end up in the bowels of the dungeon, he still couldn’t be with her. He’d kill her. She’d driven him past the brink of madness with her satin skin infused with her sweet, feminine scent. When he’d brought her to release with his hand, it was the silver straw that broke the hungry vampire’s back. His mind became permeated with her rapture.

It took every ounce of willpower he had to deny his primeval instinct to devour her…mind, body, and soul—well, mostly body, to be honest. Then the trickle of blood from her neck pooled in his mouth, shocking him back to reality. That was odd; the taste of her blood should have sealed her fate. Perhaps his love for her was stronger than he thought. But would he be so lucky next time? Not likely. That meant he’d have to transform her. Not happening. Back to square one.

He tipped her face toward him and brushed the hair from her face. “Helena, we need to talk. I—”

The door burst open. In charged Andrus, flanked by five Demilords. Each wore black leather dusters and leather pants. Niccolo jumped from the bed, wedging himself between them and Helena.

“I’m wondering why you were foolish enough to get a room in the same hotel as us,” Andrus asked.

Helena gasped and everyone looked at her. “You were about to take my virginity in a Super 8? You and I are going to have a long talk about that!”

Niccolo shrugged. “Figured the last place he’d look for us was the room underneath his. I also thought it would be easier for me to kill him at sunset when my strength returned. My gamble might still pay off.”

Andrus crossed his arms. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not planning on staying or dying.” He tilted his head to look past Niccolo at Helena. “Get dressed.”

Helena pulled the sheet from the bed as she rose. “Andrus, thank you for coming to rescue me and for everything you’ve done, but I’ve decided to stay with Niccolo.”

His eyes narrowed. “I said…get dressed.”

She stepped beside Niccolo and looked up at him with her large doey-eyes then back at Andrus.

Niccolo fought his urge to fight the Demilords. Part of him hoped and prayed for a miracle. He didn’t want to do this to Helena. But he had to.

Helena frowned at Andrus and his men. “Andrus. I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression last night, I was drunk. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s the honest truth. I love Niccolo. I want to stay with him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you or still want to help you.” She stepped forward and placed her hand against Andrus’ chest. “What was done to you was wrong.”

He smiled wickedly. “I’m glad you feel that way because I plan on taking you whether you like it or not.”

“Andrus! What’s the matter with you?” She stepped back and turned toward Niccolo. It was clear she was expecting he’d sift her away. Instead, Niccolo stepped back.

A subtle rejection.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his thirteen hundred years. Every cell in his body screamed for her, to take her away. He forced himself to bury his true emotions so she wouldn’t catch on. He’d have to carefully choose his words now. He needed to extinguish any hope she might ever have of him changing his mind. She needed to go with Andrus. If there was any hope for breaking the bond, the Demilord’s archives were it.

He too crossed his arms. “If he wants you, then he can have you. I cannot afford a war with the Demilords right now. My men’s lives are too valuable to lose—we have important work we must carry out.” Niccolo died on the inside—again—as he spoke the lie. He dipped his head towards Andrus. “She’s all yours.”

He tried not to look at her. He knew the pain on her face would be too much to stomach—worse than the torture likely awaiting him in the dungeons, worse that the thought of eternity without her. But this was the only way to truly save her.

“You’re a bastard, Niccolo. I hope you rot in hell.” She picked up her clothes from the heap on the floor and marched towards the door, pushing the enormous heathens out of the way. They snickered.

Andrus looked angrier than he had when he’d entered. “You’re bloody fool, you know that? But I’m glad you are.”

Niccolo nodded and then sifted away, back to the darkness of his life, hoping that Helena would find a way to break the bond soon. He couldn’t bear to feel her pain in addition to his own for very long.

Chapter 16

Niccolo stared out the second story window of Reyna’s Paris townhouse at the streetlights below. Couples strolled down the cobblestone sidewalk at a leisurely pace, enjoying the unusually warm evening. After leaving Helena, he’d sifted to his queen, hoping secretly she’d simply end his suffering and kill him; Helena’s anger and despair were like sharp knives jabbing at his heavy chest.

“Niccolo!” Reyna screamed as she stormed into the house.

Niccolo rolled his eyes. What idiotic request would she have this time? Maybe he should end everyone’s suffering and kill her instead. But that would never happen. The universe’s cruel joke. Although a well-trained vampire might be strong enough to kill her, no vampire would dare because if the queen were to die, any vampire carrying her blood would perish along with her. It was plausible that this meant the entire race. And that was why he suspected the gods had ultimately spared her; they believed the Creator would punish them if they wiped out one of his creations.

According to lore, the first vampires, or the Ancient Ones, were created in approximately 2600 B.C. at the same time the Mayans began to flourish and the Egyptians built Giza. The gods, at the time, had become drunk with arrogance as humans made it their primary goal in life to worship them and pay tribute to their greatness. Humans built pyramids and made sacrifices; they would do anything for the gods. As the gods became fat with vanity and arrogance, they began to neglect their true purpose: protecting the Creator’s children and their earthly playground. Evil among humans began to flourish.