Accidentally Married to…a Vampire?(Accidentally Yours #2)(48)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

The Creator, wanting to teach the gods a lesson, plucked out a piece of light from each of the fourteen gods. He then chose three human women and three men. The six humans inherited a piece of the gods’ strength, immortality, and their gift of manipulating the physical realm—giving them the ability to sift, control minds, and see human auras. To keep the Ancient Ones from growing too arrogant and powerful, as the gods had, he bound the Ancient Ones’ strength to the night.

Finally, many believed that the Creator gave the Ancient Ones the thirst for evil humans’ blood, as they were flourishing due to the gods’ neglect of their duties.

An elegant solution for a simple problem.

Yet, somehow the vampires evolved and developed a taste for innocence. The Pact was then created, though no one knows the exact date, to remind vampires of their true calling and purpose on Earth. If they did not stray from the path of righteousness, their souls would be spared.

“Niccolo! You useless lump of medieval crap!” Reyna called out, snapping Niccolo from his thoughts. Oh, hell. Who was he kidding? If all vampires were truly related to her, they’d all be going straight to hell in a hand basket.

“I am here, my queen, and there is no need to yell. I am quite capable of hearing you.” What he wouldn’t give to become deaf.

She charged into the room wearing hot pink overalls and leopard high-tops. “I order you to do something about this atrocity immediately! Immediately!” She stomped her foot. “Do you have any idea how much I just paid to fill up my gas tank?”

Niccolo sighed. “No, my queen—”

“One hundred and six Euro! This is outrageous! Nobody—and I mean nobody—rapes the queen’s wallet. Despicable humans!”

For once, Niccolo could actually see her point. There were certain elements of the human world that where out of their control: war, inflation, American Idol…all things which could cause major irritation to a vampire’s daily life.

“What do you propose I do, Your Majesty?” And why the hell doesn’t she just save gas and sift anyway? Like me, she had the gift of being able to sift long distances.

She huffed and waved her hand through the air. “Figure. It. Out. What do I pay you for?”

Niccolo swallowed a laugh. “You do not pay me, Reyna. I am your unwilling slave, remember?”

“Well, I…” Flustered, she paused. “I pay you by allowing you to live. So don’t make me regret it. Kill whoever is running up the prices.”

Niccolo bowed his head. “Sì, Reyna. I’ll get right on that. But first, I need to notify you of a new coven of Obscuros reported near San Francisco. We’ve got a report that an unusual amount of day laborers have gone missing.”

This was always one of the metrics Niccolo and his men watched. Day laborers were easy prey because no one really tracked them. They often lived under false identities and roamed from state to state.

“I must investigate and handle the situation. Then I will…” he cleared his throat, finding it difficult to say the words, “handle the issue of high gas prices.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. But I want hourly updates. Got it?”

Niccolo had to do what he could to appease the queen and avoid the dungeons for as long as possible. He only hoped Helena found a way to break their bond quickly.

He bowed his head. “As you wish.”

He sifted to the New York penthouse to prepare his weapons. He’d promised himself he’d stay away, but he could not resist. He missed Helena so badly that he could not feed—not even a drop of flavorless bagged blood. Nor could he sleep. It had been just two days since she’d left, but it felt like an eternity. He felt her sorrow and pain twenty-four hours a day. Could it be that she wept even in her sleep? The thought drove him mad. He hoped she’d find a way to break their bond—not that it would stop him from loving her, but at least he didn’t have to feel her pain too. At least she might be free to move on and find another worthy of her.

He lay on the bed in a plain white t-shirt and worn jeans, using her favorite cream sweater as a pillow so he could wallow in her scent. He stared at the ceiling, hands folded neatly over his stomach, wondering where he’d gone wrong in life. What had he done to deserve such a miserable fate?

Sì, he had a dark past, but he learned the error of his ways and fought ruthlessly to protect the innocent. Countless lives—children, mothers, sons and daughters—surely the tens of thousands he’d saved meant something? Was it really so much to ask for a life wrapped in the loving warmth of a good woman? Helena had brought the light back into his soul. How cruel the universe was to give him something so spectacular only to make it impossible for him to keep her without destroying her.

The doorbell rang to save Niccolo from his personal pity party. He lethargically climbed out of bed and made his way to the door. Gods he was so hungry. So weak. Useless now.

Viktor would have to do the Obscuro hunting tonight.

He slowly opened the door. He peaked through the crack to see a young man standing in a windbreaker and long bicycle pants.

“Sì?”

“You Niccolo DiConti?”

Niccolo nodded.

The guy slipped an envelope through the crack. “I’ve been told I gotta wait for a reply.”

Niccolo tore open the letter. His eyes only took one second to register the words. His heart stopped beating for the length of one breath, and then his blood began to boil.

Bastard! Andrus would die after a very, very long visit to Niccolo’s secret cavern in the bowels of Barcelona. No one there would hear the screams as he took the flesh from his bones nick by nick.

“Ain’t got all day man. What’s the answer?” asked the courier.

“Tell him I will rip his balls off, stuff them in his mouth, then tear off his head while I make him masticate!”

The courier raised one brow and stepped back. “Kay. Dude. Whatever.” He pulled out a walkie-talkie from pocket. “Hey. Found Mr. DiC…” dramatic pause, “onti. Says ‘he accepts.’” He looked back up at the seething Niccolo. “Don’t worry about the tip, man. And you should try laying off the ’roids and coffee. Not a good combo for you.”

***

“You’re a total ass. You know that, don’t you?” Helena barked at Andrus from across the deep-cherry antique dining table. The room was well lit by a large, but neglected crystal chandelier. Several corners of the spacious room hosted dusty marble statues of toga-clad men cupping handfuls of grapes raised toward the sky. Post Its, displaying words such as douche bag and imbecile, adorned the statues’ surfaces. Helena surmised these must be a few of the gods. How mature.