Forbidden Blood: A House of Comarré Novella (2 page)

Chapter Two

M
arissa knew whatever lay ahead of her would not be pleasant, but the thought of escaping Arnaud’s estate for a month filled her with such joy she didn’t care. She glanced across the aisle of the plane to where her new temporary patron sat. Dominic Falconetti. He was rumored to be one of the most skilled alchemists the House of St. Germain had ever produced. What that meant for her she couldn’t imagine. She worried the ring on her finger, flicking the tiny, hidden blade in and out. How was this was all going to go? She prayed to the holy mother he was not as difficult as Arnaud. He was certainly easier to look at than Arnaud.

Dominic glanced up, his mossy green eyes flickering briefly with silver that did nothing to diminish the kindness they held. Kindness she could not comprehend. “
Si, bella
, what can I do for you?”

He could start by not calling her
beautiful
or treating her like she mattered. It wasn’t the way Arnaud acted and it unsettled her. She turned her gaze back to her ring. Too bad the little curved blade wasn’t large enough to do more than pierce a vein. “Nothing, thank you, my lord.”

Out of her peripheral vision, she saw his eyes stayed on her. “I am not your lord, nor am I your patron. No, you must treat me more like…your equal,
capsice
?”

Her head jerked up. “Your equal? My lord, I cannot do that. You shouldn’t even speak it.”

He laughed. “
Perchè
? Who is going to hear me? The pilot? He works for me and he is tucked away in the cockpit.”

She relaxed, knowing he was right but shaking her head nonetheless. “Yes, but we are
not
equals.” No matter what she felt deep in her heart. “Why would you say such a thing?” The question was bold, but he didn’t seem the type to care.

He sighed. “I am as much in the service of Arnaud as you are.” He rolled his eyes and muttered something derogatory in Italian that sounded like a comparison between Arnaud’s private parts and a festering corpse.

She laughed, stopping abruptly when she realized the sound came out of her. “Forgive me.”

“For what,
cara mia
?” He slipped across the aisle to sit in the seat opposite her.

She scooted back to keep their knees from touching. “For laughing at my patron. It was improper.”

“I like the sound of your laugh. I shall endeavor to bring it out of you again.”

She studied him for a long moment, suddenly very aware that her preconceived notions about this vampire, this
man
, were wrong. Just how wrong, she wasn’t sure. “You don’t care much for…propriety, do you?”

“Rules and respect have their place.” He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his crisp white shirt, revealing a triangle of olive skin. “But some rules are foolish and some people do not deserve respect.”

“Like Lord Arnaud.” She clapped her hand over her mouth, but the words had already slipped out.

He reached over, his cool fingers pulling her hand down. “Exactly like Arnaud. He is a bully. You know this to be true.”

She tried not to react to his touch, but her pulse betrayed her. Contact outside of feeding was such a rare thing. Beneath her clothing, her skin pebbled with the sensation. She crooked her head toward the window and stared into the blackness beyond. Answering him would mean exposing herself more than she already had. What if this was a test? What if Dominic and Arnaud were good friends? Her belly coiled at the thought that her every move might be reported upon.

Dominic’s thumb brushed her ring. “Pretty.”

She turned but didn’t make eye contact. “Thank you. It was a gift from Lord Arnaud.” The only thing he’d ever given her.

“You were playing with it. I heard it clicking. What does it do?” He lifted her hand, studying the ring.

“This.” She caught the tiny indentation disguised in the ring’s filigree and notched the hidden blade out. “All comarré wear one so we may drain excess blood in an emergency. Too much in our systems makes us sick.”

His forehead crinkled. “Arnaud gave this to you? How do all comarré wear one, then?”

“We are all issued one, but the one I had previously wasn’t as nice as this one, although this one is a bit larger.” She’d initially worn Arnaud’s gift because not wearing it would have created more trouble than it was worth. Now she’d grown used to it.

He let go of her hand, leaving her oddly bereft at the loss of his touch, and sat back. His appraising gaze seemed to peer into her soul. “I did not mean to upset you,
bella
. I just want you to know that while you are with me, you needn’t be afraid or walk on eggshells. I am not Arnaud. You are human, as I once was. Given different circumstances, our positions could be reversed, could they not?”

They could, but for him to acknowledge that? It scared her that he could be so aware. She turned back to the window and tried to ignore the scared woman staring back at her. “I would like to sleep a little.”

“Rest, Marissa. I will bother you no more this trip.” He went back across the aisle.

What had she gotten herself into? Already she felt his words sinking into her like a balm of hope. If he really meant what he said… She squeezed her hands into fists. She always wanted too much. Rennata had told her so and she knew it to be true, but she couldn’t stop the desire for something more than this life. To give up that hope would be to die.

She closed her eyes, the reckless thoughts of the last few days heavy on her mind.
Holy mother, if you want me to pursue this, give me a sign. Show me a path. Show me a way out.

Chapter Three

D
ominic called out directives for his staff as soon as he and Marissa entered his palazzo. The trip had tired him only slightly, so no doubt she would be feeling it more. What he was feeling was sunrise, only minutes away now. If not for the potion he’d taken, the pull of daysleep would have been impossible to overcome. “Prepare the guest bedroom near the laboratory, and get some food together. Whatever you make for Catarina.” He turned to Marissa. “You must be hungry,
si
?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you. Catarina is…”

“My comarré. You’ll meet her soon. I’m sure she’s asleep—”

“No, I’m not.” Catarina walked into the foyer, her slippers almost soundless on the intricate mosaic floor.

With a few nods, the staff dispersed to do as he’d asked. “Catarina, this is Marissa. She’s going to be staying here for a few weeks.”

Catarina’s brows arched in judgment. “If you think you’re replacing me—”

“I’m not. Marissa belongs to another. She is here on her patron’s bequest. And you
will
make her welcome.”

Beside him, Marissa stepped forward, the sternness of her expression something new. “What house are you from? I’m curious, as speaking to one’s patron so boldly was considered a punishable behavior at the Primoris Domus in Corvinestri.”

Catarina faltered, her cheeks coloring. She dipped her head so that her long blond hair swung down to hide her face. “I am from the Secundis Domus outside of Tesoro.” She looked up and made brief eye contact with Dominic. “My apologies, my lord. If I may be excused?”

“
Si
.” When Catarina’s footsteps faded, he turned to Marissa. “Masterfully done. In one small moment, you let her know who you are
and
you put her in her place.” She’d also defended him, but he didn’t dwell on an aspect he might have only imagined.

Marissa lowered her head slightly. “I apologize. I overstepped my bounds. I am a guest, after all. I spoke without thinking.”

He laughed softly. “You spoke with your heart.” He came a few steps closer and slipped his knuckles beneath her chin to raise her eyes. She was only a few inches shorter than he. “Although I don’t believe you do much without thinking.” He dropped his hand. “There is a time and place for both. Too many let their emotions rule them and end up paying the price, but without emotion, life is a tame existence best left for the weak and infirm.”

“She is young.”

“And you are not?”

“Not…as young as Catarina, no.” She turned away but not before the shadow of some greater emotion crossed her face. When she looked at him again, her smile was slightly disconnected. “I do not mean to keep you from daysleep. I’m sure your staff can direct me to the kitchen and my room.”

What had upset her? He raised a brow. “Are you dismissing me?”

Horror broke the smile. “No. Never. I would never—”

He laughed. “It’s all right, Marissa. I know how Arnaud runs his house, but I don’t stand so much on formality. The only thing I never joke about is my work.” He held his hand out, knowing he’d already touched her more than was proper but not caring. Contact was sorely missing in his life. “Let me show you to the dining room.”

She hesitated, staring at his outstretched hand. “Arnaud runs his house very strictly.” Slowly, she lifted her hand and her fingers coasted over his, teasingly warm but with a delicate friction that spoke to places deep inside him. She raised her gaze to meet his eyes. “This will be something of a holiday, then.”

“Perhaps.” He gathered her hand into his completely and led her down the hall. The heat of her skin recalled summers on the Amalfi coast, but those were memories from another life. He glanced at her. How innocent she was. No more than a possession to Arnaud. And now Dominic must tell her of Arnaud’s plans. He must explain how he’d been commissioned to experiment on her these next few weeks, to gently make clear the dangers of his work, but not now. There would be time enough for that in the evening. Now, as he felt the sun break the horizon, he wanted nothing to do with any of that. He would not give her a reason to fear him, not in this moment.

As they approached the dining room, a servant opened the door. Dominic dropped her hand to let her go ahead of him. “Serve Lady Marissa here.”

“Yes, your lordship.” The servant nodded and left.

In the quiet of the room, she shook her head. “It is wrong to call me Lady Marissa.”

“In my house, I do as I please.” And right now, what he wanted to do was something he knew she would not abide, but lack of sleep made him reckless. He picked up her hand and pressed it to his mouth, inhaling her scent as he kissed her smooth, gilded skin.

She jumped, but not enough to wrench her hand from his grasp. “My lord,” she whispered.

“Do I frighten you?” Her heartbeat had increased the moment he’d touched her. If he had a pulse, it would have done the same. “That is not my desire.”

“Then what”—she swallowed, the delicate lines of her neck flexing—“what is your desire, my lord?”

Not what, but who.
But wanting her was dangerous at best. He released her hand and took a step back, his control teetering. “Only company.” He pulled a chair out for her, then sat on the other side of the table. That would give her room to breathe.

She sat very straight. “Catarina does not provide that for you?”

“Catarina is first and foremost a comarré.”

“As am I.”

He shook his head. “You are a comarré second.”

She tensed. “Why would you say—”

“You are a woman first,
cara mia
.”

Unbelievably, she blushed. The signum on her cheeks blazed against the rising color. “You are a most unusual man.”

He nodded. “You are getting to know me very quickly.”

Servants entered with her dinner and a goblet of blood for him. He took it from the extended tray. It was warm. “This isn’t from the reserves?”

The servant tucked the tray under his arm. “Catarina thought you might want something fresher, my lord.”

With a nod, Dominic dismissed his staff with a wave.

Marissa spoke when they’d left. “She wishes to make amends.”

He lifted the glass. “Perhaps, but I rarely drink from her vein. She is only doing what is required of her.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it abruptly, only to take a bite of the meal before her instead.

“You want to know why that is?” He shrugged. “I am often busy and do not wish to be disturbed or pulled from my work, and she…does not complain that we have so little interaction. It is odd, perhaps, but it suits.”

She nodded and set her fork down. “It suits you not to have as much power as you could?” She lifted her hands and stroked the inside of one wrist. “I’ve never known a vampire who didn’t care whether or not he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of the comarré he owned. You are a rare creature, Lord Falconetti, to give up both power and pleasure.”

He stared at her, the embers of his desire rekindled by her words and fanned by what was clearly a challenge. She was not the innocent he’d thought. No, indeed. She must know what her words were doing to him. But for what purpose? Did she think she could take Catarina’s place? That Arnaud would give her up? Was this the kind of trouble she’d caused to make her house declare her unreturnable? If so, he was not opposed to it. He smiled, lids lowered, while a thousand questions filled his head. “Are you playing a game with me, Marissa?”

She looked genuinely shocked. “Game? No, I swear I am not.” She pushed her chair back and dropped her napkin beside her plate. “I am tired and I have once again let my mouth get the best of me. If you’ll excuse me, I should retire.”

A small burst of speed and he was at her side, blocking her way. “You’re right. There is little to be gained from giving up power and pleasure, as you so eloquently put it. I shall turn over a new leaf this very moment.”

She held very still. “I should leave you to it, then.” She pointed lamely past him. “If you would be so kind as to let me by.”

Now it was his turn to see what she was made of. To call her bluff in this delicate, delicious dance they engaged in. “Your freedom for a kiss.”

“Freedom? For a…a kiss?” For a brief moment, she looked shaken. Then, with the lift of her chin, her confidence returned and she laughed. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?” She lifted her hand toward his shoulder as if to push him aside but stopped before touching him.

He moved forward, forcing the contact. “No,
cara mia
, I do not tease.” When she didn’t take her hand away, he leaned in, lowered his voice, and repeated his words. “Your freedom for a kiss.”