Under a Vampire Moon (3 page)

“I’m Adam. Genie will be relieved that you are here,” the man said, flashing a wide smile at them in the rearview mirror.

“Genie’s the entertainment coordinator?” Christian asked, recalling his mother mentioning the name.

“Yes. You must be famous to be in the estate villas. Usually bands stay in lower rooms or find their own accommodations, but you are in one of the big villas.”

“One of the big villas?” Christian asked with a frown.

“Oh, yes. They are beautiful with their own pool and chef. Yours has four bedrooms.”

“All right! Our own pool,” Zanipolo said. “Midnight dips after the gig. Awesome.”

The others smiled, but Christian scowled, knowing his father had arranged it. Not that he wasn’t glad to be in a villa rather than one of the “lower rooms,” but he’d rather have arranged it himself and wasn’t pleased with his father paying his way. The man tended to forget he was grown up and his own man now.

Well, he’d just have to pay him back for it, he decided as the van crawled along the curving, narrow private road that wound its way up the side of the mountain. The lower roads held long two-story buildings with balconies running their lengths. He supposed those were the single suites or lower rooms. At the end of the first road, they turned in a small turnaround and headed back, taking the upper road to another turnaround allowing them to head up yet another road where another set of long buildings stood. Two more turnarounds brought them to a road where villas were set out side by side and clinging to the mountain like ivy. After two more turnarounds they were cruising past more villas.

There wasn’t enough room for two vehicles on the narrow lanes and Christian was just wondering what happened if a vehicle was coming down when another was going up when a vehicle appeared on the road before them. Their driver slowed, but the other driver spotted him and immediately stopped and backed up, pulling tight to the side of the road at the turnaround. He waited there until they had pulled into the turnaround and then scooted past and down the lane, waving cheerfully as he went.

“Man, I see why they don’t let just anyone drive their vehicles up here,” Zanipolo muttered as the two vans passed within a whisper of each other.

Christian grunted, but didn’t comment and they were silent as they went through two more turnarounds, all of them peering curiously at the tropical vegetation on either side. Green plants and flowering bushes spilled out between buildings and along the road. It was quite lush and beautiful and they soaked it in, knowing it would be the only time they’d see it in sunlight. None of them would waste the blood necessary to come out during the day to see it again. Instead, they would have to make do with enjoying their surroundings at night. They wouldn’t be seeing it now but it had been a scramble to get everyone together, pack, and get here. Arriving in daylight had been unavoidable.

“Here you are.”

Christian glanced toward the two-story white villa the man was stopping the van in front of. The moment he’d followed Raffaele out of the vehicle, Christian walked along the road until he was past the villa and could peer beyond it and down the mountain. It was beautiful, the green mountainside dotted with white buildings with salmon-colored roofs, running all the way down to the sea. The sun sparkled off the blue Caribbean as if it was full of diamonds. Christian simply stood there soaking it in.

“Man, daywalkers have the best of both worlds,” Giacinta said with a sigh, drawing his attention to the fact that she had followed and stood at his side.

“But only for a short time,” Santo pointed out, rubbing his bare scalp with a pained expression.

“We should go in,” Christian said reluctantly.

They all turned as one, then paused as the van went zipping past, the driver smiling and waving.

“Where’s he going?” Zanipolo asked with alarm. “What about keys? He didn’t give us keys.”

Before anyone could comment a second van rolled past and slid to a halt in front of the villa. The door immediately opened, and a smiling woman in a royal blue skirt suit leaped out.

“Christian Notte?” she asked, eyeing them questioningly.

Christian moved forward, aware that the others were following.

“I am Bellina,” she announced, beaming as she took his hand in a firm shake. “I will be your social coordinator during your stay. Here, let me show you your villa.”

Turning away she led them down the walk to the front door, unlocked it, and quickly led them inside.

Christian followed and felt a tension he hadn’t realized had been there slipping from his shoulders as they stepped into a cool, shady entry. The mortal woman Bellina was chattering away as she led them through the building, taking them through a large open living room, a big beautiful kitchen/dining room with a waiting fruit tray and bottle of wine, and then on to show them the terrace and pool. But he wasn’t paying much attention. Christian was following silently, his tension returning as his gaze slid over the white walls, the generous windows, and the multitudinous skylights. His mind was screaming that this definitely wasn’t a place made for immortals.

It wasn’t until they reached the upper floor and the bedrooms that he began to relax again.

“Mr. Notte said you find it difficult to sleep after ending a set and wanted to be sure we had blackout curtains while you slept, and we do,” Bellina said chirpily, crossing the darkened master bedroom to reach the drapes. “We left them closed so you could see how well they work, but once you wake up—” She yanked the curtains open and turned to beam at them.

Christian instinctively flinched, one hand rising to protect his face as he turned his head away from the bright sunlight that immediately poured in. He nearly laughed when he saw that his cousins were all reacting in much the same way. You’d think it actually burned them or something from the way they were responding, he thought with wry amusement. Shaking his head at their instinctual reaction, he lowered his hand and forced himself to turn back. Spotting the startled expression on Bellina’s face, he smiled and strode forward.

“Sorry, it’s been a long day for us what with the scramble to arrange everything and then the flight here,” he said, excusing their behavior as he took her arm to urge her from the room.

“Oh, yes, of course. You must be exhausted,” she said, smiling sympathetically.

“Yes. And we have to play tonight so a nap would probably be in order.”

“Of course. We do not want you falling asleep onstage.”

“No,” he agreed wryly as they started downstairs to the main floor again.

She nodded. “There is still much to explain about your personal chef and so on, but I can do that later. Perhaps if you call me when you wake up, I could come back,” she suggested.

“Thank you,” Christian said. They were halfway down the stairs when he noted two men waiting patiently next to their neatly stacked luggage in the entry.

“If you tell them where to put the luggage, they will distribute it for you,” Bellina said.

“That isn’t necessary,” he assured her as they stepped off the stairs. “We’ll get our own luggage.”

“Very well.” She gestured to the men, who immediately opened the door and filed out. “Call the main building when you wish to come down and a van will be sent for you. And call me if you have any questions at all. There is much to do while you are here, and you’ll only be playing three hours a night so will have time to enjoy the activities.”

“Yes, thank you,” Christian said, ushering her out the door, but she stopped on the front step and turned back.

“I almost forgot your keys,” she said with a laugh, pulling five envelopes from her pocket and holding them out.

Christian accepted the envelopes, nodded, smiled one last time and then closed the door with relief as she hurried away toward the waiting van.

“Blood,” Santo grunted.

Christian turned from the door to see that the others had followed and were now pulling the coolers away from the luggage.

“We should stack it in the fridge now,” Christian said. “It’s hot enough here the blood will go bad in no time if we leave it out too long.”

The coolers were immediately carried to the kitchen, and all but one emptied. They left several bags in the last one and took it with them as they headed back to the master bedroom.

At the front of the group, Giacinta rushed to close the curtains Bellina had opened. Santo carried the cooler to the dresser and set it down. As he opened it, Christian glanced around the room, his gaze sliding over the tasteful furniture, and pausing on the king-sized bed as he took note of the flowers and robes arranged on the comforter. The robes had been tied at the waists and spread out to look something like snow angels, while flowers and leaves had been arranged to spell
WELCOME
on the comforter.

“Fancy,” Raffaele commented, appearing at his side to hand him a bag of blood.

“Hmm.” Christian popped the bag to his already descending fangs, only to frown as a ringing sounded from his pocket.

“Phone,” Raffaele pointed out with amusement. He’d just been about to pop his own bag to his teeth, but arched an eyebrow and asked, “Want me to answer it?”

Christian pulled the phone from his pocket, read the caller ID, and shook his head. He then hit the button and raised it to his ear, grunting a version of hello.

“Christian Notte, are you talking with your mouth full?” Marguerite’s voice admonished gently.

Christian found his lips curving in a smile around the bag in his mouth as he mumbled yes around the obstruction, the word coming out “es.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt your feeding, then, dear. I just wanted to be sure you and your cousins got in. Is everything all right there?”

Christian said “es” again and then tore the bag away with relief when he realized it was empty. “It’s beautiful. A bit sunny though, don’t you think?”

“Well, this is the Caribbean, darling,” she pointed out with a laugh. “It’s all right though. The curtains do a good job of keeping the sun out while you’re sleeping and it’s lovely at night.”

“Hmm.” Christian glanced around when Santo whistled. When his cousin immediately tossed him a second bag, Christian caught it, but merely held the bag as he spoke. “Did Father arrange for the villa?”

“Yes, dear. He felt that since you’re doing us a favor by coming here, you should all be comfortable. Besides, if he hadn’t, Gia would have been the only one with her own room and you boys would have had to share and that’s no good.”

“And why, pray tell, would that be no good?” Christian asked with interest.

“Oh, well, I remember how much you disliked it when we were in England and you and the boys were sharing there,” she said lightly.

“Uh-huh,” he said with disbelief.

“Anyway, I should let you go. You’re probably exhausted after your flight and would like to sleep, and we want you well rested and perky for tonight.”

“Why? What’s happening tonight?” he asked at once.

“Well, you’ll be performing, of course,” she said on a laugh. “Genie is so grateful you were willing to fill in for the band that canceled, she’s coming to the show tonight and offered to buy us all drinks during your break. So make sure you join us then.”

“Right,” Christian said. “Tell Father I’m paying for the villa.”

“Now, Christian—,” Marguerite began.

“I’m hanging up, Mom. Good sleep,” Christian interrupted and started to hang up, but paused when he heard his father say, “Marguerite? What’s wrong,
cara
?”

“He called me Mom,” Christian heard her say in a sniffly voice.

“Ah,
bella
,” Julius Notte crooned. There was a rustling and the line died.

Christian smiled faintly and pressed the button to end the call, then set his phone on the bedside table and glanced around.

“I’m guessing you’re taking this room?” Zanipolo asked, pulling a bag of blood from his fangs.

“You guessed right,” Christian said dryly.

The other man nodded and glanced around at the others. “That leaves three rooms and four of us.”

Gia chuckled at their expressions and headed for the door. “Well, there’s one other room with a double bed. The other two have twins, so I’ll take the double bed and leave the other two to you guys to fight over.”

“I’ll share with someone,” Santo offered.

Zanipolo grimaced. “No offense, cousin, but you snore like a foghorn. There’s no way I’m sharing with you.”

“I guess that means Zani and I are sharing and you get your own room, Santo,” Raffaele announced, heading out with Zanipolo on his heels.

Santo stared after them with surprise. “I don’t snore, do I?” He frowned. “Can immortals snore?”

“You don’t snore,” Christian assured him.

“Right.” Santo frowned. “So why—”

“You shout and thrash and scream,” he said quietly.

Santo stiffened, his expression freezing. Then he nodded, ran one hand across his bald head and left the room.

Christian watched Santo leave, then slapped the bag of blood to his teeth and pushed his door closed. He was exhausted and couldn’t even be bothered to go get his suitcase.