Sensual Danger (Venice Vampyr #4)

Silvano tossed him a concerned look. “What if it does?”


Marcello lifted his hand. “No matter whether the answer is yes or no, we have to find the machine first. If it falls into the Guardians’ hands and it does indeed work, then we’ll have a very hard time remaining in hiding. None of us will be safe. Once they have one device, they can duplicate it. Soon, all Guardians will have one and hunt us down.”

His friend had a point. Every time one of them ventured out of their houses, the risk of detection would be multiplied. So far, vampires only had to be careful when out hunting for blood, so they wouldn’t be detected when they drank from a human. But if the Guardians had another method of recognizing them even though their vampire side was hidden, then a simple walk in the evening would become hazardous.

“What are we going to do about it?” Nico asked, looking at his host. “Do your spies have any information as to the whereabouts of this detection device?”

“Nothing concrete so far. As we speak, they’re using their contacts to find out more. But they’re being careful, because we can’t risk their questions being traced back to us.”

“Marcello,” Dante suddenly threw in. “Tell them what you told me about the list of names earlier.”

Marcello cleared his throat. “As most of you know, the list is a parchment with the presumed names of the Guardians of the Holy Waters that Bianca found hidden in her late father’s house. Only, the names don’t exist: they’re made up. Code names. We know this because we know three dead members from this list: Giovanni, the first husband of Raphael’s wife, Massimo, her cousin, as well as a known rake, Salvatore. They aren’t on the list, even though they were members of the Guardians.”

Marcello looked dejected. “Unfortunately there’s no logic behind the way they chose their names. Even with using common ciphers and searching for the most common letters appearing in the list, I wasn’t able to figure out what names those three known Guardians chose. I’m not sure what else to try.”

Lorenzo nodded. “I worked on a copy of the list, but haven’t come up with anything either. There might not be any code hidden in the list. It could be a hoax.”

Nico balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against the door. “Damn!”

“Never mind that now!” Raphael cut in. “Let’s deal with the problem at hand. I suggest that at nightfall each and every one of us search out his trusted contacts in the city and see what else he can find out. Somebody must know something else. Nothing remains a secret forever in this city. Servants talk. Let’s use that to our advantage. Let’s find the ones who’ll tell us what we want to know.”

The others nodded, mumbling their agreement to Raphael’s plan. Nico did likewise. At least it gave him something to do rather than go home.

He wasn’t ready to face his wife and find out the reason for her tears, for he guessed it: he disgusted her, and she hated his touch. Having his suspicion confirmed would only force him to act upon it: he would have to do what he had planned all along. Send her to the mainland. Why this revelation didn’t make him feel relieved, he didn’t know.

After all, sending her away would mean he could resume his old life: fuck a different whore every night. However, that prospect made him recoil. He didn’t want to fuck a whore, he wanted to bed his wife. On clean sheets. In their marriage bed. Every night. And every day.

Something was seriously wrong with this picture. Because Nico liked variety, he liked the conquest, and he liked his women experienced and adventurous.

Not virginal. Not shy in bed. Not disgusted with him.

So why did his cock rise every time he thought of Oriana? Why did his heart beat faster when he caught a whiff of her scent?

“Nico!”

Dante’s voice pulled him out of his daydreams. Nico rolled his shoulders. “Yes?”

“I said, if you want to spend the evening at your home—I mean considering you’re practically on your honeymoon—nobody is going to fault you for it.”

Nico shook his head. “There’s no need. I’ll do my part.”

At the very least, it would distract him, though roaming the city at night wouldn’t dull the hunger he felt for his wife. The hunger for her luscious body and her rich blood. A hunger she would never allow him to still. He had to end this charade now: he would send her to the mainland as planned. At least that way, he wouldn’t make her cry again. She would get what she wanted, and he would simply return to his bachelor life. If he could get Oriana out of his mind.





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