Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

Like through a fog, she stared back at Lorenzo, his words still echoing in her ears. He’d take care of her financially. Nothing had changed. She was still a concubine. The only difference was that now she was back in Venice where people knew her. So much for starting a new life.

“Everything is fine. I’m sure nothing happened.” And if it had, she wouldn’t tell him. She wouldn’t be trapped. Now more than ever it was important that she found the treasure, so she could leave and deal with whatever cards she’d been dealt.

Lorenzo smiled at her. “So—” He placed a soft kiss on her lips. “—where were we?”





Chapter Twelve




Lorenzo peeled himself out of Bianca’s arms, careful not to wake her. His sensitive hearing had picked up a sound from the door downstairs. It was an hour before sunrise, but despite the fact that Bianca had only entered his life three nights earlier, Lorenzo’s sleeping pattern had been turned upside down. Over the last two days, he’d barely left his bed no matter the time. He was more than comfortable having Bianca sleep in his arms and wake her whenever the need to fuck her became too big—which was often.

Not that he would always wake her. The last time, she’d been so tired and exhausted that he’d not even woken her, but driven his aching cock into her while she was still asleep. Only when he’d started rutting on her, had she opened her eyes and moaned out her pleasure and smiled as if she always wanted to awake in the same fashion. And Lorenzo had promised her that he would oblige her only too willingly.

But right now, he needed to let her sleep and allow her tired body to rest while he investigated the sounds coming from outside his front door.

Without making a sound, Lorenzo slipped into his dressing gown and tied the belt around his waist, stepped into his slippers and left the bedchamber. He didn’t bother with finding a candle and descended the stairs in the dark. Another knock on the door indicated that his visitor was getting impatient.

Lorenzo stopped in front of the heavy door, already aware of who was on the other side of it. He turned the key and opened the door.

“About time. Are you deaf?” Nico asked and pushed inside.

Lorenzo closed the door and turned back to his friend, who looked him up and down as if he was looking at a ghost.

“Evening, Nico.”

“Were you sleeping? In the middle of the night?”

For a vampire, that was certainly unusual. It was tantamount to a healthy human male suddenly taking an afternoon nap. “Of course, not!” Lorenzo denied.

“Fucking then, I suppose.”

He ignored the comment and motioned to the parlor, not wanting to wake Bianca with their conversation. “What brings you so close to sunrise? I’m assuming it’s important.”

Nico entered the parlor, then let himself fall into the sofa. “I would have come earlier, but I had to track down Signore Mancini in one of the hells upon his return to the city. It appears he has a little weekend place on the mainland. Anyway, after my chat with him, one thing led to another, and I got distracted.” His friend paused. “If you know what I mean.”

Since Nico could never enter a hell without partaking in some of the offerings himself, Lorenzo didn’t even bother to feign surprise and ignored the comment. “You found Mancini then. What did he tell you? Is he sending the money for Bianca here?”

Nico held up both arms. “One question at a time. Sit down. This may take a while.”

Reluctantly, Lorenzo sank into his armchair. “I’m sitting.”

“Interesting man, Signore Mancini. Lucky for us that he’s just as interested in gossip as a common washerwoman.”

“My friend, I know you like drama, but would you please spare me this time. As you so rightly guessed, I have something to get back to, and if I may add, the lady is quite anxious for another helping.” The lie rolled off his lips as smoothly as the water flowed under the many bridges of Venice. It wasn’t the lady who was anxious for more, but Lorenzo himself—even if it was merely to hold her in his arms and cradle her as she slept.

Nico’s mouth twisted. “If we’re talking about the same person—and I’m assuming it is still Bianca Greco who apparently now resides in your bed—then we’re not talking about a lady.”

Lorenzo shot up from his chair and lunged toward Nico, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “I advise you to watch your words. She’s a lady despite the fact that she succumbed to my advances. It wasn’t her fault. I practically attacked her.” Why he felt the need to defend her honor, he didn’t want to examine.

“Ah, be that as it may, however, I stand by my opinion.” He paused for a second. “As does Signore Mancini.”

At the mention of the solicitor’s name, Lorenzo loosened his grip and released his friend. “Talk!”

Nico adjusted his cravat and smoothed back his waistcoat. “Are you going to sit down again?”

Lorenzo grunted and sat back in his armchair.