Accidentally Married To a Vampire(29)

No. He hated that demon with every fiber of his being. He wanted to take her head and put it in his trophy case, though that wouldn't be possible-vampire bitch couldn't even do that much for him since her head would turn to ash.

"I'm half vampire; I love nothing and no one. I want her dead, so I can forget her. And what about you, Bride of the Executioner?" he asked.

Helena winced. "Oooh, God." She punched Andrus in the arm. "Don't say that! Sounds like a horror movie."

Andrus smirked.

"Why do you call him that, anyway?" she asked.

Should he tell her? It might make it easier for her to move on when Niccolo died, given every vampire with the queen's blood would perish along with her. Yes. Knowing she was bound to a killer could prove helpful.

"He's the queen's right hand, Helena, the general of her deadly, immortal army. A ruthless, bloodthirsty assassin."

Andrus watched her face fill with sorrow. His gut churned with guilt.

She gave an empty nod. "He never told me what he did all night long or where he went. I figured he had some kind of dangerous job. But her general … ? Her right hand … ? She's so evil."

"I'm sorry."

Helena raised her hand. "Fernando, can I get another?"

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Andrus objected.

"I just want to forget him, Andrus. He kept the truth from me, except when he said he could never love me." She laughed. "How ironic! I'm not even good enough for the Executioner!"

He reached out and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Helena, he can't love you because he's a vampire. You, you're perfect."

"Andrus! Are you flirting with me?" she asked, amused.

Andrus looked down at his feet, shocked to realize that, in fact, he was. He thought that Reyna had destroyed that part of him-the part that felt affection. Go figure it would be the Executioner's wife who'd bring him back. But there was no denying it. Helena had an easiness about her. Since she'd entered his life, he could breathe again-just a little.

"Yes, you are perfect. Except for your secret fetish: getting stinking drunk and trying to kiss strange men in seedy bars."

She laughed and socked Andrus in the arm. "Nuh-uh! That red haired guy bet he could teach me to kiss so well that even a gay man would pay for a lesson. I was about to make my first hundred."

What!? She was kissing men for money? He growled and then froze. Wait. They were in a gay bar? Andrus' eyes swept the room and realized the truth. Ironically, he fit right in with his leather pants. That might explain why women steered clear of him. Or perhaps, it was because he was a dark son of bitch who always had a cloud of shadows lurking near him.

In any case, he'd have to rethink his wardrobe choices. Aw, fuck it. I like my leather pants.

He looked down at Helena with amazement. How come she didn't mind his dark side? In fact, despite his snapping and barking, she still wanted to help him. She was strong, smart, and honorable in addition to being beautiful.

Lucky damned vampire. She was an extraordinary woman who could have any man she wanted. How could she, of all people, think she wasn't good enough for that lowly Executioner? He suddenly realized how badly he wanted to kiss her, for her to want him instead of that vile bloodsucker.

He looked into her eyes. He was going to tell her exactly what was on his mind, "Helena,

I-"

Helena turned and did a little jump. "Oooh. I love this song!" She looked at Andrus. "Hold that thought, Andrus baby! Helena's gotta go get her Pet Shop Boys on."

Helena scuttled across the crowded room and pushed her way into a line of fifteen men, locked arm and arm, singing at the top of their lungs and swaying in unison. "Wooo! That's right, baby!" Helena howled at the top of her lungs. The men on both sides hooted and jeered in response. "You are always on my miiind! You are always on my miiind!"

She sounds like a bloody, drowning cat. Andrus winced as her off-key voice carried through the bar. And that song. Bloody fucking awful, but dammit, she makes me laugh.

The song ended and Helena staggered over to Andrus, giggling. "No encores. Please. I know how much you want one, but the diva Helena needs more tequila."                       
       
           



       

He reached in his pocket, pulled out a silver money clip loaded with bills, and slipped out a hundred.

Helena's eyes lit up. "Ooo. You buyin' me another?"

"I think you've had quite enough, but how much did you say it was for a lesson?"

Helena's eyes went wider, but before she could say a word, his mouth was over hers.

Her lips softened immediately, and she opened her mouth to him. He instantly felt himself grow hard as her sweet tequila-tainted taste filled his mind, and her warm body leaned into him. Gods, she was irresistible.

Damn … this woman can kiss.

He felt a euphoric rush. He could feel again! He instantly knew this wouldn't be enough. He wanted her. All of her.

His passion took over. He snaked one hand behind her back, the other to cup her head. He dipped her to deepen the kiss. It was nothing like the lust he'd had for Reyna. Helena's spirit elevated him; she chased away the dark clouds and replaced them with warm, radiant light.

A tiny moan escaped her throat and reverberated in his ears. God, she was amazing. He broke the kiss for a moment. "Definitely worth a hundred."

She smiled and reached her arm around his neck, "I think you've still got a balance left on your tab."

She reached her lips to his and pulled him back into the kiss.





***





Legs dangling over the edge of the full size bed, Niccolo stretched, slowly coming out of his deep sleep as the sun set. Heaviness filled his chest.

They'd had to stop at a hotel early in the morning to rest instead of tracking Helena like he'd wanted. But he couldn't risk his men's safety since driving in daylight was too risky; anyone of them could fall asleep behind the wheel, and there were four vehicles in their caravan.

He slid the tablet from the nightstand and turned it on. He anxiously waited while the screen refreshed. He hoped Helena's signal was still there or, even better, close by. When he finally caught up to her, he'd do something he personally objected to; he would glamour her into coming with him quietly.

Glamouring a human was only considered socially acceptable under very specific circumstances-like covering up an accident or wiping the mind of a human who'd discovered their existence. But only a low class vampire, unable to depend on his or her charm or wit, stooped to glamouring a love interest. It was considered unsportsmanlike. When it came to mates, it was considered a reproachable act of deception that brought the highest dishonor to a vampire.

He'd simply have to make an exception. After all, it was not as if he could keep her glamoured forever. Eventually, he'd have to find a legitimate way to convince her to stay. He'd start by explaining why being in the company of a Demilord was dangerous even on a good day. Unlike vampires, Demilords held the reputation of having no honor. They only cared about killing whoever was on their hit list. Innocent bystanders were of no concern. Then there was the fact that every vampire on the planet hated them for being such arrogant bastards. It said a lot to be thought of as arrogant by his people-the official sponsors of arrogance.

The page loaded and the blinking dot suddenly appeared on the screen.

Thank the gods. She was only a few hours ahead. She'd stopped to rest! He drilled down on the map and a huge smile swept across his face.

"The Bar!" He'd been there before. He could sift to her!

His smile dropped off a cliff. Vergine Sacra! What the hell was Helena doing in that dive? He'd just been there last month trying to track down an exceptionally violent group of Obscuros. He'd only managed to catch and kill five of the thirteen. His cold heart turned to ice, then to fire. If that bastard Demilord had anything to do with her being there, he'd not only kill the son of a bitch, but he'd pluck out his eyes and break every bone in his body first.

Niccolo picked up his cell. "Viktor. Get up. It's time for me to kill a sacred cow."

"You want to kill a cow?" Viktor said with a groggy voice, half asleep.

Niccolo growled. "I'm going to kill Andrus tonight after I get Helena somewhere safe. I'm sifting ahead. I'll see you there."

"Yes, sir," Viktor responded. "I'll try and catch a few non-Forbiddens on the way. I have a feeling you're going to need blood by the time I get there."

Niccolo winced. He did need to feed, but bagged blood was all he could stomach-just barely. Perhaps his body would return to normal once he drank from Helena and turned her.

"No thanks. Just get there as quickly as you can; I don't know what I might find when I arrive."





***





Armed with his two favorite ancient swords crisscrossed over his back, hidden under his duster, Niccolo closed his eyes and visualized the alley behind the dive bar where he'd killed a few contemptible Obscuros the month before. As his feet materialized on the wet asphalt next to the overflowing dumpster, his senses shifted to warrior mode, ready for anything. Gratefully, the trip had not entirely purged him of his waning, precious strength.