One evening, near the border of Scotland in the queen's castle-a recent acquisition from a mysteriously deceased lord-the axis in Niccolo's world tilted once again. Niccolo had been ordered to kill an entire village.
"My queen, surely those people do not need to be eliminated. They have done nothing wrong except refuse to bow when you rode through."
And merely called you the bride of the devil a dozen or so times and instructed the children to pelt you with rocks. No harm to foul.
She sauntered over to a plush red velvet chair by the fireplace and flopped down, throwing her legs over the armrest. "They've disrespected me, the Queen, and for this, they must die. I want them taken care of before I depart for Paris."
He felt the strength of his will snap into place for the first time in centuries. He did not stop to ask why or reflect upon the dark path he'd been treading. He simply basked in his regained freewill, straightened his back, and said, "I will not kill innocent people simply to stroke your ego."
Before he blinked, the queen was on him, gripping his throat, gleaming white fangs exposed. "Then I will go to your pretty little Italian village and kill the whole lot of DiContis. Even the children. I'll suck them dry and make you watch your great nieces and nephews wither into nothing. I seem to recall there is one young woman who is the exact likeness of your sweet, dead mother."
He growled as he saw the truth in her eyes. She would follow through.
With a grunt of frustration, Reyna released him. "Niccolo, do not force my hand. It is such a crude way to gain compliance, and think of the consequences. In the end, you will be compelled to do my bidding, and not only will your descendants die, but I will see justice served to the clan that has assaulted my honor."
Niccolo finally understood; he would do her bidding, or she would kill the people he cared for. When they were long gone and dead, she'd find some other leverage. Perhaps an orphanage. Or ten. There was no threat beneath her. Nothing she wouldn't do to prove her power.
It was astounding that the gods continued to let her live on.
"Then kill me. Though the thought of displeasing you pains me, committing such an atrocity would pain me more." He stared boldly into her eyes. He was prepared for the likely outcome of losing his head. So be it.
"Ugh!" She rolled her eyes. "You're a vampire, Niccolo! Killing is what we do."
"Vampire, yes. Ruthless, as well. Monster, I am no longer. I will not kill an entire village, children included, just to please you." His eyes did not waiver from her glare, and she seemed to understand that her power over him, her ability to glamour him, had dwindled.
She stomped her foot. "You are so stubborn, Niccolo. Fine. Be so goddamned honorable." She waived her pale hand through air and walked over to small table in the corner of her chamber to pour a glass of red wine. "Very well, you win. Be off with you and check to be sure my carriage is draped properly."
Niccolo felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He knew this wasn't over. The queen never backed down. She was merely reformulating her strategy.
A chill that would stay with him for the next millennium embedded in his very soul.
"Sì, my queen."
***
"I really hate her," Helena said. "It almost makes me want to become a vampire just so I'd be strong enough to take her down myself. What an evil, horrible woman!"
Niccolo nodded. "So you see, Helena, why I did not tell you of my history. It is full of shame and darkness."
"What? Are you joking? She used your goodness against you! End of story. You can't possibly blame yourself."
Niccolo couldn't begin to convey the depths of his guilt for the things he'd done. In fact, he never understood why the gods permitted him to live considering he'd blatantly violated the Pact dozens of times. In any case, after his moral-reawakening, he vowed to make amends for the past.
"So, what happened? What did she do when you disobeyed her?" Helena hadn't moved an inch the entire time Niccolo spoke.
"She'd anticipated my reaction. Several days earlier, she turned a man I'd left for dead. He was a self-proclaimed demon hunter who killed not only a fair amount of vampires-innocent ones who were living in accordance with the Pact-but also a large count of humans … anyone believed to be a demon or other worldly creature. His aura was one of the blackest I'd ever seen."
"Why would she do that?"
"She needed a henchmen to do her dirty work. Rodrigo executed my entire village right after he took care of the clan in Scotland. The queen told me that if I served obediently, she'd keep Rodrigo on a leash. But if I tried to end my life, disobey or escape her, she'd let him roam free until the gods stopped him. That could equate to a very long time-they seem to have a very different sense of urgency."
"Oh," was all Helena could manage to say for several moments. "I guess I never thanked you, did I?"
"For what, my love?" Niccolo scooped Helena's hand into his.
"For saving my life in the jungle that night. Rodrigo would have killed me."
Niccolo pulled Helena close. "I should have killed him a long time ago. And it is I who should thank you."
"For what?"
Niccolo held her tightly. "That is the second part of my story. It was the goddess Cimil who first told me of you. I thought the idea of having a mate was a myth, certainly a joke. But the moment I saw you, I realized how wrong I was. And now, for the first time in a millennium, I have love in my heart. You are a miracle."
Niccolo bent his head and took her lips hard, the burst of emotions-his very own-griping him in a vice. He could still feel Helena, her light, trickling through him like a quiet stream. But his own light roared-a river, powerful and unstoppable. It plowed through centuries of desolate stone mountains of despair and hate, sweeping away the bleakness in its currents.
Helena tensed for a moment. Then her body melted against his. Her soft lips parted as he slid his tongue into her mouth. A tiny moan accompanied her breath, sending Niccolo over his last remaining edge of control. He wanted her. He loved her. He could not bear waiting to take her any longer. He needed to touch every inch of her. He wanted to taste her skin. He wanted to feel her writhe beneath him as he pumped his hard flesh between her thighs.
"I love you, Helena. My life means nothing if you are not happy and alive. I will tell you anything else you want to know. Today. I vow it. But I must have you," he whispered.
Helena flung her arms around his neck and pulled herself deeper into his ravenous kiss.
That must mean she agrees.
"Let me take you somewhere private," he panted.
Helena nodded. Her eyes said she was just as hungry for him as he was for her.
Niccolo's heart continued pounding, and his breathing was hard. He pulled away, breaking the kiss. "Tell me what to do, how to sift you."
Helena's eyes were wild with passion. She shook her head for a moment trying to get a hold of herself. "Oh. Sift. Right." She reached for the gold ring on her finger and slipped it off.
Niccolo quickly took her free hand and tried to sift her, but nothing happened. "It's not working."
Helena still held the ring in her hand.
"Give it to me. I will hold it." Niccolo gestured frantically.
She eagerly handed it to him. He grabbed her with his other hand, but again, nothing happened.
"We must leave the ring," he concluded.
"Wait! No. It's my grandmother's. I don't want to lose it."
Niccolo cupped her face and gazed into her eyes with affection. "Of course, I understand. I will bury it here and send someone back for it."
***
Andrus opened his eyes at sunset and immediately knew something was amiss. The door to the room was ajar and Helena was gone. How could he have slept through the woman being taken? Which, obviously, she had. Her little slipper boots were still bedside.
"This isn't over vampire," he growled under his breath as one single thought plucked like a sour cord in the back of his mind. Mine, she's mine.
But why? Because he needed her to exact revenge on the queen? Because Helena was the key to leaving him free from the vampire blood that flowed inside?
Or, was it because she brought him a sense of warmth and peace and, maybe, he wanted her for his own? No. Impossible. Yes, she was an irresistible mixture of sweet and sour, kindness and combustion. But Andrus was incapable of love. Reyna had murdered that piece of him.
He wanted to kill the queen. He had to see this through, rid himself and his brothers of this cursed vampire blood. One measly human woman, no matter how pure and kind, could not stand in the way of having justice for so many.
He would not allow himself to think of the possibility of having her as his own, no matter how sweet her kiss had been or what it made him feel. Besides, she was blood-bound to Niccolo the Executioner.