Forbidden Blood: A House of Comarre Novella by Kristen Painter (the unexpected everything TXT) 📗

drops of red into his glass and discarded theempty bottle. “I have evidence of only three, but the precisionwith which you work, the confidence with which you enable yourclients to move so gracefully into their end, well, that speaks ofpractice, doesn’t it? And you did say that’s how you’vebecome so good at your trade.”

Dumbstruck,Dominic stared at him.

“Youshould not trust the kine to keep the secrets of their masters.”Arnaud tapped the side of his temple. “So easy to persuade.”

“Ihelped them.” It was the best he could come up with in themoment.

“Ihave no doubt of that. But you know as well as I that killing anothervampire is the one unbreakable rule among our kind.

Doesn’tmatter if they ask you to kill them. Or even if they pay you. It isstill a crime punishable by death.”

Dominicstood very still His “special services,” as Arnaudreferred to them, had paved the way to his fortune. So many referredto them, had paved the way to his fortune. So many vampires grewtired of eternity, tired of the endless nights, the repetition ofhours with little more to do than struggle for something to occupytheir time. He provided them a painless way out of the life they nolonger desired.

Hestraightened, smoothed his jacket, and lifted his chin slightly. Hehad no wish to follow after the clients he’d helped.

“Sothe comarré has agreed to this?”

Arnaudshrugged. “She will do as she’s told.”

“Andif something goes wrong? What then?”

Arnaudpursed his mouth. “Do you expect something to go wrong?”

“No.But it is a possibility.” Dominic tried to appeal to the man’spocketbook. “Surely you won’t expect me to reimburse youfor her blood rights?”

Arnaudsnorted. “No. She’s a good comarré—from theCorvinestri Primoris Domus—but her blood rights cost half whatthey should. Seems she’d caused some trouble for theheadmistress and the woman was willing to let her go cheaply underthe condition I would not return her.”

Dominic’scuriosity rose. What kind of trouble could a comarré cause?His had some attitude problems, but nothing he’d really calltrouble. “You expect me to explain things to her?”

Arnaudyanked a belpul near the door. “Do what you need to. You’lltake her home with you for two weeks. After that time, you’llboth return here and I’ll expect her transformed.”

“Twoweeks? That’s hardly enough time to—”

Aservant entered. “You rang, my lord?”

Arnaudnodded. “Send her in.”

“Verygood, my lord.” The servant disappeared.

Dominictried again. “Two weeks is insufficient for what you ask. Ineed two months at minimum.”

“Amonth. Not a day longer.”

Aknock this time.

“Comein,” Arnaud called.

Thedoor opened and his comarré entered, head down, her goldenglow suffusing the room with the warmth it had been lacking. Thesweet aroma of burnt sugar followed closely behind.

Dominic’sgums ached as the perfume invaded his senses.

Shenodded at Arnaud. “Master.”

Arnaudignored her to speak to Dominic. “Is there anything you need ofher before you leave?”

Dominicbegan to shake his head, his gaze still lingering on the blondcreature before him. She was no different in coloring than his owncomarré, Catarina, but he spent little time with her due tohis work and her increasingly poor attitude. She usually sent himblood so that he never had to leave his laboratory, an arrangementthat worked well for both of them. Seeing this one up close remindedhim what extraordinarily beautiful beings they were, and the part ofhim that still clutched the last shreds of his humanity stirred withlonging. “No, I can’t think of anything— humanitystirred with longing. “No, I can’t think of anything—Wait, yes. I need to know her name.”

Shelifted her head and her crystal-blue eyes pierced him to the bone. “Iam Marissa.”

Chapter Two

Marissaknew whatever lay ahead of her would not be pleasant, but the thoughtof escaping Arnaud’s estate for a month filed her with such joyshe didn’t care. She glanced across the aisle of the plane towhere her new temporary patron sat.

DominicFalconetti. He was rumored to be one of the most skilled alchemiststhe House of St. Germain had ever produced.

Whatthat meant for her she couldn’t imagine. She worried the ringon her finger, flicking the tiny, hidden blade in and out. How wasthis was all going to go? She prayed to the holy mother he was not asdifficult as Arnaud. He was certainly easier to look at than Arnaud.

Dominicglanced up, his mossy green eyes flickering briefly with silver thatdid nothing to diminish the kindness they held.

Kindnessshe could not comprehend. “Si, bella, what can I do for you?”

Hecould start by not calling her beautiful or treating her like shemattered. It wasn’t the way Arnaud acted and it unsettled her.She turned her gaze back to her ring. Too bad the little curved bladewasn’t large enough to do more than pierce a vein.

“Nothing,thank you, my lord.”

Outof her peripheral vision, she saw his eyes stayed on her.

“Iam not your lord, nor am I your patron. No, you must treat me morelike…your equal, capsice?”

Herhead jerked up. “Your equal? My lord, I cannot do that.

Youshouldn’t even speak it.”

Helaughed. “Perchè? Who is going to hear me? The pilot?

Heworks for me and he is tucked away in the cockpit.”

Sherelaxed, knowing he was right but shaking her head nonetheless. “Yes,but we are not equals.” No matter what she felt deep in herheart. “Why would you say such a thing?” The question wasbold, but he didn’t seem the type to care.

Hesighed. “I am as much in the service of Arnaud as you are.”He rolled his eyes and muttered something derogatory in Italian thatsounded like a comparison between Arnaud’s private parts and afestering corpse.

Shelaughed, stopping abruptly when she realized the sound came out ofher. “Forgive me.”

“Forwhat, cara mia?” He slipped across the aisle to sit in the seatopposite her.

Shescooted back to keep their knees from touching. “For laughingat my patron. It was improper.”

“Ilike the sound of your laugh. I shall endeavor to bring it out of youagain.”

Shestudied him for a long moment, suddenly very aware that herpreconceived notions about this vampire, this man, were wrong. Justhow wrong, she wasn’t sure. “You don’t care muchfor…propriety, do you?”

“Rulesand respect have their place.” He loosened his tie andunbuttoned the top button on his crisp white shirt, revealing atriangle of olive skin. “But some rules are foolish and somepeople