Page 10 of Victory for Vampires

I pick from Annabelle’s choices, dressing in a flowy top that cuts to my navel, cleavage teasing from beneath the fabric. A translucent sweater goes over top of that, and then a knee-length fitted skirt and heels to top it off. Glancing in the mirror, I pile my hair into a messy bun on top of my head. When that’s done, I pat the wall.

“Thank you, darling Annabelle. Your taste in date night attire is most excellent.”

The wallpaper ripples happily, forcing my smile wider. The Annabelle Inn is system-renowned for her beauty and personality. I haven’t had a chance to see it up close, but it’s clear there isso much lovein this building.

Hearth HQ isn’t like that. A few of the buildings have personality, but the headquarters building itself is stark and reserved, almost grumpy. It’s true that every building is different, but to me, headquarters feels like its mistress—cold, unwelcoming and unfriendly.

Once I’m ready, I depart the Annabelle, who waves her white shutters in goodbye. The Community Garden is located across the street, and I consider going there to take a peek. The pixies’ A-frame neighborhood is built there, a unique design that, as far as I know, is only done in this particular haven. Plus, the pixie dust factory is located in the garden’s only tree. I’d like to know more about that.

But then Pietro tugs sensually at our bond, and I decide I’ll tackle the garden tomorrow. I need my males right now.

Humming happily, I walk the few blocks up Sycamore, cross Main and enter Higher Grounds. Even at dinner time, the shop is full of patrons.

Pride fills me—Alé and Pietro have done so well. This is what they always wanted, to bring coffee to the world. To have a gathering place for the monster community. I can almost imagine them working the shop together. Alé would be all charming smiles and flirtations. Pietro would be the quiet, intense presence by his side.

With a smile, I head for the stairs, jogging upward until I reach the third floor. A single arched wooden door reminds me of home—whitewashed wood is cracked and faded around the edges. The hallway is painted a terra cotta shade, much like the roof tiles from the villa I grew up in. Even up here, everything smells of Azuro coffee beans.

It feels like home.

The door swings open, revealing Alé wearing a happy smile. He pats the door. “Imported from the family villa. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I stroke the door, admiring the ancient-looking wood. The building creaks and groans, the surface vibrating under my touch.

“She’s ticklish,” he jokes, grabbing my hand. “Come in, amore.”

Amore.

Such an innocuous word used between mothers and sons, fathers and daughters, friends, lovers. It can be used in nearly any context.

But we were neverjustfriends. When he says that word to me, I feel it in every corner of my being. I tamp down the urge to tackle him and bite over his heart, infusing my venom into the organ that pumps blood throughout his body. I want it to be full of me, threaded so deeply, we can never be parted.

My bond with Pietro tenses and tightens as he registers my emotion and intention. It’s what he wants most…for us to be together all the time.

I want that too, but I don’t see a way to have it unless someone gives up their dreams. That’s been a hard series of acts to juggle over the centuries. But I can’t think about that tonight. Tonight is about reconnection.

Varied scents fill the air just inside the door—salt, basil, a few others that remind me of home. I spin in place, admiring the huge open living area. The back and right-hand walls are full of windows, letting in beautiful fading sunlight. Couches and rugs in a mishmash of colors litter the space, giving it a homey feel. The back wall features a kitchen with a large whitewashed island.

Pietro stands there, both hands on the countertop, chest heaving slightly as he stares at me. A pot bubbles behind him. Gods, he’s stunning. His desire to command me slaps our bond as he yanks on it, pulling me across the room with near physical touch.

I grab Alé’s hand, cross the space, and round the island, halting in front of Pietro. He turns slowly, dark eyes dropping appreciatively down my body. Alessandro presses his chest to my back, shoving me closer to our mate. Warm lips come to my ear. “It’s been a long time, Valentina. We have missed you terribly.”

That thing in my chest connecting me to Pietro sparks and sputters, demanding to be filled, touched, used, claimed.

He grits his jaw tightly but reaches up and strokes my hair away from my forehead. What I can’t read in his expression, I feel in the bond we share.

Adoration. Desire. Pride.

Desperate, unrelenting need.

7

ALESSANDRO

Watching my two favorite people together brings me peace. I love the life Pietro and I have built, but it’s incomplete without her between us. That’s never been clearer than right now with Pietro in front of her, stroking her hair as he eats her alive with his gaze.

“I want to kiss you,” he growls, “but if I start now, I don’t think I’ll make it through dinner.” He steps closer, bringing his mouth just over hers, which forces her head back against my shoulder. “I need to watch you fuck him, bite him, toy with him. And then I want you on your knees before me, worshipping.”

Her chest heaves as I slip transparent fabric off her delicate shoulder. When I reach down and place a tender trail of kisses on her soft, warm skin, she shudders between us.

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