Tribes Of The Vampire - Eternally Bound Part 42

Feeling his cheek, she pushed the long brown hair from his face. He was turned toward her. His hand was on her hip, ma.s.saging her gently.

"S, bella mia."

Tatiana fell forward, pressing her body along him, gripping him to her. His body was as she remembered it, so strong. Her skin tingled with nerves and she could feel him like never before. She was too weak to act on her impulses. "You came. Leandro said you wouldn't come for me--that you would never come to Italy. I'm sorry I ran away from you. There was a lycan, Broderick, and he had some powder that ... anyway, it smelled like flowers and I couldn't resist it. But, we spoke of Broderick last night, or was it a dream? It's so fuzzy, I can't remember it all. But, you came, you came. I hoped that you would."

"How could I not come?" he whispered into her hair, breathing in her scent. He could smell the dried blood on her, the musk of the grave so new to her flesh. The knowledge that he'd not been there in time to save her from her fate ate at him.

Tatiana misunderstood his cold tone. She pulled back, hurt. "Yes, my lord, of course. You had to come and retrieve your slave, didn't you now? It was a matter of honor. Leandro--"

"Don't say his name to me," Marcello growled. "I don't wish to hear what it is you have don--"

His words were stopped by the coffin lid being lifted. Leandro stood over them, grinning devilishly. "Ah, brother, thank you for looking after my woman for me. I do so hate the first night of changing. It is so ... unbearably dramatic."

"I am not your woman," Tatiana spat, pus.h.i.+ng up from the coffin's depths. Her head felt as if it spun about on her shoulders and she held completely still until the queasiness pa.s.sed. Her limbs were full of a strength she'd never known. Her eyes focused too quickly, seeing too much. In an easier tone, she said, "I am nothing to you."

"Oh," Leandro said, his tone mocking in its gentleness. He reached his hand out to caress her cheek.

Marcello's fingers shot up as he latched his hand to his brother's wrist, stopping Leandro from touching her. His nails dug into cold flesh. Little droplets of blood dripped down from the wound he made on Leandro's arm onto his face. Neither brother flinched. Their matching eyes locked in silent battle.

"Your eyes look hungry, brother. You should've eaten last night," Leandro said calmly. "Open your lips. I will be happy to feed my guest."

"She is mine. I found her. I made her my slave. She is bound to me until the end of her days," Marcello growled. "Don't touch her again."

"I made her. She is my benighted child. I am her master until I release her, brother," Leandro spat. "She is no longer human.

Her slavery has ended."

Tatiana slowly tried to edge away from them. Their eyes glittered almost black, filling in until no white was left. Their fangs were bared, ready to strike out. Red trails ran over Marcello's pale cheek. As she started to climb over the side of the coffin, both sets of dark eyes turned to her. Both eyes were equally possessive in their claim to her. She s.h.i.+vered, pausing only briefly before leaping out of the coffin. She was weak and fell to the floor instead of landing gracefully on her feet. Her voice was hoa.r.s.e, as she shot, "I don't belong to either of you. Not anymore."

From her hands and knees she looked up at them. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, so dark against her nearly white skin.

Her green eyes shone like two beacons, so very captivating in their depths. Her lips were red, almost crimson.

Marcello dropped Leandro's arm and moved from the coffin, hopping out. Brother stood by brother, in front of her. Their faces were flawless reflections of each other, save for the drops of blood on Marcello's pale face. Even their clothes were the same in cut and fas.h.i.+on--Marcello's waistcoat in blood red, Leandro's waistcoat in dark blue. She thought it strange that they would dress in opposite of their human selves, for their last day alive Leandro had worn red and Marcello blue. She wondered if it meant anything and then decided it was coincidence only.

The only other difference between the twins was the style of their hair. Leandro tied his dark locks back to the nape and Marcello let his hang long about his shoulders.

Tatiana saw their demonic gazes and wondered at it. She looked down. Dried blood stained the cream gown at the shoulder from where Leandro had taken her life. Without the petticoat support beneath it, her skirt fell limp around her hips, dragging on the floor along the sides.

A strangeness was in her body as she looked at them, something she couldn't control. She was hungry, aroused. She wanted to feel Marcello inside her. She wanted Leandro to feed her. She wanted them both to drink of her. She looked at one brother and then the other. They were both handsome. They were both connected to her--Leandro by the dark gift, Marcello by her heart and soul. Both were equally powerful bonds. Without thought, she felt her body drawing them forward, beckoning them to her side.

Both brothers stepped to her at the same time, coming to her slowly, in question, in antic.i.p.ation, in anger, in jealousy and desire. They felt each other without touching, a circle that bound them together--not in love, but in something deeper. It was a bond of fate, destiny, death and blood, in the undeniable eventuality that such things had no choice but to come to pa.s.s.

They were eternally linked in such a way that nothing could sever the tie.

Tatiana was confused. She did not love Leandro, though she couldn't bring herself to hate him. Whatever past deed spurred him to revenge, she knew she already forgave him of it. He'd been as helpless as she. If any were to blame, it was her ancestors for sealing her fate long ago. They turned her into a vampire with their deeds. She was a witch by birthright, vampire by destiny. Her eyes closed and her lips parted to reveal her new fangs.

"You can't have us both," Marcello stated. Though their voices were the same, she knew the brooding in him well.

"Then she will have me, for she is mine," Leandro stated. His voice was lighter, almost pleasant in its boredom.

"She was mine first. You know the tribal laws. You may not take another's bound," Marcello said. "She has sworn herself to me for the rest of her days."

Leandro's chuckle sounded over the room. "And you also know the laws. I turned her. Therefore, she is my responsibility until I relinquish her."

"Relinquish her to me. I will train her." Marcello stepped forward, reaching to touch Tatiana's cheek. Her eyelids fluttered and she looked at him. Her gaze filled with red. She was hungry.

Tatiana barely heard them. Her lips parted wider and she turned toward Marcello's wrist. He stopped stroking her cheek as she bit into him. He held still, letting her taste him. A light moan came from her lips. The taste of him filled her mouth and she sucked greedily. The connection between them grew stronger.

"How does she drink of vampiric blood?" Leandro asked stepping forward. "Such a thing shouldn't be possible, not to such an amount, and certainly not by one so new."

At his words, Tatiana broke her hold on Marcello. He too looked confused by what she had done. Her eyes were completely crimson with his essence. Her fangs almost seemed longer, sharper, deadlier.

"She is strong, different," Marcello said. "Perhaps that is why she can drink of me."

Tatiana gave Leandro's hand a meaningful look, as it hung motionless at his side. He smiled and lifted his wrist to her in offering to see what she would do. Tatiana took it and bit with greedy pleasure. A light gasp sounded from Leandro. Marcello watched in jealous anger.

Tatiana drank just as much of him before breaking her hold. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, offering up her neck.

Instinctively, both men stepped forward. At the same time, they leaned over and bit into the tender flesh of her throat.

Tatiana moaned. Hands found her waist as they held her still. She began to pant, her body hot, o.r.g.a.s.mic with pleasure. They tasted her, her desire for them. She started to quake, brought swiftly to release by their deep, drinking kiss and light touch.

With growls of pleasure, the brothers pulled back to stare at her in wonder. Her neck healed, but not before four crimson trails flowed over each pale breast into the valley between. A light sound left her and she trembled, her body racked in s.h.i.+vers.

"Bound," she whispered. Both vampires looked at her, saying nothing. She could feel their possessive jealousy and did not like it.

"Pray, don't stop playing on my account."

All eyes turned to the door. The words came from a vampire with light brown hair. The locks fell about his shoulders in perfect waves, trailing down his slender back. His voice was thick with an accent unfamiliar to Tatiana and, when he stepped closer, he walked with authority. Tatiana knew this vampire was older than Marcello and Leandro. He was gorgeous in his masculine grace and appeal, but his eyes held a dangerous light and she knew he would be deadly in his purpose. He came forward to examine her carefully.

Tatiana watched, stunned, as no one stopped him. The intruder lifted a finger to her chest and ran it over the four trails of blood. Then, lifting her taste to his lips, he sighed.

"Tsk, tsk," the old vampire said. "It is quite a situation you boys have wrought. Ah, I do wonder why I even bothered to change the two of you. Methinks Servaes never gave me such a headache."

"Jiri?" Tatiana whispered, understanding him to be her vampiric grandfather. Tatiana swore she saw Marcello's eyes roll in his head at the vampire's reprimand and Leandro snarled.

Jiri smiled and bowed to her in greeting. "You are the witch."

Tatiana s.h.i.+vered. Jiri's eyes flashed with green as she had seen the others do when they tried to read her. Only with him, she felt him digging past her defenses with greater ease.

"I had to listen to their bitter arguing for years," Jiri murmured absently, as he pried into her thoughts. "Always battling like mortal children. There were some nights I would've been content to drive a stake through their hearts, if only to end my own suffering."

The probing of Tatiana's thoughts was over as soon as it began. Without warning, Jiri lifted his hand into the air. Leandro flew backward across the room, slamming hard into the stone wall, cracking it with the impact. When he looked up from the floor, blood ran from his mouth in a torrent, pouring over his chin.

"I have warned you about the dangers of changing a woman." Jiri growled. He turned to look at his fallen son, unconcerned that he left his back open to Marcello and Tatiana. "Even a woman such as this. They are unable to last the centuries without going mad from it. Why do you think most of our kind is male? There is reason for this."

Tatiana glanced at Marcello. He said nothing, did nothing, only watched.

Jiri crossed over to Leandro and reached down for him. Lifting his child gently to his feet, Jiri brushed off his coat for him. It was as if no anger had pa.s.sed over the old vampire's features. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, Jiri tenderly wiped the blood from Leandro's mouth. His face shone with love as he looked at his benighted child.

"It is not well done of you,Leandro," Jiri said. "You shouldn't have stolen one marked by Marcello. But, what is done is done."

"I don't relinquish my mark on her," Marcello stated.

"Nor do I," Leandro said, meeting the challenge in his brother's gaze.