Tribes Of The Vampire - Eternally Bound Part 31

"Wait," Tatiana said. Marcello watched her carefully. The servitor turned at the sound of her voice, his eyebrows furrowing, worried. She looked at Marcello. Softly, she said, "You should tell him where he is at and give him some money so he can get home."

Marcello quietly relayed her words. Cesare frowned but nodded. Marcello turned to the wardrobe and grabbed a little bag of coins. He tossed them to the man and waved him away.

"Grazie, Conte, grazie!"

"Tatiana?" Marcello asked hesitant. Her face was turned, but he could see she cried.

"He didn't know me," she whispered. "You were right."

Marcello frowned. Anger and jealousy curled inside of him. He slipped out of his robe and dressed with much haste. When he was finished, she hadn't moved. "Stay here tonight,bella . I go to hire servants and arrange a dinner. Tomorrow, we will entertain my guests."

Tatiana gasped, turning to look at him. By the time she found the door, he was already gone. She began to cry. Marcello freed Cesare like she asked and, though she was happy for the man, she couldn't help her tears. The honorable vampire had settled his debt. Marcello had paid his wh.o.r.e. She was nothing else to him.

Marcello didn't come home until early morning. He barely said two words to her as he climbed into bed. She wore only a silk robe. Marcello slept in the nude. He did not move to touch her, though she waited.

The next evening when they awoke at dusk, Marcello slid silently out of bed. He crossed naked and unashamed to the wardrobe and, without making a sound, began laying out a dress for her to wear. Tatiana watched him in silence, yawning, still a little fuzzy from sleep. She rubbed her eyes, blinking wearily as she stared at the gown.

"Get dressed," Marcello said. His eyes studied her briefly before turning to the wardrobe. "We must greet our guests."

Marcello stretched his naked arms over his head. His dark hair spilled gorgeously over his shoulders. Tatiana's heart fluttered in her chest and she forced her eyes away.

"They are your guests, my lord," she answered quietly, though she did stand to do as he ordered.

"And you are my...." Marcello hesitated, not sure how to finish. He stopped moving, his hand stayed on a linen shirt in the wardrobe.

"I am your wh.o.r.e," she flatly stated for him.

Marcello closed his eyes, but did not correct her.

The gown he laid out for her was a dark green satin, much like the red, only more ornate with wrap over panels on the narrow skirt. The skirt flared lightly at the hem and hugged tight along her waist. There was one thick strap going over her shoulders and two smaller ones falling over her arms beneath it. Long white gloves reached past her elbows. Tatiana sighed, going to look at herself in the mirror.

Marcello stepped up behind her. He was fully dressed. His green and gold waistcoat matched the shade of her gown, giving him a hint of color beneath his jacket. His breeches and jacket were black. His hands lifted to her hair, as if he would style it.

She shook him off.

"I can do it," she stated simply. Tatiana thought to see disappointment in his gaze, but he bowed and stepped away. She grabbed a brush and hairpins from the wardrobe and made quick work of her black locks. When she was done, her hair was tight to her head and adorned with green silk flowers flecked with gold.

"Here," Marcello said, his voice soft. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy emerald necklace. She shivered as he slid the cold stones around her throat. The beautiful necklace hugged tight to her neck.

Tatiana wanted to cry, but instead lifted her chin. "Another payment, my lord?"

Marcello tensed and she instantly saw her mistake. His nostrils flared, his hands fell stiffly to his sides as if he would like nothing more than to strike. A low growl escaped him and he did not touch her.

"I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. These guests will not put up with your rash tongue as I have. Insult them,bella mia , and they will rip your head off," Marcello's narrow gaze glared out at her.

Tatiana nodded. Breathless, she whispered, "I understand."

"Good." Marcello turned from her and left her alone in the room.

Tatiana sat at the head of the formal dining table. Marcello was at the other side. Only if she leaned over could she see him around the large vase of blood red roses in the middle and the dancing flames of candles. To her left were the humans. To her right were the vampires.

It hadn't been hard for her to pick out which of their guests were humans and which were not. Only the humans ate the meal and drank the wine set before them. And they seemed completely oblivious to the fact that their undead companions did not.

The humans were bloated n.o.blemen who spoke with authority on many topics, but knew nary a thing about one of them.

They spoke in English, which was thickened by French accents, in deference to Marcello's 'courtesan'. Marcello had not flinched as he boldly introduced her as his lover. Tatiana was stunned by the easy way her station eased from his lips, but she kept her face blank the entire time they received guests. She was just thankful he called heril mio amante and not a wh.o.r.e.

The bloated n.o.blemen all sat with their mistresses. They were women of lower standing, though they were richly decked in baubles from their benefactors. They wore dresses of expensive silks and satins, trimmed with lace and gaudy amounts of pleats and tucks. The n.o.blemen showed the lovely women off with pride--like a doll maker shows off a porcelain masterpiece they have dressed up and put on display for the world to see. The women didn't seem to mind their place and in fact flaunted it openly with laughing gaiety that made Tatiana sick to her stomach.

The vampires were more severe in nature and gave her constant chills. Their eyes looked about with a peculiar inner glow that seemed almost green at times. Tatiana knew from experience that they read the mortal guests, listening to their thoughts. A few turned to her and she was careful to keep her mind blank. Luckily, out of respect to their host, the vampires left her alone. All except the distracting Leandro, who openly stared at her, smiling in a way that left her cold.

Leandro had greeted her with a warm, charming smile and a liquid gaze that dipped over her body as if he knew it intimately.

Marcello had stiffened under her hand, but said nothing and did not move to stop him. Tatiana's heart had fallen in disappointment. Part of her wished he cared enough to be jealous.

The other vampires were mainly an entourage of one vampire who Marcello introduced as Gio. It seemed Gio was in Paris on business and, being as he was from Tuscany like Marcello, he thought to pay Marcello a visit. Gio came laden with many bottles of wine, which they presented to the human guests.

Tatiana wasn't sure she liked Gio. Though the old vampire was polite, his eyes had a hardened glint to their black depths. His long, straight hair touched his waist and when he smiled she could see dimples on both cheeks. Tatiana could feel he was powerful. He was tall, towering over Marcello by about four inches, and very slender. Like Marcello, he was at the height of impeccable dark fashion.

The conversation was light, but Tatiana ignored it as she forced herself to take small bites of the roasted chicken and even smaller sips of the strong wine. She spent most of the evening fighting off the advances of a man they simply called Lord Adolfe. His small, beady eyes stared at her chest more than her face to the point his dark beauty of a companion was beginning to take notice.

On her other side was Gio. His long fingers tapped on the tabletop, smoothing out the wrinkles he made in what could've been perceived as boredom. Tatiana sensed better. He seemed only to be biding his time.

"You don't drink?"

Tatiana blinked in surprise. Her jade eyes moved at the low, sultry sound of Gio's voice to meet his black eyes. They appeared almost amused with her. She shivered in response.

"Don't worry, child, for your drink is not tainted." Gio shot her a ghost of a smile. "You belong to Marcello. None here would dare to harm you."

A cold wave of fear shot through her as she looked at the unsuspecting humans. She began to speak, when she felt a hand rubbing its way up her thigh and froze. With a frown, she grabbed her fork and delicately slipped it beneath the table. With a hard jab, she stabbed Lord Adolfe in his meaty hand. He yelped in pain, turning to glare at Tatiana as he shot up in this chair.

Instantly Marcello stood, his dark eyes narrowing in from across the table. His actions prompted the rest of the vampire guests to stand. The humans stopped talking, their smiles fading at the seriousness of their host and his pale friends.

'Bella mia?'Tatiana heard Marcello's voice in her head and she jolted in mild surprise.

I'm fine, she thought, trying to direct it at him but not knowing if it worked. She leaned over to meet his eyes. He smiled at her and nodded, signifying he'd heard her. Tatiana was surprised to discover it had worked.

One by one the vampires took their seat, following Marcello's lead. To Tatiana's surprise, the humans took up again like nothing had happened. Gio smiled at her and winked. Leandro nodded his head when he caught her gazing in his direction.

She couldn't get over how much Marcello looked like his twin. But, as she studied them, she realized subtle difference that made him so much different.

Marcello leaned on his fist, his elbow planted firmly on the arm of his chair. He studied her quietly over the distance. She could feel his dark gaze moving over her and shivered. Taking up her gla.s.s, she took a long drink. The wine curled in her stomach and loosened her tight nerves.

By the time servants came to remove the plates, the humans were nearly falling over drunk. The vampires just smiled, watching them, talking pleasantly with them. A sick sense of dread came over Tatiana. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like how this night ended.

"Tell me, Marcello," Gio said. "Have you seen my old friend, Jiri?"

Marcello slowly shook his head and Tatiana saw Leandro look down to study his longer nails. The brothers looked uncomfortable. "No, not for many years now."

"Who's Jiri?" Tatiana asked, before she could stop herself.