Handsome was an inadequate word to describe him. He was beautiful in the same fashion Michelangelo’s David was beautiful or the Venus de Milo. He possessed the same type of beauty as a summer sunset on the Mediterranean with a full moon rising in the distance. Awe-inspiring. Breathtaking. The type of peaceful, exquisite beauty that made you want to believe in a God or that there was good left in the world. It was the kind of beauty that convinced you to hold on for just one more day.
But it was more than his appearance that fulfilled the image humans now clung to when it came to vampires. It was also his manner. Calm, unshakable confidence oozed from every pore and controlled the muscles in his lean frame. It was in his walk and the way he stood, poised and always aware of his surroundings. He possessed the same seductive beauty as a sleeping jaguar. Beautiful and infinitely deadly when awakened.
Sadira taught me concepts like power and control when dealing in the world of nightwalkers. Jabari gave me the concepts of loyalty and honor, instilling within me a sense of history for my kind. But Valerio taught me how to live as a nightwalker and how to live with myself. He opened my eyes to the world of pleasure and joy. I learned to laugh again. Valerio gave my kind a new reason to fear me. I learned how to play games with my prey, both physical and mental, to induce equal parts happiness and fear.
When I left both Sadira and Jabari, I had never looked back. I stepped from their shadow and pursued my own life, in a fashion. But I had yet to completely shed Valerio. Years withered away and I found myself once again seated in an elegant parlor or strolling down a rat-infested alley with Valerio smiling at my side. I’d leave him with unspoken words like “Never again” balanced on the tip of my tongue, but knew better than to say it. Our paths always found a way to cross.
I had no idea how old he was. Old enough. He had such a quiet, unobtrusive way about him that I couldn’t begin to guess the extent of his powers, but none dared to cross him, and he gave few reason to do so. Was he born chum, or was he a First Blood? I couldn’t even begin to guess.
I didn’t fear him, and I knew that it might prove to be my greatest mistake. I didn’t trust him and was extremely cautious around him, but my lack of fear could prove to be the end of me. If anything, Valerio had taught me to fear myself.
Walking over to where I stood, a patronizing smile lifted his full lips, revealing a hint of white teeth. “Cara Mira,” he chuckled, an Italian accent faintly lacing his words. “I had forgotten you usually sleep late, missing out on the birth of the night.”
“What is it you wanted to see me about?” I demanded, overcoming my momentary surprise that he had chosen to speak in English. It was a struggle to keep from crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t want him to see how tense I was, but I had no doubt he could read it in the stiffness of my shoulders and the frown that pulled at the corners of my lips.
“Where is your companion? The hunter?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“In the suite. I assumed you wanted a private meeting.”
“Oh, I do,” he said, his smile widening. Valerio took one last step forward, the lapels of his jacket briefly brushing against my breasts. His left hand snatched up my right hand from where it dangled limp at my side and he placed his right hand on my waist as he forced me into a quick waltz around the lobby. If we hadn’t been cloaked from the gaze of the people who lingered in the expansive entrance, I’m sure we would have earned more than a few strange stares. “I’ve been waiting to discuss a few things with you, sweet Mira.”
Tilting my head down slightly so I could look him in the eye, Valerio took advantage of our closeness to press his lips to mine. My body reacted to the familiar contact before my brain had a chance to step in. We stopped moving and I leaned into his hard frame, relaxing at his touch as my eyes drifted shut. His right hand slid from my waist to my back, pulling me tightly against his frame. His familiar touch eased the tension from my shoulders and it drained from the muscles in my limbs. His scent teased my nose as if trying to call up some of the good memories I had packed away of him. For some strange reason, the nightwalker smelled of cinnamon.
But it was wrong. My thoughts finally surfaced above the sensations vibrating in my frame. Valerio was trouble. He was another manipulator and killer. And the kiss was no different than the one I had received from Rowe, leaving me feeling used and dirty. More of my nights with Valerio had been washed in blood than all my years with Sadira and Jabari. The only difference being that Valerio had made it fun, where his predecessors had turned it into a nightmare.
Breaking off the kiss, I pushed against his chest. The nightwalker didn’t fight me, allowing me to take a few steps out of his embrace. Rubbing my eyes, I shook my head, marveling at how quickly I had been swept up in him. “Don’t touch me,” I said in a cold, hard voice.
“I’ve missed you, Mira,” he murmured, drawing my gaze back to his face.
I snorted, stifling the bitter laugh that nearly escaped. “And last night you were calling me a traitor. I’m no fool, Valerio.”
“Foolish, sometimes, but never a fool,” he said. His smile widened to reveal a pair of perfect white fangs.
Waving my hand dismissively at him, I turned to pace away from him when the sound of my muffled footsteps caught my attention. I looked down at the thick white carpet that covered the floor. The hotel lobby was entirely filled with marble. My gaze jerked up to find that I was no longer standing in the lobby of the Cipriani, but in a salon with antique furniture.
“Damn it, Valerio!” I growled, stalking over to one of the curtained windows on the far wall. “Where the hell am I?” The decor was unlike anything I had seen in the Cipriani. In fact, it didn’t remind me of anything I’d seen in Venice.
“Somewhere private,” he replied.
Ignoring him, I grabbed the curtains in my fists and jerked them open to reveal concrete where the canals had once been. I glanced up and down the street but didn’t immediately recognize any of the buildings. A knot of panic tightened in my stomach and I forced myself to release my hold on the curtains before I sent them up in flames. “Where the hell am I?” I snarled, turning back to face the nightwalker. He still stood in the center of the room, his hands in his pockets again. My flare of temper had no effect on his mien of perfect calm.
“In my private apartment in Vienna,” he said with a slight shrug.
“Vienna, Austria?” I shouted. “Send me back now.” I was furious with him and myself. He had kissed me so I wouldn’t notice the push through space, and I let it happen, hoping for a moment to erase the memory of Rowe’s kiss. I wanted to ask when he had gained the ability to disappear and reappear across vast distances like Jabari. It was a skill I had never seen him display before, and it made me more than a little nervous. Only the Ancients had such a skill, and Valerio never admitted to being more than one thousand years old.
“We need to talk Mira and we cannot do that in Venice,” he calmly said.
“I will not let the court hurt Tristan again or threaten Danaus. Send me back now,” I said through clenched teeth, closing in on him. “First Nicolai, and now you. I always thought the role of distraction was beneath you.”
“I am not acting on behalf of the Coven or its pets,” he continued, unmoved by my rage. “I left the island last night shortly before you did and have not returned to San Clemente. I do not know what the Coven plans for you today, but I promise that my bringing you here is not an attempt to threaten those that belong to you.”
“Then send me back,” I stubbornly repeated. My anger was ebbing, but frustration was still evident in my voice. I was afraid Jabari or anyone else on the Coven would sense that I was no longer in Venice. They would jump at the opportunity to attack Danaus and Tristan. I had to protect them, but I couldn’t do that when I was several countries away.