ELEVEN
As I come to, I immediately wish to sink back into the depths of unconsciousness. A headache throbs against my skull like an incessant drum, and dull tenderness aches in my neck.
At once, memories snap into place. I press a palm to my bitten flesh, opening my eyes with a gasp.
His voice purrs over me. “Did you dream sweetly, my pet?”
Bile rises to my throat as I look up into Dante’s smiling eyes. I bolt upright, realizing that I have been resting my head upon his lap.
“Don’t call me that!” I scramble away, voice hoarse, hating how I’m forced to brace my hands firmly to the ground to stay upright.
“But now that I know how much it upsets you, you’ve made it twice as fun.” He grins at me over the book he’s leafing through—one he’s stolen from my horse’s saddlebag. “Would you prefer my darling? My sunlit bride?”
I rub my temples. “Right now? Silence would be ideal.”
“You’re no fun. But we knew that already, didn’t we?”
“How long was I asleep?” I demand, looking around wildly in search of any tendril of light. Darkness still sits heavily upon the forest.
“Only an hour,” Dante says. “Don’t fret, I was watching over you.”
“I can look after myself, leech.”
“Is that any way to thank me for being so gentle?”
“You took too much from me!” I snarl. I glance over at him, taking in his slightly disheveled state, before snapping my gaze back toward the trees with militant focus. “And would you put a shirt on?”
He snorts as he gets up to rummage through his bag, pulling out a fresh grey tunic to slip over his head.
“You’re still breathing, aren’t you? And believe me, that fluttering heartbeat of yours is still good and strong.
” He stows the book and pulls a fresh dress from the saddlebag he’s ransacked.
He tosses it, and in my weakened state, I have no time to react before it hits me in the face.
“Come along. Dawn is nearly upon us. You’re lucky you woke up when you did.
I was minutes from throwing you over the back of my horse. ”
Standing shakily, I focus on the task at hand: beating the sunrise. “Turn away,” I bite out as I prepare to change.
He offers an infuriating little half-smile, but he goes to prepare the horses.
As I shed my gown, I brush the raised scar of his bite.
All at once, I’m swept back into the horribly pleasant sensation of his mouth upon my flesh.
The otherworldly serenity after the sting, the weight of his body pressed over mine—
Fuck. I shove away the thought, disgusted with myself.
Plenty of other slayers bear teeth marks of their own—scars of battles fought and won. None of them can say they invited it.
I briefly entertain the idea of staking him here and now. His back is turned. Blessed wood lies within the bloodied dress I have shed, pooled right at my feet. Explaining away the scar will be simple enough if I have a kill to go along with it.
Swaying unsteadily on my feet, I remember that he is freshly rejuvenated while I am decidedly useless. I sigh.
Maybe tomorrow.
Dante can try all he wants to be the portrait of composure, but his relief is plain when we find our way to an abandoned mill in the countryside.
Our encounter with the bear, along with my unconsciousness, ate away at our precious moonlight, and we have no hope of reaching the village of Terralta before sunrise.
The lodgings may not be what we had anticipated, but Dante will be well-sheltered from the sun.
I fear that in his strengthened state he’ll remain wide awake while I make myself vulnerable with sleep once again. But to my surprise, he settles on his side of the mill and I settle on mine. I don’t dare close my eyes until I am certain he’s fallen asleep.
Despite my rest, I am still groggy the next night, fighting the harsh adjustment to the nocturnal schedule.
More than ever, I’m grateful for the periodic training at the abbey—adhering to daytime sleep for weeks at a time.
If not for that, I might be unequipped to muscle through the symptoms—the constant throbbing at the front of my head, the burning at the corners of my eyes.
A full adjustment will take a few more days, but for now, I must work twice as hard to stay alert.
The stakes are even higher, given that my companion has such a devastating advantage over my senses in the night.
The rugged landscape gradually tames itself into farmland—vineyards stretching on every side. Gone are the sparse abandoned buildings, replaced with occupied homesteads. Firelight glows through the windows, providing glimpses of families clearing the table after supper.
It is minutes before midnight when we reach the village proper.
Terralta may not hold the sprawling chaos and beauty of Florence, but it appears to be lively with movement even at this late hour.
Much as I want to reach Verona as soon as possible, we have little choice but to seek lodgings early tonight; our next stop requires a full night’s travel.
At least we won’t be vulnerable to another bear attack and we can count on having beds. Perhaps I won’t have to hear Dante complain all through another night of travel about putting up with such rugged accommodations.
A group of a dozen men are milling about the outskirts of the walled hillside village, talking excitedly. I prickle when I see they’re armed—and several turn their attention toward us as we steer our horses closer to the entrance. One man breaks away to address us directly.
“You there! Did you encounter anything unusual on the roads?”
I can see Dante’s wicked smirk forming, and I hurry to speak before he can offer a smartass answer that will get us into trouble.
“We were nearly mauled by a bear,” I offer with the crack of a nervous laugh.
“But I suppose you’re more concerned with stranger oddities than that?
” My smile is rather fixed despite my attempt to appear friendly.
I know these types of men. Village militias have a tendency to get in the way of the Order’s delicate work, well-meaning as they are.
“Creatures have been lurking about the village,” he confirms grimly. “Some that look like humans.”
A stocky hunter plants his spear into the dirt. He spares me a quick glance, hesitating as though he loathes to voice this next bit in front of a woman. “There’s a rumor of a bloodsucker, too. We’ve been told there’s a loner roaming the Tuscan woods. Ravenous, dangerous—”
“Handsome as sin?” Dante cuts in.
The hunter scoffs. “Perhaps. But it’s no joking matter. Vampires are cursed to travel in the shadows. Sundown is unsafe with their kind at large.”
I don’t miss the clench to Dante’s jaw despite the playful slant of his lips—the unspoken question of how they had come across this pointed rumor. My own heart jumps a little, too. The timing could hardly be a coincidence. It’s obviously information planted to root Dante out.
And if not… The alternative is just as unpleasant; it means another vampire may be roaming the surrounding villages on our route. I already have enough troubles with one of them on my hands.
The first hunter breaks from the group, narrowing his eyes as he holds his torch up, looking between us. “It’s late to be traveling, particularly alone,” he says. “Most unusual.”
There’s six of these hunters gathered near us. This could very quickly stray from a friendly warning to an interrogation. The fang marks still freshly healed under my braid throb guiltily. I’d have a hell of a time trying to explain that away, if these men caught sight of them.
“We’re in a hurry,” I say. “We confused our path earlier and took a wrong turn after Asolo.”
“If you’ve seen anything tonight, it could save lives,” the man presses, scarcely paying me any mind. There’s something cold in his voice—not quite satisfied with my response.
Dante’s easy smile locks into something horribly smug—gaze sliding to me as his fingers tighten on the reins.
“Truth be told, I’m afraid we’ve been far too busy consummating our recent vows with eager attention to pay much mind to anything else.
” He glances back at them, smile widening slightly. “Very eager.”
I catch on, holding up my hand, to show my matching fede ring. The hunters exchange glances, a whisper of knowing chuckles passing through them. I loathe to imagine the images they’re conjuring of the two of us, but I’m pleased that it disarms their suspicions.
“I see. Apologies—can’t be too careful, you understand. Congratulations to you both.” He steps out of our path, but keeps his eager gaze fixed on Dante, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t suppose you’re interested in hunting with us tonight? Do your part to keep our country safe, traveler?”
Dante scoffs. “Pass. Do I look like a common vigilante eager to do your dirty work for you?” He urges his horse forward, and I offer an apologetic smile to the stunned man before hurrying after Dante.
“Were you this much of a dick when you were human?” I mutter, knowing his finely-tuned hearing can catch my words even over the sound of hooves transitioning onto cobblestone. “What good will you do society even if you cure yourself?”
“Oh, so now humans must be saintlike to be worthy of life?” He sneers over his shoulder.
“I hate to break it to you, but those hunters aren’t strutting around with hearts of gold, stellina.
They’re only interested in bounty payouts and trophies, whether their chosen target is causing harm or not. How very valiant.”