A social position approaching royalty had taught Reynaldo the value of discretion. Quick response time was learned from years of vampirism. At this juncture, he incorporated both.
An instant after seeing the trio of males on the narrow steps beneath him and Reynaldo was at the door he’d slid through earlier, sword pulled, lips drawn. A dull throb resounded through his ears and got ignored. His focus was on analysis and reaction, everything else was secondary. He wasn’t that concerned over being spotted by a mortal. It’s what he’d come for, after all. But, there was always the threat of vampire hunters. Even here.
And now.
He hadn’t seen this group earlier, which was bothersome. Their stealthy approach was even more so. They moved as one unit soundlessly up the steps, using the shadows to their advantage.
They didn’t have any mark of being Hunters, but that could be misleading. After all, when Reynaldo last left Venice, he’d absconded with two of their kind. He’d used them for sustenance...and sometimes for company, although neither had been a scintillating conversationalist. During their incarceration, he didn’t believe either man sent any kind of message out, but that wasn’t verification that it hadn’t happened. Nor was the amount of time that had passed since. Hunters were notoriously pernicious. Persistent. And patient.
Both men had since perished, one by his own hand. That hadn’t been of consequence. They’d been little more than a diversion, at best. Reynaldo had dismissed their existence from his mind, which could – at the moment - be a mistake.
Another thud resounded from somewhere, louder than the last, and a bit more annoying. He frowned slightly and discounted the sound again. He didn’t have time to waste on superficial things. He needed to grab at facts and evaluate them. He didn’t have much time before they’d arrive...face their deaths.
Or something sweeter.
It would be his choice.
On the surface the trio looked innocuous, almost ridiculously so. Their youth was instantly apparent. They couldn’t be much past twenty. None carried a weapon...at least, nothing noticeable. They were dressed alike, as balladeers from some medieval court. Their short jackets were snug-fitting. They wore padded harlequin-patterned bloomers atop brightly colored tights, while shoes with long curved toes completed their costumes.
Hmm.
It occurred to him how easily a crucifix would fit beneath a jacket. Bloomers could easily conceal canisters of Holy Water. The shoes could accommodate wooden stakes with ease. Reynaldo silently counseled himself. He mustn’t overlook anything here. Hunters were a cunning bunch. He hadn’t survived many a brush-in with them by accident.
Another odd thud caught his ear, stronger than the first two. Louder, too. It was getting irritating. He ignored it to sniff the air. Hunters gave off a smell akin to burning garbage or something equally noxious. None of that was in evidence, although someone had bathed in a surfeit of cologne. Reynaldo’s sword tip lowered. Another dull throb sounded. This one came with a distinct trembling motion. And it emanated from within his chest. Directly where his heart used to—
No.
Oh no.
Porca vacca!
It couldn’t be.
Reynaldo’s knees wavered, threatening to drop him. His blood went icy. A distinct tremor hit his fingers next, severe enough he nearly lost hold of his weapon. He gripped the sword to his torso, sagged back against the door, and caught a quick breath.
A real one.
His heart gave another beat, as if to convince him. This was too immense, not simply because it was happening...but the ‘who’ of it was a complete bombshell. Almost ludicrous. Despite appearances and innuendo, Reynaldo was a ladies’ man. He’d never enjoined an interlude of a sexual nature with a male. Gaining one for his mate was beyond surprising. He was dumbfounded. Flabbergasted. Stunned.
Oh. This was bad. Really bad.
But incredibly good, too.
No. What was he thinking?
This was bad.
And yet...still. It was exciting. Wildly so.
His body kept regenerating while the inner battle raged. His mate was a male?
Covolo.
No way.
No. Fucking. Way.
As if for confirmation, his groin stirred. He glanced down in disbelief before darting his gaze forward again...as if caught in something illicit. He couldn’t prevent the grin, however. Nor the rush of something massive that smacked into his nose.
Oh!
By all he’d ever revered, it was true! Everything Akron had told him!
True....
And staggering.
The first youth entered the balcony. He rushed to the rail where Reynaldo had stood. Reynaldo considered him. Wondered if this was the one. The fellow had spindly legs. That was especially noticeable in his bright orange tights and beneath large padded buttocks. He wasn’t very tall, either. Reynaldo was almost relieved when nothing untoward occurred throughout his frame as he regarded the fellow.
The youth turned back, completely missing Reynaldo’s presence. He gestured with a swift arm to his companions.
“Come on! Look! I told you we’d be able to see.”
Reynaldo hadn’t spent time wondering what might bring them up here. He’d gone directly to the assumption that they’d come for him. Realization was somehow deflating. They’d climbed three flights of stairs for the view. Another gent reached the rail and stood beside the first. He was a bit taller. More muscled. Had a decent amount of shape to his legs. His jacket hugged a form that would be quite manly once he gained some years to him. The third fellow arrived. Joined his companions. He appeared the most fit of all. Oldest, too. Reynaldo sheathed his sword as he considered the trio with their backs to him.
Any of them would do, but the third gent was definitely the most interesting.
Merda.
This was such shit. It couldn’t get more ridiculous. It was akin to evaluating studs at a horse auction. The first one spoke again, pointing down at the crowd. His words mystified at first. And then they altered just about everything.
“Look at the rack on that one. She’s about to pop out of her dress. Didn’t I tell you?”
Reynaldo’s eyes widened. His belly tightened. That’s why they’d come up here? To view breasts? And why was that surprising? It was a prime spot. He’d already noted that. But their interest sent a major snag into his world. The future just got more difficult to navigate. He’d never considered having a mate in the first place. The idea it was the wrong gender was a distinct shock. Knowing they might not be interested was worse. Getting them into his bed could be a real challenge. And sticky.
Literally.
Reynaldo almost snickered at the thought. His heart gave another beat. He inhaled another breath. Exhaled it. His heartbeat came again. Strong. Steady. He took another breath. Waited a span before exhaling it. This was odd. There was nothing else happening. And that wasn’t possible. Unless, he’d been mistaken...and none of them were his mate?
And if not one of them...then who?
He might not be reacting physically, but something odd was taking place. What must be disappointment welled up from somewhere and grew to a consuming level. It shrouded him with a vast cavern of darkness. He’d received the greatest gift only to have it snatched away moments later. The disappointment expanded to become anger, and then it turned to rage. All, without his input or control. If he’d had any experience with this level of emotion, it was long forgotten.
Why...the rage even came with color.
Dark, bloody red.
That shade bled through his vision, pumped in rhythm with his heartbeat. He knew the emotion was completely unreasonable, but that didn’t stop it. Nor did the fact it was directed at the trio that stood with their backs to him like sacrificial lambs. His canines vibrated. Elongated. Went to razor sharpness. He was snarling as the third gent turned for some reason. Saw him.
And shrieked.
If the stupid fellow hadn’t backed into the railing, he wouldn’t have plunged over it. And if Reynaldo were any slower, he wouldn’t have been able to snag the man’s padded rear and yank him back. If it hadn’t been the heaviest one of the three, the landing might have gone unnoticed. And if a decent amount of time and care had been spent on their restoration, the entire balcony wouldn’t have given a shudder just before something cracked in the supports beneath it.
Damn everything.
If he wasn’t caught up in a whorl of misguided emotion, he’d have been reacting. Leaping free of the collapse. He wouldn’t have tumbled three stories along with a lot of debris. He landed with a jarring thump amidst a lot of screaming and a considerable amount of bodies.
And then a large matron rushed over to him and grasped him to her more-than-ample breasts. If he hadn’t been regenerating, he wouldn’t have been gasping for air through her crushing embrace.
But it was her crucifix that did the most damage.
The woman had a large jeweled cross hanging from her necklace. It slapped onto Reynaldo’s chest. If he’d had sense to wear something heavier than thin black muslin, it wouldn’t have burned him with such debilitating effect.
And maybe.
Just maybe...
He’d have done more than writhe in agony as sirens began wailing.