Page 58 of Venice Vampyr: The Beginning

Other voices, Lorenzo’s. “Take her into the house.”

Footsteps, people running, voices echoing in the alley—her mind couldn’t process all that was happening.

“I’ve got him—he’s dead.” Raphael seemed to appear from nowhere. When had he come back from the ball?

“—took the bullet.” Fragments drifted to her.

“Hold on, my love.” Dante’s comforting voice again.

“—so much blood. She won’t make it,” she heard Isabella’s voice cry out.

Then Raphael’s soothing voice, low and steady. “Dante will see to it.”

She felt the movement of Dante’s steps as he carried her, but her eyes were too clouded to make out his face. “So cold,” she mumbled.

“I know, my love. Just hold on. Everything will be alright. I promise you.” But she heard the fear in his voice, the desperation. The pain—the very pain she’d wanted to spare him.

“Forgive me, Dante,” she pressed out, the few words leaving her breathless.

“No! You stay with me. You hear me?” he shouted.

“Here, on the sofa. You have to do it now,” came Raphael’s urging voice.

“She doesn’t know.”

“You love her?”

“Yes,” Dante said, his voice firm and strong.

Then she felt his lips on her, kissing her softly. “I love you. Please trust me, I’m doing this because I love you.” Then his lips drifted to her neck.

Her skin prickled. She felt his teeth graze her, reminding her of the night he’d truly made love to her for the first time. She moaned softly. “Yes.”

When his teeth pierced her skin, she jolted, but Dante’s strong body held her down. She struggled only for a second before giving into the sensation. It reminded her of sex—during sex, the initial penetration had hurt too, but only for a moment. Later, it had been pleasurable. Just like this.

Viola had never thought that she would experience her death so vividly, but instead of simply drifting off to sleep, she relived every moment of her time with Dante. Like a moving picture, it played before her mind’s eye until all went black and quiet. Dark.

Chapter Nineteen

Viola’s blood was still on Dante’s tongue when he pierced his own wrist with his fangs. He’d drained so much of her blood that her heartbeat was down to a mere twenty beats every minute. She was unconscious now but still alive.

Despite the fact that his brother and Isabella stood in the parlor, it was eerily quiet in the house. Neither had spoken a word since Dante had started the process. All his concentration was on Viola. If he missed the moment her body would accept his blood, she would die.

His body tensed as he waited for her heartbeat to slow even further, and the whole scene in the alley played out in front of him again and again. He’d seen Salvatore a split-second before Lorenzo had alerted him. He’d been unconcerned with his own safety—all he’d thought of was getting Viola out of danger. He’d never expected her to act so swiftly and shield him from Salvatore’s assault. She’d sacrificed her life for his, with no reason. Salvatore’s gun wouldn’t have hurt him. Only silver bullets could kill a vampire.

Viola’s heart beat even slower now.

It was time. He raised his wrist and set it against her closed lips.

“No!” Lorenzo screamed as he burst into the room. “Stop, you’re killing her!”

Dante reared his head and growled.

“The bullet is made of silver.” Lorenzo stretched his open palm toward him. It held a ring.

Shock coursed through Dante. He pulled his wrist from Viola’s mouth. He recognized the symbol on the black onyx ring: a cross intersected by three waves. The symbol of the Guardians of the Holy Waters, the group of wealthy Venetians whose mission it was to eradicate the vampires in their midst. A secret society that he and his fellow vampires had been fighting over the last years.

“I found it on Salvatore before I disposed of his body.”