Page 1 of Light Fae's Love

1

HISTORY

History is everything to a Vampire. History and bloodlines.

Staring up at a massive painting tonight, I contemplate history as I take in the incredible work of art before me. The painting I’m looking at devours an entire wall of the underground Hall of Histories here at the Vampire-run Red Letter Hotel Florence; no small thing, because this hall is enormous. Gothic stone vaults with gargoyles and demonic carvings stretch far all around me, lost to the underground space. Massive like an entire wing of the Louvre, this hall is deep beneath the Florence Hotel.

The space necessary to properly catalogue Vampire-kind’s ancient past.

Lit by a dozen spotlights that flood down from the Gothic stone vault above, the painting is an enormous antique map of the world. Crimson lines like blood—that might actually be blood, enchanted to never fade or lose its deep red lustre—flow all over the map, annotated with dates. A catalogue of Vampire migration around the globe, the dates on the painting span fifty thousand years, the epicenter of that migration in Italy.

Rome—the origin of Vampire-kind’s undead bloodlines.

I feel my Vampire Master Quindici DaPonti’s power flow through my veins now as I contemplate his ancient kin. A descendant of an exceedingly old Vampire bloodline here in Florence, Quinn has become my Master, my bound lover, and finally my friend these past few months I’ve been in the Twilight Realm. We’ve gone through hell together these past weeks to stabilize my opening Dark Fae power.

And his Master Vampire’s abilities—pushed to new heights by the bond we now share.

I feel him smile from across the hall now, as he notices I’m thinking about him. Quinn makes his way through the throng of Masters that are here for the last night of the Meeting of the Havens, an event that has been a resounding success this past week, and joins me at the painting.

I drown in him as he arrives, smiling down at me. His full lips were made for smiling, and his tall, dark, and Italian hotness shines tonight in his deep cobalt tux with its black, rounded satin lapels. Onyx and gold men’s rings adorn his fingers, matched by a Rolex and cufflinks; they shine in the overhead spotlights as Quinn strokes my fingers.

His touch is like a cold-hot burn, his skin always hot somehow even as it is Vampiric and cold. Quinn’s dark brows are level and his cheekbones are high; as gold and red hi-lights shine in his dark auburn hair, I see how his austere beauty cuts like a blade.

Except for the warmth I feel from him, streaming into me via our bond.

The way he smiles is subtle with pleasure, as if we share a secret no one else knows. His cheeks flush now, two spots of color on his pale alabaster skin that we’ve drowned in each other so long out where his ally Masters can see. I love it, though, and don’t break our moment as we linger before the painting.

Quinn threads his long, pale fingers through mine.

Holding my hand as power breathes between us in the night.

It’s like that sudden wave of magic breaks our spell on each other, however. As I’m finally able to look away from his alluring gaze, we glance up at the painting. Where once Quinn would have pulled away from me, never holding my hand out where others could see, we settle into a comfortable silence now.

As we trace lines of Vampire migration across the globe, I reflect on how a major magical blowout recently outed me as his bound Dark Fae and lover. Keeping our relationship quiet is now a moot point. But our real togetherness is private, for us to share when we’re alone.

And we do.

As he feels my thought through our bond, a sexy glint takes Quinn’s dark onyx eyes. A flare of his old Summer Fae fire flickers through his smoke-and-shadow Vampire aura as he leans over, kissing me lightly on the lips.

Letting it linger in front of all the Masters that fill the hall tonight.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Quinn says as he pulls away, though his dark eyes flash with crimson-gold fire now from our kiss. I thrill from head to heels that he kissed me; not only because he did it in public, but because Quinn used to be a Courtier here at the Hotel. He can somehow make even the simplest kiss burn with passion; as he nods up at the painting, I take a moment to get my shit together.

Though I still love watching how the spotlights catch in his hair—and in those beautiful dark eyes that flash with fire for me.

“It’s the Vampire’s Migration, isn’t it? After the Ascendant’s Fall?” I ask, as I’m finally able to look back at the map. I gesture at the massive painting with my glass of chianti, though most Vampires in the hall have chalices of blood.

The Ascendant’s Fall is the origin of Fae and Vampire-kind, and Dark Fae like me. Both Vampires and Fae are a distant offshoot of the Ascendants—powerful Archangels who Fell to earth in the area that is now Rome, ages ago.

Vampires are the dark side of that most potent magic, called the magic of the Night. Fae are descended from the Light side of the magic from those same progenitors. As a Dark Summer Fae, I’m a balance between the Light and the Night.

Something like the original Ascendants—though some call my power an abomination.

“This map shows what we Vampires call Bloodlines.” Quinn nods up at the painting as he gestures to it with his red wine now. “Lines of direct blood-inheritance from certain Ascendants who Fell and became Descendants, limited to only the magic of the Night without the Light they once had. Those Descendants migrated around the globe, spawning Vampire-kind over the generations.”

Like me, Quinn’s not drinking blood tonight, even though he’s a full Vampire. Ever since we bonded the Summer Fae Prince Lucca Bellari into our trio a week ago, Quinn has had less appetite for blood. He still needs it, but I’ve only seen him drink it occasionally this past week, and only in small sips. I’m certain it has something to do with Lucca’s Summer Fae Light magic in our mix now, though Quinn and I haven’t discussed it.

But no one knows the Fae Prince Lucca is in our bound trio just yet.

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