Carpathian 10 - Dark Symphony

responded to her voice. Marita collapsed in her husband's arms. Paul and Justine arrived together, breathless and wide-eyed. Tasha hovered near the archway, regarding Byron with suspicion.
    "He saved me." Marita buried her face against Franco's chest. "I can't bear to have this man's blood on me. It was horrible."
    Franco looked up at Byron. "Grazie. I owe you."
    Byron walked straight, purposefully, to Antonietta. In front of her entire family he pulled her into his arms, held her close to him until their hearts picked up the same rhythm. There was pure possession in his posture, a clear signal to the others that he was with Antonietta to stay. She responded immediately, wrapping her arms around him and turning her face up for his kiss.
    He bent his head to hers. Her lips were warm and soft and welcoming. Her mouth was hot and moist and exotic. For a moment everything and everybody receded to a distant place.
    Antonietta tasted of honey and spice. Of love and laughter.
    "Funny how he always shows up right when one of us is in danger," Tasha muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. She glared at Byron.
    Byron lifted his head to look at her, his black eyes burning red, his fangs exposed when he smiled. He had enough of Cousin Tasha and her ugly games with Antonietta. If she wanted to play with no rules, he was more than willing. She often made Antonietta's life very uncomfortable. It wouldn't hurt the woman to have a taste of her own medicine.
    Tasha gasped and stepped back, crossing herself. When she blinked, Byron's smile was normal, his face handsome. The red flames flickering in the depths of his eyes were merely a reflection of the many burning candles scattered around the entryway.
    Tasha shivered, but she deliberately walked straight to her cousin's side, her huge, dark
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    Dark Symphony
    Page 99 of 188
    eyes angry. "How did you happen to come upon Marita and a dead body, Byron?" There was a challenge in her voice.
    "Thank the good Dio you found her, Byron," Antonietta said. She touched Tasha briefly.
    "You must call the authorities at once. Say there has been a dreadful accident in the grove.
    Ask the good captain to come. Tell him our people are already used to his presence, and with everyone so nervous, I would appreciate it if he were to come personally." I sense her uneasiness. What are you doing to her?
    What am I doing to her? She practically accused me of assaulting Marita.
    Antonietta made a small gesture of acceptance. That is just her way, to strike out when she is upset or afraid.
    Byron set his teeth. Cousin Tasha needs manners.
    Tasha nearly leapt for the phone, forgetting her determination to save Antonietta from her own folly in the hopes of seeing the handsome captain. "Of course, Antonietta."
    "Paul, go to Nonno and let him know what is happening. I don't want him any more upset than necessary."
    Franco led a sobbing Marita away, with Helena clucking soothing nonsense and promising a bath immediately.
    That was it, Byron decided. Antonietta was blind, yet she knew who was in the room, and she took instant command. She was incredible. His heart was beating loud, and he calmed it. Pride for her. It both amused him and alarmed him that he could read her thoughts of confusion in her relationship with him. She believed they would have a short-term affair, he would go on his way, and she would continue her life. She was slowly coming to the realization that she didn't want him to go, but she still expected it. Neither of them had a choice, but she had no way of knowing it, and he had no intention of compounding her resistance by enlightening her.
    Antonietta moved closer to him, fitting her body into his, resting on his strength in the midst of the hysterics. She rubbed her face along his chest, went ramrod stiff, and stepped away from him. You've been with another woman. The accusation was a statement of fact, the words shimmering in his mind, orange red with flames. It was another betrayal, and it shattered her. He could feel the waves of anger mixed with a ferocious grief.
    There will never be another woman. Never. Not for me. He used his purest tone, one unable to utter an untruth.
    "Antonietta," Justine said. "We have to talk, all of us. Paul, you, even Byron and me. We can't let this