yet.
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she walked beside him
easily.
He drew her into the corridor, and through it to the library, where he
flicked the switch, flooding the room with harsh electric light.
Normally he wouldn’t have bothered.
He’d simply have lit a lamp or two.
He waved a hand to the huge portrait of his parents on the wall.
It had been commissioned shortly after their marriage, and so had
captured them in the bloom of youth and the height of beauty.
“Your parents?
” She caught her breath when he nodded.
“She’s so beautiful, such delicate features and skin like porcelain.
Her hair is like yours.”
At her words Eric felt a rush of memory.
He saw again his petite mother, remembered the softness of her hair and
the sweet sound of her voice.
She’d spurned the trend of leaving the child rearing to the nurse.
She’d tucked him into bed each night, and sung to him in that lilting,
lulling voice.
He hadn’t realized Tamara stared at him, until she suddenly clutched
his hand and blinked moisture from her eyes.
“You must miss her terribly.”
“At least she escaped the bloody terror. Both she and my sister,
Jaqueline, lived out their lives to the natural end, in England. My
father wasn’t so fortunate. He was beheaded in Paris. I would have
been, too, if not for Roland.”
“That’s when you were… changed?”
Eric nodded.
“And afterward, when you were free, why didn’t you join your mother and
sister in England?”
“I couldn’t go to them then, Tamara. I was no longer the son or the
brother they remembered—the awkward, withdrawn outsider who never fit
in and lacked confidence enough to try. I was changed, strong, sure of
myself, powerful.
How could I have explained all of the differences in me, or the fact
that I could only see them by night?
” “It might not have mattered to them,” she said, placing a hand gently
on his arm.
“Or it might have made them despise and fear me. I couldn’t have borne
that… to see revulsion in the eyes of my own mother. No. It was
easier to let them believe me dead and go on with their lives.”
The night was a revelation.
What at first had frightened and shocked her she soon found only one
more unique thing about Eric Marquand.
He was a vampire.
What did that mean?
she wondered.
That the sun would kill him, the way inhaling water would kill a
human?
It meant he needed human blood in order to exist.
She’d seen for herself how he acquired it.
Not by killing or maiming innocent people, but by stealing it from
blood banks.
As the hours of the night raced past he told her of the night he’d
helped his mother and sister escape France, and been arrested
himself.
At her gentle coaxing he’d shared more of his past.
He’d related tales of his boyhood that made her laugh, and revealed a
love for his long-lost mother that made her cry.
He might not be human, but he had human emotions.
She sensed a pain within him that would have crippled her had it been
her own.
How many centuries of a nearly solitary existence could one man bear?
She found herself likening her solitude to his, and feeling another
level of kinship with him.
By the time he walked her to her car the feeling that she’d known him
forever had overwhelmed her confusion over his true nature.
Until she arrived home, after midnight, to find Daniel and Curtis
waiting like guard dogs.
“Where have you been?”
They snapped the question almost in unison.
“Here we go again,” she muttered, keeping her bandaged hand thrust into
her pocket.
“I was out.
I had some thinking to do, and you both know how much I enjoy crisp
wintry nights.
I just lost track of time.
” She was shocked speechless when Curtis gripped her upper arm hard and
drew her close.
His gaze burned over her throat, and she knew what he sought.
“You saw Marquand tonight, didn’t you. Tam my?”
“You think I’d tell you if I did? You are not my keeper, Curt.”
He released her, turned away and pushed a hand through his hair.
Daniel took his place.
“He’s only worried, just as I am, honey. I told you before we
suspected he’d try to see you again. Please, you have to tell me if he
did. It’s for your own good.”
If she told Daniel the truth he’d probably have a coronary, she
thought.
She swallowed against the bile that rose at the thought of telling him
the truth.
But lying was equally distasteful.
“I didn’t see anyone tonight, Daniel. I’m confused and frustrated. I
needed to be alone, without you two hovering.”
She’d done it.
She’d told an out-and-out lie to the man she loved most in the world.
She felt like a Judas.
Curtis faced her again.
He took her arm, gently this time, and led her to the sofa, pushing her
down.
“It’s time you heard a few harsh truths, kid. The first one is this. I
do have the right to ask. I love you, you little idiot. I always
assumed you’d realize that sooner or later, and marry me.
Lately, though, you’ve been acting like I’m a stranger.
I’m tired of it.
I’ve had enough.
It ends, here and now.
I won’t let Marquand come between us.
” “Come between—Curtis, how can he? There is no us.”
He sighed in frustration, looking at her as if she were dense.
“You see what I mean?”
He made his voice gentler, and he sat down beside her.
“Tamara, no matter what he’s told you, you have to remember what he
is.
He’ll lie so smoothly you’ll hang on every word. He’ll convince you he
cares about you, when the truth is, he only cares about eliminating any
threat to his existence. And at the moment the threat in question is
Daniel. Don’t let his words confuse you. Tam my. We are the ones who
love you. We are the ones who’ve been here for you, who know you
inside and out.”
She wanted to answer him, but found herself tongue-tied.
“I know what’s happening,” Curt went on.
“They have an incredible psychic ability. He’s pulling one of the
oldest tricks in the book on you. Tam my. I’d bet money on it.
He’s planting feelings in your mind, making you think you know him.
You feel like you are intimate friends, but you can’t remember when you
met or where.
You trust him instinctively—only it isn’t instinctive.
It’s his damn mind commanding yours to trust him.
He can do it, you know.
He can fill your head with all these vague feelings for him, and make
you ignore the ones that are real.
” My God, could he be right?
“You’re c
onfused. Tam,” Daniel added slowly, carefully.
“He’s keeping you awake nights by exerting his power over you. That’s
why you feel as if you can sleep during the day. He rests then. He
can’t influence your mind.
By using the added susceptibility caused by the lack of sleep, his
power over your mind can get stronger and stronger.
Believe me, sweetheart, I’ve seen it happen before.
” She stared from one of them to the other, as a sickening feeling
grew within her.
What they’d said made perfect sense.
Yet she felt a certainty in her heart that they were wrong.
Or was that in her mind—put there by Eric?
How could she tell what she felt from what he was making her feel?
“What reason would I have to lie to you. Tam?”
Daniel asked.
She shook her head.
She couldn’t bring herself to tell the truth.
She’d feel as if she were betraying Eric if she did.
But she felt she was betraying them by keeping it from them.
She had a real sensation of being torn in half.
“It doesn’t matter, because you’re wrong. I haven’t seen him since the
night at the rink. He hasn’t been on my mind at all, except when you
two hound me about him. And my insomnia was just from stress. It’s
gone now.
I’m sleeping just fine. In fact, I’d like to be sleeping right now.”
She rose and made her way past them, and up the stairs to her room.
She collapsed on the bed and pushed her face into the pillows.
She wouldn’t close her eyes until dawn.
Was it because of Eric?
Was he trying to take over her mind?
Oh, God, how could she ever know for sure?
She herself had said that she couldn’t think clearly when she was with
him.
And hadn’t he demonstrated how he could take control of her that night
on the balcony?
She sat up in bed, eyes flying wide.
How could she stop it?
“I can’t see him anymore,” she whispered.
“I have to stay away from him and give myself a chance to see this
without his influence. I need to be objective.”
The decision made, her heart proceeded to crumble as if it were made of
crystal and had just been pummeled with a sledgehammer.
“I can’t see him again,” she repeated, and the bits were ground to
dust.
CHAPTER EIGHT i (Q Ohe despises me.
” Eric drew away from the microscope at the sound of his friend
entering the lab where he’d ensconced himself for the third night
running.
“She might fear you, Eric, but it’s as you pointed out.
She’s been reared by a man who thinks us monsters.
Give her time to adjust to the idea.
” “She’s repulsed by the idea.”
Eric pressed four fingertips to the dull ache at the center of his
forehead.
“There is nothing I can do to change that.
The fact remains, though, that she is in trouble.
” Roland frowned.
“The nightmares have returned?
” “No, and she no longer cries out to me. But she hasn’t slept since
last I saw her. I feel her exhaustion to the point where it saps my
own strength.
She cannot continue this way.”
“Not since you saw her? Eric, it’s been three nights” — “Tonight will
make four. She’s on the verge of collapse.
I want to go to her.
But to force my presence on her if she’s not yet able to handle it
could do more harm than good, I think.
Especially in her present state of mind.
” Roland nodded.
“I have to agree. But it’s killing you to stay away, is it not,
Eric?”
Eric sighed, his gaze sweeping the ceiling as his head tilted back.
“That it is. What is worse is that I am not certain I can help her
when she’s ready to accept my assistance.
Why does she not sleep?
Is it simply the blocked memory of our encounters keeping her from her
rest, or something more?
Is it possible that my blood changed her in some way—that its effect
is felt even now, after all this time?
Or is it only when I’m near she suffers this way?
Would she be better off if I left the country again?
” “Use a bit of sense, Eric! Would you leave her without aid in the
hands of that butcher who calls himself a scientist?”
Eric shook his head.
“No. That I could never do. If these things have occurred to me, they
must have occurred to him, as well. I’d not be surprised if he decided
to use her for his experiments.”
“Are you certain he hasn’t?”
“I’d know if she were in pain, or distress.”
“Perhaps he has her sedated, unconscious,” Roland suggested.
“No. She doesn’t summon me, but I feel her. I feel the wall she’s
erected to keep herself from me. She resists the very thought of
me.”
An odd lump formed in his throat, nearly choking him, and an unseen
fist squeezed his heart.
The nights were the hardest.
She’d taken to staying late at the DPI building in White Plains.
Her reasons were multiple.
One was that she got a lot more work done after sunset.
No matter how physically and emotionally drained she became, the energy
surged after dark.
She wondered why Eric would want to torture her-this way.
She couldn’t give in to her body’s need for rest during the day.
She’d convinced Daniel that she was better, and for the moment it
seemed he believed her.
At least he wasn’t hovering over her constantly.
Then again, she hadn’t left the house except to go to work and come
home again, in days.
Curtis was another problem altogether.
He checked in on her three or four times every day while she was at
work, and it was an effort to appear wide awake and bright eyed at his
surprise visits.
He hadn’t mentioned again his outrageous suggestion that she marry
him.
She was grateful for that.
She knew he didn’t love her, and still had enough acumen in her dulled
mind to understand what had prompted his words.
He wanted to protect her from the alleged threat of Eric Marquand.
He wanted her under his thumb twenty-four hours a day, and especially
those hours after dark.
He saw that she was outgrowing his and Daniel’s ability to control
her.
As her husband, he assumed he could keep her in line.
She couldn’t hate him for it.
After all, it was only because he cared so much and was so concerned
about her that he had spoken at all.
She gathered up the files on her desk and carried them toward the
cabinet to put them in their places.
The sun had vanished.
She felt wide awake.
It frightened her.
How much longer could she go on without sleep?
Another question lingered in the back of her mind, one more troubling
than the first.
She avoided it when she could, but at night found it impossible.
Why did she feel so
empty inside?
Why did she miss him so?
It was foolish, she barely knew the man.
Or did she?
She found it difficult to believe that her sense of knowing him in the
past had been planted there by some kind of hypnosis.
The familiar sense of him didn’t seem based in her mind, but in her
heart, her soul.
And so was the aching need to see him again.
She longed for him so much it hurt.
How could this feeling be false, the result of a spell she was under?
“Tamara?”
She looked up fast, startled at the soft voice intruding on her
thoughts.
She blinked away the burning moisture that had gathered in her eyes,
and rose, forcing a smile for Hilary Gamer.
Hilary smiled back, but her chocolate eyes were narrow.
“You look like you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet,” she
quipped.
“And you’ve been doing a great impression of a recluse lately, Tam.
Haven’t even been coming outside for lunch. I’ve missed it.”
Tamara sighed, and couldn’t meet the other girl’s eyes.
Hilary was the closest friend she had, besides Daniel and Curtis.
They used to do things together.
Lately, Tamara realized, she’d had no thought for anyone other than
Eric.
“It wasn’t intentional,” she said, and shrugged.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
A soft hand, the color of a doe and just as graceful, settled on
Tamara’s shoulder.
“You want to tell me about it?”
Tears sprang anew, and her throat closed painfully.
“I can’t.”
Hilary nodded.
“If you can’t, you can’t. You aren’t going home to that mausoleum to
brood on it all night, either, unless you’re going through me.”
The mock severity of her voice was comforting.
Tamara met her gaze, grateful that she didn’t pry.
“What, then?”
“Nothing wild. You don’t look up to it. How about a nice quiet dinner
someplace? We’ll get your mind off whatever’s been bugging you.”
Tamara nodded as all the air left her lungs.
It was a relief that she could put off going home, pacing the hollow
house alone while Daniel and Curt either huddled over their latest
“breakthrough” in the off-limits basement lab, or took off to spy on
Eric for the night.
Daniel appeared in the doorway and Tamara flashed him a smile that was,
for once, genuine.
“I’m going to dinner with Hilary,” she announced.
“I’ll be home later and if you waste your time worrying about me I’ll
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