Vicki shook her head. For a few minutes, she had almost forgotten that she was talking to a ghost, or that there was anything unusual about Antonio. But talk of a few hundred years brought her swiftly back to reality. She laughed inwardly. Reality, indeed. Everything that had happened since the night Antonio first entered the diner seemed like some kind of fever-induced dream.
“Has he shown you the house?” Lady Kathryn asked. “It has been in my late husband’s family for generations.”
“Yes, Antonio gave me a tour. It’s a fabulous place.” Vicki wanted to ask if there were any other ghosts haunting the castle, but she was afraid she might offend Lady Kathryn, and surely if there were, Antonio would have mentioned it.
“Thank you.” Lady Kathryn smiled, pleased, and then grew serious once more. “I saw a strange man wandering the grounds late last night. Are you expecting visitors?”
Vicki shook her head. “No.”
“I do not recall seeing him in the area before. He had the most peculiar eyes.”
Fear jolted down Vicki’s spine, making it suddenly hard to breathe. “Peculiar?”
“Yes, they were yellow, almost like a cat’s eyes. Very strange.” Lady Kathryn frowned. “Is something amiss? You look quite pale.”
Vicki took several deep breaths. She felt pale. And frightened. Only last night she had asked Antonio if Falco could have followed them. Now she knew that he had.
She was fixing dinner when Antonio appeared in the kitchen. She felt a sudden rush of heat warm her cheeks when she turned and saw him standing there. His gaze met hers and her mind flooded with images of being in his arms, of his mouth on hers. And suddenly it wasn’t the chicken baking in the oven she was hungry for, but the feel of his arms around her, his mouth crushing hers, his voice whispering in her ear.
“Ah, my sweet one,” he murmured. “For me it is the same.”
“Then why are you standing way over there?”
He lifted one brow, smiled a smug masculine smile when she pointed one finger at him and beckoned him to come to her.
He closed the distance between them in two strides and drew her into his arms. Lowering his head, he branded her lips with his.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight as he deepened the kiss, his mouth scorching hers, his tongue a flame that burned every other thought from her mind.
His hands moved over her back, slid down to cup her buttocks, drawing her more firmly against him, letting her feel the heat of his arousal.
She moaned, a raw animal-like cry of need, as she pressed herself against him, wanting to be closer, closer. Her hand delved under his shirt, her nails raking the cool skin of his back.
He breathed her name as he rained kisses on her face, her neck, the hollow of her throat. He might have taken her there, on the kitchen table, if a sudden rush of cool air hadn’t filled the room, followed by a peal of merry laughter.
“Really, Antonio,” Lady Kathryn said, “can you not wait until you have her under the sheets?”
Cheeks hot with embarrassment, Vicki looked over Antonio’s shoulder to see the ghost standing in the kitchen doorway, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Antonio muttered an oath as he loosened his hold on Victoria and turned to face the intruder. “I have not seen you for days and now you appear?” Though his voice was gruff, Vicki didn’t miss the underlying note of affection. “Be gone with you, spirit!”
Lady Kathryn laughed again as she glided into the room. “Are you two so caught up in each other you would let the house burn down around you?” She gestured at the stove. “Yon dinner is aflame.”
“Oh, no!” Vicki ran to the stove and opened the door. The chicken wasn’t on fire, but it now resembled charcoal more than chicken. She pulled the roasting pan from the oven, uttering a wordless cry of pain as the hot metal burned her hand.
Antonio was beside her in an instant. Taking her injured hand in his, he bit his finger hard enough to draw several drops of blood, which he spread over the angry burn on her hand.
“What are you doing?” Vicki exclaimed, and then murmured, “Oh, my,” as the throbbing pain receded to a dull ache and then disappeared.
She looked up at Antonio, shocked beyond words at what had just happened. She looked down at her hand, which was healing before her eyes, the raw, red patch fading until only healthy pink skin remained.
“That’s…it’s…” She stared up at him, stunned.
His gaze met hers, filled with the knowledge of what she was feeling, thinking. Gently, he lifted her hand and brushed a kiss across her palm. “I am sorry I ruined your dinner.”
She nodded. Did all vampires possess this wondrous gift of healing? If so, he should be saving lives, healing children, fighting disease in every corner of the world.
“No,” he said quietly. “It does not work like that.”
“Why not? Why would it work for me and not for someone else?” She looked at his ravaged cheek. It looked better each time she saw him. In the places where it had healed completely, there was no sign of a scar. “Think of the lives you could save.”
“No, my sweet one. It works for you because we have…” He hesitated to say the word.
“We have what?”
“We are bonded, heart to heart and soul to soul.”
At his words, Vicki’s heart began to pound. “We are? When did we do that?”
“When I first tasted you.”
“But…Falco drank from me.” Fear twisted in her gut, worse than anything she had ever known. “Does that mean that I’m bonded to him, too?”
“No.”
“Why not?” She lifted a hand to the stitches in her neck. “He took far more blood than you did.”
“Because I tasted you first,” Antonio said. “But, more importantly, you gave yourself to me willingly.”
“And if I hadn’t?”
“There would be no bond between us.”
“That’s how he found us, isn’t it? Because he took my blood?”
Antonio nodded. “But he has no power over you.”
“Well, this has been most enlightening.” Lady Kathryn hopped down from the top of the refrigerator where she had been sitting and observing. “There’s just nothing like young love, is there?”
“Young?” Antonio asked with a wry smile. He had not been young for over five hundred years.
“Perhaps I should have said new love,” Lady Kathryn amended airily. “Behave yourself, Antonio. Do not bed the girl until you have wed the girl.”
And with that bit of unexpected motherly advice, Lady Kathryn vanished from the room.
“She’s quite a character,” Vicki remarked.
“Indeed,” Antonio said dryly.
Lady Kathryn’s talk of marriage left Vicki feeling oddly nervous. As much as she cared for Antonio, as much as she loved him, if she was being honest, she knew they could never marry or have a normal life together. The thought saddened her. Not wanting to dwell on it, at least not while he was in the room, she pasted a bright smile on her face.
“Well,” she said, going to the refrigerator and pulling out a large bowl, “it looks like I’ll just be having salad for dinner.”
“Victoria?”
“What?” She pulled a fork from the silverware drawer and placed it on the table, along with the salad bowl and a bottle of Italian dressing.
“Something has upset you.”
“I’m not upset.”
“You cannot lie to me, my sweet. What is it that troubles you? Was it Lady Kathryn’s reference to marriage?”
“Why should that upset me?”
Moving up behind her, he placed his arms around her waist and drew her back against him. “I would like nothing more than to make you my wife.”
“Would you?” she asked tremulously.
“You know I would.” His breath warmed her cheek. “I can think of nothing that would give me more pleasure, but you would not be happy as the wife of a vampire.”
When she
started to protest, he turned her in his arms and silenced her with a kiss. “You would not mind at first, but in time you would come to resent the hours that I cannot be with you, just as you would come to resent the fact that the years had no claim on me.”
She wanted to argue with him, to tell him that she loved him, that the differences between them didn’t matter, but in her heart, she knew they did, knew that everything he said was true. In time, she would grow old and frail while he remained young and robust.
Breathing deeply, he buried his face in the wealth of her hair. “When Falco has been destroyed, I will take you home to your old life.”
His words dropped like cold stones into the pit of her stomach.
“It is for the best, my sweetest one.”
“Whose best?” she cried. “Not mine! If you loved me, you wouldn’t want to leave me!”
“I do not want to leave you, but in time you would come to hate me, and that is something I cannot bear.”
Whispering, “I don’t want to live without you,” she pulled his head down and kissed him, pouring all her love and all her desire into that one searing kiss.
Antonio moaned deep in his throat as hunger and desire warred within him. For a moment, he returned her kiss with all the passion and yearning in his heart and then, with a strangled cry of despair, he put Vicki away from him and fled the room before his hunger and his desire dragged them both down a path that could only lead to disaster.
Chapter 29
Fleeing the castle, Battista sought refuge in the dark of the night. Finally, after centuries, he had found a woman to love, a woman who accepted him for what he was. A woman who wanted him.
Lost in thought, he walked through the heavily wooded area that surrounded the outskirts of the land bordering the castle’s perimeter. Maybe he was wrong to turn her away. There was no reason why they couldn’t spend a few years together. He could give her pleasure for a little while, ease his own loneliness. And when she tired of living with him, she could return to her old life, find a husband, settle down, raise a family…
A low growl rumbled in his throat. Who was he kidding? Once he possessed her, body and soul, he would never let her go. He was a vampire, not a saint. What was his, he fought for and protected. What was his, he kept. He wasn’t noble or kind. He couldn’t love her for a year or two and then just let her go.
You could make her what you are.
The possibility had been in the back of his mind since the first night he saw her, but this was the first time he had dared put it into words. With a savage cry, he thrust the thought from his mind. She would never agree to be as he was, and he loved her too much to force the Dark Gift upon her. And yet…It would do away with so many of the barriers now standing between them.
Then ask her, urged the same persuasive voice in the back of his mind. All she can do is say no.
Yes, perhaps that was the answer.
And if she says no, then you can force her to accept it.
No! Never that. But perhaps there was another way. If he gave her a little of his blood from time to time, it would prolong her life, keep her young.
But eventually she will grow old and die and you will be alone again.
But at least they could have a life together.
What kind of life would that be for either of you? Like must marry like for true happiness, true understanding.
Victoria, a vampire…He pictured it in his mind. She was lovely now. Touched with the Dark Gift, she would be even more beautiful, every feature enhanced and perfected. She would be a goddess…But would she still be Victoria?
Have you changed? the voice asked. Are you not the same as you were before?
And therein lay the answer. He had changed. He was a hunter now, a killer, and though he had not taken a human life in years, the urge to do so was always there. It had taken decades of self-denial and discipline to overcome the savage need to devour the blood and steal the life of his prey. Even when he knew he didn’t have to kill to survive, the urge to do so remained strong within him. Almost, he had become like Falco, a creature without remorse, without compassion. A killing machine that took what it wanted with no regard for the hapless mortals it preyed upon, no thought for the pain and grief of loved ones left behind.
He remembered the night when he had made the decision to turn his back on killing. He had been a vampire for no more than seventy-five years at the time. He had been hunting the docks along the coast of Italy when he had come upon a woman and her child. Smiling in anticipation of an easy kill, he had pulled the woman into an alleyway. She had struggled in his arms, begging him to spare the life of her child. He had ignored her pleas as he bent her back over his arm and savaged her throat. There had been no tenderness in him, no effort spent to give her pleasure or ease her fears. Like a wild beast, he had no thought but to ease the pain of his hunger. The woman was limp in his arms, her heartbeat almost nonexistent, when he happened to look down into the face of the little girl still clinging to her mother’s skirts. Brown eyes wide with fear had looked up at him.
“Mama! Mama!” Tears ran down the girl’s dirty cheeks as she tugged on her mother’s skirts. “Please, signore, do not hurt her.”
The pain in the child’s eyes, the note of tender pleading in her voice, had penetrated the hard shell he had erected around his heart. Until that moment, he had intended to dine on the child as well. Now, he saw himself through the eyes of that child. What he saw sickened him.
He looked at the woman in his arms. Her face was deathly pale, her breathing shallow. Biting his own wrist, he held it to the woman’s mouth and commanded her to drink. A few drops brought the color back to her face. Her heart beat grew stronger, her breathing less erratic.
After lowering the woman to the ground, he had taken the child into his arms and looked deep into her eyes. “You will not remember this night,” he said. “You will not remember me.”
She nodded.
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew what money he had and pressed it into the little girl’s hand. “Take care of your mother, ragazza.”
The child nodded again.
Antonio had looked at the woman and the little girl one last time, imprinting their memory and the memory of what he had almost done in his mind. And then he had fled the scene. He had never killed again save to preserve his own existence.
Lost in thought, for a moment he did not realize he was no longer alone. Thrusting the past from his mind, he lifted his head, his senses probing the night.
They were on him before he could defend himself. Heavy silver chains whistled through the air, wrapping around his neck, his chest, his arms and legs, until he was trussed like a turkey bound for market. The silver burned through his clothing, scorching his skin, rendering him helpless to resist.
Laughter rolled over him, filled with malevolent delight.
And then Dimitri Falco strutted into view, preening like a peacock. He circled Battista, rubbing his hands together like a miser about to count his gold.
“Well done,” Falco said to the six hulking creatures standing in the shadows. “Well done. Perhaps, when I’m through with you, I will let you go.”
Antonio stared at the zombies. They stood unmoving, their faces expressionless, yet he detected a faint trace of comprehension in their eyes. Did they remember who they had been before Falco enthralled them? Were they aware of being under Falco’s malevolent spell? Did some last bit of humanity cling desperately to the hope that he would free them from his spell? That he would grant them their freedom once again?
He fought the urge to give voice to his own pain as the silver burned deeper into his skin. It was the worst agony he had ever endured save for the one time he had not made it to his lair before sunrise. That had been a pain so intense, so excruciating, that he had never forgotten it. But this…He was panting now, unable to draw a deep breath. This was almost as bad. In time, it would be equally lethal.
“Bring him.”
With one
accord, the six zombies lifted Antonio and followed Falco into the deep woods.
Vicki wandered through the house, her emotions in turmoil. At first she was angry with him. How dare he arouse her again and then abandon her! If he didn’t want her, why did he hold her and kiss her until she wanted him, needed him, more than breath itself, and then just walk away? It was cruel and thoughtless. And besides that, he did want her. She might not have had a lot of experience with men, but she knew desire when she saw it in a man’s eyes, not to mention the obvious physical signs.
As the hours passed, anger turned to worry. Where was he? Surely he intended to return? Hadn’t he sworn to protect her, no matter what? Was he outside, prowling around the perimeter of the house to make sure Falco wasn’t there?
Standing by the front window, she peered out into the night, but it was too dark to see anything. Heavy clouds covered the moon and the stars.
“Antonio, are you out there?”
“He is not on the grounds.”
Vicki glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Lady Kathryn’s voice. “Do you know where he is?”
The ghost closed her eyes, her brow furrowed, and then she shook her head. “I have no sense of him being nearby.”
“Maybe I should go look for him,” Vicki said dubiously.
“No! There is evil afoot tonight.”
Vicki shivered. In her mind, evil and Dimitri Falco would always be linked together. “Do you know where Antonio takes his rest?”
“Of course.”
“And he’s not there? You’re sure?”
“Aye, quite sure. He never retires before dawn, you know. Poor man. I suppose if one can’t move about during the day, then one doesn’t waste a moment of the time one has.” The ghost flitted around the room, zooming up to the ceiling, twirling around and around in midair. “Sleep,” she said. “He curses it while I cannot find it.”
“You can’t sleep?”
“No. I have no need for it, you know, and yet I miss it dreadfully.” She lighted on the top of the cabinet that held the stereo system. “I find it rather odd to miss something I no longer need. “Tis like…” She frowned a moment. “Like missing one of last year’s gowns,” she decided. “Do you not find that strange?”
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