Eternally Bound

by Michelle M. Pillow

  She looked down, listening for Marcello and knowing she would most likely not hear him if he were to come. Taking a step, she began to run toward the alleyway’s entrance.

  “Beautiful night for a walk, is it not?”

  Tatiana stiffened. Her eyes glanced up just in time to see a strong chest in her line of vision. She lifted her hands, crashing into it. She jumped back.

  “Marcello,” she whispered, seeing his familiar face. There was something different about him. His face was the same though she did not readily recognize the expression on it. He seemed to be...pleasant. She frowned, distrusting the look instantly.

  “Bella donna,” Marcello mused in a peculiar way she’d never noticed before. His dark eyes roamed over her. Tatiana shivered. He examined her intimately, inspecting every curve. His gaze lingered on her breasts until she had the urge to slap him. His lips twitched up as she thought it and she knew he’d detected her irritation.

  “What new torment have you planned for me now, my lord?” Her jade eyes narrowed in displeasure and she placed her hands on her hips.

  “Exquisite,” he murmured. “So much passion.”

  “Not for you.” In truth, Tatiana was terrified. She did not like this side of him. She liked him brooding and dark, not smiling and pleasant. This version was much more dangerous.

  Marcello threw back his head and laughed. His words dripped with sarcasm and disgust, as he exclaimed, “So much fire!”

  Tatiana stiffened. He began to pace around her, still studying her, looking her over like a prize mare.

  “Would you like to see my teeth?” she asked sharply when he had come full circle. “Or perhaps I can lift a hoof off the ground for you.”

  To her amazement, he laughed again, a wild sound, and seemed to find amusement in her blatant distaste for him. Tatiana pulled back. Her heart began to beat slightly faster, edged with fear. Had she pushed him too far by trying to escape, by trying to break her words of loyalty to him?

  In a swift movement, he darted forward, sweeping her into his embrace. She shivered, opening her mouth to speak. A tingling went up her spine, not pleasant, but not bad either. She looked up at him, still thinking how strange he appeared.

  “Ah, bella donna,” he whispered. His mouth brushed close but did not claim hers. His lips pushed out softly, and his eyes glimmered with an eerie green light, as he hushed, “Shh.”

  Tatiana moaned, feeling a lethargic spell cast over her limbs. Instantly, she fell asleep.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Somehow, Tatiana knew that she’d slept through an entire day before she ever opened her eyes. Yawning, she stretched. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Tatiana yawned again, opening one eye, as the loud sound escaped her throat. Instantly, she shot up in bed, clutching wool sheets to her chest. That was what had been different, the bed. It wasn’t soft or covered in silk. She wasn’t in the catacombs. The room was small, looking like the inside of a tenement or boarding house. The wooden walls were rough planks. The fireplace was dusty and crumbling and barren. On the floor was a coffin. She frowned when she saw it.

  As she moved her head, her hair tickled her spine, causing her to shiver. She froze. She was naked.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. She closed her eyes tightly. “I am having another vision. When I open my eyes, it will all be gone.”

  A low chuckle was her answer. A cool hand worked its way over her spine. She turned, wondering how she’d missed Marcello sitting behind her. She tried to edge away from him. Perhaps his power over her was wavering. She did not feel the same depth of attraction to him she had before. Perhaps seeing him with the prostitute had somehow freed her from him. He was still attractive, still handsome. Just looking at his body made her excited on a baser level, but the intensity was gone.

  Marcello wore only a tight pair of black breeches. His chest was naked, pale and strong. His arm flexed with agility, feeling his cool fingers along her back, making her skin tingle. His eyes flashed with his dark power. His fingers curled along her side, barely touching the edge of her breast before stroking down over her hip.

  “Why are we here?” she asked, weakly.

  “Ah, this,” Marcello mused quietly, looking around with an unfamiliar expression of amusement. His deep voice was strangely lighthearted. “I am afraid there wasn’t much time to procure better arrangements last night. This place was an unfortunate necessity.”

  “Why didn’t you just go back to the catacombs?” she asked, frowning.

  “I have my reasons,” was all he said. His finger lightly moved to touch her bare shoulder, trailing over her arm. “You are so warm, so soft.”

  She stiffened, closing her eyes tight. His voice dripped with sugary meaning. “Where are my clothes, my lord?”

  “I took them off. I wanted to see you, touch you. I must say, you are very beautiful, bella donna.” His voice was completely without remorse.

  “You didn’t...you and I...we didn’t?” she gulped. She again tried to jerk her arm from his touch, pulling shyly from him. He merely followed her with his hand, continuing over her back where he could reach.

  “Does it matter? If you can’t remember it, it is all the same to you, is it not?”

  Tatiana knew he was right. He’d seen her before, bathed her, touched and kissed her. One more night wouldn’t matter. It was just as well she didn’t recall it. She had enough memories to fight.

  “I saw you,” she whispered. “I saw the human you.”

  Marcello’s fingers stopped.

  “You were in a garden, in a house in the mountains. There was a party, and you were talking with a group of friends,” she said. “You had on a cream-colored waistcoat and a dark blue jacket and a brown wig, at least I think it was a wig because everyone wore them. You couldn’t see me, but for a moment I think you might have felt me. Then I turned, and I saw you again, only you were wearing a red jacket.”

  “Why do you tell me this?” Marcello asked, continuing his fascinated exploration of her back. He moved to test her response to his lightly scraping nails. She shivered.

  “Because I want to know what it means. I want to know why I have these visions. I want to make them stop,” she whispered. She still gripped the sheets to her chest. “Please, do you remember it? Do you remember anything about that day I’ve described?”

  Marcello shrugged. “It could’ve been one day out of many or many days made into one. How am I to know?”

  “I want them to stop,” she whispered. Tears came to her eyes, stabbing her in the chest with the agony of what she confessed. “I don’t want to see anymore. Please, find another witch. This time, I will gladly bind my powers. Please, just find a witch. I don’t want to see anymore. I don’t want to feel them anymore. I saw...Alice...she was dead...and...”

  Tatiana couldn’t finish. She began crying, sobbing wretched tears. She flung her body forward into Marcello’s arms. She didn’t feel their strong connection, and it killed her to lose it. She never realized how much she relied on the thin hope of her feelings for him. If she lost them too, no matter how illusory her feelings were, she’d be completely alone. She would have no one left. She felt his naked chest pressed to hers, divided by only the sheet. Remembering the pleasure he’d given her, she kissed him.

  Marcello started in surprise as her arms wound around his neck. But then, a low chuckle of satisfaction left his lips, and he began kissing her back in a way he’d never done before. She shivered, pulling away, tasting her lips as she studied him.

  “There is something different about you,” she said in confusion.

  “I am what I am,” Marcello answered. His eyes were dark, narrowing in an unfamiliar way. Was she beginning to see him clearly? Was some spell she lingered under coming to an end?

  Marcello grabbed her to him once more, flinging her down on her back as he began to kiss her mouth, devouring her, perhaps even punishing her. His fingers ripped the sheet from her chest as his lips
moved to her neck. He began massaging her large breasts in his palm, circling the nipples in bruising strokes until they were budded and hard.

  Tatiana gasped for breath. He was smothering her. Usually, Marcello had a bit of gentleness to his touch, even in his roughness, but now he was just taking what he wanted, emotionlessly and cold, driven only by the physical need for release. She struck his shoulder. His kisses became harsher, too forceful. His mouth opened to bite. She started to scream, but she never had a chance.

  Suddenly, a shadow came across her face. She blinked as if dreaming. Her hands stopped moving as she stared. Teeth pierced her flesh, and she jolted to feel a mouth sucking on her neck.

  “Marcello?” she whispered, stunned.

  Above her, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes spouting fire, was Marcello. Or was it? She screamed, loud and long, hitting the man who bit her. Her nails lashed out at his naked back like claws, scratching his skin to bleeding. The wounds healed instantly, leaving the vampire unharmed.

  The vampire at her neck pulled back, smiling at her. He licked his lips, crimson with her blood. He, too, looked like Marcello. Tatiana screamed again. She grabbed the sheet, scurrying away from them. She felt a trail of blood running over her neck and didn’t care.

  “Two,” Tatiana whispered, faintly. She looked from one man to the other. They were a perfect match down to the squareness of their jaws, to the shape of their handsome, deep-set eyes. Even their arms looked like the exact same build. The only difference was their expression. The half-naked Marcello’s eyes gleamed with great humor and mischief. The other Marcello was brooding and raw.

  Looking at the newest Marcello, she asked, “Marcello? What is going on…?”

  “So you do know me,” Marcello murmured, his expression growing darker. “You weren’t tricked into my brother’s bed, but went willingly. Tell me, baldracca, did he have to pay for you to spread your legs or did you just do it to spite me?”

  Tatiana’s mouth fell open. She noticed that they both stared at her, never once looking at each other. There was no affection shown between them, no kind greeting. These two were enemies. Weakly, she repeated, “Two?”

  The half-naked brother began to laugh. He was enjoying himself. “I found your little witch out roaming the streets. I smelled your mark on her, brother, and I merely thought to keep her safe for you. You must admit, she’s impossible to refuse, once she offers her body so...passionately.”

  “I thank you for returning my property, Leandro,” Marcello stated with a darkness to his tone. Tatiana felt as if he’d slapped her. She felt so low, so pathetic. Her heart squeezed. He practically snarled at her, as he commanded, “Come, bella.”

  “Bella donna,” Leandro said, his eyes alight with a wayward charm. “Thank you for the immense pleasure of your taste.”

  Tatiana cringed as Leandro licked his lips in meaning. Her hand automatically lifted to her neck, feeling the warm stickiness of her blood. Leandro bowed low before her. His dark eyes flashed with a peculiar blend of red, reflecting her stolen blood back to her.

  Marcello said nothing but finally moved glancing at his brother with disdain. Leandro smiled at him, and Tatiana had a feeling there was more to their feud than her presence in Leandro’s bed. Whatever it was, she did not want to be in the middle of it.

  “Please,” Tatiana said softly, breaking the tension building between them. “Can I have my clothes?”

  Marcello tensed. His jaw hardened. Leandro smiled, an absolutely charming smile, which Tatiana felt oddly drawn to.

  “But of course, bella donna,” Leandro murmured. His tone was deep and seductive. She flinched wishing his words hadn’t sounded so intimate.

  Leandro leaped lightly into the air, flying across the small room with slow ease and landing next to her. She gasped, pulling back. Marcello just watched, saying nothing.

  “But first,” Leandro said. He bit his finger and wiped his blood over the wound on her neck so it would heal. “I wouldn’t want you to bleed to death. It would be a pity to lose one such as you.”

  Tatiana shivered, knowing there was more to that statement than Leandro let on. She turned from him, not wanting to see him so close. It was eerie how much he looked like his twin. She should’ve known it wasn’t Marcello. He didn’t feel like Marcello did to her.

  “Ah, thanks,” she stammered. “It was you I saw kissing that woman at the music hall, wasn’t it?”

  Leandro bowed, nodding his head in confirmation. He crossed to a small dresser hidden by a dark corner. Her dress lay on top, neatly folded. He handed the pile to her, undergarments and all, and smiled. Tatiana took them, backing away.

  She watched Leandro and Marcello wearily. Going from dark, brooding eyes to merry brown ones and back again, she shivered and demanded, “Turn around.”

  Leandro laughed happily. Marcello snarled. It was Marcello who answered.

  “Why does it matter, Tatiana? We have both seen you. We have both tasted your charms.”

  Tatiana flinched. She didn’t think it was possible for Marcello to make her feel more like a whore than she already did, but he had. She sank to an even deeper low. Pressing her lips tightly together, she lifted her chin and dropped the blanket, standing completely naked. Moisture welled in her eyes, but she was too proud to let it fall. She dressed quickly with both of them watching her every movement. Once she was in the chemise and covered, it was easier to move. She slipped the dress over her head, forgetting the corset and hose. Then, as she reached to lace her gown at the back, Leandro whisked forward to help.

  “Allow me.” His eyes danced with pleasure, but she was too tired to stop him.

  When she was laced, she turned to Marcello. He faced the door and was staring at the wood as if he could break it with his will. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, but he didn’t speak.

  Leandro picked up her hand and drew it to his lips before she could protest. But, instead of kissing it, he angled her wrist to his mouth and licked the pulse lightly. In a whisper, he said, “We shall meet again.”

  “That will not be necessary, Leandro,” Marcello said in a dark whisper. “We are leaving Paris. Your services will not be required. There is no reason for you to try to protect my property.”

  “You can’t leave Paris, brother,” Leandro said. “An old friend comes to visit. I expect you to entertain us. He is so looking forward to seeing you again.”

  Tatiana saw Marcello tense. She got the feeling they were speaking privately with their minds so she wouldn’t hear them. She didn’t care at the moment. All she wanted was to get out of the small, dingy room and away from both of them.

  “Very well,” Marcello agreed at last. His voice full of authority, he added, “Come, Tatiana.”

  Leandro didn’t move out of her way. A slow, seductive smile curled on one side of his firm mouth. His eyes dipped down to the floor, and he bowed his head to her in farewell.

  Tatiana shivered, pushing past him. Marcello was already out the door, and she had to run to catch up with him. She rushed through the dim hall of the boarding house, followed by the eerie sound of Leandro’s mocking laughter.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Marcello paced the length of his dining room. The fire blazed angrily, feeding off his emotions as he passed it. He motioned his hand absently to tame it down to a gentle roar. Tatiana was in his bedchamber, taking a bath. In fact, he insisted upon her taking one.

  His brother’s scent was all over her, though in truth, he couldn’t tell if Leandro had fucked her, or if he’d merely touched her. But, remembering the position he’d found the two of them in, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that Leandro had. Marcello hated Leandro for it, but he couldn’t blame him. Tatiana was too much of a temptress to resist, and her strong witch blood was like a drug to his kind. He couldn’t get enough of it, or her.

  When he discovered Tatiana missing, he’d been terrified. He’d run up into the alleyway, had tried to detect her within the nearby streets
, but she’d vanished. Then, as dawn had come, he’d been forced to find his bed. It had been the longest day of his life and sleep did not come to him easily.

  His eyes narrowed as he stared into the fire. He gripped the hard stone of the mantel. What was happening to him? What was she doing to him? He was losing his mind. The woman was driving him into madness.

  His ears detected the sound of Tatiana standing from the bath. He tensed, imagining droplets of water, shining gold from the firelight, clinging to her flesh. How he longed to lick the moisture from her hard nipples, to touch her body with his, letting it glide against him.

  Before he knew what he was doing, he was across the dining room and pushing open the bedchamber door. He found Tatiana drying herself off with a bath linen. A low growl came from his throat. His body was starved for her.

  Tatiana blinked at the sound, instantly moving away from him. Marcello was sorry for her fear but did not know how to alleviate it. He’d lived a century and had learned many things, but it would seem he’d forgotten some things as well. He’d forgotten how to comfort with words and acts. He’d forgotten what it was like to be looked at in happiness and pleasure, pure emotions that weren’t induced by his enthrallment over his victim.

  They could be happy together. He knew they could be. It’s why he took her from her home. He wanted her to be with him. He wanted her happiness, her pleasure in his company. But, he couldn’t force something that wasn’t there.

  The well of loneliness opened inside his chest. It poured out over him stronger than ever before, causing him to snarl viciously at her. She flinched, and he could smell her fear of him. He hated that anxiety. All he wanted was for her to love him, but she didn’t even like him.

  He’d tried to force her to love him, tried to manipulate her into it. Nothing he’d done had worked. He’d bought her the best gowns in all of Paris, beautiful, expensive gowns made by the most exclusive of seamstresses. He’d bought her the jeweled necklace and, in fact, had several more for her, but was reluctant to give them for fear she’d take them as payment for the services of her flesh. He wanted her to be with him willingly.