A Whisper Of Eternity (20 page)

She smiled when she saw him. “Dominic. It has been too long.”

He closed the distance between them and kissed her cheek. “I bid you welcome, Kitana.”

“Such a quaint little place that you have chosen for your own. I would have thought the cities of Europe would have been more to your . . .” She smiled broadly. “Taste.”

Taking her hand, he led her to a booth in the back of the room, sat down only after she was seated.

For a moment, they regarded each other across the table. Dominic wondered if she was remembering the years they had spent together, as he was. So many good years. She had taught him the ways of the Undead, and so much more. She had taught him to read and write, given him an appreciation for art and music, schooled him in deportment and etiquette, turned him from an ill-mannered lout into a gentleman. For better or worse, she had truly made him the creature he was tonight.

“They were good times, were they not?” she remarked.

Dominic nodded, wondering if she had also been reminiscing, or merely reading his mind.

“And so, we meet again. I wish it could be under more favorable circumstances.”

“Indeed.”

“I cannot let you destroy Petrina. She is mine, and I protect what is mine.”

“She has hunted in my territory. She has broken my law.”

“She did not feed on the boy.”

“No,” Dominic said, his voice hard. “You did.”

“And very sweet he was, too,” she said with a wolfish grin. And then she grew serious once more. “I have also broken your law. Will you destroy me as well?”

“Could I?”

A slow smile spread over her lips. Her green eyes glinted like emeralds touched with hellfire. “No. But then, you are mine, as she is mine.”

It had been years since he had known fear. It crawled over him now. “You cannot protect us both.”

Dominic watched her carefully, wondering which of her fledglings she would choose to defend. All too clearly, he recalled her threat of long ago to bring him to his knees and though she seemed friendly enough now, he wondered if he dared trust her, or if she was just toying with him, hoping to catch him off guard.

“We can end this amicably enough,” she remarked. “You have only to send Petrina and her cohorts away.”

“Then you have not come here to help her seize my territory?”

Kitana laughed softly. “Is that what you thought?”

“It crossed my mind.”

“Foolish creature. I came here to make sure you did not destroy each other. So,
mon ami
, will banishing her from this place be punishment enough?”

Though it wasn’t what he wanted, it was a decision he could live with. And the sooner it was over, the sooner he could return to Tracy.

He nodded his assent.

“You have chosen wisely,” Kitana said. “I will summon Petrina.”

All eyes were on the door when Petrina and Zarabeth entered the room.

Dominic slid out of the booth, his cloak flowing behind him. “You have broken my law,” he said. “Because you are favored of my Maker, I have decided to be lenient with you. From this night forward, you are no longer welcome in this place.” He looked at Zarabeth. “Do you stand with her?”

Zarabeth nodded.

“So be it,” Dominic declared.

Petrina glanced at Kitana, who was standing beside the booth Dominic had vacated. “You are going to let him do this?”

Kitana nodded. “It is my wish that you do as he says.”

Petrina looked back at Dominic, defiance blazing in her eyes. Three of the vampires sitting at the bar rose and went to stand behind her.

“Franco. Laslo. Turk.” Dominic’s gaze settled on each one as he spoke their names. “Do not let me find you in my territory again. Be gone now, all of you.”

Zarabeth and the three male vampires vanished in a swirl of thick black smoke, leaving Petrina standing alone in the center of the room.

She lifted her arm and with a steady hand, pointed a finger at Dominic. “You will regret this night,” she hissed, and then she, too, was gone.

At her going, the tension bled out of the room and the remaining vampires resumed what they had been doing before Dominic arrived.

Kitana approached Dominic, smiling faintly. “Peace has been restored.” She placed her hand on his arm. “It was good to see you again.”

“And you.”

“Are you happy with your little mortal?”

The question sent a chill down his spine. Kitana was a female and like all females, could be given to jealousy. “Very happy.”

“Will you bring her across?”

“That decision is hers, not mine.”

Standing on tiptoe, Kitana kissed him, first on one cheek, then the other. “I hope we will meet again soon.”

“I would like that.”

With a smile and a wave of her hand, she dissolved into a sparkling red mist and was gone.

Dominic blew out a deep breath, relieved that the matter had been settled without violence or destruction.

It was still early. If he hurried, he could spend a few hours with Tracy before sunrise.

Upon leaving The Catacombs, Dominic stood outside for a moment. Though he had seen nothing but the night for centuries, he still found enjoyment in the dark. He glanced up at the vast blue sky, his gaze tracking the path of the Milky Way. Mortals saw so little with their limited vision. With his vampire sight, he saw the heavens in all their glory. It was a miraculous display, a manifestation of such boundless power that it made his own abilities seem infantile in comparison.

Lost in thought, he walked away from The Catacombs and into the night. He had told Tracy he believed his soul was lost, but was it? Would a Being who could create worlds without number and all the forces of life and nature condemn him for what he was? Could he yet find forgiveness?

Shaking such serious matters from his mind, he hurried his footsteps as he turned his thoughts toward Tracy.

Perhaps if he had not been thinking of her, he might have sensed their presence before it was too late.

They sprang at him from the mouth of an alley. Silently and without warning, the five of them drove him backward, pinning him to the ground as they savaged him with their fangs. Driven by hatred, filled with the blood of those they had preyed upon earlier, they were at their most powerful. He felt Petrina’s fangs dig deep into his throat. Franco and Turk, each holding an arm, slashed at the veins in his wrists. He felt the blood flow from his body as he fought to throw them off.

Zarabeth dragged her fingers down his chest. Her nails, as sharp as claws, ripped through flesh and muscle.

With a mighty roar, he summoned his power, gathered it to him, and threw the two male vampires away from him.

Like cats, they landed on their feet. Surrounding him, they darted in, but he was ready for them now. Grabbing Zarabeth by the neck, Dominic hurled her into a pile of wooden boxes. Zarabeth shrieked as a box broke beneath her weight, driving a sharp piece of wood into her back and through her heart. It was a death blow. Dark red blood spurted from the wound.

Petrina screamed in rage as her fledgling breathed her last.

Laslo and Franco rushed him from either side. He grasped each of them by the collar and slammed their heads together in a satisfying crack. They fell to the ground, momentarily stunned.

And now Petrina and Turk circled him, their fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

Panting, his strength ebbing like the outgoing tide, Dominic faced them, his fangs bared.

Young and foolish, Turk lunged forward. Summoning the last of his strength, Dominic grabbed Turk by the neck. With a cry, he ripped out the other vampire’s throat, then tossed him aside. The vampire sprawled on the pavement like a broken doll.

Standing alone now, Petrina screamed again.

Drawing himself up to his full height, Dominic beckoned to her. “Come,” he said, “let us end it now.”

Laslo staggered to his feet and grabbed Petrina by the arm. “Let’s go,” he urged. “He’s too strong for us.”

“No!”

Laslo tugged on her arm again. “Someone’s coming!”

With a wordless cry of frustration, Petrina glared at Dominic as she lifted the lifeless Zarabeth into her arms and then melted into the shadows. Franco lurched to his feet, picked up Turk, and followed Petrina and Franco down the street.

Dominic staggered into the alley, hiding in the shadows as a patrol car passed by.

He stood there, panting heavily, while blood flowed from his wounds.

He needed to find shelter.

He needed blood.

He needed Tracy.

 

 

Tracy sat in the living room, a blanket drawn over her legs. Earlier, she had turned on the TV for company, but she was only vaguely aware of what was going on. She’d had a feeling of impending doom ever since Dominic left the house. Time and again she stared at the clock on the mantel, willing the minutes to hurry by, willing him to return to her.

Something had gone wrong. She knew it without knowing how she knew, knew it with such certainty it made her sick to her stomach.

She glanced at Bryan, sleeping soundly on the sofa. Once, she had tried to wake him up, but, caught in whatever spell Dominic had put on him, he had mumbled something about walls and turned over, oblivious to her presence.

“Dominic.”

She fell asleep with his name on her lips.

She woke with a start. Frowning, she opened her eyes and glanced around, wondering what it was that had awakened her. Bryan was still asleep on the sofa. The voice of an early morning talk show host droned from the television set. Thinking it must have been the TV that awakened her, she closed her eyes, only to open them again as a faint scratching sound reached her ears. At first, she thought it was only the leaves brushing against the side of the house. And then it came again, louder this time. Someone, or something, was scratching at the front door.

Filled with trepidation, she rose to her feet and padded barefoot toward the foyer. “Is someone there?”

Tracy.
Dominic’s voice sounded in her mind.

“Dominic? Is that you?”

Pushing the curtains aside, she peered through the front window, gasped when she saw him sprawled out on the floor of the porch.

Turning the lock, she opened the door. “Dominic!”

He reached for her hand and she grasped it in her own. Lifting him to his feet, she helped him into the house, closed and locked the door behind them.

Once inside, he sagged against her. It took all her strength to help him into the kitchen. He sank down in a chair, squinting against the light as she removed his blood-soaked shirt and trousers. Even his socks were drenched with blood.

Tracy stared at him in horror. His face and hands were badly burned. The skin on his chest was deathly pale, his eyes were red and sunken.

“What happened to you? Did Kitana do this?”

“No.”

Pulling a dish towel from a drawer, she wet it in the sink and as gently as she could, began to wipe the blood from his face. He winced and jerked away from her touch.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, and ministered to the wounds in his chest. So much blood. The towel soaked it up and she tossed it in the sink and wet another one. “How did this happen?”

“Petrina.”

“She did this?” Tracy asked in disbelief.

“She had help.”

“Why didn’t you?” The second towel was thrown into the sink with the first.

“This is my territory. If I am to hold it, I must be strong enough to do it alone.”

She pulled another towel from the drawer and wiped the blood from his legs. “You could have bled to death.”

“No. They were clumsy in their haste.” He looked down at his wounds. Though he had bled a great deal, none of the wounds was deep enough to be life-threatening.

With a shake of her head, Tracy wiped the last of the blood away, then tossed the third towel into the sink with the others. She looked back at him, wondering what else she could do.

He put his hand on her arm. “Tracy . . .”

“What? Did I hurt you?”

“I need . . . blood.”

The way he said it, the expression in his eyes, told her he needed much more than the small amounts he had taken before.

When she had him cleaned up, she slipped an arm under his shoulders and helped him to his feet. Step by slow step, they made it up the stairs to the guest bedroom she had recently redecorated.

He groaned softly as she lowered him onto the mattress.

She hovered over him, clutching one of his hands in hers. His skin was almost as white as the sheets.

“Tracy . . .”

“I . . .”

Murmuring “It is all right,” he closed his eyes She stared down at him, stricken by his appearance, by the horrible thought that he might die. She shook her head. He couldn’t die. Could he?

She chewed on her lower lip, wanting to give him what he needed, yet afraid. What if he took too much? What if he took it all? What if he turned her into a vampire?

Dared she take the risk?

How could she not?

Her decision made, she stretched out on the bed beside him. “Dominic?”

His eyes opened, dark and filled with pain she could not imagine.

“Take what you need.” She turned her head to the side, giving him access to her neck. “But, please, don’t take too much.”

His lips were cold against her skin. The hands that held her trembled. She felt the prick of his fangs and then closed her eyes as pleasure spread through her. The movies always made it look so painful, she thought drowsily, when it was really quite pleasant.

Fragmented images of Dominic drifted through her mind—a young Dominic riding a horse through a field of tall grass, a newly made vampire on the trail of prey, being burned by the sun when he failed to reach his lair in time.

She moaned softly, then began trying to free herself from his embrace as her instinct for survival surged to the fore.

“Dominic!”

He drew back, his eyes glittering, a drop of blood—her blood—on his lips.

Lifting a hand to her neck, she stared at him. There was color in his cheeks again, his eyes were no longer sunken.

She had done that for him. It was her last conscious thought before she pitched headlong into oblivion.

 

 

“Tracy! Tracy, wake up! Good Lord, what has he done to you?”

The sound of Bryan’s voice pulled her out of the darkness. She swam upward, upward, following the sound of his voice. She squinted, shading her eyes against the morning light.

Bryan blew out a sigh. “I thought you were a goner.”

She stared at him a moment; then, realizing she was wearing nothing but her bra and panties, she drew the covers up to her chin. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. How are
you
feeling?”

“Okay.” She glanced beside her. “Where’s Dominic?”

Bryan shrugged. “How should I know?”

“He was here last night. He was badly hurt . . .” She looked up at Bryan, and then at the window. The curtains were open. “You don’t think . . . ?”

“Think what?”

“That he died? In the movies, when vampires are exposed to the sun, they burn up and . . . and just disappear.”

“Good riddance.”

“How can you say that? He saved your life!”

“Yeah, and I’m grateful, but dammit, he’s a monster. I hope he is dead. Hell, he’s already dead. They all are.”

Tracy glared at him, angered by his words. But worse than her anger was her concern for Dominic. Where was he? Had he managed to get to his lair below before it was too late?

Bryan shook his head in exasperation. “Stop worrying. He couldn’t have burned up or your bed would be a pile of ashes. And so would you.”

She considered that a moment, hoping he was right. “I’m going to get up now,” she said.

Bryan stared at her a moment, then a flush rose in his cheeks. “Oh, sure. I’ll see you downstairs.” He made a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him.

Rising, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She felt a little light-headed, a little unsteady on her feet, but, other than that, seemed to have no ill effects from last night.

She took a quick shower, then made her way downstairs.

She found Bryan sitting at the table in the kitchen, a cup of coffee clutched in his hands. He looked up as she entered the room. “There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”

“Thanks.” She poured herself a cup, then sat down across from him. “Do you have to work today?”

“Yeah. I start at one. Will you be all right?”

“I’m fine—don’t worry about me. Just remember, don’t stay out after dark.”

“That’s good advice for both of us,” he reminded her.

“Are you hungry?”

“I fixed myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich earlier—hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

Bryan drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. “So, what do you think happened to him last night?”

“Petrina and some of the other vampires attacked him. I’m not sure why. Revenge, I guess.”

“Well, I hope she’s dead.” Finishing his coffee, Bryan carried his cup to the sink and rinsed it out. “I need to go home and change. I’ll call you later, okay?”

Tracy nodded.

After Bryan left, she fixed herself a bowl of cereal and a slice of buttered toast, poured a second cup of coffee, and sat down at the table again. She ate as though she hadn’t eaten in days and when she was done, she was still hungry. She fixed another piece of toast and slathered it with jelly. And then, unable to stand it any longer, she went outside and followed the path to his lair.

She put her hand on the door. It was cold to her touch. “Dominic? Are you down there?”

 

 

Her voice penetrated the black sea of pain and lethargy that held him fast. He yearned to answer her, to give her the reassurance she craved, but he was too weak to reply, too weary in mind and body to summon the energy to unlock the door.

Last night, too weak to call on his preternatural powers, he had been forced to drag himself inch by agonizingly slow inch through the night. He could have taken refuge in an abandoned building that he passed, could have tried burrowing into the earth to avoid the rising sun, but he’d had only one thought in mind—to reach Tracy, to see her one last time before he succumbed to the pain of his burns and the weakness that grew worse with every passing moment.

With the heat of the rising sun searing his flesh, he had pulled himself up the stairs to her front porch. Feeling like a pilgrim who had finally reached Mecca, he collapsed against the door and with his last ounce of strength, he had spoken to her mind.

She had taken him to her bed, nourished him with her blood, and then fallen asleep. Knowing the sun would soon flood her room, he had made his way down to his lair and collapsed on the floor in front of the fireplace.