A Whisper Of Eternity (21 page)

Now, utterly exhausted, helpless as a newborn babe, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the dark peace of oblivion.

 

 

She stood there for several minutes, hoping to hear his voice, hoping the door would open, but nothing happened. For a second there, she had imagined she felt something, but then it was gone.

Discouraged and afraid, she went back to the house.

Needing something to occupy her time, she went up to her studio to work on another seascape for Mr. Petersen.

And all the while she wondered where Dominic had gone and if he was all right.

She worked relentlessly. She finished one painting and started a second. Her seascapes were usually light and bright, mild waves beneath bright blue skies, sometimes with dolphins or killer whales cavorting in the background. Today, her oceans were dark, filled with storm-tossed whitecaps and leaden skies ripped apart by jagged bolts of lightning.

Standing back to study her work, Tracy realized she was somehow tuned in to Dominic’s pain, that she was painting what he was feeling. She had never realized that vampires could feel pain. Being undead, she had assumed they were immune to pain, and even as the thought crossed her mind, she realized that made no sense at all. If he could feel pleasure, it stood to reason he could also feel pain.

Closing her eyes, she focused all her energy and concentration on Dominic. She pictured him lying in his satin-lined casket, his eyes closed. Did he find relief from his pain while he slept the Dark Sleep?

Dominic, I’m here
.
Ready to do whatever I can, whatever you need.

There was no answer. She tried again, and again, and each passing second of silence only served to increase her sense of helplessness, her growing fear that he could no longer respond. That he was . . . She couldn’t say the word.

And then, when she had given up hope, his voice whispered in her mind.

Filled with excitement and anticipation, she put the finishing touches to her second painting, cleaned her brushes, and tidied up the studio.

Removing her smock, she hung it up, then left the room. She had just enough time to take a quick shower and grab a bite to eat before sunset.

Bryan sat on the bench of Tower Ten, his gaze sweeping the ocean, the beach. The water, a deep blue-green, was calm, so calm even the diehard surfers had abandoned their boards in favor of a rousing game of volleyball. The rest of the beach was nearly deserted since most of the summer people had closed up their houses and gone back to the city. Only a dozen or so people lived here year-round.

Soon this job would be over until next summer and he’d be back at the Y, teaching kids how to swim in the big indoor pool on weekends and giving classes in self-defense to rich young women during the week. He hoped there would be some interest in his tai chi class.

Turning his head, he glanced up at the bluff, his thoughts naturally turning toward Tracy. He wondered what she was doing and what the devil she saw in that vampire creep. Sure, the guy was good-looking and he drove a great car and seemed to have a lot of money, but he was dead, for crying out loud!

Frowning, Bryan recalled that Petrina had put some sort of spell on him there in the vampire bar. Had Dominic put some sort of hex on Tracy? Was that why she was so crazy about the guy, because he’d hypnotized her or something like that? The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. No woman in her right mind would be so enamored of a ghoul if he hadn’t worked some kind of witchcraft on her.

How to break the devil’s enchantment, that was the question. And he was afraid the only answer was to destroy the vampire. He grunted softly. How best to accomplish the deed? A wooden stake through the heart seemed to be the method preferred by Hollywood. He grunted softly. Well, he had a stake. All he needed now was a good, strong hammer. And, just to be on the safe side, maybe he’d better take along an axe to cut off the head.

But first, he had to find out where the bloodsucker slept during the day.

Tracy’s excitement slowly turned to trepidation as she dressed to go to Dominic’s side. She loved him. She wanted to be with him, to comfort him. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to be dinner.

Shaking such thoughts from her mind, she opened her dresser drawer. She glanced over the contents and grabbed a dark green turtleneck sweater she rarely wore. After pulling it over her head, she ran a brush through her hair, and slipped into a pair of sandals. A quick look in the mirror showed that her eyes were fever-bright.

She was about to leave the house when the phone rang. She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey, Tracy.”

“Hi, Bry, I was just on my way out.”

“Oh? Want some company?”

“Not tonight.”

“You’re going to see him, aren’t you?”

She wound the cord around her finger. “He needs me.”

“Uh-huh. Where does he stay, anyway?”

“I . . . he . . . I don’t know.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

Before she could form an answer, he’d hung up on her.

She stared at the phone in her hand, then gently put it back on the kitchen counter and went out the back door.

Outside, she walked slowly down the path that led to the house below. “Dominic?”

She took a deep breath as the door swung open. There was no turning back now.

She found Dominic sitting in the chair in front of a roaring fire. He wore a black velvet robe over a pair of black sweatpants. She couldn’t help thinking that it was a very sexy outfit.

“Hi,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that you are here.”

She knelt beside his chair, her gaze running over him. The burns on his face and hands looked red and ugly. And painful. Still, he looked much better than he had last night, though he still looked a trifle pale, even for a vampire.

She looked up to find him watching her intently.

As though it were a great effort, he lifted his hand and ran his fingers over the edge of her turtleneck. “Is this to keep me out?”

Tracy stared at him. Was that why she had chosen this particular sweater? Had she subconsciously seen it as some sort of barrier?

She read the yearning in his eyes, knew the decision was wholly hers.

“Relax, my best beloved one. I will not force you. I will not even ask.” Placing his hands on the arms of the chair, he levered up to his feet.

Tracy stood. “Where are you going?”

It was a foolish question, one he did not bother to answer.

She bit down on the corner of her lower lip. If she wouldn’t oblige him, then he would find someone who would. “Should you go out? I mean . . . is it safe?”

“I have no choice.”

“Can’t you wait until you’re stronger?”

“I will not get stronger unless I feed.”

“But . . .”

“Tracy,
mi mejor querida,
if we are to have any life together, you must accept me for what I am. You need not join me if you cannot, but I cannot change what I am, nor would I.”

“I don’t want you to go out. Not tonight. Not until you’re stronger.”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “Are you saying what I think you are?”

In lieu of an answer, she drew the neck of her sweater down, then turned her head away, giving him access to her throat.

Taking her by the hand, Dominic led her to the sofa. Sitting, he drew her down beside him and slipped his arm around her shoulders.

“Relax,
querida
. You know I will not hurt you.” He placed a finger over her lips. “Do not worry, I will take only a little.”

She turned to face him again. “Will a little make you stronger? As strong as you were?”

“No, but it will ease the pain.”

“I never knew vampires could feel pain.”

“Vampire senses are more intense than those of mortals. We feel everything more keenly. Pleasure. And pain.”

“Take what you need, Dominic.”

“Tracy, I do not want to force you.”

“You’re not.” Leaning toward him, she turned her head to the side and gazed at the fire in the hearth. “I want to do this for you.”

Murmuring to her in a language that sounded familiar even though she did not understand the words, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She felt his lips against her throat as he kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear, felt the heat of his breath as his mouth trailed moist kisses down her neck. Her heart was beating wildly when she felt his fangs at her throat.

She could not believe she was doing this. Never, in any other life, had she permitted him to take her blood. Floating on a sensual sea, she wondered what was different now. Why was she letting him do this when she never had before?

Her skin grew warm and she closed her eyes, surrendering to the pleasure that flooded through her. No wonder Dracula had been able to seduce so many women. How could anyone resist his Dark Kiss? She was boneless, weightless, floating in a sea of molten crimson, sinking blissfully deeper and deeper into velvet darkness....

With a wordless cry, Dominic jerked his head back, his gaze moving anxiously over Tracy’s face. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and he swore under his breath. By the fates, had he taken too much?

He whispered her name, his heart pounding with fear. He should have stopped long ago, but her life’s blood tasted like the sweetest nectar, her life-force so potent, he could feel his wounds healing, feel his strength returning. Each time he had been about to draw away, he promised himself that he would take only a little more . . . and a little more....

He stared down at her, hating himself for his weakness. He knew she would hate him if he had to bring her across. But he could not let her die. Not this time. Not when she had accepted him for who and what he was, not when she was so close to accepting the Dark Gift that he had offered and she had rejected so many times in the past.

“Tracy!”

She stirred in his arms. Her eyelids fluttered open. For an endless moment, she stared up at him without recognition.

“
Querida?
” He shook her gently, frightened by the blank look in her eyes. “Speak to me.”

She blinked at him. Took a deep breath. And then smiled. “Dominic.”

Her voice, though weak, was the most welcome sound he had ever heard.

With a glad cry, he gathered her into his arms and held her close, felt tears sting his eyes as he stroked her back, her hair. Weeping softly, he offered a prayer of thanksgiving even though he had lost the right to pray long ago.

“Dominic? Why are you crying?”

“I feared I had taken too much. I thought I had lost you again.” He drew back, his gaze searching her face. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy.” She frowned as she lifted one hand to stroke his cheek. “The burns . . . they’re almost gone. How is that possible?”

He covered her hand with his and held it to his cheek. “Because of you,” he said. “Because of your sweetness, your generosity.”

And he had very nearly killed her because of it.

He felt a rush of panic as her eyelids fluttered down and her head lolled forward against his chest.

Holding her in his arms, Dominic gained his feet and followed the passage that led outside, then took the path to her house. She needed nourishment, and she needed it now.

 

 

Leaning forward, Bryan adjusted his binoculars. Was he seeing things, or was that Dominic carrying Tracy out of the bushes and up the path toward the back door? His heart skipped a beat as the image through the glass grew closer. Damn, it looked like she was dead.

Had the vampire killed her? Damn bloodsucking fiend!

Or, worse yet, brought her across?

And what had they been doing in the bushes in Tracy’s backyard?

He stayed where he was, unmoving, until the back door closed.

And then he left his hiding place and made his way toward the side gate. It opened on well-oiled hinges and he slipped inside, his black clothing making him practically invisible in the darkness as he crept soundlessly across the yard.

 

 

Dominic moved unerringly through the dark house. Making his way into the living room, he laid Tracy down on the sofa and covered her with the afghan that was folded over the back of the couch.

Going into the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator. He stared at the contents for a moment, amazed anew at the wonders of modern technology. The refrigerator itself was a miracle. Did the people of today have any idea how easy their lives were? In his day, meat did not come in neat little packages, milk did not come in cartons, there were no such things as potato chips or donuts or soda or any of the other sweets that he had tasted on Tracy’s lips from time to time. If a man wanted meat, he hunted for it. If he wanted vegetables or fruit, he tilled the ground, planted seeds, and prayed for a good harvest. Clothing did not come ready-made. There were no toothbrushes, no toothpaste, no such things as flush toilets and indoor plumbing.

He pulled out a carton of orange juice and filled a tall glass, and then filled a second glass with water. Hot and cold running water was another modern luxury. In his day, the only running water was in the river.

Going back to the refrigerator, he pulled out a steak. Never, in all his life, had he cooked on a stove but he had watched Tracy. He unwrapped the steak and dropped it in a skillet, placed it on the stove, and turned on the burner. He added salt and pepper, turned it while it was still red in the middle.

When both sides were browned, he put the steak on a plate, plucked a knife and a fork from a drawer, and carried everything into the living room.

Placing the plate and glasses on the end table, he knelt beside the sofa and kissed her cheek. “Wake up, my best beloved one.”

She made a sleepy sound as she opened her eyes.

He smiled at her. “Sit up,
querida
. You must eat.”

“I’m not hungry.” She frowned. “Why is it so dark in here?”

With a negligent wave of his hand, the lights came on. “You must eat,” he repeated, and his voice brooked no argument this time.

Helping her sit up, he cut the steak into bite size pieces and offered her one.

She grimaced. “Did you even cook that? It’s practically raw inside.”

“It will do you good.”

“But I don’t like it that rare.”

His gaze met and held hers. “Tracy. You will eat it. All of it. And enjoy it. Here now, take a bite.”

She opened her mouth and took a bite. She drank the orange juice. She drank the water. She ate all the steak.

“Sleep now, my best beloved one.”

“Stay with me?”

He brushed a lock of hair from her brow. “So long as I draw breath.”

With a sigh, she clasped his hand in hers and closed her eyes.

And slept.

Dominic stretched out beside her, his hand still in hers. Now that he had fed well, the only thing he needed to regain his strength was rest and he could think of nothing better than sleeping beside his best beloved one until it was time for him to return to his own lodgings.

For a few moments, he knew nothing but utter peace. His wounds were almost healed. Tracy was beside him.

And then he felt it, a sharp jolt of awareness that told him someone had invaded his lair.

A thought took him to the door that led to the house below. He sniffed the air, swore a vile oath as the boy’s scent filled his nostrils.

He swore again, cursing his own negligence in not securing the door to his lair behind him, and then he grinned as he imagined Longstreet’s horror when he discovered that he was no longer alone.

 

 

Bryan moved stealthily down the passageway, a flashlight illuminating the way ahead of him. Every instinct he possessed screamed at him to turn around and get the hell out of there but he kept going forward, one slow step at a time. This was the vampire’s resting place, he was sure of it. He needed to get the lay of the land so he could find his way when he returned in the daylight with stake and mallet in hand, and there was no better time to scout around than now, when the vampire was away.

He was in the living quarters now. He glanced around quickly, then went through the door, felt his heart skip a beat when he saw the casket in the center of the room. Even though he’d known Dominic was a vampire, seeing the coffin made it all the more real. All the more frightening.

He looked around, noting there was only one way in, and one way out. And he was suddenly anxious to be out. Who knew how long the vampire would stay up at the house, or what he had done to Tracy?

His hand tightened around the flashlight. By damn, if that bloodsucker had hurt her . . .

The thought died, unfinished, as all the candles in the room sprang to life.