A Whisper Of Eternity (27 page)

Nor could he leave her here.

Gathering her into his arms, he willed them across the country to his house on the coast of Maine. He placed her on the sofa, then went upstairs to the master bedroom and opened the door that led into a hidden room behind the fireplace.

Knowing it would frighten her to wake in a casket, he took the mattress and bedding from the bed and carried it into his lair. He turned on the light so she would not awake in darkness, and then he went downstairs for Tracy.

He put her to bed, fully clothed, removed her shoes, covered her with the blankets, and then went through the house, securing it against intruders.

He stayed by her side, watching her throughout the night, and when he sensed the dawn’s approach, he took off his shirt and boots and then, stretching out on the mattress beside the woman he loved, he gathered her into his arms.

For the first time in his life, he would pass the daylight hours lying beside the woman he loved.

For the first time in his life, he would awake from the Dark Sleep with her beside him.

Kitana slipped her arm around Bryan’s shoulders, felt him stiffen in response to her touch. “Are you still angry with me,
mon amour?
”

He lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “What difference does it make? It’s done now, and it can’t be undone.”

“Ah, my sweet, do not be sad or angry.” She made a broad gesture with her hand. “The world awaits us. You have only to tell me where you wish to go.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

He grunted softly. “I always wanted to go surfing in Australia.”

“We can leave tomorrow, if you like.”

“Yeah, and I can ride the waves at midnight.” He turned to face her. “You’ve taken the sun away from me.”

She ran her finger over his cheek. “Have I given you nothing in return?”

“A lust for blood?” He stared into the ashes of the fire. “I know too well the addict’s curse—undying, infernal, unholy thirst. Swear to dawn, ‘Never again!’ yet come the night, another sin. Once so proud, now Hunger’s Whore, hunting, seeking, drinking more . . .”

She laughed softly, a rich, deep sound that had the unexpected power to arouse him. “I’ve made a poet of you.”

He grimaced.

“Complain all you want,
mon amour
, but you can’t fool me. You may miss the sunlight, but you revel in the power that is now yours.”

He stared into her eyes. Once, those eyes had filled him with dread, but no more. She had said she loved him. Perhaps she did. He had tried to resist her, tried to hate her, but it was impossible. When they were alone together, she was the most enchanting creature he had ever known. She was warm and playful and, as Dominic had said, the most incredible lover a man could wish for.

He was about to tell her he wasn’t angry anymore when she went suddenly still.

“What is it?” he asked.

“He’s done it at last.”

Bryan frowned at her, wondering what she was talking about, and then swore under his breath. “No.”

“Yes. After all these centuries, Dominic has made a fledgling of his own.”

She woke slowly, eager to leave the dark dreams that had plagued her through the night. Eyes still closed, she stretched. And frowned when her hand encountered someone in the bed beside her.

Fully awake now, she turned to find Dominic lying beside her, his gaze intent upon her face.

“Dominic, what are you doing in my . . .” She paused when she realized she wasn’t in her bedroom, or in any other room of her house. “Where are we?”

“How do you feel, my best beloved one?”

“I feel fine. Where are we?”

“At my house in Maine.”

“What are we doing here?” She frowned as she gazed around the room. The colors in the wallpaper seemed to vibrate with life. She could hear the rustle of the leaves from outside. Though there were no windows in the room, she knew that night had fallen.

She looked at Dominic again. “What happened?” she asked, and then her eyes widened as memory returned. “Petrina!” Her hand flew to her throat. “She bit me. She drank from me . . .”

She stared into Dominic’s eyes, searching for answers and yet afraid of what she might see. “You didn’t!” She recoiled in horror. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“
Querida
. . .”

“How could you do such a thing?” She was on her feet almost before she realized she wanted to rise. “You knew how I felt!”

Dominic sat up. The blankets pooled in his lap.

Tracy stared at him. He looked the same as always, yet different somehow. Even as angry as she was, she couldn’t help admiring the width of his shoulders, his broad chest, the latent strength in his well-muscled arms, or the narrow line of black hair that started at his waist and disappeared beneath the blankets. She had a sudden, inexplicable urge to find her paints and draw him as he looked now. She would call it
Vampire at Dusk....

She looked up at his face again. He was still watching her, his expression guarded.

She held out her hands, turning them this way and that, wiggling her fingers as if she had never seen them before.

She was a vampire. She said the words in her mind, trying to determine what she was feeling. Every sense she owned was alert and alive.

“I’m a vampire.” She said the words aloud, surprised to find that the idea was not as shocking or abhorrent as she had expected.

Dominic rose and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

She hesitated a moment and then put her hand in his. Wordlessly, he led her outside and into the gardens.

He made a gesture that encompassed the yard. “It is beautiful, yes?”

Slowly, she perused the grounds. Though it was dark, she could see colors as clearly as if it were midday. The bright pinks and reds and yellows of the roses were vibrant and alive in a way she had never seen before. She could see every thorn, the delicate veins in each leaf, in stark detail. The lawn was a deep emerald green. Each blade of grass was clearly defined.

And sounds. She heard the soft sighing of the wind though it was not strong enough to stir the leaves of the trees, the faint croaking of a frog, the flutter of a moth’s wings, the shifting of a bird in its nest overhead.

She ran her hand over the back of one of the stone benches, her fingers suddenly sensitive to each tiny groove.

She twirled around. She felt better than she had ever felt in her life, knew that she could run or swim for miles and never tire. Knew if she but willed herself to do so, she could fly over the high wall that surrounded the estate.

Bemused, she stopped twirling to look at Dominic and found him watching her, his expression that of a proud father watching a child take its first steps. And that was what she was doing, she mused, taking her first steps toward a new life.

He was waiting, she realized, waiting for her reaction to her changed condition, waiting to see if she would forgive him for what he had done, or curse him and flee his presence.

Head tilted to one side, she regarded her husband as though seeing him for the first time. With her vampire sight, he was more handsome than ever. His black hair gleamed like polished ebony. His eyes, as gray as storm clouds, were filled with apprehension.

She loved him too much to let him go on suffering, wondering if she hated him for what he had done.

But how could she hate him? She had vowed to love him until death parted them. In mortal time, that might have meant twenty or thirty years, perhaps forty, if they were lucky. But now . . .

A slow smile spread over her face. Deep down, in spite of everything she had said to the contrary, hadn’t she always wanted to be what he was? To live forever? It was only her own cowardice, her fear of the unknown, that had kept her from making the decision. Subconsciously, hadn’t she always hoped that Dominic would make the decision for her?

“
Querida
.” He took a hesitant step toward her.

“I’m a vampire,” she said again.

He nodded, his expression uncertain.

She closed the distance between them and placed her hands on his chest, loving the feel of his skin beneath her palms, the way the hair on his chest coiled around her fingers, the way he quivered at her touch.

She tilted her head back to better see his face. “We’re alike now, you and I.”

He said nothing, only watched her, his expression wary, as she ran her hands over the width of his shoulders.

Tracy laughed softly. “Are
you
afraid of
me
now?”

He nodded again. “More than you can imagine.”

His answer surprised her. “What are you afraid of?”

“I am afraid of your hatred.”

“Hate you?” She raked her nails lightly over his bare chest, slowly moving down, down, running her hands sensuously over his flat belly and up to his chest again.

He shuddered at her touch, but made no move to touch her in return.

“I could never hate you, Dominic.”

“You forgive me then?”

Rising on tiptoe, she kissed him, first one cheek and then the other. “I feel as though I’ve been dreaming my whole life, waiting for you to wake me up, and now it’s happened.” Her gaze searched his face. “Am I dreaming again?”

He drew her into his arms then, one hand caressing her cheek as he molded her body to his. She had ever been beautiful to him but never more so than now, with her eyes shining with love and acceptance.

“No, my best beloved one,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire, “you are not dreaming. Tonight, our real life together begins.”

Tracy stirred with the setting of the sun, stretched, then turned on her side to gaze down at Dominic. His eyes were closed but she knew he was awake, awaiting her kiss. She never tired of looking at him, touching him. She loved the shape of his brows, the curve of his lips, the silky texture of his hair, his high cheekbones and fine, square chin. She blew a strand of hair from his brow, licked the hollow of his throat.

And still he did not move.

Smiling faintly, she leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. His response was immediate. He lifted her onto his chest and they spent several moments kissing and caressing.

Six months had passed since Dominic had brought her across. Six months, and she had no regrets. There had been adjustments to make, of course, but they had come about gradually. She had completed her order for Mr. Petersen, painted his family’s portrait—at night, of course—and closed her studio. She hadn’t given up painting, but now she painted mainly for her own pleasure, though she occasionally sold a painting to one of their friends, and had a few pieces on consignment at the local art gallery. Nightingale House was filled with her art.

Sea Cliff was again a quiet haven for vampires, a small town that attracted a good number of tourists in the summer but gained few permanent new residents.

She and Bryan remained good friends, often laughing about how strangely their lives had turned out. Tracy continued to be amazed that, in many ways, vampires lived ordinary lives. She and Dominic often went dancing or to the movies with Bryan and Kitana. Marcus had brought his human companion, Gina, across and she and Tracy became close friends, often going shopping together. At night, of course.

When Gina and Marcus were married, Tracy and Dominic stood up with them.

The wedding made such an impression on Kitana that she decided to marry Bryan. It was a wedding unlike any Tracy had ever seen. The bride and groom, the wedding party, and all the guests wore black. The bride carried a bouquet of blood-red roses; the bride and groom toasted each other with red wine.

Tracy moaned softly as Dominic nibbled on her neck. She had given up much, she thought, as her fingertips caressed his broad back, but she had gained so much more.

Dominic. A man unlike any other. One who had vowed to love her forever, and given her forever in return.

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Copyright © 2004 by Amanda Ashley

ISBN: 978-0-8217-7529-5

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