Immortal Sins (11 page)

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why were you so anxious for a reply if you’re not interested in talking to her?”

“I just wanted to know if Vilnius is still alive. I do not want him to know I am looking for him.”

“Then how are you going to find him?”

“How, indeed. I shall have to think on that for a while.” He watched her curiously for a few moments before asking, “What are you doing?”

“Backing my files up on my flash drive.”

“Backing up?”

“Saving the letters and pictures on my computer that I want to keep.” She shrugged. “I do it periodically anyway.” She had lost everything once—her personal photos, files, music, and graphics—when her hard drive crashed. Since then, she backed up her important files every night, and everything else at least once a week.

It seemed even more important now, she thought, just in case some malevolent witch decided to send a nasty virus her way. And as soon as she finished backing up her files, she was going to delete her old screen name and come up with a new one. Maybe she was overreacting, but what the heck, better safe now than sorry later.

Rourke watched her for a moment, fascinated by the workings of the computer. It was a kind of magic far beyond his comprehension, as was the automobile and the other equally amazing machines that Karinna took for granted. Of course, he had some incredible, seemingly magical powers of his own.

But computers and cars weren’t on the same level as the kind of magic Vilnius was capable of. They were just inventions made by ordinary men. Vilnius, on the other hand, was far from ordinary.

And he was still alive.

Rourke clenched his fists. Revenge, and his father’s sword, were within reach at last. But before he sought out Vilnius, he had to find Ana Luisa and free her, if necessary. He had no lasting love for the wizard’s daughter. She had been nothing but a passing fancy, a bit of sweetness he had been too hungry and too foolish to resist, but she was no more deserving of the punishment her father had inflicted on her than he himself had been.

Going to the window, he stared out into the darkness. He had a vast new world to explore city by city, country by country. A new beginning in what appeared to be an exciting new century. He glanced over his shoulder. A new woman. The thought of exploring Karinna Adams from north to south made him smile with anticipation. She looked to be a tasty morsel from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.

She would make a pleasant diversion while he searched for the wizard’s daughter. Now that he was freed, his conscience wouldn’t let him leave Ana Luisa trapped inside the painting. And after he had liberated the wizard’s daughter, he would avenge himself on Vilnius and recover his father’s sword.

A ripple in the fabric of time drew his gaze to the yard. There was a shimmer in the air and then he saw a woman standing on the grass, swathed in a long, dark traveling cloak.

He recognized her at once.

It was Melina, the vampire who had brought him across so many years ago.

Rourke glanced at Karinna again. Still engrossed in backing up her computer files, she seemed to have forgotten he was in the room. It was just as well.

A thought took him outside.

Melina turned gracefully to meet him, a smile of welcome curving her lips.

“Jason,” she murmured.

“Melina.”

“I thought you had been destroyed.”

“Not yet.”

Rourke’s gaze moved over her. Though he hadn’t seen her in centuries, Melina was as vibrant and beautiful as he remembered. She had come to him every year since the night she had brought him across until Vilnius had cursed him. No matter where Rourke had been, Melina had found him and they had spent a night together from dusk until dawn. They had hunted together, and later, while making love, she had tasted him, and he had tasted her. Only a small taste, since vampires did not feed off each other, but a taste was as good as a feast. Vampire blood produced a high like no other.

“I have not felt you in three hundred years, and now, suddenly, you are here.” She looked up at him through incredibly thick lashes, patiently waiting for an explanation.

“’Tis a long story.”

Moving like a wisp of silvered moonlight, she flowed toward him. “’Tis a long night,” she replied with a saucy grin.

“So it is.”

She pressed herself against him, her slender body molding itself to his. “I have missed you these many years. It saddened me to think that you had been destroyed, that I might never see you again.” She looked up at him, a faint smile teasing her lips, and he saw the gleam of her fangs. “We have many years to make up for. We can start tonight.”

Before he could reply, she rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him, long and hard.

“Have you missed me, Jason?” she purred. “Have you missed me as much as I have missed you?”

Rourke considered the truth, and opted for a lie. “Of course.” Saying the words, he realized it wasn’t a lie after all. He had missed her. She was a law unto herself, a truly unique creature, beautiful, selfish, totally without guilt or guile. She said what she wanted, did as she pleased, and the devil take the hindmost.

“So,” she said, linking her arm with his, “where have you been these past three hundred years?”

While they walked down the street, Rourke told her of Vilnius and his wicked curse and how, at long last, a mortal woman had freed him from his prison.

“Vilnius!” Melina spat the name from her mouth. “A vile man. But you are free now, and this is our night.”

Drawing him into the shadows, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again only to draw back, her brows rushing together in a frown when he didn’t return the kiss. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Rourke hesitated. There had been a time when he had looked forward to the one night each year that he spent with Melina. She had satisfied all his hungers, but now…Why did holding Melina suddenly seem wrong, as if he were betraying Karinna’s trust?

“Jason?”

He looked into Melina’s eyes, beautiful green eyes filled with desire, and thought of Karinna’s eyes, as blue and clear as the sky he had not seen in 736 years.

Slowly, he removed Melina’s arms from around his waist. “Yes, of course.”

“Come then, let us go.” She trailed her fingertips down his cheek. “Shall we hunt first or…”

He glanced down the street toward Karinna’s house. “Not tonight.”

“You are refusing me?” she asked in disbelief. “You
dare
to refuse me?” She followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing ominously. “Who is the woman? What has she done to you?”

Rourke shook his head. “She has done nothing but free me from that accursed painting.”

“You care for her.” It was not a question but a statement of fact.

“Of course I do. Did you not hear what I said? But for her, I would still be imprisoned.”

“I see.”

“I doubt it.”

Melina glanced down the street again, her expression filled with disdain. “It sounds to me as though you have exchanged one prison for another.”

“Maybe so,” Rourke allowed, thinking that his sweet Karinna was a far more pleasant jailer than Vilnius had ever been.

“I could compel you to do my bidding,” Melina warned. “I could bend your will to mine and make you fulfill my every wish.”

“You could try.”

“Impudent pup! Do you doubt my power?”

Rourke grinned at her. “Not for a minute.”

“Maybe next year you’ll be more willing.”

“Perhaps.”

It wasn’t the answer she wanted. Eyes narrowed, she glared at him.

Rourke waited, wondering if it might have been wiser to humor her for one night. Her anger was a palpable thing. He was the first fledgling Melina had made; as such, he had always held a special place in her heart. Or so she had said. True or not, it was never wise to offend a woman, especially a jealous woman with unlimited supernatural powers.

“Melina…”

“If you’ve changed your mind, I don’t want to know. And if you haven’t, I don’t want to know that, either,” she said imperiously, and with a wave of one delicate hand, she vanished from his sight.

Rourke swore softly. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

Kari stood at the window, wishing she knew who Rourke was talking to outside, wishing she could hear what was being said.

Thanks to a nearby streetlight and a full moon, she could see that his companion was a woman clad in a long black cloak. Her skin was almost luminous in the moonlight; her hair fell to her waist in shimmering red waves.

Curiosity turned to jealousy when the woman drew Rourke into his arms and kissed her.

Kari shook her head. She couldn’t be jealous. That was absurd. She hardly knew Jason Rourke. She had nothing to be jealous of. For all she knew, the woman could be his girlfriend.

Or his wife.

She was being ridiculous. He hadn’t said anything about having married again. Anyway, he had been trapped inside a painting for three hundred years. Even if he’d had a girlfriend or a wife or a daughter, any or all of them would be long dead by now.

Unless the woman was a vampire.

Now there was a scary thought! One vampire was bad enough. Two would be…impossible. Still, vampires were made, not born, so it stood to reason that there had to be at least one other.

The jealousy she refused to acknowledge ratcheted up a notch as Kari watched Jason and the woman walk down the street, arm in arm.

After dropping the curtain back into place, Kari went into the living room and sank down onto the sofa. She didn’t know why she was so surprised to see Jason with another woman. Vampire or not, he was gorgeous, though she couldn’t help wondering how and when he’d had time to get to know another woman.

Hot tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. She would not cry!

After what seemed like an eternity but was, in fact, only a few minutes later, she heard the front door open.

Kari stood and turned to face Rourke, her arms crossed under her breasts. “Who was that?”

He lifted one brow at the barely concealed jealousy he detected in her voice. “Her name is Melina.”

“Who is she?”

“She is the vampire who made me.”

Kari blinked at him. Even though the thought had crossed her mind, it was the last thing she had expected him to say. “What is she doing here?” Kari’s hand flew to her throat. “She’s not going to make me one, is she?”

Rourke laughed softly. “No, I will not let that happen.” His gaze moved to her throat. “If anyone brings you across, it will be me.” He lifted one hand as her face drained of color. “I would not turn you against your will.”

Mollified by his words, Kari dropped back down onto the sofa. “Why did she come here? What did she want?”

“She wanted me to spend the night with her. We have done so every year since she made me.”

“Every year?” Once a year didn’t sound like much until she realized he had been a vampire for 736 years. Of course, she supposed the last three centuries didn’t count.

Rourke nodded.

“So, why didn’t you go with her?” Kari asked, injecting what she hoped was a note of indifference into her voice.

His gaze moved over her from head to foot, his dark-eyed perusal like a physical caress. “Why, indeed.” He had always enjoyed the time he spent with Melina, but that was before Karinna had entered his life. When he was with Karinna, he felt alive, truly alive, in a way he had not felt since Melina brought him across so long ago.

Kari stared at him. There was no mistaking the hungry look in his eyes. But did she really want to compete with a vampire for this man?

Who was she kidding? She had been fascinated with him from the moment she first saw the painting in the art gallery. Fascination had become obsession, and obsession had become…what? Was it possible she had fallen in love with Jason Rourke? With a vampire?

She frowned as a horrible thought occurred to her. “Are you in love with that…with Melina?”

“No.”

“You’ve lived for hundreds of years. I can’t believe you’ve never been in love. I mean…why haven’t you?” she asked, and then bit down on her lower lip. Maybe vampires were incapable of love.

He pondered her question for several moments. He had no good answer to give her, at least none she was likely to condone, or perhaps even understand.

“I was born into a noble family, the second of five sons. My older brother, Joseph, became a priest. My brother Paul went off to fight in the Crusades with my father. Mathias was a physician, Joshua, a merchant. It fell to me to look after the family estate, though I had no desire to do so, and no desire to marry. I am ashamed to say that I was not a good husband. My wife and children deserved better than I gave them.” He paused a moment, his thoughts turned inward. “I have often wondered if becoming a vampire was some form of divine punishment. It was only after I had been turned that I realized what I had lost.”

He sighed with the memory. “My father was killed in the Crusades. Paul brought him home and gave me his sword, saying it was my father’s last wish that I should have it.

“I was one and thirty when Melina made me. For a time, I was able to hide what I had become but…” He shrugged. “As I said, as the years passed and I did not age, my family became suspicious of me. One night I took my father’s sword, kissed my sons good-bye, and left home, never to return.”

“That’s so sad.”

He shrugged. “It made me grow up. I wandered the world, never staying long in any one place. And then, one night, I met a woman in a tavern. She was young and innocent and all the more tempting because of it. She played the wanton, tempting me, teasing me, even though I knew she had never been with a man.”

He paused a moment, as though seeing it all again in his mind. “I knew it was wrong, but I was determined to have her. I took her virginity and her blood and spent three hundred years imprisoned in that accursed painting because of it.” Even now, he could remember the way Ana Luisa’s blood had burned his tongue. It was the taste of her blood that would lead him to her now. “You know the rest of the story.”

“It all sounds so far-fetched,” Kari remarked. “Vampires and wizards and evil curses. It’s hard to believe that any of it’s real.”

“Sometimes I have trouble believing it myself.”

“Did she know you were a vampire?”

“No.”

“How could you take her blood without her knowing, or at least suspecting?”

“I took but a little.”

“What did she say when you told her what you are?”

“I never told her.”

“So, she still doesn’t know?” Kari shook her head. “That’s hard to believe.”

Rourke shrugged.

“Do you think the wizard’s daughter is still alive?”

He nodded. “I know she is.” Closing his eyes, he blocked everything from his mind and then he conjured Ana Luisa’s image even as he drew upon the memory of the fiery taste of her life’s blood on his tongue. He murmured her name, felt his senses reach out across endless time and space, homing in on the unique scent of her blood, the slow, steady beat of her heart.

“Rourke…”

“Shh.” Concentrating harder now, his senses expanding, he continued to reach out, crossing land and water as he searched for that one scent, that one heartbeat.

It took several moments of intense concentration, and then, as if looking through the wrong end of a telescope, he saw Ana Luisa and the painting that imprisoned her. A unicorn with golden hooves and a golden horn stood in the midst of a field of flowers, its head raised to sniff the wind. Ana Luisa sat on its back, her long blond hair flowing down her back and over her shoulders. Clad in a long white gossamer gown, she gazed into the distance, her luminous green eyes filled with unspeakable sorrow. A single tear glistened like a drop of morning dew on one rosy cheek. He wondered if Vilnius had painted it there, or if it was one of Ana Luisa’s own tears, shed the night her father had found them.

Rourke quietly cursed the wizard’s cruelty. If he lived another seven hundred years, he would never understand how a man could condemn his own flesh and blood to such a horrid fate.

“Rourke? Rourke, are you all right?”

He shook his head. He would never be all right until Ana Luisa had been freed from her prison of glass and canvas. She was so young, far younger than she had professed to be when he seduced her. Had he known she was little more than a child, he never would have touched her. But she had professed to be older and acted far more worldly wise than her years.

“I need to make a journey,” he said. “And I need you to come with me.”

“A journey?” Kari asked doubtfully. “Where do you want to go? And why do you need me?”

“I need to find Ana Luisa,” Rourke said. “And I need you to help me find my way around. There is still much here I am not familiar with.”

“But I can’t just take off. I have a job, you know.” She frowned. “How do you know where she is, anyway?”

“She is in Romania.”

“Romania? As in Transylvania? Are you kidding me? I can’t go running off to Romania.”

“Karinna, I cannot do this without you.” Had he been stronger, he could have flown there under his own power, but he needed time to regain his full strength, he needed added sustenance to restore his preternatural powers. In his present condition, he could never make such a long journey, let alone bring Ana Luisa back with him. He could wait until his strength and his powers were fully restored, but that might take weeks. Some might say he was being too impulsive. After all, what was another few weeks after so many centuries? But anyone who suggested such a thing had never been confined in a stagnant world of paint and canvas.