Shades of Gray (36 page)

Breathless, she collapsed on top of him. He murmured her name, his hands stroking her back. She felt his tongue whisper down the side of her neck and only then remembered that he had bitten her.

"Does it bother you?" he asked.

"Reading my mind again?" she asked, her tone mildly accusing.

"It is difficult not to, especially now." His arms tightened around her.

"Well, it's not fair. I should be able to read yours, too."

"You can, if you wish."

"Really?" She propped herself up on her elbows. "How?"

"I have given you my blood. You need only concentrate."

She couldn't help it. Remembering that he had given her his blood, that she had drunk it, even if she couldn't remember, made her shudder with revulsion.

He didn't move, but she felt him withdraw from her.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't say anything, only gazed up at her, his expression impassive.

"Alexi told me he could taste you on his tongue."

"It was necessary."

She glanced at his throat, wondering what his blood had tasted like. "Can I really read your mind?"

"Try."

Brow furrowed in concentration, she stared at him, then shook her head. "It isn't working."

"Don't try so hard. Just relax, let your thoughts touch mine."

It wasn't like before, when he had planted his thoughts in her mind. She tried to connect her thoughts to his, and failed. And then, as if he had opened a door, she heard his voice inside her head.

"You can do it,
cara," he said, and his thoughts blazed a trail for her to follow.

"What am I thinking,
cara mia?"

"That we should go to Italy again."

He smiled. "You see? You can do it."

"And all because you gave me a little of your blood." She traced the line of his mouth with her fingertip. "Didn't the idea of drinking blood repulse you when you first became a vampire?"

"No. Once the change took place, I craved it as a drunkard craves wine. It was sweet on my tongue, sweeter than anything I had ever tasted."

In the beginning, when the Hunger controlled him, when he feared he would never get enough to satisfy the craving, he had taken more than he needed, and in so doing, had taken lives as well. Eventually, he had learned to take less and thus spare the lives of those he used. The lives of those he had needlessly killed haunted him still.

"Cara…"

"Am I heavy?"

"No." He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. He could feel the darkness creeping over him, dragging him toward oblivion. "I fear I must rest a little longer."

"All right." She kissed him, then slid out of bed. Gathering her clothes, she went into the bathroom and shut the door.

When she emerged, showered and dressed twenty minutes later, he was asleep.

She spent the afternoon at the mall. It was fun to wander from shop to shop, knowing she didn't have to check the price tags, that she could buy whatever caught her fancy. She bought two lamps and a painting for the living room, a new dress for herself, a black jacket for Grigori, a couple of compact discs for Mike Junior, a
Gone With the Wind
Barbie for Nikki, a baby doll for Mindy, a teddy bear for Danny. She bought a blue negligee for Barbara, and a black one for herself, picked up a sweater for Mike. She bought a couple of John Wayne videos for her father, a new bathrobe for her mother.

"Christmas in January," she mused as she stowed her packages in the trunk of the Corvette. "I could get used to this."

It was rather nice to be a lady of leisure, to sleep late, to make love to her husband in the afternoon.

Her husband, the vampire. The thought made her grin. She imagined going to lunch with Linda and casually dropping that bit of news into the conversation.

Sliding behind the wheel, she switched on the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, wondering if Linda would believe her, or think she had gone completely insane. The latter, most likely. Still, there were people who believed in vampires. There were fan magazines and web sites, all dedicated to the undead. People showed up on talk shows, claiming to be vampires. She had always thought they were just a bunch of bizarre people looking for their fifteen minutes of fame, but now… maybe they really were vampires. Maybe the world was full of the undead. And if vampires existed, maybe there really were aliens and werewolves. Maybe all the creatures of myth and legend actually existed.

It was almost five when she pulled into the driveway of the house. Collecting her packages from the trunk, she paused a moment and studied the house, noticing, for the first time, that it looked a lot like the gloomy old houses Dracula haunted in the movies. Perhaps a paint job would brighten the place up, make it look less like a haunted house and more like a home. She stared at the peeling green paint, trying to imagine what the house would look like painted Dutch blue with white trim. The front yard was overgrown with weeds. Maybe tomorrow she'd buy some gardening tools and get to work. Or maybe she'd just hire someone to do it for her. Going up the front walk, she thought that she'd like to plant roses in the front yard, and maybe put some fruit trees out back.

Filled with plans for redecorating, she walked up the porch steps. She slid the key in the lock, but before she turned it, the door whooshed open.

She stood poised on the threshold, wondering if she should go inside, or turn and run. "Grigori?"

She took a step inside, ears straining. "Grigori?"

She heard nothing, sensed nothing. Surely if Alexi was here, she would know it.

Moving quietly, she put her shopping bags on the floor and tiptoed through the downstairs, turning lights on as she went.

Nothing.

For a moment, she stood at the bottom of the staircase, one hand on the banister, and then she started up the steps.

"Grigori?"

She paused outside their bedroom, her hand on the latch. She knew,
knew,
something was wrong.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The heavy drapes at the window shut out the light, so that the room was nearly dark. As soon as she stepped inside the doorway, the overhead light went on.

Tension went out of her in a whoosh as Edward stepped in front of her.

"Edward! You scared me out of a year's growth. What are you doing here? Edward?"

The relief she had first felt at seeing him quickly turned to alarm as he stepped behind her and closed the door. "Edward?"

"Go sit down, Marisa."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, and everything."

"You're not making sense."

"You'll understand soon enough." He gave her a little push and she stumbled forward.

It was then that she saw Grigori. He lay still as death on the bed, bound by a heavy silver chain … a chain that looked very much like the one that had once bound Alexi.

"What have you done to him?"

Edward pulled a syringe out of his coat pocket. "I put him to sleep, and then I bled him." He nodded at the basin on the table beside her chair. It was a large bowl, and it was filled with blood. Grigori's blood. Enough to weaken him. Enough to…

"He's not… not dead?"

"Not yet."

"Edward, please — "

He pushed her toward the chair in the corner. "Sit down, Marisa. Alexi will be here soon."

"Alexi! He's coming here?"

Edward nodded, his expression unutterably sad. "I'm sorry, Marisa."

She sat down heavily. "Why are you doing this?"

"I have no choice."

"What do you mean? Of course you do…." The words died in her throat. "He's done something to you, hasn't he? Oh, Lord, you're like Antoinette."

"No. She had no mind of her own. Alexi has left me my mind, Marisa, but he has robbed me of my will." His voice was raw with torment. "This is worse. I know what I'm doing, and even though I don't want to, I can't refuse."

"Fight him, Edward! You've got to fight him."

"I can't." He began to pace the floor. "He's too strong." He stopped in front of her, his eyes wild, his hands clenching and unclenching. "He took my blood, made me take his. I can hear his thoughts in my mind. I can't shut them out!" He placed his hands over his ears and shook his head. "I can't shut him out!"

"He's going to kill us, isn't he?"

"He's going to kill Grigori. I'm afraid he has worse things in mind for you." Edward dropped to his knees in front of Marisa. "I'm sorry." He pulled a short piece of rope out of his coat pocket. "So sorry."

Instinct overcame fear. With a cry, she jerked her knee up. It caught him under the jaw. His head snapped backward and she kicked him in the chest with all her might. The air whooshed out of his lungs as he fell to the floor.

Jumping to her feet, she ran for the door. She screamed as she felt his hand close over her arm.

"Let me go!" she shrieked. "Let me go!"

She struggled against him, but he was too strong for her. Twisting her arm behind her back, he quickly tied her wrists together, then guided her back to the chair and pushed her into it.

"Marisa, I'm sorry."

She was shaking now, frightened beyond words. Alexi was coming. She felt a ripple in the air, a stirring against her skin, and knew that Grigori was emerging from the dark sleep.

Edward felt it, too. Reaching under his coat, he withdrew a sharpened stake.

"Edward, don't!"

"I won't. Not unless I have to." He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Alexi wants that pleasure for himself."

"Edward, please, please don't do this. Please. I'd rather be dead than become his creature."

"Marisa." A groan rose in Edward's throat. She saw him struggle against Alexi's hold on his mind, saw the torment in his eyes.

"Please, Edward. He'll make me like Antoinette."

He looked up at her, helpless, every muscle in his body taut. Pain flickered in his eyes, and she knew that Alexi was reading Edward's mind, knew the vampire was exerting his influence.

"I… I can't fight him," he said, panting heavily. "He's too strong."

Moving stiffly, he stood up and backed away from her. "I can't help you." Pain twisted his features and he bent at the waist, clutching his stomach. "Stop," he begged. "Please stop."

She watched him writhe in agony. What was Alexi doing to him? Fighting the urge to scream, to give in to the panic surging through her, she began to work her hands back and forth in an effort to loosen the rope.

Marisa…

Her head jerked up at the sound of Grigori's voice. She glanced at the bed. His eyes were closed. As far as she could tell, he hadn't moved.

Are you hurt?

No. Are you all right?

Weak… Alexi is coming… You must be strong.

Are you in pain?

The silver… it burns… makes me weak…

What can I do?

Don't fight Alexi.

Are you crazy?

You are the one who is crazy, if you think you can defeat him. You are only a mortal, and a woman, at that. If you fight him, it will only be so much the worse for you.

So you fust want me to submit? To let him kill
you and then turn me into some kind of zombie? I don't think so!

The very idea made her mad enough to spit. She was outraged that Grigori would even suggest they just give up without a fight. Adrenaline flowed through her as she tugged against the rope, and then, to her surprise, she felt the knots give, felt the rope loosen, just a little. The next thing she knew, one hand slipped free.

She glanced at Grigori again. He still hadn't moved, but she could feel him smiling in her mind.

Think you're pretty smart, don't you, she thought, getting me all riled up like that?

Your hands are free, aren't they?

Marisa swallowed a grin. He knew her much too well.

A sudden heaviness seemed to pulse through the air and she knew, with a sinking feeling of dread, that Alexi had arrived. The thought no sooner crossed her mind than he was there, in the room. Darkness seemed to trail in his wake, like a miasma of evil.

"So," Alexi said. "We are all together at last."

Marisa fought the urge to cringe in her chair. Clenching her fists, she stared at him, willing herself to be strong. Grigori's life depended on her now. Edward would be no help. Even now, he was kneeling in front of Alexi, accepting his master's terse words of praise for a job well done.

"Edward, it is time I made the woman mine. You will leave the room. Wait for me in the hallway." Alexi sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling as the smell of cold blood reached his nostrils. He jerked his chin toward the bowl. "Get rid of that."

"Yes, master."

Slowly, Edward rose to his feet. Moving like a robot, he picked up the bowl and started toward the door.

"Edward," Marisa cried, "don't leave me! Please, help me!"

"I can't." He tried to turn to face her, his whole being longing to help her, to strike Alexi down, but the vampire's power was too strong to resist. He told himself to stop, to turn, but his body refused to obey. One step after another, he moved toward the door.

"Edward!" The fear and anguish in her voice stabbed him to the heart. But there was nothing he could do. Nothing…

Ramsey! I've taken your blood, made you a part of me. Listen to my voice. Draw on my strength. You can fight him. Think! Combine your will with mine. Together we can defeat him.

I can't.
Edward stared into the bowl, at the blood that was so dark it was almost black.

You can! Marisa needs help, help I can't give her. Damn you! Fight!

Cradling the bowl in one arm, Edward opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He heard Marisa's shriek of terror as he closed the door behind him.

Alexi leered at Marisa as he jerked her to her feet. Locking one arm around her waist, he caught her chin in his hand and kissed her, his tongue plunging into her mouth, choking her.

She struggled against him, the taste of him making her gag. There was a darkness in his kiss that seemed to smother all the light in her soul. She kicked him, but he only laughed. Shaking the rope from her wrists, she scratched his face, clawed at his eyes, but he only laughed harder.