Winter's Touch (Immortal Touch Series) (23 page)

Eva straightened her sweater.
“I wish you could understand the difference between right and wrong. But you can’t, can you? It just doesn’t get through to you.”

“Maybe it’s not that I don’t understand. Maybe it’s that I just don’t care.” He disappeared into the kitchen, returning momentarily without the needle.
“Right and wrong, what are they anyway but perception? What is wrong to one person might be completely acceptable to someone else. You find my way of life disturbing, but do you fault the spider for killing the fly? Or do you shrug it off -
c’est la vie
- and put it from your mind? Don’t be a hypocrite, my dear. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I never
heard of a spider who tried to play Doctor Frankenstein by mutating a fly into an arachnid. You’re avoiding the issue.”

“Which is?”

“You deliberately tried to infect me, knowing good and well it wasn’t what I wanted. Whether or not you agree with me is irrelevant. I’m tired of being your victim, Julian. I’m not inferior, I’m not your subordinate and I’m not your damn guinea pig either. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

As always, her irritation only served to amuse him. “Perhaps it’s a good thing my attempt failed. You are difficult enough to control as a human.”

“God, you’re impossible!” She sighed wearily. “Let me ask you something. Did you ever stop to wonder why you suddenly feel the desire for companionship?”

“No. Not really.”

“It’s a very basic human need. One that you wouldn’t be experiencing if you were as heartless as you claim to be.”

He
tilted his head to one side, contemplating her words thoughtfully. But he merely said, “The storm has stopped.”

In the
turmoil, she hadn’t noticed that during the course of the afternoon the harsh wind had ceased completely. The storm outdoors had died down much as the one indoors had.

“Let’s go outside,” he suddenly suggested.

Eva was confused. “In the freezing dark? What for?”

“
You’ll see. Go and bundle up. I want to show you something.”

Her natural curiosity getting the better of her, she did as
he requested. At the mercy of his peculiar whims, there was little else she could do anyway.

F
ifteen minutes later she stood in the moonlit snow with her captivating abductor. The shadowy veil of night had already descended, but the sky was clear now and the bright, full moon cast an ethereal luminance on the icy world. The snow sparkled as though intermingled with diamonds, the trees dressed in formal flowing gowns of white. It was so enchantingly beautiful, her heart ached.

“I can see why you chose this place as your home,” she
admitted. “It’s almost too perfect to be real.”

“You should see it through my eyes.”

“Do you see things differently?”

“Somewhat. Please don’t ask me to explain. There are some things you can never
perceive without experiencing for yourself.”

Pulling off one of her gloves, she knelt and ran a finger along the pure,
frosty snow that had accumulated on the ground. Its frigid wetness made her feel vibrantly alive. The air itself seemed charged with renewed energy, and with the simple, ordinary act of inhaling she drew new life within herself from the earth.

“I can taste the air,” she said, straightening. “It’s so
clean.”

“Listen,” he told her.

She cocked her head, but only stillness reached her ears. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Precisely. But there is music in the silence, if you know how to listen for it.”

“Can you show me how?”

“I wish it
were possible. Instead, I’ll give you something a bit more tangible.”

From a distance
, the fluttering of countless wings gradually grew louder until the sky above them filled with hundreds of mourning doves, gracefully flying in all directions as if they were gray feathered snowflakes drifting from the clouds.

Eva
could hardly breathe. “Oh, Jules, they’re beautiful! So many of them.” She imagined she could almost feel the breeze from all the wings beating in unison. The sight was surreal, a fleeting dream that escapes the conscious mind upon waking. It was the most magical thing she’d ever seen, not counting the bewitching enigma by her side.

Julian waved a dismissive hand, sending the mass of doves
disappearing into the cold night. She watched them fade into the darkness until there was no longer a trace of sound. In a matter of seconds, it was as if they had never existed. The dream was ended, the dreamer awake.

“You are
the strangest creation.” She gazed at him with a look of awe. “I wonder if you’re even real. Sometimes I think maybe I’m in a coma in some hospital somewhere and I’m just hallucinating all of this. Maybe you’re nothing more than an invention of my mind. A drug-induced delusion.”

“How can I prove to you how real I am?”
He stroked her cheek gently. In spite of the frigid temperature, his touch was warm. “If I were an apparition, would you tremble at my touch the way you do? Or would you scream to wake yourself from the nightmare? Oh no, I think not. You know the truth as well as I do. I’m as real as you want me to be, and we both know what it is you want, sweet Eva. You want he who is lost. The one who died.”

“
He can’t be dead. I’ve seen him.” She felt captivated by his caress.

“It is he who is the delusion, you know.”

“No. It isn’t true.” Nothing he could say would ever make her believe that.

“I wanted so much to make you as I am. To preserve my butterfly forever. I suppose there are some things that are even beyond
my
control.”

“Life and death are uncontrollable forces, I’m afraid.”

“I never before believed it imperative to know how I came to be as I am. And now, that knowledge seems the most important thing in the world.”

“Would you change me against my will?”

She received no response for this question. The answer, of course, was obvious. The vampire always had his way.

He reached in the snow for her discarded glove and handed it to her. “
I believe I’ll head to the conservatory for a while. I’m feeling inspired.”

~
*~*~

Leaving
her captor to his music, Eva pampered herself with a long soak in the bathtub, then both a manicure and pedicure. Relinquishing to the atmosphere of her surroundings, she dressed in a flowing white Victorian nightgown; then, still wide awake and restless, she returned to the library for her book. After her unexpected nap this afternoon, sleep would be even more impossible than ever. Irresistible temptation lured her downstairs, and through the closed door of the conservatory wafted the faint strains of an unfamiliar song. Wondering what the composition of a vampire might sound like, she stood quietly listening, bare feet growing chilly on the smooth walnut floor.

Why
did
he always keep the house so cold, anyway? Just to annoy her?

A soft click, and the door swung
slowly open of its own volition. Or, more likely, by
his
will. Tiptoeing inside, she took in the contents of the room with rapt fascination. A classic piano, keyboard, synthesizer, cello case, computer (so this was why he kept the door locked) and an assortment of recording equipment that she couldn’t even begin to identify. It was a much more impressive setup than she’d ever imagined. Apparently he was
really
into his hobby.

He
remained at the piano, eyes on the keys in front of him, continuing to play the haunting melody that sighed in her ears like the whispers of anguished specters.

“Do you play?” he asked, without looking up.

“No, not really. I took lessons for a while when I was about twelve, but I didn’t have the patience for it. There was always something more interesting to do than stay indoors practicing my scales.” She listened in silence for a while to the music that seemed beyond music, seemed something far more transcendental than a compilation of minor chords that swirled together to form an eerie lullaby. “It’s lovely. What is it?”

He glanced up at her. “I call it
Requiem for a Captive Butterfly
.”

Eva felt faint. The notes continued to mesmerize her, holding her spellbound in their seductive
symphony. An unnatural warmth began to spread throughout her and as she watched him, a Nordic statue more exquisite than the ethereal frozen night, she felt his blood mingle with hers to flow unchecked through the catacombs of her soul. The nexus that tied them had become as unbreakable as fate itself.

The room began to
dissolve as unseen hands seemed to touch her, extending from his probing eyes to caress her like a summer wind. Though he had not moved, she could feel him as sure as she felt her own accelerating heartbeat. Her vision clouded.

He stood and swept her effortlessly
into his arms before she could collapse, carrying her upstairs to place her on his bed with all the care of one who holds a priceless object.

“Something’s wrong,” she told him, her voice
breathless.

“No
,” he gently refuted. “You’re fine. I was just testing something. Apparently it worked all too well.”

“What were you doing? I thought
...I could almost...”

“I was trying to reach you mentally. And you felt it, didn’t you?”

“I felt...something, yes. I can’t describe it.” She pressed a cool hand to her warm forehead. “What were you trying to say to me?”

“I wasn’t trying to say anything. Not in words.
” There was an approaching fire in his eyes that threatened to spread as he leaned into her, so close his silky hair brushed against her cheek. “I was attempting to convey to you how much I want you. You must have felt it. Tell me you did.”

“Julian
...”

“Ah, Eva
...how I want you. Don’t deny me. Don’t...I want you so...” He pressed his lips against hers then, kissing her with all the unrelenting passion of Eros himself, hot and hungry and forceful, and her traitorous arms reached around him to pull him closer still.

“Yes, you want me,” he breathed against her lips. “I need to hear it from you. Tell me. Tell me right now that you want me inside you.”

Her fingers dug into his back and she moaned softly, delirious with desire. Of course he was right, there was no denying him...she could never hope to be strong enough for that, never in a million lifetimes. And she no longer wanted to be. “Please...”

“Please what?
Tell me what it is you want. You
say
it! I want to hear it!” His voice was almost desperate.

Looking into his eyes, she gave him what he
demanded. “You’re what I want. It’s you, Jules...it’s always been you. You’re all I’ll
ever
want.”

“Damn right
,” he growled.

And s
he surrendered to him, even with the knowledge that there was no return for her. No expiation. All that she was, all that she would ever be, was now tangled inescapably within his dark soul. She could no more prevent this than she could stop the sun from rising.

He claimed her as his own again and again, in the primal way of the mor
tal man, until the raging wildfire had been sufficiently subdued and she slept peacefully in the sanctuary of his arms.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Instrument of Grace

In one momentous night, everything had changed.

Her guard down, defenses shattered, any illusion Eva might have once harbored of escaping unscathed was forever obliterated. Scarred now, broken beyond repair, her body and soul no longer belonged to her. They were his now, and she had given them willingly, without regret. The undeniable result was that she now was enduringly and unconditionally in love with a demon.

And t
he game was over.

She had lost.

~*~*~

“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day.”

Aaron Chandler gave his wife a rueful smile as he ambled lazily into the den, where he flopped his thin, well-toned body gracelessly into a worn recliner. “Not like I can go anywhere until the roads are cleared.”

“Wish you’d taken that stance
the other night,” Paula complained. “Trying to drive home from the lodge in the middle of that storm. I
told
you to stay put, didn’t I?”

Aaron glanced over at his son, who was curled up on the couch with a video game controller in hand. Dane caught his eye and grinned when his dad rolled his eyes.

“I saw that,” Paula informed them both.

“Yeah, yeah.” Aaron stretched and yawned. “Man, I
still
feel worn out. Hope I’m not coming down with the flu or something.”