Blood Promise (32 page)

While his bare skin was still cold, the press of the rest of his body against mine was warm. The red in his eyes practically gleamed while this close, and as he spoke, I saw the fangs in his mouth. I was used to seeing fangs on Moroi, but on him . . . it was sickening. I briefly toyed with the idea of trying to break free but promptly dismissed it. If Dimitri wanted to hold me down, I would stay down.

“I don’t want any of this,” I said.

“Don’t you want me?” he asked with a wicked smile. “You wanted me once.”

“No,” I said, knowing I lied.

“What do you want then? To go back to the Academy? To serve Moroi who will throw you into danger without a second thought? If you wanted that kind of life, why did you come here?”

“I came to free you.”

“I
am
free,” he responded. “And if you’d really intended to kill me, you would have.” He shifted slightly, resting his face close to my neck. “You couldn’t.”

“I messed up. It won’t happen again.”

“Suppose that were true. Suppose you were able to kill me now. Suppose you were even able to escape. What then? Will you go back home? Will you return to Lissa and let her continue bleeding spirit’s darkness into you?”

“I don’t know,” I replied stiffly. And it was the truth. My plans had never gone past finding him.

“It will consume you, you know. As long as she continues to use her magic, no matter how far away you go, you’ll always feel the side effects. At least as long as she’s alive.”

I stiffened in his arms and moved my face away. “What’s that mean? Are you going to join Nathan and hunt her down?”

“What happens to her is no concern of mine,” he said. “You are. If you were awakened, Lissa would no longer be a threat to you. You’d be free. The bond would break.”

“And what would happen to her? She’d be left alone.”

“Like I said, that’s no concern of mine. Being with you is.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t want to be with you.”

He turned my face toward him so that we were looking at each other again. Once more, I had that weird feeling of being with Dimitri and not with Dimitri. Love and fear.

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want. I don’t want you anymore.”

His lips quirked into one of those scary, smirking smiles. “You’re lying. I can tell. I’ve always been able to.”

“It’s the truth. I wanted you before. I don’t want you now.”If I kept saying it, it would be true.

He moved closer to me, and I froze. If I shifted even half an inch, our lips would touch. “My exterior . . . my power, yes, that’s different. Better. But otherwise, I’m the same, Roza. My essence hasn’t changed. The connection between us hasn’t changed. You just can’t see it yet.”

“Everything’s changed.” With his lips so close, all I kept thinking about was that brief, passionate kiss he’d given me the last time he was here. No, no, no.
Don’t think about that
.

“If I’m so different, then why don’t I force you into an awakening? Why am I giving you the choice?”

A snappy retort was on my lips, but then it died. That was an excellent question. Why
was
he giving me the choice? Strigoi didn’t give their victims choices. They killed mercilessly and took what they wanted. If Dimitri truly wanted me to join him, then he should have turned me as soon as he had me. More than a day had passed, and he’d showered me with luxury. Why? If he turned me, I had no doubt that I’d become as twisted as him. It would make everything a lot simpler.

He continued when I remained silent. “And if I’m so different, then why did you kiss me back earlier?”

I still didn’t know what to say, and it made his smile grow. “No answer. You know I’m right.”

His lips suddenly found mine again. I made a small sound of protest and tried vainly to escape his embrace. He was too strong, and after a moment, I didn’t want to escape. That same sensation as before flooded me. His lips were cold, but the kiss burned between us. Fire and ice. And he was right—I
did
kiss him back.

Desperately, that rational part of me screamed that this was wrong. Last time, he’d broken the kiss before too much could happen. Not this time. And as we continued kissing now, that rational voice in me grew smaller and smaller. The part of me that would always love Dimitri took over, exulting in the way his body felt against mine, the way he wound my hair around one of his hands, letting the fingers get tangled up. His other hand slid up the back of my shirt, cold against my warm skin. I pushed myself closer to him and felt the pressure of the kiss increase as his own desire picked up.

Then, in the midst of it all, my tongue lightly brushed against the sharp point of one of his fangs. It was like a bucket of cold water tossed upon me. With as much strength as I could muster, I jerked my head away, pulling out of the kiss. I could only guess that his guard had been momentarily down, allowing me that small escape.

My breathing was heavy, my whole body still wanting him. My mind, however, was the part of me in control—for now, at least. God, what had I been doing?
It’s not the Dimitri you knew. It’s not him
. I’d been kissing a monster. But my body wasn’t so sure.

“No,” I murmured, surprised by how pathetic and pleading I sounded. “No. We can’t do this.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. His hand was still in my hair, and he forcibly turned my head so that I was face-to-face with him again. “You didn’t seem to mind. Everything can be just like it was before . . . like it was in the cabin . . . You certainly wanted it then. . . .”

The cabin . . .

“No,” I repeated. “I don’t want that.”

He pressed his lips against my cheek and then made a surprisingly gentle trail of kisses down to my neck. Again, I felt my body’s yearning for him, and I hated myself for the weakness.

“What about this?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Do you want this?”

“Wh—”

I felt it. The sharp bite of teeth into my skin as he closed his mouth down on my neck. For half an instant, it was agonizing. Painful and horrible. And then, just like that, the pain disappeared. A rush of bliss and joy poured through me. It was so sweet. I had never felt so wonderful in my life. It reminded me a little of how it had been when Lissa drank from me. That had been amazing, but this . . . this was ten times better. A hundred times better. The rush from a Strigoi bite was greater than that of a Moroi’s. It was like being in love for the first time, filled with that all-consuming, joyous feeling.

When he pulled away, it felt like all the happiness and wonder in the world had vanished. He ran a hand over his mouth, and I stared at him wide-eyed. My initial instinct was to ask why he’d stopped, but then, slowly, I reached inside myself to fight past the blissful daze that his bite had sent me into.

“Why . . . what . . .” My words slurred a little. “You said it would be my choice. . . .”

“It still is,” he said. His own eyes were wide, his breathing heavy too. He’d been just as affected as me. “I’m not doing this to awaken you, Roza. A bite like this won’t turn you. This . . . well, this is just for fun. . . .”

Then, his mouth moved back to my neck to drink again, and I lost track of the world.

T
HE DAYS AFTER THAT WERE like a dream. In fact, I honestly can’t say how many days even passed. Maybe it was one. Maybe it was a hundred.

I lost track of day and night too. My time was divided into Dimitri or not-Dimitri. He was my world. When he wasn’t there, the moments were agony. I’d pass them as best I could, but they seemed to drag on forever. The TV was my best friend during those times. I’d lie on the couch for hours, only half following what was going on. In keeping with the rest of the suite’s luxury, I had access to satellite television, which meant we were actually pulling in some American programming. Half the time, though, I wasn’t sure that it really made a difference to me if the language was Russian or English.

Inna continued her periodic checks on me. She brought my meals and did my laundry—I was wearing the dresses now—and waited around in that silent way of hers to see if I needed anything else. I never did—at least not from her. I only needed Dimitri. Each time she left, some distant part of me remembered I was supposed to do something . . . follow her, that was it. I’d had some plan to check out the exit and use her as a way to escape, right? Now, that plan no longer held the appeal. It seemed like a lot of work.

And then, finally, Dimitri would visit, and the monotony would be broken. We’d lie together on my bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. We never had sex, but we’d kiss and touch and lose ourselves in the wonder of each other’s bodies—sometimes with very little clothing. After a while, I found it hard to believe I’d once been afraid of his new appearance. Sure, the eyes were a bit shocking, but he was still gorgeous . . . still unbelievably sexy. And after we’d talked and made out for a while—for hours, sometimes—I’d let him bite me. Then I’d get that rush . . . that wonderful, exquisite flood of chemicals that lifted me from all my problems. Whatever doubts I’d had about God’s existence vanished in those moments because surely, surely I was touching God when I lost myself in that bite.
This
was heaven.

“Let me see your neck,” he said one day.

We were lying together as usual. I was on my side, and he was snuggled up against my back, one arm draped around my waist. I rolled over and brushed my hair away from where it had fallen over my neck and cleavage. The dress I wore today was a navy halter sundress, made of some light, clingy material.

“Already?” I asked. He usually didn’t bite me until the end of his visits. While part of me longed for that and waited in anticipation to feel that high again, I did kind of enjoy these moments beforehand. It was when the endorphins in my system were at their lowest, so I was able to manage some sort of conversation. We would talk about fights we’d been in or the life he imagined for us when I was Strigoi. Nothing too sentimental—but nice nonetheless.

I braced myself for the bite now, arching up in anticipation. To my surprise, he didn’t lean down and sink his teeth into me. He reached into his pocket and produced a necklace. It was either white gold or platinum—I didn’t have the skill to tell which—and had three dark blue sapphires the size of quarters. He’d brought me a lot of jewelry this week, and I swore each piece was more beautiful than the last.

I stared in amazement at its beauty, at the way the blue stones glittered in the light. He placed the necklace against my skin and fastened it behind my neck. Running his fingers along the necklace’s edges, he nodded in approval.

“Beautiful.” His fingers drifted to one of the dress’s straps. He slid his hand underneath it, sending a thrill through my skin. “It matches.”

I smiled. In the old days, Dimitri had almost never gotten me gifts. He hadn’t had the means, and I hadn’t wanted them anyway. Now, I was continually dazzled by the presents he seemed to have at each visit.

“Where’d you get it?” I asked. The metal was cool against my flushed skin but nowhere near as cold as his fingers.

He smiled slyly. “I have my sources.”

That chastising voice in my head that sometimes managed to penetrate through the haze I lived in noted that I was involved with some sort of vampire gangster. Its warnings were immediately squashed and sank back down into my dreamy cloud of existence. How could I be upset when the necklace was so beautiful? Something suddenly struck me as funny.

“You’re just like Abe.”

“Who?”

“This guy I met. Abe Mazur. He’s some kind of mob boss . . . he kept following me.”

Dimitri stiffened. “Abe Mazur was following you?”

I didn’t like the dark look that had suddenly fallen over his features. “Yeah. So?”

“Why? What did he want with you?”

“I don’t know. He kept wanting to know why I was in Russia but finally gave up and just wanted me to leave. I think somebody from home hired him to find me.”

“I don’t want you near Abe Mazur. He’s dangerous.” Dimitri was angry, and I hated that. A moment later, that fury faded, and he ran his fingers along my arm once more, pushing the strap down further. “Of course, people like that won’t be an issue when you awaken.”

Somewhere, in the back of my head, I wondered if Dimitri had the answers I wanted about Abe—about what Abe did. But talking about Abe had made Dimitri upset, and I cringed at that, hastily wanting to switch topics.

“What have you been doing today?” I asked, impressed at my ability to make normal small talk. Between the endorphins and him touching me, coherence was difficult.

“Errands for Galina. Dinner.”

Dinner. A victim. I frowned. The feelings that inspired in me weren’t of repulsion so much as . . . jealousy.

“Do you drink from them . . . for fun?”

He ran his lips along my neck, teeth taunting my skin but not biting. I gasped and pressed closer to him.

“No, Roza. They’re food; that’s all. It’s over quickly. You’re the only one I take pleasure in.”

I felt smug satisfaction in that, and that annoying mental voice pointed out that that was an incredibly sick and twisted view for me to have. I kind of hoped he would bite me soon. That usually shut the rational voice up.

I reached up and touched his face, then ran my hand through that wonderful, silky hair that I’d always loved. “You keep wanting to awaken me . . . but we won’t be able to do this anymore. Strigoi don’t drink from each other, do they?”

“No,” he agreed. “But it’ll be worth it. We can do so much more. . . .”

He left the “so much more” to my imagination, and a pleasant shiver ran through me. The kissing and blood taking were intoxicating, but there were some days that I did want, well . . . more. The memories of the one time we’d made love haunted me when we were this close together, and I often longed to do it again. For whatever reason, he never pushed for sex, no matter how passionate things became. I wasn’t sure if he was using that as a lure for me to turn or if there was some incompatibility between a Strigoi and a dhampir. Could the living and the dead do that? Once, I would have found the thought of sex with one of them absolutely repulsive. Now . . . I just didn’t think about the complications so much.