Immortal Sins (10 page)

“A wonderful invention, hot running water,” he remarked, sitting beside her.

She nodded. Of course, it was something she had always taken for granted, like her computer, her digital camera, and her cell phone. It was amazing to think of all the things she used on a daily basis that had been unheard of only a few years ago, things like fax machines and satellite TV, GPS systems and CD players and iPods. Not so long ago, movies had been made in black and white, cars had running boards and ran on gas that cost only twenty-five cents a gallon, phones had rotary dials, and computers had taken up a whole room. People had listened to music on vinyl records. Televisions hadn’t come with remotes or had more than a hundred channels. Her great grandmother had used a wringer washing machine, dried her clothes on a line in the backyard, and typed on a manual typewriter. Kari blew out a sigh. Such things were as foreign to her as airplanes and automobiles were to him.

“I must ask for one more favor,” he said, a note of regret in his voice.

“What do you need?”

“I need to find a coven.”

“A coven!” she exclaimed. “Good grief, don’t tell me you’re a witch, too!”

His laughter, deep and rich, filled the air. “No, but I need to find one.”

Kari frowned. How on earth did you go about finding a witch? Witches R Us? “Maybe the Internet,” she remarked, thinking out loud. “You can find practically anything there.”

She went to her desk and sat down. After booting up her computer, she went to Google and typed in
covens
. As always, she was amazed by the number of hits. There were over three hundred thousand listings for covens, pagans, and witches, as well as related links to books and movies. One link listed covens by age groups. There was a link to a Wiccan directory, listings for Wiccan clergy, New England covens, a site that debated the pros and cons of being a solitary practitioner or joining a coven.

“That one,” Rourke said, pointing at a link that listed covens in Europe. Kari clicked on the site. It opened to something called “The Wiccan Rede.” It sounded like advice for witches. She read a few lines out loud.

“Cast the Circle thrice about, To keep all evil spirits out. To bind the spell every time, Let the spell be spake in rhyme. Soft of eye an’ light of touch—Speak little, listen much. When the Moon rides at Her peak, then your heart’s desire seek. Widdershins go when the Moon doth wane, an’ the Werewolf howls by the dread Wolfs bane.”

Reading over her shoulder, Rourke asked, “Does it say how to get in touch with a witch?”

Kari searched the site and came up with an e-mail address. She explained what e-mail was and then asked, “What do you want to say?”

“Ask if they know of a wizard named Josef Vilnius, and if he still lives.”

“You’re kidding, right? How could he still be alive after such a long time?”

“Wizards live longer than mere mortals.”

“Must be nice,” Kari muttered. She thought a moment, then typed her message: I’m trying to locate a wizard named Josef Vilnius. If you have any information about him or his whereabouts, please let me know. Kari.

She hit
SEND
, did a little more searching, sent out five more e-mails, and signed off. “All we can do now is wait.”

Rourke raked a hand through his hair. He had already waited three hundred years.

Kari turned to look at Rourke. “Do you want to go and check out the shed?” she asked.

“Check out?”

“Look it over.”

“Ah, yes.”

He followed her outside, waited while she opened the door. As she had said, it wasn’t much, just a small, square building she used for storing her patio furniture, holiday decorations, and junk she didn’t need but couldn’t bring herself to throw away.

She flipped the light switch but nothing happened. “I guess the bulb burned out. I’ll go get a new one.”

“No need.”

“But it’s so dark in there, how will you…Never mind, don’t tell me. Night vision is another by-product.”

Rourke grinned at her. “One of many.”

He stepped inside and looked around. The floor was made of wood, there were a number of boxes piled along the walls. Two were marked “Christmas,” one was marked “Halloween,” another “Easter.” Two others were marked “Miscellaneous Junk.”

“So, what do you think?” Kari asked from the doorway.

“It will do.”

“What will you, ah, sleep on? There’s a twin bed in the spare room that you can use. Or do you need a…you know?”

“A bed will be fine.”

“You could just sleep in the spare room, you know. It would be a lot more comfortable.”

“This suits me well enough, although I would like to keep my few belongings in the house, if you do not mind.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, and then wondered if she was making a mistake. What was she thinking? Did she really want a vampire sharing her living space? Did she really want to send him away? “I don’t mind,” she said again.

He rapped his knuckles on the door. “I will need to install a lock on the inside. Will that be a problem?”

“No, of course not.”

He didn’t tell her he would need to put other, paranormal wards around the building to protect him while he slept. He doubted anyone would be looking for a vampire in a shed in her backyard. People today did not believe the Undead existed, but it was always wise to be cautious. Too bad he hadn’t remembered that three hundred years ago.

He took a deep breath and the scent of the woman filled his nostrils. She was warm and vibrant and alive, so alive. Unable to resist, he moved toward her.

Kari’s heart skipped a beat as Rourke loomed over her. In the dark, she couldn’t see him very well, but she was aware of his nearness with every fiber of her being, and then his arms were sliding around her waist, drawing her body ever closer to his.

His nearness went through her like a jolt of electricity.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice little more than a squeak.

“Nothing.” He bent toward her, his lips lightly brushing hers. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lowering his head to hers, he kissed her, his lips lingering on hers in a slow and subtle exploration. Her lips felt bereft when he took his mouth from hers.

“Thank you for freeing me from that accursed painting.”

She swallowed hard. “You’re welcome.”

He kissed her again, his tongue boldly seeking hers this time. Pleasure unfurled deep within the very center of her being, unleashed by the sweet intoxication of his kiss. She should be thanking him, she thought. No one else had ever made her feel like this, as if her very bones were melting.

She blinked up at him when he took his mouth from hers, blurted, “Don’t stop,” and felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. What was she thinking, letting a vampire kiss her? Worse, what was she doing kissing him back and asking for more?

His hand stroked her hair. “I need to go.”

“Go?” She stared at him, confused. “Go where? I thought you were staying here.”

“I need to feed.” His gaze dropped to her throat. “Or I could stay….”

The hunger in his eyes was evident even in the dark. It quickly cooled her desire. With a shake of her head, she lifted a protective hand to her throat. “I don’t think so.”

“I will not be gone long. Do you think you will get an answer to your e-mail tonight?”

“I don’t know. It’s possible, I guess. Depends on how often they read their mail.”

“Will you be awake when I return?”

She nodded, thinking she would stay awake forever if he would just kiss her again.

His hand caressed her cheek, and then he was gone.

Kari stared at the spot where he had been. Amazing, she thought, that he could disappear so quickly.

She closed the door to the shed and went into the house. She had a vampire for a roommate. She could only wonder what kind of changes she would have to make in her lifestyle to accommodate him.

Rourke strolled along the dark streets, his thoughts centered on Karinna, always Karinna. In his day, it was practically unheard of for a woman to live alone or work outside the home. Women lived with their parents until they married, and then their husbands provided for them. A wife’s only duties had been to obey her husband, warm his bed, and bless him with an heir. Poor women often had worked in the fields alongside their husbands, and it wasn’t unheard of for women to give birth in the fields and then continue working.

In his day…He grunted softly. His day. How very long ago that had been! And how differently everything was now. Given time, he thought he might come to like this century. Time. It was the one thing he had in abundance. Time…how quickly the wheels turned. Everything he had ever known was gone; everyone he had ever known was dead and buried. His wife, his children, his parents, his brothers, all gone.

He wondered idly how he would have spent the last three hundred years if he hadn’t been imprisoned in that accursed painting. After leaving his wife and family, he had roamed the world, explored new cultures, learned new languages. He had reveled in his preternatural powers, gloried in his strength, satisfied his lust for blood and for flesh in every clime and on every continent. To be a vampire was to be invincible, immortal. He had looked forward to each new night. There had been so much to see, so much to do, and he’d had the time to see and do it all. Until Vilnius…

The scent of prey scattered his thoughts of the past.

The woman was emerging from a store, a bag of groceries in each hand. Clad in a pair of white slacks and a green shirt, she was tall and thin, with straight brown hair and troubled brown eyes.

A thought took him to her side. Murmuring, “Let me help you with that,” he reached for one of the bags.

“No, that’s all right,” she said, her voice and expression betraying her anxiety at being accosted in the parking lot by a complete stranger.

“It is no trouble.” He searched her mind for her name. “Cynthia.”

She stared at him, confused. “Do I know you?”

“You will.”

Staying as far away from him as she could, she fumbled in her handbag for her keys, unlocked the trunk, and placed her bag inside. Rourke placed his sack beside hers.

Murmuring, “Thank you,” she closed the trunk and moved quickly to the driver’s-side door.

When she would have opened the car door, Rourke placed his hand on her arm. “Wait.”

“Please,” she said, her voice thick with fear. “Don’t hurt me.”

“You need not worry about that.”

“I have two small children, Janie and Joey. Please, they need me. I’m all they have.”

“Hush, now,” he said, drawing her into his embrace. “There is nothing to fear.”

She stared at him through fear-filled eyes, her heart hammering in her breast. The scent of her fear teased his nostrils and quickened his hunger. He spoke to her mind, calming her until she stood quiescent in his arms, and then he lowered his head to her neck. Anyone passing by would see only a man embracing a woman. He drank slowly, savoring the warm, rich, coppery taste on his tongue. It had been so long since he had been able to slake his thirst, so long. Strength and power flowed into him. He was immortal, invincible.

When he had quenched his thirst, he sealed the tiny wounds in the woman’s neck with a flick of his tongue, then helped her into the car.

“You will go home now, Cynthia,” he said, his gaze holding hers. “You will get something to drink, and then go to bed.”

She looked up at him, her expression blank.

“You will forget this happened,” he said, bending her mind and will to his. “You will forget me.”

The woman looked at him a moment longer, and then, with a nod, she put the key in the ignition and started the engine. She sat there for a moment, and then, with a slight shake of her head, she turned on the car’s headlights and pulled out of the parking lot.

Rourke watched her drive away, and then, whistling softly, he started back toward Karinna’s house. A dog barked at him; Rourke stilled it with a look. A cat, sitting on a wall, hissed at him as he passed by. Rourke grinned into the darkness. You couldn’t fool animals, he thought. Domesticated or wild, they all sensed that he wasn’t human.

He found Karinna sitting at her computer when he arrived. He paused in the doorway, admiring the way the lamplight shone in her hair and brought out the natural flush in her cheeks. She was a beautiful woman, perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever known.

Kari sensed Rourke’s presence almost immediately. Feeling like a rabbit in the presence of a hungry wolf, she went suddenly still all over. She knew what he had been doing while he was gone; it filled her with a primal urge to run, to hide. He wasn’t a wolf, of course, but he was a dangerous predator of another kind: a vampire who had been out doing what vampires did—feeding on some luckless victim to preserve his own life. She comforted herself with the knowledge that he didn’t kill them.

Rourke stood behind her chair, unmoving, silent. He knew what she was thinking, feeling. The scent of her unease filled the air, and so he stood there, waiting, wondering if she had decided to ask him to leave.

The silence stretched between them.

“Karinna?”

Just her name, softly spoken, but she heard the question in his tone, knew he was waiting for her to tell him to stay or go.

Slowly, she swiveled around to face him. He looked much the same as always, though his complexion seemed a little more flushed, his eyes darker and more vibrant.

He gestured at her computer screen. “Any luck?” he asked quietly.

She blew out a sigh, and then she smiled, dissolving the tension between them. He hadn’t changed. He was the same Rourke who had captivated her from the beginning.

“I was just about to check.” She opened her mailbox, scrolled down until she found the e-mail she was looking for.

Leaning forward, Rourke read the message aloud: “I am acquainted with Vilnius. However, I am not in the habit of giving out personal information to unknown third parties. If you will give me your name, I shall tell Vilnius you are looking for him. Blessed be. Esme.”

Kari glanced over her shoulder. “I guess it’s too late to worry about it now,” she muttered, “but I’m not sure I like the idea of a practicing witch having my e-mail address. I mean, what if she hexes my computer or something?” She drummed her fingertips on the desktop. “So, what should I say?”