Immortal Sins (19 page)

Rourke paced the floor in front of the fireplace, his hands clenched at his sides. “He will regret it if he does so against her will.”

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it now,” Karinna remarked. “Come, sit here with me and relax.”

Muttering an oath, he dropped down beside her, his expression bleak.

“Do you like being a vampire?” she asked. “I asked you before what it was like, and you said you couldn’t explain it, but do you like it?”

He stared into the distance a moment, then nodded. “All things considered, yes, though the Dark Sleep took some getting used to.”

“What’s that like, or can’t you explain that, either?”

“It is like dying every night.”

The words conjured a morbid image that made her shudder. “I don’t think I’d like that part.”

He laughed softly. “One has to be careful where one takes his rest. I was traveling one night centuries ago and neglected to find a proper resting place. I stopped at a tavern and requested a room. Sometime during the day, the tavern owner’s wife entered the room, perhaps to clean it, perhaps to rob a sleeping guest. She mistook me for dead.”

“Oh, no! What happened?”

“They buried me.”

Horrified, Kari stared at him. She couldn’t envision anything worse, couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to wake up and find yourself in a coffin and realize you had been buried alive. She had heard stories of such things happening in the past, had seen it dramatized in movies, but Rourke had lived it. “What did you do?”

“At first, I panicked. And then I realized there was nothing to be afraid of. I dissolved into mist and materialized above ground. I never made that mistake again.”

Kari shook her head. It was unbelievable. He was unbelievable. Yet there he sat, solid and whole beside her, his muscular thigh pressed intimately against hers, his deep blue eyes watching her intently. Not for the first time, she wondered why she wasn’t repulsed by him, by what he was. Vampire. Undead. Nosferatu. A creature of the night. She tried to tell herself that she was being foolish, that her life was in danger every minute she spent in his presence, and yet, looking at him now, being close to him, none of that seemed to matter. He was here, and she wanted him.

As if reading her mind, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer.

Whispering his name, she closed her eyes and waited for his kiss.

She didn’t have to wait long. His mouth descended on hers, as light as fairy dust, as warm as a summer day. It was a gentle kiss, long and slow, as if they had nothing else to do the rest of their lives but perfect this one sweet kiss. His tongue teased her lower lip and she opened for him willingly, her whole body tingling as his tongue dueled with hers.

He withdrew a moment, then captured her mouth with his once more. This kiss was neither slow nor gentle but quick and hot, his tongue like a streak of fire. He stretched out on the sofa, drawing her down beside him, holding her body tight against his own. The evidence of his desire pressed intimately against her belly, awakening an answering desire deep within her.

He wanted her.

She wanted him.

But, unwanted, the word
vampire
whispered in her mind, cooling her ardor. As much as she loved him, wanted him, she wasn’t ready to become the bride of Dracula, no matter how appealing and desirable he might be.

He felt her emotional withdrawal instantly.

Wordlessly, he put her away from him and gained his feet.

Kari stared up at him, her body aching with unsatisfied need. His face was impassive as he gazed down at her. She wondered why she felt like she should apologize when she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Rourke…”

He held up his hand, staying her words. “I will bid you good night.”

“But…”

He was out the front door before she could ask him to stay, to let her explain. It was just as well, she thought glumly, since she had no idea what she would have said.

Rising, she went to the window and drew back the curtains. Where was he? She told herself he had gone for a walk or to take his rest, but deep inside, she was terribly afraid that he had gone looking for a woman who would accept him for what he was.

With a sigh, Ana Luisa rested her head on Ramon’s shoulder. Earlier, he had ordered her a pepperoni pizza for dinner. She had liked it very much. Now, they were sitting on the sofa watching something he called football on the television. It made no sense to her, but he seemed to like it, and she was happy just to be with him. Perhaps she was being foolish, trusting her safety and her life to a vampire she hardly knew, but Ramon made her feel safe in a way that no one else ever had. Running off to find him had been the most impulsive thing she had ever done, yet nothing had ever felt so right.

She curled up against him, wondering if Jason would ever forgive her, wondering if what she had told him was true—that her father wouldn’t be able to find her here. Just thinking about her father sent a cold chill down her spine. For as far back as she could remember, she had been afraid of him. She vividly remembered the looks of pity that people had turned in her direction when they learned that Vilnius was her father. The townspeople had often come to him, seeking magical cures for their aches and pains, a charm to guarantee a good crop, an incantation to ensure the health of their sheep or cattle, yet he had been feared by everyone. She had known it, and so had he.

She pressed closer to Ramon. Vilnius was a cruel man, one who enjoyed knowing that the people who came to him for help were afraid of him. He had done nothing to make them less afraid. He had, in fact, seemed to draw power from their fear. She had seen him do awful things, unspeakable things. To this day, she was certain he had killed her mother, though she had never dared voice her suspicion aloud to a living soul, or consider it in his presence.

She recalled the look on his face when he had magicked her into that painting, his black eyes blazing, his thin lips pulled back in a feral snarl as he spoke the evil incantation. He had bound her to that painting without a hint of sorrow, had left her there without a word or a thought for three hundred years.

A single tear slipped down her cheek. But for Jason, she would still be imprisoned. Jason. She had thought she loved him, had thought he loved her in return, until she saw him with another woman.

The first time she had seen the way Jason looked at Karinna, she had been tempted to turn the other woman into a hop toad, or banish her to some faraway, ice-bound realm for all eternity. She might have done it, too, if she herself hadn’t been the victim of an angry witch’s curse.

And now she was here, with Ramon. When she had left Karinna’s house earlier that day, she’d had no idea how to find Ramon again. She tried to remember the path she had taken the night she met him, and had ended up horribly lost in a strange part of town.

She had been frightened when a tall, gray-haired man wearing an official-looking uniform approached her. She must have looked as lost as she was, because he had asked her kindly if she needed help. She had told him that she was looking for the home of Ramon Vega and that he lived on Shadow Brook Lane. The gray-haired man had smiled and told her she was a long way from Shadow Brook Lane, and then he had offered to drive her there. She had been reluctant at first, until he explained that he was a police officer. When he had asked for the house number, she had confessed she didn’t know what it was, so he had driven her to the street and dropped her off when she pointed out Ramon’s house. She had thanked him profusely for his kindness. He had patted her shoulder and warned her to be more careful in the future. Sitting on Ramon’s doorstep, Ana had waited for the sun to go down, and then knocked on the door, realizing only then that Ramon might not be as anxious to see her as she was to see him. He had been surprised to see her. Fortunately, he had also been pleased. He had welcomed her into his home and his arms, and she never wanted to leave.

She had known him only a short time, she thought with a sigh, yet it seemed as if she had always known him, as if she had been waiting her whole life to hear his voice, see his smile, feel his touch.

His house was like he was, warm and bright. The walls were painted in vivid hues, the furniture was casual and comfortable. He had told her all about his past, how he had been turned into a vampire five years ago by a man who had once been his friend.

The fact that he liked being a vampire surprised her. How could anyone like such a thing? He had turned three of his friends into vampires, including the man Maitland. Ramon had assured her that she had nothing to fear from Maitland, and she believed him.

How quickly her life had turned upside down! Ramon had promised to take her shopping tomorrow night. He had told her she could buy anything she wished. She smiled inwardly. If there was one thing she liked about this new world, it was shopping. She had never seen clothes so fine, or in so many styles and colors. And the undergarments that Karinna had bought her. Why, they were hardly more than a scrap of lace that barely covered the private parts of her anatomy. She had been shocked when Karinna had first shown them to her, but now…Her cheeks grew warm as she thought of undressing for Ramon. Would he be pleased, or shocked?

“Ana Luisa?”

She looked up, her gaze meeting his.

“Are you all right, kiddo?”

“Kiddo?”

“It’s a term of affection,” he explained with a grin.

“Oh.” She sighed heavily. “I have so much to learn.”

His hand cupped her breast. “And I’ll be right here to teach you.”

She had told Ramon all about her father, warned him that his life might be in danger if he helped her, but he had only laughed.

“I stopped being afraid of the future the night I became a vampire,” Ramon had said, ruffling her hair. “Since then, I take each night as it comes. But you…ah, I never expected to find anything like you wandering in the dark.”

With a sigh, she snuggled against him once again, praying that he would never have cause to regret taking her in.

A tingle of awareness threaded through her when she felt his lips move in her hair. Tilting her head back, she curled her hand around his neck and drew him closer, all thought of Jason Rourke, her father, and the future dissolving like morning mist when Ramon lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed.

Back at work on Monday morning, Kari poured herself a cup of coffee, then booted up her computer and read her e-mail. As she sat at her desk, immersed in mundane tasks, everything that had happened in the last few weeks seemed like some kind of distant fever dream. It was hard to imagine that not only was Rourke made of flesh and blood, but he was also a vampire, and even harder to believe that she had made a hurried trip to Romania and managed to smuggle Ana Luisa out of the country. And that now, in addition to a sexy 767-year-old vampire, there was a witch who was over three hundred years old living in the city. Not to mention the vampire who had made Rourke, and the vampire with whom the wizard’s daughter was currently residing.

Kari glanced around thinking that the people she worked with would never believe any of it.

By noon, she could scarcely believe it herself. Caught up in fonts and hues and page layouts, it was hard to imagine that there were vampires sleeping somewhere in the city, or that one of them was taking his rest in the shed in her backyard. At least she thought he was. She hadn’t seen him since last night, when they had made out on the sofa. This morning, she had been tempted to peek into the shed to see if he was there, but the thought of seeing him while he slept filled her with trepidation. And even if she’d had the nerve, it would have been impossible, since she knew he locked the door from the inside.

She met Tricia for lunch at the coffee shop on the corner and they spent a pleasant hour getting caught up. Kari was dying to tell her friend everything. She needed someone to confide in, someone she could trust who could keep her grounded in reality, but the last time she had told Tricia about Rourke, he had wiped the memory from Tricia’s mind.

Kari picked up a French fry, wondering just how he had managed that, and if he had ever wiped anything from her own mind. That was a scary thought, even scarier than his ability to do so. He might have erased one memory or a hundred and she would never know it!

The rest of the day passed quickly. She finished a project for one of her major clients, spent two hours on the phone with another client who had decided, at the last minute, that he wanted to change his whole presentation.

Lost in her work, she didn’t have a chance to think about who would be waiting for her at home.

Jason Rourke’s image jumped to the forefront of her mind as soon as she drove out of the parking lot. A fair-haired angel, Tricia had called him. Ha! Angel, indeed! She was sure he had more in common with fallen Lucifer than Gabriel.

Would Rourke be waiting for her at home? Did she want him to be? She knew it would probably be better if he just disappeared from her life, but she couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again even though she couldn’t see that they had much of a future together. She was twenty-five, he was 767. She slept at night, he slept by day. She liked food and sunshine and vacations at the beach, he drank blood and hunted the shadows for prey. She would grow old, he would stay forever the same.

At the front door, she took a deep breath and then put her key in the lock, wondering whether she would feel relief or regret if he wasn’t there.

She found him in the living room watching the six o’clock news, the daily paper scattered at his feet. A wellspring of happiness bubbled up inside her when she saw him there. He looked so normal, sitting in front of the TV clad in a black T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, just like any other man relaxing after a hard day’s work. Only he wasn’t an ordinary man, and he didn’t have a job.

He looked up as she entered the room. She frowned, perplexed by the intensity of his gaze. Was he angry? Had he come to take her by force, or tell her good-bye? He couldn’t be angry, she thought, smiling inwardly, not after last night. Still, her stomach knotted as she waited for him to say something.

“Good evening, sweeting.”

Relief swept through her as his voice washed over her. He definitely wasn’t angry.

“Hi.” She dropped her handbag on the sofa table and kicked off her shoes.

He held out his hand, and when she took it, he drew her gently toward him, pulling her down onto his lap. “How was your day?”

“I was busy playing catch-up all day. How was yours…never mind.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry grin, and then, cupping her nape in one hand, he drew her head down and kissed her, his breath mingling with hers, his hands lightly skimming over her shoulders and down her back, sliding seductively over her hip and along her thigh.

“Rourke…”

He kissed her again, longer, deeper. Heat flowed from his mouth to hers. Her stomach quivered as his tongue teased the corner of her mouth, then slid inside, tasting, teasing, evoking sensations that Kari felt in the very core of her being. She moaned softly, yearning toward him, longing to feel the long, hard length of his body stretched out beside hers, a part of hers….

With a soft cry of protest, she drew away and gained her feet, surprised that her legs were strong enough to hold her. Her insides felt like Jell-O, her legs like limp spaghetti.

Rourke looked up at her, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I want you,” he said in a voice like honeyed velvet. “You want me. Why do you continue to fight the attraction between us?”

She stood there, feeling foolish and confused. She wanted him and they both knew it, but deep down inside, though she was loath to admit it even to herself, she was afraid of him, afraid of his preternatural powers, afraid that letting him make love to her would, in some way, steal her free will and make her his slave. He had erased all memory of himself from Tricia’s mind. How did she know he wasn’t planting ideas in her mind now? What if he had been manipulating her? What if her feelings weren’t even her own? Maybe he was making her think she wanted him, but what would be the point? If he wanted her, all he had to do was take her. She was no match for him, physically or otherwise.

He held out his hand, palm up. “Come to me, sweeting.”

His voice, so soft and sensual, was filled with gentle persuasion.

She waited, wondering if he was playing with her mind, relieved when she was able to resist.

“No.” She shook her head even though she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again. “No.”

He rose, towering over her. “Why do you continue to deny yourself what you want?” he asked, and there was no mistaking the fine edge of anger and frustration in his tone.

“Because I’ve never…I mean, I don’t…I mean…” It was one of the reasons she had broken it off with Ben. He had hurled insults at her, his voice filled with disdain as he had accused her of being old-fashioned, frigid, a cold fish, because she wouldn’t sleep with him. People didn’t wait until they were married these days, he had said angrily. What was she trying to prove? Did she want him to beg?

She had tried to explain it to him, had tried to make him understand that it didn’t matter what everyone else was doing, that she wanted to wait, to make sure that the first man she slept with would be the last. He had laughed at that. No one stayed married forever anymore, either, he had said, his voice laced with scorn. Until Ben had spoken those words, she had hoped they would be able to work it out, but what chance did a marriage have when one partner had already decided it wouldn’t last?

“You are untouched,” Rourke said, a note of wonder in his voice.

“Yes.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “So what?”

His knuckles caressed her cheek. “It is an admirable quality, rare from what I have seen of the women of this century. Forgive me.”

She looked up at him, at the desire shining in the depths of his eyes, and felt her determination weaken just a little as she imagined herself in his arms, in his bed.

He lifted one brow. “Be careful,” he said, amusement evident in his tone, “lest your thoughts betray you.”

Heat flooded her cheeks with the realization that he was reading her mind.

“Stop that!”

“I want only what you want,” he said with a roguish grin. “You, naked in my arms. You, naked in my bed.”

His bed, or his coffin? She grimaced at the thought, her desire extinguished like a flame drenched in cold water.

“Go back to what you were doing,” she said, moving toward the stairs. “I’m going to change my clothes and then get something to eat.”

She hurried up the steps, every fiber of her being acutely aware that Rourke was watching her every move.

He stared after her. She was unlike any woman he had ever known. She was afraid to fly, yet she had agreed to accompany him to Romania so he could free Ana Luisa. She was afraid of him, of what he was, yet she had offered him a place to stay. She wanted him as deeply as he wanted her, yet she clung to her principles of right and wrong as fiercely as any ancient warrior. He admired her for that most of all.

Rourke shook his head. What was he to do with her? The smart thing would be to move on. He had familiarized himself with this century. He had freed Ana Luisa from her painting. As far as he was concerned, his debt to Ana was fulfilled. It was time he fulfilled the oath he had made to himself time and again in the last three hundred years.

Rourke dragged a hand over his jaw. He should bid Karinna farewell, go after Vilnius, retrieve his father’s sword, and find a place for himself in this new world.

He glanced at the staircase as Karinna descended, a raven-haired angel in a pair of faded blue jeans and a red sweater that lovingly hugged every curve. What man in his right mind, dead or Undead, would leave such a delectable creature?

He had waited three hundred years to avenge himself on Josef Vilnius. What difference would another year or two or even ten make?

Kari paused at the foot of the stairs, trapped by the intensity of Rourke’s gaze. She didn’t have to be psychic to know what he was thinking. It was evident in the taut line of his body, in the fire blazing in the depths of his hooded eyes. She could feel the heat arc across the distance that separated them. If he moved toward her, if he touched her, she knew she would go up in flames….

Feeling as though she were rooted to the spot, she shook her head, silently pleading with him to go away and leave her alone because she was afraid, so afraid, that her ability to deny him, to deny herself, wouldn’t last much longer.

Step by slow step, he moved toward her like some wild jungle cat stalking its prey.

She stared up at him, unable to speak, unable to move. His preternatural power washed over her, leaving her feeling vulnerable, helpless. Doomed.

“Karinna.” His voice poured over her, warm and sweet, like melted chocolate. His knuckles caressed her cheek. “What am I to do with you?”

She blinked up at him. She was at his mercy. He could do anything he desired; there was nothing she could do to stop him, and they both knew it.

“You are so lovely.” His fingertip moved back and forth over her lower lip. “Your skin is like fine silk, your eyes as blue as the sky I have not seen since I was a young man. Your body…” His gaze slid down, lingering on her breasts, her belly, her hips, before returning to her face. “Your body is like a symphony waiting to be played.”

Lowering his head, he kissed her. He didn’t close his eyes, and neither did she. She saw him then, saw him as he truly was, a man who possessed unbelievable power, who could easily take her against her will, a man who could devour her body and soul. She knew a moment of stark, unreasoning fear, and then it was swept away in the sure knowledge that he would never do anything to hurt her.

She saw something else, as well, a soul-deep loneliness unlike anything she had ever imagined. The depths of it, the pain of it, brought tears to her eyes.

Rourke drew back, a frown creasing his brow as he caught one of her tears on the tip of his finger. “Why do you weep?”

She shook her head, afraid he would laugh at her. After all, it was ludicrous that a mere mortal should shed tears for someone such as he, a being of untold power, one who had lived for hundreds of years and would live for hundreds more. What was a little loneliness compared to the centuries of discovery that lay before him? And yet, how much longer must the years seem when you had no one to share them with, when you were doomed to lose everyone you knew, everyone you loved, over and over again?

Unaccountably touched by her tears, he said, “You need not weep for me, sweeting.”

“I can’t help it.”

With a sigh, he drew her into his embrace, his hand running lightly up and down her back. Though he could easily bend her will to his, or take her by force, he wanted her to surrender willingly, to give herself to him because it was what she wanted.

“Ah, Karinna,” he murmured. “You tempt me almost beyond my control.”

She clung to the word
almost,
knowing it was her salvation, even as she wondered if she really wanted to be saved.

His hand stroked her hair. “What do you want of me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I want you,” he said. “In my life, in my bed. What do you want? Are we to remain strangers to each other? Do you wish me to leave? Tell me what you want.”

She gazed up at him. What did she want? Slowly, she shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

“Perhaps it would be best for me to leave.”

“No!”

“You do care, then?”

“You know I do.” She frowned at him. “How can you say we’re strangers?”

“Are we not?”

“I don’t think so.”

His knuckles slid down her cheek. “I do not know you nearly as well as I want to.”

His words made her stomach quiver. “I’m just not ready for that. I mean, it’s a big step and we’re…we’re so different.”

He pulled her closer. “Not so different. Feel how your body molds itself to mine, as if we had been designed for one another.”

She nodded, too breathless to speak.

“I feel your yearning, your hunger. It is the same as mine.” His hand slid down her back to cup her bottom, drawing her up against him, leaving no doubt that he wanted her. “You hesitate because of what I am, do you not?”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“But I am still a man, sweeting, capable of loving you, of protecting you, if need be. Be my woman.” His lips brushed hers. “Be my wife.”